by Lily Cahill
“I can’t help you, Cora,” she said, and strode away on her smart black ballet flats, but Cora followed.
“Please, June. Just give me five minutes. I’ve looked for him everywhere and I can’t find him. I’m worried.”
They’d arrived in front of the diner, its neon sign glowing OPEN in bright pink letters. June put her hand on the thick chrome door handle, then huffed, irritated, and pulled her hand back. “Well that figures,” she said under her breath.
“What’s the matter?”
“I just gave away my lunch money, that’s what.”
Cora searched her pockets, came up with a quarter. “Here. Take it.”
June sighed. “I’m not taking your money, Cora. And I’m not telling you where he is.”
“Then you know? Is he okay?”
“What do you care? Didn’t you already break his heart enough?”
“That’s not what happened.”
“So what did happen?”
Cora didn’t know how to explain it to her. She couldn’t exactly tell June what had happened between them. But she could see June wasn’t going to give her any information if she didn’t.
“He did something by accident. Something bad. To me. I can’t tell you more than that except to say he was very upset. He feels he’s to blame, and now he’s disappeared. And it’s partly my fault. I have to make it right.”
June seemed to soften a bit.
“Please. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
June let out a breath. “A bunch of people went up camping on Jubilation. I’m pretty sure he’s with them.”
“Then he didn’t leave town?”
“No. The trip’s been planned for ages, but he begged off last week because … well, because of you, I think. But he must have changed his mind. He left this morning with everybody else. And he was in a really bad mood.”
“Do you know where they are on the mountain? I really need to speak with him.”
June hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowed. “Clayton is a good friend of mine, Cora. And for some reason, he really seems to care about you.”
“I care about him too.”
“I don’t want to see him hurt. He’s a good person. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Cora softened. It touched her heart that Clayton had such a good friend.
“I don’t want that either. I love him, June.”
“Okay. Hopefully the others aren’t too upset I gave you this, but ….” June pulled out a small notebook and wrote out directions to the campsite.
Cora would have to borrow a car to get there, but she could figure that out. She could ask Danny. He was a mechanic and was always tinkering on something. She would probably have to wait until after dinner to sneak away, but she knew he would come through. He had always been kinder than any of Butch’s other friends. Sometimes she wondered where Butch would be without his influence.
“Please don’t make me regret this,” June said.
“I won’t. Thank you,” Cora said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Clayton
Clayton sat by the fire, a flask of bourbon in his hands. This trip had been a dumb idea. Everyone around him was singing, jovial, cracking jokes and telling stories. The group was mostly couples, sitting close and cuddling near the flames. Their happy faces flickered back to him through the firelight, a mocking brightness against a sky gone inky black.
All he could think about was Cora. He’d had word from the doctor that she’d woken up in better health yesterday morning, and it had made him ache not to go see her for himself. What if Dr. Pinkerton had been wrong? What if he’d caused more damage than they realized? It was all such a mess.
Next to him, Will and Meg leaned into each other and shared a long kiss.
“Do you mind?” he said, shooting them an irritated look.
“Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you have to make everyone else miserable too,” Will shot back.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t it turn out exactly like you said it should?”
Will rolled his eyes. “Grow up.”
Meg looked from Will to Clayton and back again. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Clayton said, going back to his flask.
“Will?” Meg asked. “Is everything okay?” Will obviously hadn’t told her about the talk Clayton had had with his parents regarding Cora. Considering how things had turned out, it was probably for the best.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about, darling,” Will said. “He’s fine.”
“He’s obviously not fine,” Meg said. “And neither are you. What’s gotten into the two of you? I’ve never seen you act so awful toward each other.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business for once?” Clayton said.
Will had his fist balled in Clayton’s shirt before Clayton even saw what was happening.
“Get your hands off me,” Clayton warned. If he wasn’t a ticking time bomb, he would have goaded Will to punch him. Somebody should. He deserved it. He deserved worse.
To his annoyance, Will wasn’t letting go. But thankfully his powers didn’t seem to be kicking up just then. Apparently that only happened with the person he cared about most in the world.
“You don’t speak to her like that,” Will said. “I know you’re feeling low, but that has nothing to do with her.”
Will was right. This was his fault, no one else’s. Meg was just trying to help. What was wrong with him? Did he have to hurt everyone in his life?
“Sorry, Meg,” he said. “Really. I didn’t mean it. You can butt into my business any time.”
The paltry attempt at humor was enough to get Will to loosen his grip.
“I’m gonna take a walk,” Clayton said, swigging his flask again. The harsh liquid bit as it went down. He liked the sting. He needed it.
“Why don’t you slow down a little, brother,” Will said, gesturing to the flask.
“I told you, I’m fine.” He could handle his liquor. He didn’t need his older brother babysitting him.
“Jeez, Clay. It’s not even nine. Maybe I better hold on to that for the rest of the night,” Will said, reaching toward Clayton.
Clayton pulled his hand away from Will’s. It wasn’t safe for anyone to touch him ever again. “Leave me alone.” Will looked mad, and again, Clayton had the strong urge to push him just a little bit further. A fight would feel so damn good.
But then there was a soft touch at his elbow. “Did I hear you say you wanted to go for a walk? I could really stretch my legs.”
Clayton jerked his elbow away and looked over. It was Violet. She was the last person he wanted to see right now. She was bound to pry.
It suddenly occurred to him that maybe she would be his perfect match. He could never be in danger of loving Violet, and so would never be in danger of hurting her. He laughed. He should tell his parents so they could have their job done faster.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
Clayton realized that they were all staring at him—Violet, Will, Meg. They must think he was going crazy.
Maybe he was.
“Nothing,” he said. “Excuse me.”
Violet followed, “I thought you said we were going on a walk?”
“No. You said that, Violet. I said I was going on a walk.”
“Come on now, Clay. Don’t be a stick in the mud. Let me tag along. I promise to do at least three things to cheer you up.”
“Please just leave me alone,” he said as he tromped further away from the fire.
“How about a handstand? I do a marvelous handstand. Or I could whistle. I have to warn you, though. I’m a terrible whistler. Truly awful. The plus side is that I don’t mind if you point and laugh. I’m quite immune to it, actually.”
“Just stop, Vi. I’m not in the mood.”
But she continued to follow him. “You’re always so dramatic. If you weren’t so handsome, people would never forgive you for it.”
It was exactly things like that which had made him break up with Violet in the first place. She was always making little comments that sounded like compliments, but were actually insults. You always felt like a little bit of an ass around her. He had no patience for it tonight.
“Please go back to the campfire.”
She jogged up beside him and plucked the flask out of his hand, taking a long swig. “Or what?” she said, a smile curling her lips.
Clayton took a deep breath, doing everything in his power to control his temper. She was trying to be cute, but she had no idea what he was capable of.
“Honestly, Clay, you used to be fun.”
“Well, I’m not anymore.”
“Please tell me this isn’t because of that girl.”
“What girl?”
“Oh, please. I’m not a complete idiot.”
Clayton practically growled his next words. “There is no girl.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “You can’t seriously be this distraught over Cora Murphy.”
That was it. He’d had enough. He snatched the flask back from her.
“I don’t want you, Violet. I don’t want you and I never will want you. So leave me the hell alone.”
Violet’s face froze, her usual smile still hanging there for an instant—though her bright lavender eyes had already registered his words. He thought he saw them glisten with the hint of tears.
“Poor little Clayton Briggs,” she said. “How does it feel to finally not get something you want?”
“Just go, Violet.”
She lifted her chin, “At least I would have wanted you for love, not money,” she said, then stomped away.
Clayton wandered into the darkness of the forest until he reached the old dirt road they’d driven up to get to the campsite. He followed the road down a ways as it meandered beside a stream, kicking a rock ahead of his feet. The bourbon was gone now, and he doubted anyone would be willing to refill his flask. Will had probably warned them all by now. Or Violet. God, he’d been an ass to her. What was wrong with him?
An owl hooted against the moon as he continued walking, the image of Cora’s ashen face stuck in his mind. Maybe he’d walk all the way home and forget this whole trip. As he walked, the fresh mountain air filled his lungs. But instead of making him feel better, it made him feel worse. It was too sharp, too pure, and made his thoughts clearer rather than duller. He didn’t want to think about Cora anymore. It hurt too much. But she was the only thing intruding on his thoughts.
He remembered how lovely she looked at the Firelight Festival, her eyes so damn blue it gave him the same feeling as dipping his toe in the lake just as the ice had broken. He wished he could see her now. Wished he could hold her in his arms and make what happened vanish.
But it had happened. He’d touched her in anger. It was unforgivable. And there was nothing he could do about it now but stay away.
A pair of headlights caught him, driving up the road. He covered his eyes, tried to make out who the truck belonged to, but didn’t recognize it.
The vehicle slowed to a stop and the driver got out, walking in front of the bright beams—splitting them in a hazy silhouette.
He was hallucinating—he must be—because, God, the silhouette looked exactly like Cora’s.
“Clayton? Is that you?” Her voice—Cora’s voice—called out to him from the glaring light.
“What are you doing here?” he said, turning around. Everything in him wanted to scoop her up and hold her tightly to him. But he wouldn’t allow himself to do it.
“Don’t you walk away from me, Clayton Briggs,” she said. Her voice was strong, direct. It was the same tone she’d used when she was reaming him out on their first date. “I want to talk to you. You owe me that much.”
Clayton stopped. She was right. He’d hoped she’d be angry with him and leave town. But she didn’t. She’d stayed. He owed her an explanation.
“I’m no good for you, Cora. You know that.”
“It was an accident,” she said.
“I lost control and it could happen again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You couldn’t. I know you couldn’t. Not now that you know it’s possible.”
The moon was bright above them, the stream tumbling over the rocks—the smell of the water drifted around them in a fragrant cloud. In the far distance, Clayton could make out the sounds of what must be the whole group singing around the campfire.
“Please, Clayton. I could understand if you decided it was too complicated with our families or that I wouldn’t fit in your world or even if you found someone else. But this? I couldn’t stand it if I thought I lost you over this.” Cora took a step toward him.
“Don’t come any closer.”
But she didn’t stop. Instead, she continued forward. He stepped back twice for every step she took.
What was she doing? Didn’t she understand? Every moment in her presence was torture, a battle of wills between what he wanted and what was best for her. He couldn’t linger here, or he’d risk losing his resolve.
“It has to be this way, Cora. I’m too dangerous for you. I’m sorry.”
He walked away from her again, turned his back on her. But this time, he didn’t hear her protest. Instead, he heard something else. There was a loud whoosh, and suddenly he seemed to be trapped inside a hurricane of water that she’d summoned from the nearby stream. He whirled around. And right there, in the center of the swirling madness, was Cora. Not six inches between them.
She had her lips on his in a flash—those lush lips—he couldn’t bear it, couldn’t control it. She tasted so good. He felt himself giving in to it, giving in to her. He delved into the kiss. Let himself taste, let himself tangle his fingers in her hair.
Then he remembered her face—how pale it had been when he’d done what he’d done, how he’d thought he’d already lost her. How he had simultaneously craved more. He pulled away and tried to step back, directly into the swirling wall of water. The blast of icy wetness killed whatever was left of the bourbon in his system.
“No. Stop it, Cora. I can’t be this close to you.”
“I trust you,” she said. “Don’t you see that?”
“Well, you shouldn’t. I’m a menace. Especially to you.”
“I’m willing to take the risk.”
She didn’t understand—perhaps couldn’t understand—what it was like to care so much about a person that you were willing to lose them to protect them. “I can’t risk hurting you again.”
“You did hurt me, Clayton. Deeper than I’ve ever been hurt before. But it wasn’t what you did with your power. It was how you reacted afterward,” she said. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought you were finally finished with me and ready to move on.”
“I’m doing this because I love you, Cora. Not because I don’t.”
“That was the worst feeling I’ve ever had in my entire life. You can’t do that to me again. I won’t let you. I won’t let you throw this away because of a stupid accident.”
Couldn’t she understand how he was hurting too? How hard it was to separate himself from her for even the last two days?
“I won’t put you in danger again, Cora.”
“So don’t,” she said.
Finally, she was listening to reason. He waited for the water to come crashing down around them, for a flood to splash to the earth, to see her run from him and this time be gone forever. But the moment passed, and nothing had changed. The water still churned around him. She wasn’t letting him go.
“Practice instead,” she said.
“Cora—”
“No. Listen. You’ve refused to use your powers, Clayton. That’s why they’re so unpredictable. When I first tried using mine, I could barely move the water inside a glass. But now?” She gestured to the whirlwind of water swirling around them. “It gets easier every time. I can handle more, do things I’d never thought possible. But it’s only because I practiced.”
“It’s too d
angerous to practice. I could kill someone.”
“And you don’t think I could kill someone? I could have killed you twice, but we survived it together. That’s all I’m asking—that you let me help you try.”
He didn’t know what to say. Everything in him wanted to say yes. But the yes felt selfish. It felt like wishful thinking that there was a solution—any way at all to have greater control over what he could do.
But then again … could she be right? He had barely used his powers. The most had been the night he’d gone out to test them by himself. Almost every time had ended badly. How could it be worth the risk?
“It will only get worse,” she said. “Your powers are growing, Clayton. And so are mine. I think the more you ignore it, the harder it will be to control. What if it happened with somebody else? You’d be locked up, treated like a criminal. And you can’t just avoid touching people forever.”
He could. And he would in a heartbeat if it meant he never had to see her so close to death ever again.
“I swear to you, Clayton, I will not just sit by and watch you leave me over this—let you ruin your life over one mistake. If you don’t let me help you, I won’t leave you alone. I’ll use the money you gave me to follow wherever you run to.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“I’m not,” Cora said. “You don’t deserve a life of hiding, of worry. But that’s what you’re insisting on if you don’t learn how to control this now.”
“What other choice do I have?”
“You can choose to trust me. Trust me like I trusted you.”
He looked into her eyes, really looked into them this time. She was so confident. And he wanted to believe her. He really did.
“Give me a week,” she said. “Let me help you train. If you still feel the same afterward, then I’ll respect your wishes.”
“I can’t let you do that. You’d be putting yourself at risk.”
“We can take precautions, Clayton. I’ll keep my distance.”
Clayton considered her offer. Her eyes were so clear, so resolute.
“You would promise not to touch me?” he asked.
“If that’s what you want.”