Black Ice

by Becca Fitzpatrick

  I wanted to run and fling myself into his arms now, but I held my ground.

  "You came back," I said.

  He stepped closer. "It took me four days to get off the mountain. I didn't let myself stop walking, afraid I'd freeze if I rested. I used your coat as a bandage, so thanks for that. At the bottom of the mountain, I found a store with an ATM outside, and got enough cash to hide in a hotel until I was rested. After that, the plan was to get on a plane to California. I was ready to close this chapter of my life and go back to being Jude Van Sant. I didn't think there was anything stopping me." His eyes pierced mine. "But I kept waking up at night, haunted by a familiar face."

  "Jude," I said, choking up.

  He came forward and clasped my hands. "You kept my secret. I can't thank you enough."

  "I know why you did what you did."

  "Lauren deserved justice. So did Kimani and Macie, but not everyone would have agreed with how I went about getting it. Shaun took you and Korbie hostage, shot and wounded a police officer, and killed a game warden--and I was with him when he did it. It would have come out during the trial that I was living a lie, and I was smart enough to get away with it. A normal person has every reason to be scared of someone like me. They'd lock me away."

  He was right. I knew he was. I also knew he'd taken a huge risk in coming here. I didn't let myself hope what it meant for me--for us--that he'd risked discovery and capture to see me.

  "What now?" I asked. "What about us?"

  Something in Jude's eyes changed. He dropped his gaze. Right away, I knew I had read him wrong. I wasn't going to get the answer I wanted. He was going to break my heart. "We've been through something intense and now we have to adjust to life going back to normal, even if it is a new normal. You need to be a regular high school student. This is your senior year. It's an important time. You should be celebrating with your friends and planning your future. I have to go home. I need to grieve with my family."

  He was cutting me off. This was the end of our story. Four whirlwind days. That was all I got. And I shouldn't care. Because these feelings weren't real. In the cold, relentless mountains, Jude had helped me stay alive. I was confusing my gratitude to him for something else. The unsteady beat of my heart when I thought of losing him stemmed from an irrational fear that I still needed him.

  "I don't want to mess this up," Jude said, searching my eyes. He wanted to make sure I was okay. That he wasn't hurting me. I couldn't let him know that my heart felt like it was being severed in two. How could I be hurting so badly when the connection between us was imaginary?

  "Here's my number," he said, handing it to me. "If you need to talk, call anytime, day or night. I mean it, Britt. I can tell you think this is a brush-off, but I'm doing what I think is right. Maybe I'm wrong. I'm probably going to regret this. But I have to do what I think is best, even if it isn't easy."

  Of course it was a brush-off. And why not? The nightmare that had brought us together was over. Jude was right. It was time to go our separate ways. "No, it's fine. You're right. I'm glad you came to say good-bye," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry about Lauren. I wish her story had ended differently."

  "Me too."

  Not knowing what else to say, I reinserted my earbuds. "I should probably finish my run. It was nice knowing you, Jude."

  He looked sad, distressed, and helpless to do anything about it. "Good luck in life, Britt."

  I ran away from him, biting my lip and holding in the sob quivering in my chest. The minute I rounded the next bend and was out of sight, I sank to my knees and stopped fighting.

  I cried myself empty.

  One year later

  EPILOGUE

  "Road trip!" Caz, my college roommate, squealed. She pumped her arms in the air, the hot May breeze flapping her bouncy red hair around her face. Caz was from Brisbane, Australia, and reminded me of Nicole Kidman in that old movie BMX Bandits. Same poodle hair, same adorable accent.

  We had just finished our freshman year at Pierce College in Woodland Hills, California, and we were experiencing the meaning of freedom firsthand. I'd sold back my textbooks, passed my apartment's cleaning check, and skipped my way out the door of my last final. Good riddance, honors chemistry.

  My current list of worldly cares had been whittled down to one thing: having fun, fun, fun in the hot California sun.

  "Neither of you have ever driven PCH?" Juanita, our other roommate, asked from the backseat of my Wrangler. She had her nose in her iPhone, furiously texting her brand-new boyfriend, Adolph. I think he was her first. Caz and I had barely convinced Juanita to come with us. She was afraid after two weeks apart, Adolph would change his mind and dump her. I could talk all I wanted about insecurities and female independence, but I knew what it felt like to find love and lose it. "Just tell me where you want to stop along the way, and I'll dispense information of historical or social importance for each landmark or destination. There's Hearst Castle, Zuma Beach, Wayfarers Chapel--"

  "We don't want to stop!" Caz exclaimed. "That's the point. We want to get as far away from here as possible. We want to drive forever!" She let out a holler that sounded like wheee-hooo!

  "We've rented an obscenely expensive shack near Van Damme State Beach for two weeks, and the deposit is nonrefundable, so you can't drive forever," Juanita pointed out practically. "Whose idea was this again?"

  "Britt's," Caz said. "She's from Idaho and the beach is a big deal. Cut her some slack. She usually spends her summers competing in potato-throwing contests on the farm."

  "And don't people from Brisbane spend their vacations hooning in utes?" I quipped.

  "Bogans have way more street cred than rednecks," said Caz, grinning.

  "There's a great aquarium in Monterey," Juanita said. "We could stop there for lunch. You might appreciate it, Britt. Though it's likely too academic for certain individuals' tastes. Heaven forbid we actually learn something."

  "School's out! No learning!" Caz protested, drumming her fists enthusiastically on the dash.

  "I've heard you can harvest abalone at Van Damme State Beach," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I was such a faker. I knew about harvesting abalone at Van Damme. I'd saved up my pennies working as a campus janitor the past semester, and now I was going to blow them on a two-week beach rental. All because I wanted to eat my first abalone roasted over a campfire, the authentic way.

  Of course, what I really wanted was to see Jude.

  "Yes, harvesting abalone is very popular at Van Damme State Beach," Juanita said. "But it can be very dangerous, especially if you don't know what you're doing. I wouldn't recommend it."

  "I think we should try it," Caz announced.

  "Go ahead," Juanita said, eyes glued to her phone. "I'll sit on the beach and watch you drown from the safety of my towel."

  "You know, that would be a good motto for your life," Caz said, brushing her hand through the air like she was affixing an imaginary banner there. "Sit back and watch."

  "And your motto would be 'Fall headlong into disaster'!" Juanita exclaimed.

  "Especially if disaster is tall, dark, and gorgeous," Caz said, holding her hand up to me for a high-five.

  "Guys," I said. "This is supposed to be fun. No more arguing. Close your eyes. Breathe in the air. Think happy thoughts. And give me your phones--I'm locking them in the glove box. No complaints. Caz, round them up. Here's mine."

  After the phones were stowed, Caz and Juanita relaxed into their seats and I drove the breathtaking stretch of coastal highway, with its twisty, cliff-hugging turns and sharp drop-offs that plunged into foamy white waves. The road's narrow shoulders reminded me of the switchback-riddled mountains of Wyoming, but the similarities ended there. I squinted through my sunglasses at glittering turquoise waves rolling as far as the eye could see. A high, blazing sun beat down on my worshiping freckles-be-damned skin. And the smell of the air. Blooming trees, baked pavement, and the cool, clean tang of sea mist. Nope, this definitely wasn't Wyoming.

&nb
sp; I tried to take it all in, but I could not ignore the inevitability of where this road led. With every passing mile, I was being swept closer to him. If I wanted to see him, this was my chance. My heart leaped with excitement, then plunged with dread. What if he had a girlfriend? What if she was beautiful and smart and perfect?

  I could call him. I had his number. I'd dialed it so many times during the last year, but something had always stopped me on the last digit. What would I say? We didn't exactly have a normal friendship or relationship, so "What's up?" had never seemed right. And "I miss you" felt uncomfortably revealing. Or clingy and strange, like I was making a bigger deal out of our time together than four days warranted.

  I wanted us to bump into each other randomly, I supposed. Like fate was telling us something. Renting a shack near his favorite beach was probably pushing fate's hand, but what if fate never pulled through for me?

  I could get over myself and call him. Whatever. It was just a phone call. If he answered, I always had the option of hanging up. I had a new phone with a new L.A. area code. He couldn't trace the call to me.

  Caz's head lolled against the door frame and her eyes were closed, and Juanita was stretched out in the backseat sleeping. Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned sideways and dug my phone out of the glove box. I dialed his number. With each ring, I felt my nervousness slip away, and something else fill its place. Relief? Disappointment? At last, his answering service picked up.

  "Calling home?" Caz asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

  "A friend in the Bay Area. He didn't pick up. No biggie." I mimicked her yawn, hoping I sounded ho-hum.

  "Friend or love interest?" Caz asked perceptively.

  "Just some guy I used to know." It felt weird to talk to Caz about Jude. Freshman year, Caz had become so much more than a best friend to me. I'd told her things I'd never told anyone, not even Korbie. We had too many inside jokes to count. We shared groceries and didn't divvy up the bill, because it wasn't about keeping score. What was mine was Caz's. We didn't keep secrets, either. And when we fought, we never went to bed angry. We stayed up until we worked it out, even if that meant pulling an all-nighter. So I felt guilty now, knowing that I'd kept Jude from her. But I wasn't sure I was ready to share him with anyone. Maybe because I never really had him. Because I wasn't sure what we had was real. We'd never had a chance to figure it out.

  "We're young, Britt." Caz kicked her heels up on the dash. "We've alive. Save being cautious for when you're dead."

  I watched her with admiration and jealousy. There was a time when I was like Caz. Blown by the wind. Hands in the air. But last spring break, in the mountains, everything had changed. I had changed.

  Caz drove the last half of the trip. Juanita took shotgun, and I sprawled out in the backseat. I had to sing along to the radio to keep my thoughts on track. If I wasn't careful, they wandered back in time, to that night under the tree, replaying the secrets Jude and I had shared, and other things we'd shared.

  An hour before sunset, I saw a sign for Van Damme State Beach. I felt a nervous little flutter in my veins. What if he was at the beach now? Of course he wasn't. But he would be someday--the beach meant too much to him for him to stay away forever. I could write our names in the sand, something sentimental and totally cheesy, and maybe weeks or months from now, he'd walk over the same spot, and suddenly, unaccountably, think of me.

  "Take this exit," I blurted without thinking.

  Caz glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Our beach shack was a few exits north of here, by the bay. I could tell that she was about to tell me this, but she saw my face and made the exit.

  As the car slowed, Juanita sat up and stretched her arms. "Where are we?" she asked groggily.

  "We're going hunting for abalone," Caz said. What's abalone? she mouthed back at me.

  "Sea snails," I answered.

  "Ah," Caz said wisely. "We are hunting for sea snails, which may or may not be code for something else."

  Caz parked, and I pushed out of the Wrangler and walked to the craggy cliffs and bluffs overlooking the ocean. My heart was beating ridiculously fast, and I was glad I had a moment alone to collect myself. Jude wasn't down there. I was getting worked up for no reason.

  The sun's rays skimmed the surface of the water, shimmering a luminous silver. Sharp rocks dotted the shore and seagulls cried out, circling overhead. As I climbed down to the cove, I tried to picture Jude diving for abalone, at ease with the ebb and flow of the current tugging at his body. I never asked him how long he could hold his breath. Whatever his record, I had him beat. I'd been holding mine for a year.

  Several minutes later, Caz scooted carefully down behind me. "Do you see him?"

  "Who?"

  "Abalone."

  I made a face. "You are so dumb."

  "How'd you meet him?"

  "You wouldn't believe me."

  "He was the pizza delivery guy. Your best friend's boyfriend. The pallbearer at your great-uncle Ernest's funeral. Am I getting warmer?"

  More like he kidnapped me, held me hostage, forced me to guide him through the mountains in a blizzard, then saved my life, then I saved his life, we made out, and somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. Yup, that about summed it up.

  "We don't have to talk about him," Caz said. "But if he broke your heart, I will rip out his soul and feed it to my family's pet pig, Big Ol' Pig."

  "That's reassuring."

  "You'd do the same for me."

  "I don't have a pet pig."

  "But I bet you have a pet potato," Caz giggled.

  I slung my arm over her shoulder. "Can I talk you into a beach walk?"

  We left our shoes on, walking along the gravelly sand, out of the tide's reach.

  "Speaking of things I'd do for you," Caz went on, "if you left your ice cream on the counter, I'd put it back in the freezer. If you left your coat at home on a rainy day, I'd drive it to campus."

  "Where's this going?"

  "And if, say, you left your cell in the car and it started ringing, I'd answer it."

  I stared at her for three whole seconds before understanding dawned. "You answered my phone? Who called?" A whirlpool swirled in my belly.

  "Some guy. He'd missed a call from you earlier, but you didn't leave a message, and he didn't recognize your number, so he called back."

  "What did you tell him?" I said, my voice creeping higher with panic. "Did you tell him my name?"

  "I told him if he really wanted to know who the phone belonged to, he could come to Van Damme beach and find out for himself."

  "You didn't!" I grabbed her elbow, propelling her toward the rocky cliff leading back to the car. "We have to leave. Did he say how far away he was? Is he all the way back in San Francisco? Stop dragging your feet, Caz!"

  "That's the crazy thing. He said he's already here."

  "He did not!" I said, my voice shrill.

  "He had to dry off, and then he was going to meet us in the parking lot. I told him that's where he'd find us."

  I could feel heat surge into my face. I was suddenly terrified I'd see him. And terrified I wouldn't. "We have to leave. We have to go, Caz!"

  The rocks were too steep to climb, so I grabbed her hand and started running toward the softer sand dunes farther down the coast. I had to beat Jude to the parking lot. I'd interfered with fate, and this was my payback. Yes, I wanted to see him. But not like this. I didn't know what to say, I hadn't thought of the perfect words yet, and my hair was messy and windblown, and what if he wasn't alone? What if he was here with her?

  What happened next was one of those long, endlessly long moments where time really does seem to slow. Caz and I were running down the beach, and she made some comment about the hot guy strolling our way, and she lifted the brim of her sunhat to fully appreciate his shirtless physique. My feet came to a stop. My brain switched off and I could only stare. In some distant place in my mind, I must have recognized him. I was staring at him after all. But I wasn't thinkin
g anything. I was too shocked to have a single thought. He must have been feeling the same way, because he came up short in the sand. His eyes were taking me in, but the expression on his face was as surprised as it was disbelieving.

  Jude's skin was damp and bronze, the tip of his nose starting to sunburn. His hair hung longer than before, and he slicked it back out of his brown eyes. He had one hand slung loosely in his pocket. There was something carefree and weightless in his posture, and it completely transformed him. Gone was the rugged mountain man with shoulders hunched against the cold, and raw, chafed hands. The guy standing before me was as relaxed and inviting as a well-worn pair of jeans.

  His face warmed with a smile. "For a minute there, you had me stumped. A friend with an Australian accent--nice red herring."

  I couldn't even answer. I stood there, trembling.

  "Sorry I missed your call--I was in the water," he went on, walking toward me, and the smile on his face faltered, his eyes growing serious. Gone was the Jude who masked every feeling. I watched the play of emotion on his face as his eyes drank me in. It made my breath catch. He still felt something for me. It was written unmistakably on his face.

  It was all I needed to know. My restraint left me. I ran and threw myself at him, jumping into his arms, wrapping my legs tightly around his hips, burying my face in his neck.

  I kissed him. It happened so quickly and easily; the months apart compressed into days, minutes, seconds, a mere heartbeat. I brushed my lips over his mouth, his cheekbones, every inch of his strong, beautifully carved face.

  "I can't believe it's really you." He tucked my hair behind my ear and caressed my cheek gently. "You look amazing."

  I laughed. "A shower will do that. And food and sleep."

  "Think I'll mosey along the beach and find my own abalone," Caz said, hitching her thumb up the coast and backing away with a goofy, delighted grin on her face.

  "Caz, wait! This is Jude." I tugged him over by the hand. "Jude, meet my best friend, Caz."

  "A pleasure to meet you," Jude said, shaking her hand formally. The gesture seemed to win over Caz, who beamed approvingly at him.

  She stage-whispered to me, "If you don't want 'im, I'll take 'im."