“But you just…you could’ve…” Natalie’s voice dwindled out and came back in a growl. “I’m going to give you a back injury if you try anything like that again.”
“Oh, you care?”
Natalie could tell that Jaycee had meant for the words to come out drenched in her usual sarcasm. Instead they sprang out like a startled truth, wedging a silence between the girls that was stained with history.
Jaycee looked away first. “I’m having a bad day. You might want to shove off before I unleash on you.”
Natalie gave a short laugh. “Must be really bad. You don’t usually give warnings.”
Bishop and Zach jogged to the swing set. Natalie scooted away from Jaycee, scrubbing away the tears that had appeared way too fast.
“Is she all right?” Bishop asked.
“She’s rather insensitive, considering what she just reenacted, but she’s fine,” Natalie said.
Jaycee sat up, wiping her jean shorts. “Sheesh. You’d think it was her brother who cracked his neck.” She flashed that stupid, infectious Strangelove smile. “Am I right?”
Zach grinned, and Natalie smacked him in the kneecap before she stood up.
“Why do you have to be so dark all the time?” Natalie motioned to the top of the swing set. “And what the hell was that? A sick joke?”
“A dare.”
Natalie rolled her eyes. “You see what I’m doing, Jaycee? I’m rolling my eyes at you. Because come on. We’re high school graduates. We’re not idiot kids anymore.”
“Speak for yourself,” Zach said. “I want to be an idiot kid for at least four more years.”
“That’s why you’re going to OU,” she snapped. “To drink away your life at frat parties.”
Zach’s glare had more fire than usual; Natalie could thank the Natty Light. “OU is a good enough school for your mom to teach at.”
“Yes, and definitely a good enough school for someone who ends sentences with a preposition.”
Bishop offered Jaycee a hand, hauling her up.
“They always this loveydovey?” Jaycee asked Bishop. He nodded, and Natalie bit back a retort. At Cornell, no one will have heard of Jake and Jaycee Strangelove. Just like no one will have heard of Natalie Cheng. She could be anyone. I am Natalie. I can do this.
Jaycee jammed her feet into her limp canvas shoes, and then the four of them stood there, trading looks and bowing to awkwardness. Natalie could tell that Jaycee was about to overshare like she always did, but Natalie couldn’t think of something else to say fast enough.
“Natalie was my best friend from preschool through seventh grade,” Jaycee said to Bishop. “You wouldn’t’ve guessed it, would you?”
Natalie poked Jaycee in the shoulder. “I was the only one who put up with how you let whatever’s in your head fall out of your mouth.”
“And I put up with you turning forty on your eighth birthday.”
They narrowed their eyes on each other.
“Let’s get along now,” Zach said. “Or hey, better idea, let’s go to Kolenski’s. Three kegs. Three.” He held up three fingers like the gesture might prove essential to his suggestion.
Natalie pushed his hand down, but she polished a smile. “Good idea, Zach.” Maybe Jaycee would come and be social. They’d hang out like old times and get beyond this…whatever…that was between them. “You should come with us.”
“I’m busy.” Jaycee walked away. “I have an anniversary to celebrate,” she called back.
“Jayce!” Natalie was surprised to hear Jaycee’s nickname jump out like that and even more surprised that Jaycee stopped and turned around. The girl’s hair was in a mess of a ponytail, and her worn button-down shirt with the rolled-up sleeves had most definitely been Jake’s. Natalie wondered if the baggy jean shorts were Jake’s too. “This is all super morbid.”
Jaycee shrugged.
“You going to his old hideout?” Natalie asked. “You’ll get caught.”
“Oh yeah, the campus police. I’m shaking in my Chucks.” Jaycee started walking again, up the hill toward The Ridges. It was getting dark, and Natalie watched her get smaller and duck through the trees. Jaycee’s shoulders had a bad hunch to them.
“That girl is an atomic bomb,” Zach said. “Full of explosives. Scary.”
“An atomic bomb isn’t full of explosives. It’s all about fission, a process of nuclei division.” Bishop paused. “Unless you’re talking about an implosion device, which often uses high explosives in order to trigger the fission.”
“That girl is just like an implosion device.” Zach popped Bishop in the shoulder.
Bishop frowned and turned to Natalie. “Why is she sneaking into The Ridges?”
“Her brother loved breaking into abandoned places. The stain room was his favorite.”
“The what room?” Bishop asked with more than a little wonder in his voice.
Natalie shook her head. “Don’t ask. Jake was…intense on the good days, insane on the bad. He died the summer before you moved into town. An accident. Sort of.” The memories were there, waiting to spring. She shoved them down and screwed the lid tight.
“The kid who died on the playground?” Bishop asked, glancing back at the swing set. “Wait, was she really doing what killed—”
“Yes,” Natalie said to hopefully put a stop to all of this. Jaycee’s misery sometimes felt like her own, a leftover bond from their tangled childhoods.
“Always wanted to look around in The Ridges,” Bishop said.
Zach bounced on the balls of his feet. “I broke in once.”
“No, you didn’t.” Natalie crossed her arms. “You went on a haunted hayride around the grounds with Cub Scouts.”
“It was still creepy,” Zach muttered.
She sighed. “We should follow her. I have a bad feeling.”
“Like she’s going to kill herself?” Zach asked. When Natalie glared up at him, he added, “Well, she did just try.”
“She wasn’t trying to kill herself,” Natalie said quickly. “She’s not like that. She just doesn’t have a whole lot of respect for staying alive.”
Bishop laughed, and it was a sound that Natalie hadn’t heard in months—since before Marrakesh went back to England with Bishop’s heart in her pocket like a souvenir. “Well, I’m in.” Bishop started after Jaycee, leaving Natalie and Zach behind.
Natalie closed her eyes tight. Breaking into The Ridges on the night of graduation was not what she wanted, and yet, following Jaycee appealed to her in some aching way. Maybe they could talk tonight. Get all the history out in the open so that when she left in three short months, she wouldn’t have to drag any guilt baggage with her. All the college prep books agreed: travel light.
She took a measured breath and looked to Zach. His sweep of blond hair was touched with gold from the very last of the sun, and his features were sweet. “If I go in there buzzed, the ghosts will freak me out, babe. I’ll piss my pants.”
“I’ll protect you,” Natalie said, taking his hand and heading up the hill. They were good at being alone. When it was just them, she could see under all the manboy to the Zach she’d fallen for at the eighth grade science fair. The Zach she’d gone with to every football game and to whom she’d given her virginity on her eighteenth birthday. And who, just as logically, she’d be breaking up with on the night before she left for Cornell. Long-distance relationships never worked.
Natalie pictured her mantra in Cornell red: I can do this!
The words helped, but not as much as holding on to Zach more tightly. He held her back, which suddenly made her feel awful. The plain truth was that she was cheating on Zach; that’s exactly what it felt like. She was cheating on him with the sexy allure of out-of-state college.
Chapter 4
Zach
Zach Ferris had never regretted a beer so much in his
life. The last beer he’d drank, the one he’d shotgunned before they got in Natalie’s Oldsmobile, was now churning in his stomach and making him notice all the things about The Ridges that he usually avoided.
Like the sound—or lack thereof—up on the hill.
The wind roughed up the trees, but it did nothing to the huge building. Not a thing. It was almost like The Ridges ate it. And then there were the shadows that reached down from the red brick like arms… His imagination got his brain in a headlock, and the tower shifted to life over him, suddenly hailing punches. He shook his head until his Natalie-styled hair covered his eyes. Too much Transformers, he thought bitterly. Balls to you, Michael Bay.
Natalie, Bishop, and Zach followed Jaycee toward the nicest side of The Ridges, where Ohio University had bought and rebuilt part of the main mansion. The daylight took off like a coward, and Zach glanced past the renovated section to the endless stretch of broken, barred windows. Twilight showed off the wingspan of vulture hawks leaving the front tower, and he imagined them swooping down and pecking him in the head.
Why did everything in his imagination always seem like it was about to attack him?
Stupid last beer.
“I’ll freak out, Natalie,” he whispered. “I swear I will. I don’t like the dark. I don’t like decaying things. I couldn’t even go into the nursing home when my pappy was dying. All that paper skin and old bones…”
“I’m scared too, but I need you with me,” she whispered back, her hand as tight on his as it’d ever been. He huffed. Natalie didn’t give him much credit for being smart, and he had half a mind to point out that she wasn’t scared of the old insane asylum. She was terrified of Jaycee.
Zach didn’t blame her. The suicidal girl was freaky. Jaycee had a centerfold body skewed by tomboy clothes, and her speeding-slick sarcasm could nail you to the spot just for glancing. Her constant cloud of I eat men alive kept every guy at school from taking a swing, but it never stopped Natalie from attempting to make peace with her old best friend. Plus, when Natalie was more than two beers deep, she’d talk about Jaycee and cry about needing to get out of this town. Natalie never mentioned that this would also take her out of his life. And if Zach pointed it out? Forget it.
“Too tight. You’re hurting me,” Natalie said, shaking her fingers free from his.
“Sorry.”
Zach watched Bishop reach the spot where Jaycee leaned on the redbrick building, arms folded. They began to talk, but Zach couldn’t make out their words. He stumbled over a large stone in the gravel.
Natalie grabbed his elbow. “Act sober,” she whispered. “Hey,” she said to Jaycee, her voice smooth.
“You two aren’t coming,” Jaycee replied just as smoothly.
Zach took Natalie in his arms, pressing her against his chest and turning her into part shield, part security blanket, a maneuver he’d perfected over their four years together. It really did make him feel better. Natalie Bear, he’d sometimes call her. She hated it, which was a secret perk.
“I’m not letting you in there alone, Jaycee,” Natalie said. “You’ll never come out.”
“Who said I’d be alone?” Jaycee asked. “I’m cool with Bishop coming. He has genuine interest, unlike you.” Natalie glared as Jaycee added, “Besides, Margaret Schilling is always with me up there.”
“Don’t be crazy!” Natalie aimed her pointer finger at Jaycee. Zach knew this mom-warning really well. Apparently so did Jaycee.
“Are you going to ground me, Natalie Cheng?”
Now they stared. Everyone stared. And Zach started to daydream that they might make it to Kolenski and his three kegs after all.
“They’ll be cool,” Bishop said to break the stalemate, and Zach scowled. He didn’t need his buddy to speak up for him. Natalie thought the crap between Bishop and Zach was all about Marrakesh. Nope. Which was proof that Natalie didn’t have a spy hole into his brain like she thought. Ha. So there.
Jaycee let her hair down, and just like that she was gorgeous under the three-quarters moon. Natalie elbowed Zach in the stomach, and he wondered if he’d made a sound.
“I’ll let you tag along on one condition,” Jaycee said, her eyes on Natalie as she locked her messy light-brown hair back into its ponytail. “Truth or dare, Nat?”
Natalie broke out of Zach’s arms and got in Jaycee’s face. “Truth.”
“Wrong answer,” Jaycee said with all sorts of venom in her voice.
“It’s my answer,” she snapped. “That doesn’t make it wrong.”
Zach’s attention swung from girl to girl, sensing that they’d time-warped into a private childhood war. And he knew his girlfriend well; Natalie was close to exploding. How’d Jaycee manage it so swiftly? Should he be taking notes?
“Let me show you how it works, Jaycee,” Natalie continued. “Truth or dare?”
Jaycee laughed hollowly.
“See!” Natalie said. “You’re just as predictable as me. And you know what? I can follow you in there, so if you really want to celebrate this anniversary, you’re going to have to accept that Zach and I are coming.”
When Jaycee spoke again, her voice was Indiana Jones–styled. Resigned with a whip of anger. Zach couldn’t help but like it. “All right. I’ll let you come. But only because you need to live a little.”
“As long as you keep living,” Natalie said, still in Jaycee’s breathing space. Zach had the craziest flash of the two girls sinking into a mad, hot kiss. He shook his head free of the image—stupid, stupid last beer.
Jaycee stepped around Natalie, grabbed hold of the decorative bars on the first-floor window, and hauled them free.
“Whoa,” Zach said. “How’d you do that?”
“The administrative assistant in this office is a smoker. A lazy smoker.” Jaycee’s words seemed to wink at him. “This whole side of the building was renovated a decade ago. They turned it into offices, and whoever works here”—she handed the bars to Bishop—“likes to pop out for a smoke without having to walk around to the door. Jake found it years back.” She slid the window open, her dead brother’s name hanging in the air like she’d conjured his ghost.
Jaycee stooped through the narrow opening and onto some OU employee’s desk. Bishop squeezed through behind her. Then Natalie disappeared.
Zach wasn’t as smooth as the rest of them, damn it. He dragged himself in on his stomach, spectacularly clearing the desktop of all papers before he dropped over the edge.
“Balls!” he yelled as his shoulder connected with the floor.
“Shhh!” everyone said, peering down at him with all their church-worthy judgment.
“We need to be quiet. It’s possible someone’s here,” Jaycee said. “No more screeching.”
“I didn’t screech.” Zach stood up. Natalie put a hand on his chest. Could she tell that his heart was about to rev out of control? This was the last thing in the world he’d like to be doing on the night he’d graduated from motherfucking high school. He bit back his words as usual and forced a maniac’s smile. People liked it when he smiled.
They followed Jaycee down the dim hall, up the renovated stairs to a set of nursery-green double doors with a mighty lock. Jaycee pulled a key from her pocket.
“Why do you have a key?” Natalie asked.
“Stole it a few years back,” Jaycee said. “From the office we just came through.”
She unlocked the door and hauled it open.
A different world awaited.
At first, it was the smell. Old fabric. Peeling wallpaper. Dust. So, so, so much dust that the moonlight streaming through the windows was peppered by it. Zach coughed while his eyes adjusted to the unrenovated side of The Ridges. Yellow, frayed curtains hung raggedly, and the tile at their feet was chipped, piled up like gravel. The light fixture was easily from the fifties. And in the middle of the floor. Zach couldn’t tell if it
had fallen last year or twenty years ago.
“Jesus!” he said.
“They’ve cleaned it up a lot,” Jaycee replied pleasantly. Natalie didn’t say anything, which was such a first that it muddied Zach’s nerves.
“I had no idea that it was like this,” Bishop said.
“OU tries to clear these halls out, but it’s slow going. Lots of asbestos,” Jaycee added.
“What?” Zach covered his mouth. “Am I going to get cancer from being in here?”
“Your chances have already gone up,” Jaycee said, making her way down the hall.
Zach stared at Natalie. He suddenly realized that he didn’t love her enough for this.
“An hour or two of exposure to asbestos won’t hurt you,” Natalie said. “It’s probably not airborne.”
“Probably?”
Natalie took his hand from where it gripped the door, keeping it from closing and locking him in. “It’s like when you go geocaching and find things. Think about all the things you could find here.”
“That’s low. I know how stupid you think I am for going geocaching.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Not true. I don’t think you’re stupid. I think geocaching is a little stupid. There’s a difference.”
If there was, Zach couldn’t see it. He didn’t budge from the doorway.
“Okay, what do you want?” Natalie whispered. “We can go to Kolenski’s after this, and you can get sloppy drunk and I’ll take care of you. Or we can have sex. Not both.”
Zach looked away, more embarrassed than angry. Natalie knew him well enough to know the dumb things he wanted, but she couldn’t figure out any of the reasons he wanted them. And you know what? That made her dumb.
“Okay? Come on,” Natalie said like they’d agreed on something. She walked after Jaycee, who was already at the far end of the hall. “I don’t want to lose her,” she called back to him.
“Right.” Zach complimented himself for catching the more than literal meaning.
Bishop was hanging back, which surprised Zach after the boozed-up lipping he’d given him at the last party. “You’d think Marrakesh stole his balls!” Zach had yelled. That should have been a good, old-fashioned fistfight right there. Air out some grievances, you know? But nope. Bishop had ducked into his sketchbook, and Zach chalked it under the things he kept messing up.
You Were Here Page 2