Shadowlands

by Kate Brian

  “We’re having a bonfire on the beach,” Lauren explained, fiddling with her woven bracelet. “We always invite all the vacationers,” she added, as if wanting to make sure I didn’t think I was special somehow.

  “It starts around nine and we’ll be out there till whenever,” Olive said. “Just look out your window. You’ll see us.”

  “Um…okay. Maybe,” I said, even though I had no intention of going. Of course, it was totally Darcy’s kind of thing, but if I told her, she would want to go, my father would say no, she would sneak out, and World War III would erupt inside our temporary home.

  “Cool. See you later, then. Maybe,” Olive said with a wry smile. Then the two of them rode off.

  As soon as they were gone, the front door opened and my dad stormed out wearing Adidas shorts and an ancient Harvard T-shirt. He bounced on the balls of his feet a few times, his stomach moving up and down like a heavy ball.

  “I’m going for a run,” he said tensely. “You want to come?”

  I blinked. My dad hadn’t invited me on a run since before my mom died. He hadn’t invited me to do anything since before my mom died. The very thought of going with him made my shoulders curl, like he expected me to forget five years of his ignoring my existence.

  “Um…I still need to eat breakfast,” I said awkwardly.

  “Okay. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Then he opened the gate and jogged away. I was still standing there, gaping after him, when from the corner of my eye, I saw another flutter in one of the windows of the gray house. Heart in my throat, I turned and sprinted inside, locking both locks behind me. Then I moved over to the parlor window and hid behind the heavy, flowered curtain, angling myself so that I could just see outside.

  All of a sudden the front door of the gray house opened with a creak. A guy with blond hair, a killer tan, and piercing blue eyes jogged down the steps, glanced over at our house almost furtively, and then speed-walked up the block with his head down. I recognized him instantly. It was the guy from outside the general store. The one who had looked at me like he knew me.

  My breath caught in my throat. Blond hair. Piercing eyes. Had he been the one watching me from the window? And if he lived there, wouldn’t Lauren have said so? They’d been hanging out yesterday. It seemed as if they were friends.

  I watched until he made it to the end of the street and disappeared around the corner that led to the town. Then I double-checked the locks, retreated to my room, and locked that door behind me as well. If there was one thing Steven Nell had taught me, it was to trust no one—especially people who seemed to have a thing for watching me.

  I was just finishing a chapter in a biography of Marie Curie when I heard the door at the bottom of the stairs creak open. My heart all but stopped, and my eyes darted to the plain gray-and-white clock hanging on the opposite wall. It was past midnight.

  “Hello?” I said, my voice breaking as I sat up straight.

  Rapid footsteps sounded up the stairs, and I curled against the headboard, clutching my iPad to my chest. I was just wondering how badly I would damage it if I had to use it as a weapon when Darcy appeared. She was fully dressed in skinny jeans and a sparkly tank top, and was wearing complete makeup.

  “You scared the crap out of me!” I said.

  “Check it out!” she said, ignoring me as she gestured at the north-facing window. “Bonfire on the beach!”

  Damn. I should’ve known she could smell a party in the air. I sighed, put my iPad/potential ninja star down, and padded to the window. Sure enough, there was a raging bonfire maybe three houses up the beach, with at least twenty kids milling around it. From this distance, all I could make out was their shadows. It looked vaguely like the cover of that Lord of the Flies novel I’d been forced to read in English class last year. Fiction had never really been my thing.

  “I bet that guy from the general store is there,” Darcy whispered excitedly, raising her eyebrows. She turned and started rummaging through the armoire across from the foot of the bed, sliding the hangers aside one by one.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked warily.

  “Finding you something to wear,” she replied in her favorite condescending voice. “Go do something with your hair. It looks like birds are nesting in there.”

  “Darcy, I don’t want to go to a party,” I protested, running my hands over my braid nonetheless.

  “Well, I do, and I don’t want to show up by myself.” Her hands flopped to her sides and she groaned. “Don’t you own anything that’s not a zip sweatshirt?”

  “Oh, well. I have nothing to wear, so I guess we’d better stay home,” I tried, dreading the idea of standing around, trying to make small talk with strangers.

  Darcy looked me up and down, taking in my white tank top and gray, wide-leg sweats with the side stripe. “You can borrow something of mine,” she said, reaching for my hand and pulling me toward the stairs.

  “Dad will kill us if we sneak out,” I said, grasping at straws.

  “So? What else is new?”

  “Darcy—”

  “Oh, come on, Rory!” she whined, tipping her head back as she now took both my hands in hers. “Please? Please, please, please? I’m dying of boredom here. We’ve been locked up in this house for two whole days after being locked up in our house for a week. Please come with me? I’m begging you here. Please? You owe me.”

  I looked into my sister’s eyes and felt a thump of foreboding mixed with overwhelming guilt.

  “Why do I owe you?” I asked slowly. She didn’t know, right? How could she possibly know?

  She glanced away and lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. For defending you to Dad the other day? For defending you to Dad every day? For leaving behind all my friends and ditching Becky’s party and missing my graduation to come here?”

  “Like that was my fault,” I pointed out. But still. I could breathe a small sigh of relief, because at least she hadn’t been talking about Christopher. At least she hadn’t somehow found out. But the damage was done, and the guilt was now pressing down on my chest.

  Besides, Darcy was right. She had given up a lot to come here. When Steven Nell had attacked me, she’d been looking forward not only to her graduation and Becky’s bash, but also to about a half dozen other parties and a trip down the shore. Not to mention another summer working at her friend Liam’s family restaurant. This year she would be old enough to bartend and bring home “mad tips.” I’d never liked or understood her friends, but she lived for them, and all of that had been taken from her.

  “All right, fine. We’ll go,” I said, shoving my feet into the sneakers I had kicked off next to my bed earlier. “But I’m wearing my own clothes.”

  “Yay!” Darcy actually hugged me for half a second, and a smile flickered on my lips. I moved to the wardrobe, yanked out my favorite navy-blue Adidas zip sweatshirt and zipped it on over my tank. Then I followed my sister down the stairs and out the back door.

  The air outside was cool, and even from down the beach, I could smell the ash on the breeze. Long, thin lines combed into the sand beneath our feet, as if it had recently been evened out and spruced up by a maintenance crew. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and matched Darcy’s casual pace as we approached the bonfire. My pulse raced with nerves when the first revelers on the outskirts of the crowd started to notice us. I felt conspicuous, like I didn’t belong here. But Darcy was in her element. She paused a few feet from the fire and pushed one hand into the back pocket of her jeans, shaking her hair away from her face.

  “There he is,” she said through her teeth, sliding her eyes to the right.

  Darcy’s dark-haired hottie stood with Lauren and Olive near a blue cooler. They were with the two boys and the pretty blond girl from the general store, along with two more surfer-type guys and the redhead who had stared at us from the sidewalk. All of them were beautiful and completely at ease, their hair wind-tossed, their smiles carefree, their clothes loose and beachy and casual.
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  “The key is to let the guy come to you,” Darcy informed me, leaning slightly toward my ear. “Never, ever go to—”

  “Hi, there.”

  We both jumped. Darcy’s crush stood just to her right, holding a red cup and wearing a perfect, smooth grin. He had one dimple in his left cheek. His brown hair fell over his right eye, and the sleeves of his red T-shirt clung to his biceps. His jeans were frayed at the bottom, and he was barefoot, as was the rest of his group. Even Darcy had gone shoeless. Suddenly, I felt out of place in my laced-up running sneakers.

  Then the blond guy from across the street fixed his eyes on mine. A split second later, he looked away and sipped his drink. I licked my dry lips and clutched my hands together behind my back. My pulse began to race as I wondered if he would talk to me—what I would say to him if he did.

  “Hi. I’m Darcy Thayer,” my sister was saying. She tilted her head with a smile. Her long brown hair tumbled over her bare shoulder.

  “Joaquin Marquez,” the guy said. He gestured at the blond guy, and I noticed that Joaquin was wearing the same woven leather bracelet Lauren had on. “This is Tristan Parrish.”

  Tristan simply nodded. My eyes darted to his arms. Sure enough, a leather bracelet was tied around his wrist.

  “And that’s his sister, Krista,” Joaquin said, lifting his cup toward the blond girl, who wore a gauzy white dress; a long, delicate gold necklace; and the bracelet, although hers looked newer than the others.

  “Hello,” she said, her eyes trailing over me from head to toe as if she were a fashion designer scrutinizing her work. There was a sophisticated confidence about her, which wasn’t all that surprising considering how beautiful she was. She had the same sharp cheekbones as her brother and the same stunning blue eyes. “I love your hair,” she mused, touching the end of my braid.

  “Um, thanks.” I squirmed under her touch.

  “How about we get through introductions first before you grope her, Krista?” Joaquin suggested lightly.

  “Sorry,” Krista apologized, dropping my hair.

  “Don’t mind her. She’s cute but socially awkward,” Joaquin said under his breath, leaning slightly toward us.

  “Shut up!” Krista said, shoving his arm but smiling in a self-deprecating way as everyone else laughed. So he was that guy. Didn’t matter if what he said was rude or obnoxious, everyone just let him say it. Darcy had one of those in her crowd—her friend Liam—and I couldn’t stand him.

  “Those guys back there are Bea, Fisher, and Kevin,” Krista told me, slipping one arm around mine and gesturing at the redhead and her two guys. They silently lifted their drinks in greeting. Fisher was tall and linebacker-broad with dark skin and hair shaved so close to his head it was almost nonexistent. Kevin was lanky and pale, with black hair and an intricate fire tattoo cut across his right forearm. “And you know Lauren and Olive.”

  Darcy shot me a confused glance.

  I cleared my throat, extricating my arm from Krista’s. “Um, I met Lauren and Olive earlier,” I explained to Darcy. “They were riding their bikes past the house.”

  Lauren was in the same T-shirt and shorts she’d had on that morning, but Olive had changed into a long-sleeved black sweater over baggy cargo pants. Her dark curls bounced crazily in the ocean breeze. She was the only one without a leather band on her arm, unless it was hidden under her sleeve.

  “Hi, Rory,” Olive said.

  “Hey,” I said. “This is my sister, Darcy.”

  The girls smiled politely at Darcy but said nothing. Darcy cleared her throat and shifted her weight.

  “So, Rory, how do you like Juniper Landing so far?” Joaquin asked me, stepping past Darcy and over to my side.

  While the rest of the group watched me, I glanced sideways at Darcy, whose smile faltered. She wasn’t used to being ignored, especially not in favor of me. My face grew warm, and suddenly my heart seemed to be pulsating directly against my skin.

  “Um, it’s…nice,” I said.

  “Have you been into town yet?” Krista asked, toying with her necklace.

  “The ice cream at the general store is to die for,” Olive put in.

  “And you have to check out the library,” Krista added. “They have an amazing science section.”

  My heart thumped. How would Krista know I was into science?

  “Because you were wearing that E=mc2 sweatshirt this morning,” Krista explained, clearly reading my startled look. “At least that’s what Lauren told me.”

  “Oh,” I said warily, shooting a look at Lauren, who stared straight back at me, as if it wasn’t weird that she’d reported back on my outfit. “Right.”

  “She was? God,” Darcy said in an apologetic way, touching my arm. “Forgive my sister. She’s still learning how to dress herself.”

  I cocked an annoyed eyebrow at my sister.

  “I think she looks fine,” Tristan put in, speaking for the first time. The gravelly timbre of his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

  “To each her own,” Darcy sang, tossing her hair back. But I could see the red forming on her cheeks from being contradicted. The beautiful people were supposed to be her people, not mine.

  “So, Rory, let’s find someplace to sit,” Joaquin said, reaching his arm around me and giving my shoulder a familiar squeeze. “I like to get to know all our new visitors.”

  I’ll bet, I thought, wondering how many girls that line had worked on in the past.

  Tristan looked me dead in the eye at this, his expression pained.

  “Actually, I’m kind of thirsty,” I said, dodging Joaquin’s touch.

  “Fisher’ll get you something,” Joaquin said, tilting his head toward the others. “Right, Fish?”

  Instantly, Fisher was by Joaquin’s side, as if ready to do his bidding. I glanced at Darcy, freaked, but she simply glared back at me.

  “Um, thanks, but I can get it myself,” I said, angling so I could slide past them.

  “You sure?” Joaquin asked.

  “Yep! Very sure. I’ll be back,” I told Darcy.

  But by the way she was looking at me, it was pretty clear she wouldn’t have minded if she never saw me again.

  I made my way to the other side of the bonfire, snagged a bottle of water from the cooler, and tried to look perfectly content sipping from it while I watched the surf. Surreptitiously, I kept an eye on Darcy and the others. She was getting her flirt on with Joaquin now, but every so often he’d look over in my direction. Olive and Tristan were chatting alone, their heads bent close together, while Fisher, Kevin, and Bea had found a pair of coolers to sit on, facing the fire. Lauren and Krista stood alongside them, whispering and glancing in my direction.

  Just breathe. Just breathe and recite.

  Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine…

  A round of girlish laughter caught my attention. A few feet away, closer to the edge of the water, a guy about my age was talking to two younger girls. He had brown hair and brown eyes, a nice face, and was the only other person wearing sneakers. He was listening to what the girls were saying, but every once in a while, when they weren’t looking, he would glance around, like he was bored.

  As he surveyed the party, his eye caught mine. A moment later, he excused himself from his conversation and walked over to me.

  “Care to save me from the most ridiculous conversation ever?” he asked in a lilting British accent. Clearly, he wasn’t from the island, which meant he was not part of the Juniper Landing Super-Popular Crowd. I glanced at his wrist, testing a theory. No leather bracelet. It seemed like it was some kind of local trend, or maybe a cliquey-club-type thing. Maybe there was some secret society of locals, letting everyone else know how excluded they were by wearing the same piece of jewelry. Very mature.

  “What was the conversation?” I asked.

  He blew out his lips. “Would you believe they were going on and on about the royal couple, asking me if I knew them? Like all British people k
now one another.”

  “You don’t?” I joked.

  He laughed, and the warm sound of it put me at ease.

  “I’m Rory.”

  “Aaron,” he said with a slight nod. He moved next to me, surveying the party. On the far side of the fire, two guys were mock-wrestling while a group of girls squealed. Over to my right, a “chug” chant started up as a shirtless dude attempted to do a keg stand. Something I wouldn’t have even recognized if not for a recent exposé about frat hazing on the nightly news. Joaquin and Darcy were among the chanters.

  Aaron clucked his tongue. “Don’t you hate these things?”

  “So, so much,” I replied. Then I tossed him a teasing grin. “Do your friends Lady Kate and Prince Will do keg stands?”

  Aaron let out an exaggerated groan. “At my last party, I had to call the royal guard to come take them away,” he said, his brown eyes dancing. “But I did see you talking to the beautiful people. What’s the deal with the tall, dark drink of water?” he asked, looking Joaquin up and down appreciatively.

  I shook my head. “No idea. Not my type.”

  “But so mine,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “They don’t make ’em like that across the pond. Unfortunately, he seems to play for your team, not mine,” he said, flicking a look at my sister, who gripped Joaquin’s arm as she laughed.

  “If it makes you feel any better, he kind of seems like a jerk,” I said.

  He smirked. “Thanks for that.”

  I smiled. “So what part of England are you from?”

  “I’m a Birmingham boy, but I’m going to Oxford in the fall.”

  “Oxford, wow. So you’re ridiculously smart,” I said.

  He shrugged, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m ninth generation so they had to let me in. I’ve decided to study archaeology, much to the chagrin of my literary-minded parents.”

  “Archaeology doesn’t sound too shabby to me,” I said.

  “What about you? What do you want to study?” He sipped his drink, turned slightly to face me, and planted his feet, as if deciding this was where he wanted to stay, at least for the time being.