Ever since spending winter break with the Sumners, William had felt like he and Joy were out of kilter. In the weeks since classes had started up again, they had been spending more time apart—more than could be explained by working on their senior projects and homework. Joy seemed kind of distant, and William wondered if she was having second thoughts about their engagement.
Because he sure was. He was still as fond of Joy as ever, but somehow his old crush on Maddie had flared up again—even stronger than before, if that was possible. He found himself watching her, daydreaming about her when he should have been focusing on schoolwork, bewitched all over again by her voice, her eyes, the soft curve of her mouth… and other soft curves that he had to drag his eyes away from with a huge effort of will.
And now here she was, telling him that she… wanted him?
“Why?” was his first reaction.
Her smile was impish. “Fishing for compliments?”
“It’s just that we’ve known each other for years, and you never seemed the least bit interested in me.” Not even when all his systems had been on high alert for the slightest sign that she might feel anything for him. “So why now?”
“Fair question,” she said, and tilted her head to one side as she looked at him thoughtfully. The gesture made her glossy hair swing, and he had an almost irresistible urge to run his fingers through it. “I don’t really know, myself. Maybe it just took all this time for me to figure out what a great guy you are. Maybe it took you being engaged and off the market. Or maybe I just had some kind of late New Year’s epiphany. I just know that I’m in love with you, and I feel really sure you and I belong together.” She gave him another one of those smiles that made the ground drop out from under him. “So, what do you say? I know at one point you were into me. Do you still feel that way?”
She was actually serious. She, Maddie, was in love with him. Euphoria seemed to expand his chest until he felt like he might lift off and float up into the air. “Definitely,” he managed to say. “More than ever.”
But then, even as her eyes warmed with pleasure, he fell abruptly back to earth. “I can’t do that to Joy,” he said. “Just dump her like that when we’re engaged.”
“Well, obviously you’ll need to tell her what’s going on. That’s why I asked her to meet us here.”
“You what?”
“Why do you sound so shocked? I’m not going to go behind Joy’s back. She’s too nice to do that to.”
“I’m not arguing, it’s just…” It was just so premeditated.
“You think I’m being too bossy? That’s part of the Maddie package, I’m afraid. You’ll just have to get used to it.” She didn’t seem to be worried about that. And to tell the truth, when she looked at him like this and his belly started to turn slow cartwheels, he knew he would put up with a lot worse for the chance to be with her.
When Joy arrived and Maddie informed her that her engagement was over, she looked just as taken aback as William had been. “You’re sabotaging our relationship?”
“It isn’t sabotage, it’s just strategic reconfiguring,” said Maddie cheerfully. “You two are wrong together, and I’m trying to make things right. Nothing personal. I hope you and William will stay friends.”
Joy was still getting her head around it. “But… what makes you think William and I aren’t in love with each other?”
“I’ve watched you together,” said Maddie promptly. “There’s no chemistry. Tell the truth: you two aren’t hot for each other, are you?”
If he was honest with himself, William couldn’t imagine being driven wild with passion for Joy. Not that she wasn’t cute, and sweet, but… he snuck a glance at her and found her glancing sideways at him. Both hastily looked away.
“That’s a really personal question, Maddie,” Joy said, not committing herself.
Maddie took that as her answer. “I’m right, aren’t I? When you two are together, you don’t feel that excitement and anticipation, that urge to peel each other’s clothes off and get skin on skin.”
“Maddie, take it easy.” He wished she’d stop calling up those mental images in his mind. Thoughts like that about Joy just seemed awkward, but when he pictured Maddie instead… he couldn’t stop picturing her that way. His face felt as if it were on fire. So did other parts of his anatomy.
“Okay, so maybe we don’t have that chemistry,” said Joy, who was also blushing. “But is that really so important? I mean, everyone says relationships should be built on trust and common interests and stuff like that.”
“Of course it’s important! Without pantsfeelings, you’ll never be more than friends.”
Now Joy looked perplexed. “But you told me once that chemistry didn’t mean anything,” she said. “That it just led to fighting and scr—uh—bad breakups.”
It was Maddie’s turn to look confused. “I said that? When?”
“I… don’t remember, exactly.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Maddie, her moment of uncertainty passing. “The important thing is, I love William, and he loves me.”
“Is that true, William?” asked Joy—a little wistfully, he thought.
The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. But one look at Maddie’s face, feeling that dizzying rush of emotion when their eyes met, and he knew she was the only girl for him. If this was cards-on-the-table time, he had to be honest.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, as gently as he could. “I wasn’t lying to you, Joy, I promise. I honestly thought I’d stopped loving Maddie and that you and I were right together. But now I realize I made a mistake.”
Joy, after a moment, gave a little nod. “Well, I guess you can’t help the way you feel.”
If she’d meant to say more, she didn’t get the chance. “Admit it,” said Maddie. “You know deep down that you and William aren’t right together. Otherwise you’d be clawing my eyes out right now—and I’d deserve it. So everything’s settled, then? Great! I’ll get us some lattes. A shot of caramel for you, William, right? And mochaccino for Joy?” She bounced off to the counter, leaving the two of them alone.
Joy sat in silence, and he couldn’t read her face. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked her. “Because if you’re not…” He stopped. He didn’t have a counteroffer.
But she let him off the hook. “Don’t be silly,” she said at once. “I can’t force you to stay engaged to me. Anyway, it’s obvious you should be with her.” She seemed calm enough, thank god: no signs of a meltdown, but then Joy had always been low-drama. “And I have to admit I’ve been a crummy girlfriend lately,” she added ruefully. “I’ve been kind of off in my own little world. No wonder you want to be with someone else.”
“It’s not anything you did,” he said. “I think Maddie’s right about needing chemistry. I mean, I don’t think it’s everything, but it’s important. And if we’re both honest, I don’t think you and I ever had it.”
“I guess you’re right. I just thought it was something that would come in time.”
“Maybe that’s not how it works. Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone?”
Without intending to, he seemed to have hurt her. Her face crumpled, and she said almost inaudibly to the tabletop, “I don’t know.”
His conscience pinged him, and he reached out to touch her shoulder so she’d look up. “We’re still best friends,” he told her. “Anything I can do for you, I will. You know that, right?”
Her face cleared, and her smile was almost normal. “Same here,” she said. “Whenever you need a third wheel, just holler.”
“As far as third wheels go,” said Maddie, plunking three lattes down on the table and sliding into the booth next to William as if it were the most natural thing in the world, instead of the very first time, “there’s a guy for you, if we can just find him.”
Joy gave her an apprehensive look. “Maddie, you don’t have to fix me up with anyone. I’m okay, really.”
“Don’t get in a panic, I don�
�t mean just anyone. There’s one specific guy you’re supposed to be with, and it’s driving me crazy that I can’t remember him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He’s somebody we know—or knew. And I have the strongest feeling that you and he are meant to be together. But something’s wrong with my memory and I can’t get a fix on him anymore.” She sighed with what seemed like genuine frustration, but she could have been acting. William wondered if she was just making this up to make Joy feel better.
Joy looked as if she was wondering the same thing. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said.
“It is, isn’t it?” Maddie agreed. “Now, I don’t want to rub anything in, so I’m giving you fair warning: you may want to look the other way for a few minutes, check your email or something. I’m going to kiss William, and I’m not going to rush it.” Then she turned to him. Softly she said, “If that’s okay with you.”
Okay? Okay? He could barely restrain himself from jumping onto the tabletop to do a victory dance. Maddie’s blue-grey eyes gazed into his, and her shiny glossed lips were soft and inviting. She took hold of his shirt front to draw him closer, and a roaring sound began to grow in his ears. Probably it was just a head rush, but it almost sounded like thousands of people cheering.
“See you later, guys,” said Joy, sliding out of the booth. But William barely heard her through the sound of the crowd that was now singing “We Are the Champions” in his head.
* * *
Joy was surprised at how easy it was to get over the end of her engagement. William and Maddie were so obviously crazy about each other that it was kind of sweet seeing them together—and even hanging out with them from time to time, because they made it clear that they wanted to keep her as a friend.
But Joy was so preoccupied these days that it took almost more concentration than she had to even take part in a conversation. All she could think about was the strange dreams she had every night.
They were all very detailed, even if it was just mundane details. There was dialogue. And they were all about the same thing: a life she was leading with a guy she loved, who she’d never met in real life.
“Wish fulfillment,” was Clark’s verdict. “Sex dreams about a gorgeous imaginary guy are pretty standard.”
“She didn’t say they were sex dreams,” Tasha corrected.
“Well, some of them are,” admitted Joy. She had stayed on campus for supper one night, waiting out her dad’s office hours, and she’d asked Tasha to stay so she could get her opinion. Clark, unasked, had joined them as soon as he scented a mystery. He wasn’t the ideal confidant, as far as Joy was concerned—he seemed incapable of taking anything seriously—but for all she knew it might help to get a guy’s perspective.
“I knew it!” he said now. “Anything kinky, or pure vanilla?”
“I’m sure you’d call it vanilla. But it’s… amazing.” Granted, she had no real-life experience to judge it against. But it felt so powerful, the way they related to each other. With every touch he showed her how much he cherished her. “And there is one, um, unusual factor,” she added, and had to look away from Clark’s eager expression. “In the dreams I’m pregnant. Like, really big.”
“Wow,” he said blankly. “I wonder what Freud would say about that?”
Tasha thought this over. “In your dreams, are you happy to be pregnant? Or is it something you’re scared of or worried about?”
“A little worried, but mostly happy. In some of the dreams we’re getting ready for the baby, buying clothes for her, or—”
“You know it’s a girl?”
“Yeah.” She fell silent a moment, remembering how excited she and her dream boyfriend were about the baby. He was learning lullabies to play on his guitar, and they’d talk about how they’d rearrange the furniture in Joy’s room to make room for the three of them. They were cozy dreams, low on drama, but filled with a contentment so perfect that every morning when she woke alone she was filled with a terrible sense of loss.
“Tell us more about the guy,” said Tasha, and Joy tried. It was difficult to boil all of the dreamed impressions into a short description, because she had seen so many different sides of him.
“Something bad happened in his past,” she said. “And somehow I helped him through it. So it’s bonded us. Before you ask, I don’t know what it was. We avoid talking about it, I think. Mostly the dreams are just everyday things, like him telling me about his day at work, or us cooking supper together, or watching a movie. We’re living with my parents until we can afford a place of our own.”
“So why do they bother you so much?” asked Tasha. “If there’s nothing dramatic happening, and they’re only sexy sometimes, why do they stay on your mind like you say they do?”
She drew listless tracks with her fork through her uneaten mashed potatoes. “I feel such a strong sense of belonging with him. Waking up alone—it’s like I’m missing part of myself. Sometimes during the day when something interesting happens I’ll even catch myself thinking, I can tell him about this when I see him tonight, before I remember he isn’t real.”
“Maybe you’re missing William,” Tasha suggested. “Maybe your mind is filling in this fantasy relationship to take his place.”
“I guess that could be it.” Even though she’d never felt as powerful a bond with William as she did to her dream man. That was probably the nature of dreams, though—they provided what waking life didn’t or couldn’t. Maybe no real-life relationship could live up to the happiness her own mind had concocted. And maybe Maddie had planted the idea in her head, with her talk about a mystery man Joy was supposed to be with. “He’s so specific, though. He’s not some generic fantasy. I know what foods he likes and doesn’t like, and that he can’t stand raised voices in an argument, and doesn’t like me wearing white. And he loves Tom Waits, and I don’t, so that doesn’t seem like something my own mind would invent. He’s good with motors and engines, but he’s still getting the hang of loading the dishwasher. He likes Christopher Moore better than Terry Pratchett. He’s got a mole on his neck that usually gets airbrushed out. He feels real.”
“Could it be that he is real?” Clark suggested. “I know this’ll sound woo-woo, but could your mind be getting glimpses of someone who’s really out there somewhere, who you haven’t met yet? Maybe it’s even some kind of parallel life, and you’re seeing what’s happening to some other girl somewhere.”
Joy wrinkled her forehead. It did sound ridiculous.
Tasha was skeptical too. “You’ve been watching too many Fringe reruns,” she told Clark.
“What’s your theory, then, Miss Perfect?”
“Joy could have seen this guy’s picture somewhere, or read about him, and her mind’s filling in the rest to make her life more interesting. Like you said before—wish fulfillment.”
“Possible,” Clark conceded. “It’s only natural that your mind would want to save you from the excruciating boredom of small-town life.”
Another problem was that she wasn’t sure she could even trust her own judgment anymore about what was likely versus loopy. She was getting a feeling of déjà vu from this actual conversation. It felt like she’d sat in the dining hall some evening before with Tasha and Clark and talked about this guy. She knew that hadn’t happened, but she could almost see it, could even picture Tasha throwing a dinner roll at Clark for saying something outrageous. Or maybe that was just because she knew her friends so well.
“What was that about airbrushing?” Clark asked now.
“Oh, didn’t I say? He’s an ex-model.”
Clark put down his fork to give her his full attention. “You’re having sex dreams about a male model? You have all the luck, Joy. I prime my subconscious with all kinds of raw material—and I do mean raw—and it doesn’t cooperate nearly as much as yours.”
“What does he do now instead of modeling?” asked Tasha.
“You really think he exists?”
“
I don’t know, I’m just trying to learn all I can.”
“Well, in my dreams he works at a motorcycle shop on Highway 64. But—”
“But what?”
She couldn’t meet Tasha’s patient, inquiring gaze. “There is a motorcycle shop on Highway 64. I drove out there one day and looked around. But there wasn’t anybody there who looked like him. Just this one huge biker guy with a beard a yard long, and this nice good ol’ boy type in his forties who seemed to be the owner.”
“Did you ask after Gorgeous?” asked Clark.
“How could I? I don’t know his name. I do in my dreams, but when I wake up I can’t remember it.”
Tasha pushed her tray aside and got out her phone. “I’m going to take notes,” she said. “It’s time to get organized about this.”
“How will that help?”
“If this guy is real, we need to find out who and where he is. Let’s be logical. Where would you be most likely to meet a boyfriend? School, for a start. You can look through the directory and old yearbooks, in case he graduated already. Where else?”
“The animal shelter where I helped out last summer, I guess. Um, sometimes I meet musicians Mom works with. Students, or local bands, or sometimes people who fly in to record with her.”
“And see what you can find out about the motorcycle shop,” Clark added. “See if they have staff listed on the website. Check out music forums for guitarists and Tom Waits fans.”
Tasha noted it all down on her phone. When they’d run out of ideas, she said, “I’m sending you all this now. It’ll give you a place to start researching.”
“Thanks, Tash.” She felt a little more hopeful now. At least she had some ideas of where to look for the answers.
“What you really need is a police sketch artist,” said Clark. “With a picture of this guy, you could post it online and see whose flagpole salutes.”
“I think you mean—”
Among the Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles) Page 17