by CeeCee James
“How’re you doing?” the man called as he came closer
“What can I help you with?” Jason bluntly cut to the chase.
“Is Miranda here?”
Jason’s mouth fell open. What’s he want with Miranda? “Maybe. Who are you?”
“I’m sorry. So rude.” The man’s grin widened, revealing perfectly straight white teeth.
Jason’s eyes narrowed.
“My name’s Dylan.” He strode forward, his hand outstretched.
Jason stared at it suspiciously, then slowly reached out to take it. They shook, Jason still withholding his name.
“How do you know Miranda?” Jason asked.
“Oh,” Dylan scratched his chin as he smiled. He glanced at his Rolex. “I guess you could say we’re old acquaintances.”
Jason squinted his eyes. “That’s strange.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’ve known Miranda most of her life and she’s never mentioned you.”
Dylan paused, his eyes flickering at the challenge. His smile reappeared, lips tighter this time. “Well then, you obviously don’t know her as well as you think.”
That’s it. Jason wanted to wipe that smug expression right off his face. “Maybe you were just unimportant enough to slip her mind.”
Dylan laughed. “That was definitely not the case. If anything, I blew her mind.” He stepped back towards his car with a little wink at Jason. “You let her know I was here. But if not, don’t worry. I’ll track her down.”
“Yeah, you better get going.” Jason nodded and clenched his jaw. Images of his fist making good acquaintance with Dylan’s salesman smile flashed through his head.
“Hey. You got a little something on you.” Dylan indicated his cheek with his finger. “Right about here.”
Jason turned away and stalked back into the barn. Archer let out a deep warning bark before following him.
The car door slammed shut. The Audi’s engine revved and it spun around, leaving a circle of dust. After steering around the potholes, the car raced out of the driveway and onto the road.
Jason grabbed the empty oil container from the funnel, and replayed Dylan’s superior attitude in his mind. A voice he’d always battled, his mother’s voice whispered out from the depths where he’d buried it, “You never deserved a girl like her. You destroy everything you touch.” Fury burned through him as he slowly crushed the plastic container in his fist. He looked at it for a second and curled his lip into a snarl before throwing the container against the wall.
“Little snot-nosed creep.” He wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand. At the tone of Jason’s voice Archer scurried from underfoot. Jason slammed the hood down and stormed into the house.
He opened the front door with a crash. Cassie’s head shot up, her eyes wide from where she sat curled on the couch reading a book. “Good grief, what’s got into you?”
Jason stomped across the hardwood floor on the way to the sink. Not answering, he scrubbed at his hands.
Cassie folded the corner over on the page and set the book down next to her, before joining him in the kitchen. “Who pulled into the driveway? Wrong house?”
Jason gritted his teeth. His knuckles shone white as he shut the hot water off.
“Hello?” Cassie tilted her head, eyebrows lifted in confusion.
“Just some punk named Dylan.” Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, he glanced over at her. “You ever heard of him?”
“No. Should I have?” She took another look at him. “What’s the matter with you?”
Jason threw the towel in the dirty laundry basket, his muscles bunching under his shirt. “He said he was looking for Miranda.”
Cassie mouth formed an O. “Weird. No, I’ve never heard her mention him.”
“According to him, they know each other real well.” Jason glared at her.
With a flounce, she headed back to the couch. “Sheesh. It isn’t my fault. Quit making that face at me.”
He tore his gaze away and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just can’t stand how that punk kid tried to stare me down. He drives a fancy car and thinks his crap don’t stink. I’d like to take him down a peg.”
“Well,” Cassie said, “if he’s that type of guy then I don’t expect he meant much to Miranda. She detests that kind of attitude.”
Jason didn’t answer. The muscles in his jaw flexed. Why wouldn’t she tell me about him? What is she hiding? He remembered the day he broke down and cried about his mother’s suicide. Was she with him just out of pity all this time?
“Trust me.” Cassie injected a tone of confidence. “She can’t stand blow-hard snobs.”
“Yeah. Well, this guy seems to think differently.” He glanced at the clock. Still half an hour before Miranda was due home. He chewed the inside of his lip and drummed his fingers on the counter. Finally he spun around and opened the refrigerator. Might as well cook dinner. He pulled out a pack of chicken thighs, and rummaged in the back until he found the barbecue sauce. After setting them on the counter, he spun back and grabbed a beer. Beer and barbecue always worked to clear his mind, and right then, he was in the mood to burn something.
5
Summer
“You remember when you took me up the side of the cliff? How it was a sign of trust?” Miranda asked.
Immediately suspicious, Jason paused mid-bite, his toast hovering inches from his mouth. He still hadn’t mentioned Dylan’s visit to her, and wondered if she’d discovered it somehow. “Yeah?”
“Well,” Miranda’s eyes glowed with anticipation. She picked up her cereal box and returned it to the pantry. “There’s a place I’ve been wanting to take you ever since.”
Jason relaxed and slowly crunched his toast. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh. You’ll love it. I promise. And since we don’t have any plans today, it’s the perfect time to go.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” She sang the last word like an excited child.
“Miranda, I’d never call you annoying, but—”
She shot a look at him. “Quit your complaining and let’s go.”
“Should I change?” He glanced down at his faded t-shirt and holey jeans.
“You’re fine, but that shirt reminds me it’s time to take you clothes shopping.”
“Good. I guess that rules out ballroom dancing.” He pulled at his shirt. “And what’s wrong with my clothes?” The thought of Dylan’s suit flashed through his mind.
She laughed. “Nothing hun. Now let’s go.”
* * *
The cave was dank and cool when they entered it. Scrub bushes grew around piles of fallen rocks outside the entrance. “This is from my list of one hundred places to visit in Washington. I’m on number seventeen now,” Miranda said in a low voice.
“Errr,” Jason started as he ducked his head to avoid the low ceiling. “You sure this is safe?”
“Relax, my love. I’ve been here a thousand times.”
“A thousand times and I’ve never heard about it once?” It made him wonder what other secrets she was keeping.
“Okay, maybe just a couple of times.” Miranda grinned. “But I promise, it’s safe.” She started forward, splashing in a shallow trickle of water running along the floor of the cave. When she didn’t hear him following, she looked back.
He still stood at the entrance, his hands pressed against the ceiling. “I’m not sure about this,” he muttered.
Miranda smiled. “I promise it’ll be okay.” She splashed back to his side and rubbed his arm. “I know it’s scary, but just trust me.”
He rolled his eyes, and when she laughed the sound of it seemed to disappear, as if swallowed by the damp cavernous walls.
“Using that line on me, are you?” he growled.
“I’ve never used a line on you.” She gave him her most innocent look and batted her eyes.
“Right about now I wish I
could just click my heels and poof! I’m sitting on a beach instead of here.”
“You never know, maybe next year.”
Jason scoffed. “From the looks of my bank account, that would be a miracle. Kind of like what I need to get through this right now.” He squinted to see up ahead as the cave walls receded into thick darkness. “I just don’t want my blood sucked by a bat.”
“You’ve been reading too many vampire books.”
“I’d never read a vampire book.” He scowled, offended.
She bit back a smile. “It’s daytime, anyway. Even if there are any bats, they’re asleep now. Just keep your hands off the ceiling. You don’t want to tickle those little buggers awake.”
Jason jerked his hands from the roof of the cave like it was on fire, and shuddered. “I can’t believe you’ve dragged me here.”
She slipped the head lamp from her head and situated it on his. There,” she said, giving the lamp a small adjustment. “You’ll be fine. Now, hold my hand. It’s only narrow here at the entrance.”
Jason’s mouth tightened into a thin line as he gripped her hand. “I don’t like cramped places,” he muttered. They edged up the slick watery track, following Miranda’s flashlight on the ground like wolves chasing after a full moon.
The cave opened up after about twenty feet of slow creeping. A gust of cold air greeted them, alluding to a large empty expanse around them. Jason straightened and took a few steps forward.
Miranda grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back. “Careful!”
“What?”
“Sorry, hun. I haven’t fully explored this part of the cave floor. You need to watch your step. Now check this out.”
Jason gasped as she shone her flashlight along the ceiling. A canopy of thousands of stalactites dripped down from above, sparkling like a crystal chandelier. “Whoa,” he muttered.
”I know, right? Crazy to think this was here all along.” She glanced up with an excited grin, made visible by his headlamp.
She ran the beam of her flashlight along the walls.
Jason rested his arm around her shoulders. He slowly let his breath out and said, “This is pretty incredible.” He squinted, confused, as his headlight caught a dark patch of shimmering blackness.
The darkness shivered.
“Uh, Jason, look down,” Miranda whispered. “I think you may have found the bats.”
“Oh, c’mon,” he muttered, jerking the light away.
“It’s okay. Everything’s good.” Miranda reached for his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
A squeak rose from the dark corner. Jason’s eyes widened, but he straightened his shoulders. “Come at me! I’m not afraid of some scrawny rodent.”
A flutter zoomed passed his head.
“Whoa!” he yelled, ducking.
“All right, you’ve been a good sport. Time to go.” Miranda pushed him ahead of her towards the entrance. The loose stones along the cave bottom rolled under their feet. Building behind them came the muffled squeaks of the bats. “Run!” Miranda’s scream was drowned out by what sounded like a hurricane of flapping wings.
They popped out of the entrance and dove to one side, barely escaping the black torrent of bats behind them.
Falling to the ground, they both lay there gasping.
“I’m shocked at how fast you move with proper motivation,” Miranda finally got out.
“A thousand winged teeth will do that to a person.” Jason heaved to catch his breath, his arm flung across his red face.
“I’ve never even seen a single bat in there before.”
“I’m telling you they wanted to suck my blood. I’m that sweet.”
Miranda ran her hand against the dark hairs on his arm. “Right! I forgot you’re so very irresistible.”
He snorted and rolled over on his side. “How could you possibly forget that?” His green eyes captured hers. “I think you owe me.” He bent over her and kissed her hard on the lips.
“Well, was that worth being chased by bats?” she asked.
Jason flashed his crooked smile. “Don’t make me drag your butt back up the candlestick cliff again.”
Miranda’s laugh froze on her face, and she flushed. “That was a one time deal, buddy.”
“You liked it.”
“I only climbed it to prove I trusted you!”
Jason licked at the corner of his lip. “Trust is important.” Her past relationship with Dylan shot through his mind. He hesitated, wondering if he should bring it up.
“Whatever. Race you back to the car. Last one there cooks dinner.” She brushed off her yoga pants and sprinted ahead.
“Oh great,” Jason sighed. “This is a lose-lose for me.” He grumbled and took off at a slow jog.
Miranda made it to the car first. She danced in a circle, gyrating her hips, as Jason finally loped towards her. “Ha! I beat you!”
“No, I’m just sick of letting the fire alarm be our dinner bell every time you cook.”
“Jason, that only happened—” Miranda paused. It had happened more times than she cared to number out loud.
“Uh huh, yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.” Jason laughed.
Miranda rolled her eyes and climbed into the Jeep.
* * *
Back at the house, Jason pulled a bottled water from the fridge and downed it in a few gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Miranda followed behind and took out her own water.
“Where’d you guys go?” Cassie called from the living room.
“We went out to Beckler Ridge and explored the cave,” Miranda answered.
“That place is creepy. You guys are crazy.” Cassie walked into the kitchen, scooping her blonde hair back into a ponytail.
Miranda shrugged. “It’s cool to explore. In the back there its like a jewelry box.”
“I went to keep an eye on her.” Jason gestured to Miranda with a tip of his head.
“You guys are cute.”
“Speaking of cute, what’s new with What’s-his-name?” Jason asked.
Cassie put her hands on her hips. “You’re still not saying his name?”
Jason pulled out a package of hamburger and scowled. “Maybe never.”
“Still as stubborn as anything.” Cassie shook her head. “Leif is fine. He sent me a letter today.”
“Things are going good then?” Miranda asked.
“Yes.” Cassie blushed and twirled around.
Jason made a gagging noise. Turning away, he yanked down one of the hanging frying pans and slammed it on the stove.
“Dinner time.” Miranda smiled. “He lost the race so he’s cooking,” she whispered to Cassie.
“Thank goodness,” Cassie muttered, then ducked the towel Miranda threw at her. “What? I’m just saying you hate to cook.”
“Oh, I know what you were saying.”
Jason smiled at their rapport, and tried to ignore the internal nagging voice that maybe, with a guy like Dylan, Miranda would be on vacation right now, exploring something exotic. With someone else to permanently cook for her.
6
Jason 16 years old
The house crackled with nervous energy. Even Jason felt edgy, and he wasn’t the one starting his first day of school. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from Uncle Stew, glancing at the old man to see if he felt it too.
Uncle Stew looked up from his newspaper and caught Jason’s gaze, acknowledging it with a nod. His grey head bobbed as he blew on his coffee and took a leisurely sip. Nothing seemed to bother him.
Jason flashed back to the day Uncle Stew had invited the three homeless kids to stay with him, after finding them lost in the city. “I don’t have a family. You three need a family. Seems like a perfect match.” From that day forward, the old man had opened his house to them, treating them like his own flesh and blood.
“Well, young man,” Uncle Stew began, his words carrying an echo of a wheeze. “What do you have planned for today?”
> Jason twirled the mug in front of him, leaving wet circles on the counter top. “I figure I’ll be studying for my GED. Need to get that done so I can get a job.”
The old man nodded, his blue eyes bright and youthful looking, in contrast to his white eyebrows. “You’ll get it done. I have faith in you.”
Jason snorted. “Well, we’ll see about that. Don’t be putting too much faith in me just yet.”
“In the end it doesn’t matter the amount of faith someone has in you. All that matters is the faith you have in yourself.” The old man nodded.
Jason lowered his head and studied his coffee—anything to avoid responding. You don’t know who I really am and where I came from. Two druggie parents don’t make anything but garbage.
The sound of footsteps clattering down wooden stairs saved him. Relieved, he watched Miranda run into the kitchen.
“Has anyone seen my boots?” she asked. Her eyes were wild and stressed as she searched the room.
“Right over there.” Jason pointed to where her ankle boots leaned against the pantry.
“Oh my gosh! Who put them here?” she shrieked, clutching them to her chest.
“That mysterious person would be you,” Jason answered.
Uncle Stew didn’t say anything, but stroked his beard, his hand hiding his smile.
Miranda made a face at Jason and sat on the floor to put them on. Her glossy brown hair slipped over one shoulder as she bent to unzip the side.
“You look nice,” Jason said.
“Thanks.” She slid a finger into the heel of her boot and zipped it. “Cassie!” she yelled as she stood.
“What?” Cassie called from upstairs.
“Get down here!” Miranda demanded.
Her ten-year-old sister clunked down the stairs, blonde hair in a fuzzy cloud around her head. She wore a plaid skirt and white button shirt. One hand held a brush, while the other was attempting to tuck in the front of her shirt. “I don’t get why I have to wear this.” Her freckled nose wrinkled.
“It’s a uniform. All the girls at your school have to wear it.” Miranda took the brush from her sister’s hand. “Turn around.”