“Thanks for your cooperation,” he said as she closed the cruiser door.
He watched her as she walked up the walkway to her house and opened the front door. She turned to wave at him, but he drove off without another look in her direction.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Cara locked her front door, leaned against it, and called David. His voicemail message came on. Her shoulders relaxed. Even his recorded voice soothed her.
After the beep she said, “Call me when you can. I’m at my house. I’d love for you to come over here tonight. You need to have your locks changed.”
David called soon after, in a panic. “What happened? Why didn’t you stay at my place?”
“I’ll tell you about it when you get here.”
Despite her fearful memories from that morning, she’d calmed down since then and didn’t want to upset David. But she also didn’t plan to hang out at his place alone again. Ever.
“I’ll come over after I wash up.”
His other line buzzed.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said. “And I missed you, too.”
* * *
David showed up on Cara’s doorstep a couple of hours later, fresh from washing up after his fishing trip. Wearing a tight smile, he ran his hand through his wet hair.
She took his arm and pulled him inside. “Did Amber do something at your place?” she asked as she led him upstairs to the entertainment room.
He stopped in the middle of the room. “Nothing that I noticed. I got a phone call from an Officer Taft.”
She sat him down with her on the futon. “He came to your house after Amber’s break-in and drove me home. He’s the same officer I talked to last week.”
“How did Amber get into my house?”
“I don’t know.” Cara had never figured out how Amber had gotten into her house, either. “Maybe I forgot to lock the front door.”
David exhaled long and hard. “Officer Taft told me Amber has also reported you for harassing her and for trying to break into her house.”
Cara leaned back and gawked at him. “She did what?”
“She filed reports against you. The police wondered if you might be fabricating things.”
“They think I’m lying?”
He held her hand. “No, I don’t think they really think that. Not after I set them straight, anyway.”
Cara wasn’t so sure. Amber might have cast some spells at the police station.
David tugged her hand.
She gritted her teeth.
His expression turned serious. “Don’t let Amber’s games get you down. She doesn’t deserve our attention.”
“Amen to that.” She sighed and mussed his hair. “Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure,” he said and leaned back against the futon.
“What flavor?”
“Your choice.”
From the lower cabinet of the armoire against the opposite wall, she selected a thriller and inserted it in the player. She brought David the remote and he set it down on the futon. He took both her hands in his, which felt like soft heating pads.
“Did you hear my dad’s message?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I hope you won’t dislike him for it.”
“I didn’t completely understand it, actually.”
“Remember when you found me on the beach by Surfseekers, after my dad and I had an argument?”
“Yeah?”
“That argument was about you.”
She tried to make sense of that. “We weren’t together then.”
“I’d told my dad about my feelings for you. He wasn’t happy to hear it. And at this point, I think he’s worried I’ll run off with you and he’ll hardly ever see me again.”
“He knows you’re moving to Seattle, right?”
“Yeah. But he’s still trying to control me financially.”
“You can always get financial aid if you need to. And Seattle isn’t far from the Tri-Cities. You’ll be able to visit your dad as often as you want to.”
“He thinks he and I will both be happier if I stay in Richland. But that’s not what I want. He needs to get used to the idea that I’m moving on with my life. That’s the only way he can move on with his.”
His last statement spoke to her. “You could say the same thing about my mom.”
“I could see that,” he said, and shared his lopsided grin with her. “Once again, we prove to be a good match.”
She waved him up to help her let the futon down into a full-size mattress. “No sign of Crossback or Bobbi out there today?”
He frowned. “No, but we weren’t near their feeding grounds long.”
She frowned back.
“Don’t worry,” he said, and lay down on his back on the futon mattress. “I just know they’ll show up.”
He turned on his side and used the remote to work on starting the movie. She held up her finger for him to wait for her, then went to the linen closet to grab a pillow for him. On the way back, she stopped in her room to grab her own pillow.
As the movie started, she set the pillows on the futon and curled up against David’s side. Her hand traveled up his chest. She felt a few hairs poking out of his shirt, near his neck, and couldn’t resist the urge to touch them.
She reached under his tee. He tensed when she touched his abdomen, then relaxed when her hand moved up and her fingers ran over his chest. Though minimal, the hair intrigued her. She tugged his flannel top and T-shirt up, but he pulled them back down.
“I’ll behave.” She sat up and pouted down at him. “Please?”
He groaned, sat up, and pulled the shirts over his head. “Let’s have you keep your top on though, okay?” He smiled, but his tone was serious.
He lay back down, with his head turned sideways to watch the movie. She let his soft hairs caress her cheek. His clean, minty muskiness smelled stronger than ever, and yearnings she still needed to gain better control over built up within her.
Practice helped. She breathed in his fragrance and continued to explore with her hand, not paying any attention to the television screen. Her head rose and dipped down with the rise and fall of his breaths.
She must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes, he was sitting next to her, palming her forehead.
“Cara? You’re shivering. Are you all right?”
He’d set her head on her pillow and wrapped her in the quilt from her room. She couldn’t stop shaking and a dull pain throbbed in the middle of her forehead. When she moved, her stomach clenched, and she worried she might throw up.
“I don’t feel so good.” The heat turned up inside her.
“You must have caught something.”
She held her limp arms out to hug him. He leaned down to embrace her and kissed the top of her head.
“Please stay with me,” she said, clinging to him.
“Do you want to move to your bed?”
“Can we please sleep in my mom’s room?”
“Your mom’s room?”
“It’s closer to a bathroom.”
He only hesitated for a second. “Right.”
He carried her down the hall with her pillow and quilt. In the master bedroom, he settled her on her mom’s bed, tucked her pillow under her head, and rearranged the covers. She shoved off the quilt, wriggled out of her jeans, and rolled into a ball on her side. He curled his body around hers.
She woke later, needing to vomit. Her stomach heaved and a stream of bile seared her throat and dribbled onto her pillowcase. David sat up to help her, but she eased his hand off her waist, flung her pillow at the bedroom door, and rushed to the master bathroom.
The feeling that she needed to throw up passed as she knelt in front of the toilet. She pushed herself up and went back to the master bedroom. David sat up in the bed. She waved for him to stay there, grabbed her vomit-soiled pillow from the floor by the door, and staggered down the hall to her bedroom.
When she flicked on her bedroom lig
ht switch, the brightness blinded her. Shooting pain stabbed her in the middle of the forehead and her stomach gurgled. She feared she’d have to rush back to the bathroom.
Walking across the room, she swayed on her feet. She opened the closet door and continued to clutch the doorknob when she tossed her pillow in the hamper. A couple of deep breaths eased her nausea. She flipped the light off on her way out of her room and stood still again in the hall until her eyes adjusted to the dark.
Her dizziness passed. She made a quick stop in the main bathroom to brush her teeth.
Back in her mom’s room, she grabbed one of the pillows propped against the bed’s headboard and lay down with her head on it. David cuddled close to her side and draped his arm across her waist. Now she felt fine. In fact, she was certain she’d never felt better.
* * *
Cara woke to something soft brushing her cheek. Sitting by her side, David stared down at her and ran his fingers along her face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Much better.” She sat up and smoothed her messy hair. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“You have school in an hour.”
“But I’ve been sick.”
“You don’t feel well enough to go?”
“I guess I do. But I’d rather stay with you.”
He shook his head and stood. “I’m not going to have your mom find out you skipped school to hang out with me while she was out of town. If you feel well enough to go, you should go.”
Cara grimaced, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and got up. “Fine, I’ll go.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Before first period, Cara stood outside her trig classroom and texted David:
I’m hoping you’ll come to my place again after school?
David still hadn’t texted her back when lunch hour came. She dumped the textbooks that filled her backpack in her locker and sat down with Garren and Rachel. She’d neglected to bring a lunch. Thankfully, ever-reliable Garren hadn’t forgotten her apple and Rachel was willing to share her pita bread and hummus.
“What’s got you so upset?” Rachel asked, watching Cara’s hands as she juggled her apple and her phone.
“David spent the night with me for the first time last night.”
Rachel glanced at Garren. “Um, that sounds like a conversation we should save for a private moment?”
Cara shook her head and checked her phone for any new messages. Nothing. “It’s not like that. I felt sick. He took care of me.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Rachel asked.
“I texted him this morning and he hasn’t gotten back to me.”
Garren steadied her hand that fumbled with her cell. “Maybe he’s sick now, too, and isn’t paying attention to his phone.”
“Maybe¸” Cara conceded. But something felt off to her, something more than David possibly feeling sick.
After lunch, she ditched school and drove to David’s house. His truck sat in its usual spot in the driveway. She parked on the street out front and hurried up his front steps, then paused on the porch. The door could be unlocked, and his house key hung on the key chain in her pocket, but she was arriving unannounced.
She knocked. No answer. The door was locked, so she used the key. Inside, she was surrounded by silence. The curtains were drawn over the picture window, draping the interior in a dreary darkness.
She slowly made her way across the living room and drew the curtains open. Milky white light from an overcast sky poured over David, where he lay huddled under a blanket on the couch. His face was pale, except for the shadows under his eyes. He shivered like she had the night before.
Sitting on the edge of the couch beside him, she placed her hand on his forehead. A sheen of cool sweat covered his skin. He let out a soft sigh. She removed her hand, sat up straight, and looked down at him. He didn’t look at her.
“I texted you and got worried when I didn’t hear back. You look like I felt last night. But I bet you’ll get over this quick, like I did.”
He didn’t comment.
“Did you eat or drink anything today?”
Still, he didn’t respond. She went to the fridge and pushed aside diet soda bottles and milk and orange juice cartons to pull out a sports drink. Uncapping it, she brought it over to him.
“Sit up and take a few sips of this.”
He pulled himself up, accepted the bottle, and took a small sip. She sat next to him.
He still didn’t look at her. “You should be at school.” His voice was a weak monotone.
“My mom can’t blame you for my cutting a few classes. I’m a senior and I get good grades. Besides, I was sick last night. And you took care of me. Now you need someone to take care of you.”
He took a bigger sip of the sports drink. “I’m fine. You should be in school.” He set the drink bottle on the coffee table, pushed himself up off the couch, and hobbled to the bathroom.
She heard him retching and wanted to go comfort him, but his uncharacteristic behavior toward her since she’d arrived left her uncertain how to react.
His torture ended and tap water splashed in the bathroom sink. The water shut off and he came back to collapse in a sitting position against the arm of the couch. She covered him with a blanket. He shoved it off.
“I need to apologize to you,” he said, not looking at her.
The tether between them grew frigid. “Apologize?”
“I was wrong to get involved with a high school student.”
Now the tether became a heavy, icy weight attached to her chest. “What are you saying?”
She touched his hand. A fraction of warmth seeped through. His eyebrows pulled together and, for a second, he looked like he didn’t remember what he meant to say.
He pulled away from her touch and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. Please leave.”
Standing, she stared down at him, speechless. Her frozen heart fused with the tether. Any minute now he would start to make some sense. He couldn’t have just told her that what had happened between them was a mistake.
She desperately clung to the possibility that his sickness was disorienting him. He got up and limped off toward his bedroom. In a zombielike state, she walked out, dropped into the driver’s seat of her car, and left him.
* * *
Near a little-known access point at Boulder Beach, she parked on a side street and let her tears flow freely. Exhaustion overcame her. She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her jacket, then pulled the heavy wool blanket from the emergency kit in the back of her Fit.
Garren had persuaded her to create the kit, in case a natural disaster occurred when she moved to Seattle, like the major earthquake that was decades overdue. The ensemble scared Cara more than relieved her because it suggested tragedy in waiting. But now she was grateful for it.
In a similar way, the temperate weather conditions reminded her of the calm before a storm. Stillness hung in the air, making her feel like she was stuck in limbo.
On the beach, she chose a spot not far from the stairs. An automatic brief scan of the ocean’s relatively still surface didn’t reveal any whale activity. She spread the blanket on the sand and crumpled down on it, using her backpack as a pillow. Hugging her knees, she balled up on her side.
She hoped sleep would come easy, so she could avoid rehashing what had just happened. When she thought of how quickly and easily David broke off their relationship, she was reminded of Chris doing the same thing, and her father leaving her mom. Her air supply seemed to cut off. But she couldn’t accept that David, the mature, loving guy who had risked his career and his reputation to be with her in the first place, the only guy she’d ever felt a providential connection with, would suddenly stop caring for her.
Amber had to be involved. Still, whatever the reason for David’s behavior, Cara couldn’t deny that he’d rejected her. She curled up in a tighter ball on the blanket and tried to let the sea hypnotize her. A fresh str
eam of tears tracked down her face. She closed her eyes and the murmur of the ocean lulled her to sleep.
Her eyes blinked open sometime later and she caught a glimpse of a towering, black dorsal fin cutting through the water, not far from shore. Pushing up onto her knees, she saw the transient orca’s snout lift, as if it was acknowledging her, before it dove underwater and lobtailed, slapping its tail flukes against the surface of the water.
Cara glared out to sea, angered that the transients hadn’t left, not wanting to dwell on what they’d done to Crossback and Bobbi, and especially not wanting to accept that there was nothing she could do about any of it.
At home, she couldn’t remember the drive back to her house or how she’d made it to her bedroom, she’d been mired in such a fog of despair. Her pillow was missing from her bed, so she went to her mom’s room to grab another one. She picked up the pillow David had used and pressed it to her face. The scents of his muskiness and his mint shampoo brought on a fresh crop of tears. She took the pillow to her room and buried herself under her covers with it.
* * *
The next morning, Cara woke at 4:00 a.m. and the horrible reality of the previous day threatened to suffocate her. The tether felt irreversibly frozen. She squeezed her eyes shut and lay still until sleep mercifully fell over her again.
When she next woke, it was to her alarm clock beeping an hour before school began. The clear, quiet voice in her head told her to go to her classes. School actually sounded like the perfect distraction. Only, she doubted she could make it through the day without breaking down.
There might not be anything she could do to change David’s mind about breaking up with her. But she held on to the hope that he’d only rejected her because Amber had cast some spell on him. In that case, Cara just needed to find a way to break it.
She washed the tear-stained streaks from her face, brushed her hair, and got dressed. Food didn’t seem appealing, so she skipped breakfast and headed out. When she turned the Fit down David’s block, she stomped on the brake pedal. His truck sat in the driveway, as she’d anticipated. What she didn’t expect to see against the curb in front of his place was a red Jetta.
She pulled over and parked a few doors away, then ran down the street and up David’s steps to beat on his door. There was no answer. She twisted the doorknob, but it was locked. So she flipped through her keys, slipped the one David had given her into the lock, and let herself in.
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