by Bella Raven
I throw my bags down and fall into bed. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and try to focus on everything that’s great in my life… At least I have a bed. I have a roof over my head. And I’ve got my little brother, stinky sneakers and all.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
Noah peers over the edge of the bunk and nods.
“I’ll see what I can drum up.”
In the kitchen, I yank open the fridge, and I can’t say I’m surprised at what I see. The entire contents of the refrigerator comes down to this: seven beers, a half-empty bottle of ketchup, a restaurant style packet of yellow mustard, and three slices of moldy white bread.
“I was going to go by the store today, but I got a little sidetracked,” says Jake, stumbling out from his bedroom.
“I’ll run to the store tomorrow, I guess,” I say.
“Toss me another beer, would you?”
“Don’t you think you ought to slow down a little?”
“Hey, beer’s got an expiration date too.”
“Somehow I don’t think you have to worry about that,” I say, tossing a cold can across the room. “What did you mean when you said critters? Like, raccoons?”
Jake chuckles, “I don’t think it was raccoons that done this.”
“Done what?”
“Well, I don’t know if I should go into detail before bedtime,” Jake says.
“You can tell me.”
“Mrs. Williams—they found her body not two miles from here, mauled by some type of animal. Probably a bear. Maybe a mountain lion. At least that’s what the sheriff thinks.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“You and Noah should stick close to the house. Don’t go wandering off too far into the woods, especially at night.”
Jake disappears into his room. I stand in the kitchen for a moment, dumbfounded. Thanks to uncle Jake, “mauled by animal” is now something that I am doomed to add to my list of things to worry about. As if that list needs to be any longer.
CHAPTER 3
I AM SOMEWHERE in between the frozen pizza and the ice cream when reality kicks in. I can’t hold it back any longer. Tears stream down my cheek and my chest heaves with uncontrollable sobs. What a perfect place to have a meltdown—in the middle of the frozen food aisle. I lean back against the cold glass casing, sliding down to the floor. Covering my face with my hands, I try to stem the relentless tide of tears, wiping them away as fast as I can, but I’m no match. These tears have been brewing for months.
“Madison…?” A vaguely familiar voice calls out.
I brush away my tears and peer through strands of hair up at the voice with my puffy, red eyes.
“Maddie, is that you?”
The voice belongs to a cute, perky young girl with wavy black hair. She’s gorgeous, with long, tanned legs, prominently displayed by a dangerously short skirt. Her outfit is meticulously coordinated—earrings, bracelet, handbag. Her style is impeccable.
“Jennifer?” I ask.
“Madison James, it is you,” she says, kneeling down to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I was looking for chocolate chip mint. They didn’t have it, drama ensued,” I sniffle.
Jennifer chuckles, “Glad to see you’re still a smart-ass,” she says, helping me to my feet.
I try to pull myself together.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your parents,” she says.
“How do you know about that?”
“It’s a small town, news travels fast.”
“Right…” I say, nodding.
I had forgotten what small-town life was like. How all of your innermost secrets became the subject of public discourse among the town. I hadn’t even contemplated the fact that I would lose every ounce of privacy by moving here.
Every summer growing up, Jennifer and I were thick as thieves for the two weeks that I came to visit with my parents. Temporary best friends. We’d keep in touch, writing each other letters for a few weeks after each visit. Then our friendship would slowly fade until my next visit, where we would always pick up just where we left off.
“What are you doing tonight?” she says.
“I don’t know, I was just going to chill out and read a book.”
“Nonsense. You’re coming out with me. There’s a bonfire out at Miller’s field.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for people.”
“There’s gonna be cute guys,” she teases.
“I’m definitely not ready for that.”
“Or girls, if that’s what you’re into?”
“No, I’m… the last thing I need is a boyfriend.”
“It’s settled, I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy,” she bubbles.
Before I can mumble out an objection, Jennifer disappears down the aisle. Jennifer always seems to get exactly what she wants. She always did when we were younger. Resistance is futile.
At home, I cook dinner for Jake and Noah, and it seems like the first real meal Jake has had in a long time. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s been living on take-out and beer since the last time we came to visit.
Like clockwork, there is a knock at the door at exactly 7 PM. I excuse myself from the table and grab the door.
“I said sexy,” Jennifer says, eying me up and down with disapproval. “This… not sexy.” Apparently my jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and down jacket aren’t a good match for Jennifer’s miniskirt and high heels.
“It’s cold outside,” I say.
“Beauty is pain.”
I sigh, “Come in, I’ll get changed.”
Jennifer steps into the trailer with a look on her face like she’s walking into a toxic waste dump. “Jake, you remember Jennifer, don’t you?”
“I killed a lot of brain cells since then, but… you look kind of familiar,” Jake says.
“I bet you don’t remember me either, do you, Noah?” Jennifer asks.
Noah shakes his head and keeps eating.
Jennifer follows me back into the bedroom and her nose twists up into a bunch as she enters the room. “What’s that smell?”
“Don’t ask,” I say.
I rummage through what little clothes I have, looking for Jennifer’s approval. After several definite no’s, we finally settle on a little black halter top dress. I peel off my jeans and T-shirt and wiggle into the little, black glove of a dress. It's so tight it leaves nothing to the imagination—I feel so out of my element. I’m a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl, and I’ve already got goosebumps from the chill in the air.
“Not bad. We’ll consider you a work in progress,” Jennifer says. “Now, let’s do something about that makeup.”
“What’s wrong with my makeup?”
“You’re not wearing any.”
“We’re going to a bonfire, not fashion week,” I say.
“Honey, you only get one chance to make a first impression. You need to make a super fabulous one. You don’t want anyone to mistake you for a boy, do you?”
Wow, leave it to Jennifer to say exactly what’s on her mind. I look in the mirror at my pale skin, the circles under my green eyes from all the stress, my tangled strands of auburn hair… maybe I could use a makeover.
“Okay, do your thing,” I say.
Jennifer pulls out a palette of colors from her purse. A full range of shadows, concealer, liner, lipstick, mascara, and translucent setting powder. It takes about a half hour for Jennifer to work her magic. She absolutely refuses to let me look in the mirror during the process. I’m mortified that I’m going to look like some kind of circus clown when she’s done. When she finally lets me look, I’m stunned. My jaw drops and I don’t know what to say. I almost want to cry.
“You just went from not, to hot,” she says.
“Oh, my God, this is beautiful… And I’m not beautiful.”
“Yes you are.”
“You are pure magic—an artist,” I say, still transfixed by the metamorphosis. It’s perfect. Not too much, not too little—just glo
wing.
Jennifer leans back with pride. “I like to think of myself like Michelangelo, releasing the beauty that always existed within.”
I glance once more at the mirror, almost in disbelief. “I think I’m ready for bonfire,” I say, confidently.
As I step outside of the trailer into the brisk mountain air, it hits me—dad would never have let me leave the house looking like this. Wearing a dress this short. Jake didn’t seem to care. He didn’t ask where we were going, or give me a curfew. It feels a little strange. Not that I want a curfew, or restrictions, but it is just another subtle reminder that I really am on my own now.
I’ve made quite a few mistakes in my life, but perhaps none quite as dangerous as letting Jennifer drive. With her foot mashed to the floor, we fly down the two-lane highway. Weaving through the mist and evergreens like a bullet train on rails. I can barely see past the hood of her yellow sports-car, yet Jennifer’s senses the turns almost telepathically. I grip the door handle holding on for dear life, jamming my foot into the floor as though I have a brake pedal on my side. Trees blur into one another and the engine roars as we snake through the mountainside. My pulse doubles on the curves that bring us precariously close to the sheer cliff face of the mountain. Swing a little wide on one of these turns and you’re through the guard rail plunging hundreds of feet into the ravine below.
“Are we in a hurry?”
“No,” she says, racing even faster.
CHAPTER 4
THE TEMPERATURE IS near freezing, yet a jacket really isn’t necessary. Flames soar thirty feet into the air from the mountainous bonfire, bathing the clearing in warmth. Ten foot tall PA speakers are nestled into the beds of pickup trucks, one at either end of the clearing. A third truck bed holds the DJ, pumping out music as hundreds of teenagers party underneath the stars in this remote forest.
I’m awestruck by the spectacle of it, and a little shy. All these new faces. I hesitate at the tree-line at the edge of the clearing.
“Come on. No one is going to bite you,” Jennifer says, grabbing my hand, pulling me into the fray.
Jen introduces me to a few of her friends, Sophia and Gwen. They are both gorgeous—Sophia with straight, long black hair and emerald eyes. Gwen, shorter, with big brown eyes and a blonde pixie cut. They tell me what a huge deal bonfire is, and that it’s a monthly tradition. People come from all over, but this month only draws about half as many revelers as usual.
“Why?” I ask.
“Do you need to have a reason to party?” Jen says.
“No, I mean, why the low turn out… if you can call this low?”
Jen and the girls share an awkward glance.
“What is it?” I say, trying to pry it out of them. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the attack on Mrs. Wilson, does it?”
“You know, this is the last blowout before school starts. Let’s enjoy it,” Jen says.
I drop it, and the conversation progresses to more mundane topics. I quickly lose interest and drift off in thought, taking in the sea of new faces around me. I love to people watch. You can learn so much from someone’s body posture. I watch a couple that is clearly breaking up. A few feet away, a girl is desperately flirting with a boy who has no interest. Next to them is the inseparable couple, who can’t seem to let go of each other. My eyes follow a gangly drunk boy who almost stumbles into the fire. My eyes surf the crowd, flitting my gaze from face to face. It’s here, in the middle of nowhere, that I first see him.
Across the far end of the clearing, flickering in the warm orange glow of the fire, stands the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Dark hair and blue eyes, with perfect, chiseled features. A shiver runs through my body, my stomach flutters, and I have to remind myself to breathe. He’s tall and muscular, but not overly so. Devastatingly, supernaturally, handsome.
Devastating because he is standing next to a stunning blonde, with long, wavy hair, and a voluptuous body worthy of a pinup queen. I don’t stand a chance. Next to that, I’m invisible. Still, I can’t pry my eyes away.
“It’s not polite to stare,” Jen says.
“I’m not staring. Who’s staring?” I say.
Jennifer and the girls just giggle.
“So, who is that?” I ask.
“It’s the guy that you, and every other girl in this county, has dirty thoughts about,” says Jen.
“I don’t… I’m not… I’m just asking.”
More giggles.
“Don’t worry. We’ve all been there. The sooner you get over it the better,” says Sophia.
“Trust me, there’s nothing to get over,” I say.
“Wow, you’re blushing,” Jen says.
I can feel my cheeks burning. I try to keep from looking in his direction, but within seconds my eyes are clinging to him again.
“Do we need to do an intervention?” says Gwen.
“I take it the blonde is his girlfriend?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
A collective, “Ew!”
“No, that’s Ethan’s sister, Olivia. But don’t get your hopes up, it will just lead to heart ache. Ethan Storm doesn’t date mere mortals like us,” Jen sighs, now transfixed by the sight of Ethan as well.
My eyes wander back to Ethan, soaking in his perfect form—his strong legs, slender torso, and broad shoulders. When my gaze falls upon his face, I’m mortified to see his eyes are locked with mine, glimmering in the flickering flame. My eyes dart away. But his look is burned in my mind, like the afterimage from a bright light. His eyes seemed angry—contemptuous of my stare.
My heart is pounding so loud now, I’m sure the others can hear it. Even over the music. When I look back up, he’s gone. My beautiful boy has disappeared. I scan the crowd, but I can’t find him anywhere.
“Come on. Lets have some fun,” Jen says, pulling me deeper into the crowd.
“So, he’s single, right?” I ask.
Jen just rolls her eyes.
We spend the rest of the evening dancing, and I meet so many new people, most of whom are pretty friendly. For an instant, I forget all about life and I realize I’m actually having fun.
Between the dense crowd, the fire, and dancing all evening, I’ve started to sweat. I wiggle my way through the pack of teenagers out to the edge of the clearing to cool off a bit. I tilt my head down, pulling my hair up in a bun to get it off my neck. When I look up, I see him again—those intense blue eyes sparkling at me. I bite my lip and look away, sure that I’m blushing. What is my problem? I have got to get over this whole shyness routine. I gaze back up looking for his eyes, but he’s gone again.
Grrr!
That’s it. Enough is enough. I’m going to hunt him down and introduced myself. If he rejects me, at least it will be on my terms. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. I’m here, in this godforsaken part of the world, standing in this dreary field for a reason. I have to believe that we all have a destiny. That all these changes in my life are part of some grand transformation. Unpleasant and painful at times, but a journey that I was meant to take.
I plow back into the maze of teenagers, weaving my way through the horde, searching for my destiny. I envision how perfect the moment will be when we meet. This will be the moment that people ask me about for the rest of my life. This will be the moment that I tell my children about when they ask, “So how did you and dad meet?” This will be the reason my grandchildren will exist. I replay this fantasy over and over in my head as I splice through the crowd. I try desperately to think of the words I will say. These are the words that will be immortalized in this fairy tale romance that I’ll recount until my dying days. I am sure of this.
Suddenly, the wind is knocked out of me and I gasp for air. In all of my daydreaming, I’ve smacked straight into someone—spilling their drink all over both of us.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” a voice shouts.
“I’m so sorry…”
I look up to see blue eyes glari
ng at me… His blue eyes.
I’m terrified.
“Run along, little thing,” Olivia snips, pulling Ethan away. His eyes burning into me, thoroughly revolted.
I watch them disappear into the mass of people. I can’t believe I’m such a klutz. For the rest of my life, when people ask me why I never married, this will be the story I tell them. I’m so embarrassed. I just want to crawl under a rock and die.
“Madison?” a voice asks.
I look up to see a cute, pale skinned, blonde boy with clover green eyes and a disarming smile.
“How do you know my name?” I ask, cautiously.
“Jen said I should come introduce myself. I’m Lucas,” he says, extending his hand.
I peer over his shoulder to see Jen and the girls watching from a distance. Jen giggles and waves. I could just kill her for this.
“It’s… uh, nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his warm, firm hand.
“I see you met Ethan.”
I cringe. “You saw that, huh?”
“He’s a dick. Don’t take it personally.”
“No, why would I take that personally? I like making a complete fool out of myself.”
“Well, everyone’s got to be good at something,” Lucas says.
“I guess it’s my special gift.”
“If it makes you feel better, you can spill a drink on me anytime.” He smiles comfortingly, and tries his best to keep the conversation going. We chat for about fifteen minutes, during which time I can’t help but think about my graceful encounter with Ethan. So, yes, he’s a jerk, but a handsome one. I feel bad because most of what Lucas says goes in one ear and out the other. Then I realize he’s staring at me, waiting for me to respond—only I have no idea what the question was.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“School. Will you be going to school here this fall?”