I pause, taking long, deeps breaths so I don’t cry in front of him. “He claims he needs time to think, but I don’t understand why he had to go away to do it.”
“Ezra’s cagey, Ruby. You knew that from the beginning.”
“Angel thinks I should ride it out.”
Torrance looks both amused and surprised. “Angel said that? Well, that’s a new one on me.”
“You don’t think I should?”
“My nephew’s a romantic. He wants you to be happy. But you have to decide whether you’re willing to live with Ezra’s silence.”
“What if he just never calls me again?”
“Then I think you have your answer.” Torrance sits back, smashing his lips into a frown.
“What?” I ask anxiously.
He moves closer to me on the couch, leaning forward to speak. “I went to school with Ezra’s parents.”
“And?” I ask, curious.
“Ezra’s mom, Abigail Peña, was a looker, but she was reclusive. Folks used to say she was a little off her rocker, living up in the woods with her daddy, all alone.”
“And?” I ask, this time expectantly.
“Ezra’s dad moved to Pecos in tenth grade. George Lucero. Big jock. He found his niche pretty quickly. Then he met Abby. George was so gaga for her, folks started spreading rumors again about the Peñas being witches. Anyway, I’m just saying, my parents told me stories about the Peñas they went to school with. And their parents did too. The Peñas were, and always have been, a strange and secretive bunch.”
“You think the stories are true?”
“What, that Abby cast a spell on George? No,” he laughs. “I’m saying Ezra’s family has history, that the boy may not be all right in the head.”
“You’re telling me not to trust him.”
He looks me straight in the eyes. “I’m telling you to follow more than just your heart.”
“What happened with George and Abby?”
“They got married after high school and had Ezra a year after. They stuck around La Luna but rarely came into town.”
I scrub my face and search my knees, trying to make sense of Torrance’s story. Nodding like I understand, I thank Torrance and walk to my room in a daze. La Luna has always shunned Ezra’s family, and knowing it hurts almost as bad as his leaving. Why didn’t he tell me more about his family’s history himself?
Brushing my teeth, I ignore the mirror, even less thrilled by my reflection than ever. Lulled by the water hitting the porcelain sink, I let my mind wander. Ezra, what is it you aren’t telling me?
Suddenly, all the hairs on my body stand at attention.
Give it time, Ruby. You’ll understand soon enough.
I jump, dropping my toothbrush in the sink when I hear his voice as clear as a bell inside my head. His words ring in my ears as if he’s standing right beside me.
Terrified I may actually be going crazy, I grab my robe and quickly make my way downstairs, bounding toward the kitchen. Near the bottom step, I overhear Liddy and Torrance whispering in hushed voices. Something about the conversation sounds urgent, so I stop, listening from the other side of the wall.
“I’m really worried about her,” Liddy whispers.
“Ezra’s her first love,” Torrance answers softly. “She’ll get through it.”
“Ruby doesn’t give up, Torrey. And after losing Sera, I’m worried she won’t see the forest for the trees.”
“Ruby’s sharp. Eventually she’ll figure out that Ezra’s like every other schlep of a guy and move on.” Torrance’s firm tone drives his conviction home. “I think it’s as simple as that.”
“There’s more to him than meets the eye,” Liddy insists. “There’s no way she’d be with him if there wasn’t. She believes in him. She believes he can wrestle his demons. And I’m worried she’ll fall apart if she’s wrong.”
Listening to them makes me sick. Hearing Liddy worry out loud and Torrance reassuring her that I’m a lovestruck child is bad enough. But knowing that neither of them have faith in Ezra sets me off. I’m allowed to be mad at him. He’s my insufferable boyfriend. But they are not. They barely know enough about our relationship to speculate, much less prognosticate our future together.
“Do you trust him?” Liddy asks.
“About as much as I can throw him.”
“I think he really loves her.”
“Love doesn’t always inoculate you from heartbreak.” Torrance sighs.
The room is silent for a moment. Then Liddy purrs, “Why, Sheriff, are you worried I’m gonna break your heart?”
Torrance’s voice drops an octave. “I don’t know. Are you telling me you love me?”
I hear rustling, then giggling, and run upstairs before my head explodes. The last thing I want to know is that Liddy and Torrance are in love. Maybe I’ll care later. But right now, if the earth cracked open beneath the living room and swallowed them both up, I’d sing hallelujah.
Seething, I lie in bed, wound like a clock. When the sky turns rosy and birds start chirping outside my window, I give up all hope of sleeping. Pulling my easel away from the wall, I prep a new canvas. For a few hours, I layer it with coats of acrylic, standing by the bedroom window, splattering black and grey over everything. I spend most of Sunday turning the creek, forest, and gentle slope up the mountain into something sinister and hostile. Then I prop it on my dresser and lie in bed, staring at it all night.
Monday, I ignore everyone. At lunchtime, I sneak off to the far corner of the cafeteria and sit alone, picking at my grilled cheese sandwich—until Racine spots me and marches over to my table, sitting down uninvited.
“What are you doing over here?” She picks up my tray and makes it halfway across the room with my lunch before I catch up, following her dejectedly.
“That bad?” Ashley asks when I plunk down on the lunch bench next to her.
“No, probably not.”
Ashley scoots over and flings an arm around me. “He still hasn’t called?”
I shake my head.
“He totally dissed you,” Marta concludes. “Time won’t change that he’s a dog.”
“Marta,” Lisa growls. “Stuff it.”
“Fact is,” Marta continues. “Ruby’s entitled to mope. Ezra’s an asshole.”
“I don’t get it.” Ashely squints. “I mean, really. Why wouldn’t he call you?”
Marta smiles. “Because he’s blowing her off.”
Racine shakes her head at Marta. “Should I tell people you’re still together? Or that you broke up?”
“I don’t know,” I sniffle. “Don’t tell people anything, I guess.”
“That boy should thank his lucky stars he’s gone. Because if he were here, I’d maim him.” Racine stabs at the air and makes squeaky noises, which makes me laugh.
I’m grateful to have Las Gallinas on my side. But this last week has sucked big time, and my head isn’t in the game at all. As they continue to chatter, I can’t stop thinking about Ezra, and what Mom said, and the ruin.
And Leo.
My gut says Leo has something to do with Mom’s warning about the Watcher, and maybe even with what’s going on with Ezra. And if that’s true, I have to know. Ezra may have forbidden me from going up to the ruin, but Ezra isn’t here. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to know — if he even still cares about me at all.
Nineteen
Crash Course in Falling Apart
As soon as the bell rings, I sneak off campus before Racine can catch me and slip on the bus. At home, I throw my boots on and hike straight up the mountain. I walk fast, feeling anxious. El Maldito and the ghosts of Glorieta are the least of my worries; after what Mom said, I’m most terrified of Leo and the ruin.
In the clearing, I pick juniper berries and draw sketches of the ruin while I wait for my ears to buzz, taking small, measured breaths when my nerves act up. It’s eerily quiet for a long time, until Leo’s voice cuts through the silence.
“Ruby!” He wal
ks through the brush into the ruin’s center.
I yelp, holding my hand against my heart.
“What are you up to?”
Looking around the ruin proprietorially, I say, “Thinking. Searching for answers. Maybe sacrificing myself later.”
He doesn’t laugh. “It’ll be dark soon. You shouldn’t have come.”
I step back, further away from him. Leo’s right. I shouldn’t be here. Neither Liddy, Ezra, nor Mom would like it. Scowling, I close my eyes. What Ezra does or doesn’t like shouldn’t matter.
“What are you doing?” Leo asks.
I open my eyes and stare at him, furiously twirling a loose strand of hair around my already numb fingers. “Thinking. I do know how to do that.”
Leo gazes into my eyes like he’s latched on to my soul. Like he’s just waiting to yank it out of my body and stomp on it. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Me? What’s wrong with you?”
He squints. “You’re a mess, Ruby. What’s going on?”
“Like you care.”
“I do,” he says, “try me.”
I glare at him, partly to stop myself from crying. “I’m angry. And very confused about what to do with myself.”
Leo almost grins, but he stops himself. “What are you supposed to do with yourself?”
“You think it’s funny?”
“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I really do want to know.”
Pulling my shoulders forward, I stand up straighter, trying to present a tougher front. “Ezra disappeared. I mean, he took off without saying goodbye. I don’t even know if we’re still together.”
Leo steps up closer and grabs my hand. “I’m still here, Ruby.”
Angry as I am, giving in to Leo seems like a perfect way to hurt Ezra. But Leo scares me. And if I did it, if I intentionally tried to hurt Ezra, I’d be exactly the kind of person I hate.
“I don’t want you,” I whisper.
Leo stands his ground. He closes the space between us, looking down into my eyes. “No?”
His lips are warm when they meet mine, and for a moment, I pretend they’re Ezra’s. I kiss him, letting him pull me so close I can’t breathe. Letting him push until something shatters inside. Abruptly pulling back, I drop my head, afraid to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a good start,” he says.
“No. It was terrible. I can’t … I can’t do this.”
“You’re running away again?”
“Yes.”
Leo looks sad for maybe the first time ever. I’ve never seen him look anything but handsome, and confident, and smug. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Do you?” I grimace, feeling spiteful. “You still want to get into my pants that bad?”
“It’s not like that.”
“I’m going now. You can go back to doing whatever it was you were doing.”
“Wait.” He grabs my arm. “Meet me here on Sunday? Around two?”
“Why should I?”
Leo’s dark eyelashes flutter over his eyes, pulling purple threads through golden irises. He blinks, and I swear they change colors. “Because I asked you nicely.”
Nervous, I step back, breaking loose from his grip. “So you can what, charm me, or try to talk me into leaving Ezra, or just generally take advantage of my broken heart?”
“I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“You’ll have to come back to find out,” he insists.
“I don’t think so, Leo.”
“Please,” he says earnestly. “You won’t be sorry.”
I shake my head no, slowly. Every time I see him, I’m sorry. Sunday won’t be different.
“I’ll be here, Ruby — if you change your mind.”
Leo shoots me a perfect smile. Perfect like cardboard. Like he’s cut it out and pasted it on and is so used to relying on it when the situation demands, it’s automatic.
Before he has a chance to say more, I grab my things, turn, and head down the mountain, knowing he won’t follow. Closer to the bottom, most of the trees stand bare or dormant, forming a canopy over the trail. Unsightly without leaves, they stir something visceral inside me. How does anything manage to look so majestic and imperfect?
Pulling my jacket tighter against the cool air, I follow the canopy of tree branches home, thinking about Ezra. Ezra is like the forest, scarred but still magnificent, rooted to his surroundings. I see him everywhere, in the pines, and shrubs, and rocks, reminding me that of all the feelings I’ve carried up and down the path for nearly three months, my feelings for him have been the strongest. Ezra embodies the pass, enigmatic and guarded. He’ll never be my storybook prince. Things will never be uncomplicated.
At the end of the trail, I stop by the stream in our backyard. I drop my jacket and gloves on the ground and sit quietly on a rock, watching condensed plumes of my breath fill the air. I sit for what seems like forever, until I notice it. A mountain lion. Standing between the creek and my back door.
It rumbles low in its throat, twitching its tail as my mouth drops open.
Oh, god. Breathe, Ruby!
The lion growls, sending epic chills through my body. The sound, like thunder colliding with an atom bomb, stops my heart.
Shaky, I stand up and walk sideways, facing the lion while I inch toward the house, feeling for the Swiss Army knife in my pocket. I try to remember what I read on the internet, thinking, If it attacks, go for its eyes, and nose, and haunches.
Closer to the back porch, the lion leaps in front of me. It drops its head and looks up through menacing eyes. I yelp, frozen mid-step. Panicking, I wield my knife, holding it out as if it has some kind of superpower.
The lion sits back on its haunches, staring at my knife suspiciously. Curiously, it stops growling and lies down. Its eyes sweep the yard lazily. When I take another step, steadying my balance, it moves its head toward the door, almost as if assuring safe passage.
I bolt, grateful I forgot to lock the house up. Inside, I run to the kitchen window and search the yard. The lion sits near the brook, next to my jacket, looking less than interested in doing anything but enjoying the scenery. I watch while it scans the sky, occasionally swatting at something. When it finally lopes away, I drop into a ball on the ground, surprising myself by sobbing. Riding a wave of tears and adrenaline, I have the strongest urge to call Ezra. I know he won’t answer, but it doesn’t matter; I just want to hear his voice. I need to tell someone who isn’t Liddy what just happened.
When Ezra’s voice mail picks up, I clear my throat and speak. I tell him I miss him, then blubber about running into Leo and the mountain lion. Part of me hopes he’ll be mad enough at me for going up to the ruin again to come back from Las Cruces. Most of me knows it’ll take more than a run-in with wildlife to bring him running.
Over the next week, I tell myself I’m over him. I morph from mad, suspicious Ruby into Ruby the Impenetrable. It feels like Ezra has been gone forever, and I don’t want to care. Mostly I refuse to let myself feel anything.
“How’s it going?” Torrance asks me Saturday morning, dropping his newspaper when I sit down at the kitchen table.
“Why don’t you guys ever stay over at your house?” Torrance is my second favorite adult, but he’s always around. Sometimes it feels like I checked into a hostel.
“Liddy doesn’t want to leave you alone overnight,” he smiles. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“She still asleep?”
“Yep. She’s taking advantage of my day off. She wants to laze around the house in her pajamas.” Imitating Liddy’s voice, he smiles and says, “Because isn’t that what Saturdays were made for?”
“Amen.” I nod.
Torrance turns back to his paper. After what I’m sure he thinks is a proper amount of time, he closes it, smoothing the newsprint out against the wood table. Facing me, he holds his coffee mug in the air, gesturing while he speaks. “Any news?”
“You mean have I heard from Ez?
No.”
“Well, just in case, I put a call down to the station in Las Cruces. I’m sure he’s fine. But it’s one less thing for you to worry about.”
“Really? Torrance, you’re the best,” I gush. “I mean, I know you don’t like him.”
“Thank Angel, it was his idea. Much as I’d like to take credit for it. And I don’t dislike Ezra. I have reservations.”
“Did they tell you anything?”
“Nope. But the station will keep an eye out for us. A friend of mine on the force down there said he’d be willing to go down to the church and check it out if I tell him which one.”
I drop my muffin and pop up from the table, throwing myself at Torrance. Hugging him, I whisper, “You really are the greatest. Liddy’s lucky.”
He squeezes me and lets go, keeping his hands on my shoulders. “She is lucky, Ruby, because she has you. She may not tell you, but you’re her guiding light. Though I guess I’m not chopped liver either.”
“Rib eye maybe?” I tease.
Torrance grabs the paper and rolls it up, threatening to swat me. I take a potshot, swinging playfully for his shoulder, but miss completely. “Remind me to teach you how to throw a punch.” He chuckles. “I’m going upstairs. Think I can trust you down here alone?”
When I nod, he smiles. “You’re a good kid. Now go be a good kid on your own.”
“Hey,” I stop him. “Think it’s okay if I take Liddy’s car? I’m supposed to meet Angel for coffee.”
“I don’t see why not?” He shrugs.
He nods, fills another mug for Liddy, and heads for the stairs. After he’s gone, I sit in the alcove trying to decide if sending someone to check on Ezra makes me a stalker.
A beam of sunlight shines through the window, slicing the alcove in half. Like the small sunny space, I feel divided. I’m not really sure what to do with myself and after spending too many minutes waffling, finally run upstairs, throw on clothes, grab my sketchbook, and drive to Margarita’s.
By the time I get there, Saturday’s lunch crowd is just starting to trickle in. My favorite booth in the back against the window is still open, so I grab an abandoned newspaper and sit down, waving at Daisy across the counter. Flipping slowly through the paper, I settle on the entertainment section just as Angel walks in.
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