Fearscape (13 page)

“
The intellectual sport,” Val said.

“
Yes, quite. Though running is not without its merits. Supposedly, aerobic activity increases the formation of new synapses — and there's you. I bet you look amazing when you run.”

And that sent a pang through her —

(Tell me, why is it that you run? Is it to chase? Or to flee?)

“
Come watch us sometime.”

(I'd give a lot to)

“
Perhaps I will.”

(know.)

▪▫▪▫▪▫▪

Running
was
amazing.

Val admitted this to herself later, on the track field. She loved the way her body felt as she ripped through the air. There were moments, after getting good purchase on the track for a bound, that she almost felt as if invisible wings were unfurling from her back, giving her extra lift.

She couldn't really blame Gavin for his interest, particularly since she had made it so clear that running was important to her. James certainly hadn't. She should be flattered, really.

Curse her stalker.

Curse James.

Curse Lisa.

It had been exactly one week since her fight with Lisa. The blonde girl had been ignoring her, both at school and on Facebook, and had thus far made no attempts at reconciliation. Clearly the expectation was that she, Val, should be the first to wave the olive branch. That was how it had always happened in the past.
Well, not this time
.

She let out her breath. Pain knifed through her side, causing her to falter a little. After an hour of running she was starting to get fatigued. A leaden heaviness had settled in her calves and there was a lump in her throat that refused to yield to her frequent swallows.

With a sigh that was part wheeze, Val jogged to the water fountain. It was a crude spigot, hanging over a wooden trough filled with gravel, but all that mattered was that the water was cold and didn't taste too much like undissolved zinc. She took a long, deep drink, cupping her hands beneath the steady stream of water to splash her sweaty face.

“
Val, you're on fire,” Lindsay panted. “What's your secret?”

Val lowered her hands, causing the excess water to fall against the gravel with a slap. “Anger,” she said, once she'd caught her breath. “Lisa is mad at me for some stupid reason. And I'm mad at her, too. I think.”

“
You think?” Rachel, who had joined them early enough to hear the start of this conversation, lifted one dark eyebrow. “You mean you aren't sure?”

“
No, I'm mad. But I'm also disappointed and kind of sad. We've been friends for a while.”

“
Hey, if she's willing to throw that away over something that stupid — what got her panties in a twist again, you not
wanting to date her precious James?” Rachel snorted. “That says more about her than you. She's not your pimp.”

“
Yeah, I mean seriously,” Lindsay said, swiping her forehead with the back of her terrycloth wristbands. “I never really liked her, though.”

“
How
are
things with Hi — with that Gavin guy? He still behaving himself?”

Val looked at Rachel sharply but the near-slip appeared to be unintentional. “Things have been okay. He's been, um, very friendly. We talk in Art sometimes.”

Though he'd been a little scarce lately.

She didn't have his cell, and he didn't have a Facebook, so she only really talked to him at school. Sometimes he didn't even talk to her in Art at all, and she kept fearing that he, too, would lose interest in her, and end up kicking her to the curb.

The thought made her feel terribly lonely. Without James or Lisa in her life, Val was suddenly, painfully conscious of just how her social circle was.

“
Have you kissed him yet?” Lindsay wanted to know.

“
Um, well … yes?”

“
How was he?” Rachel asked, grinning.

“
I don't know.” Val turned red. “I've never actually kissed anyone before.”

“
Aww, are you blushing? You are too cute.” Rachel patted her on the head. “Isn't she cute?”

“
Very,” Lindsay agreed. “Just make sure Gavin keeps his hands to himself when he's not welcome. If he doesn't treat you right,” she punched her fist into her palm, “we'll rough him up.”

“
Good luck with that, Wonder Woman,” Rachel said.

A drop of water fell on Val's nose. She winced, thinking it was a bead of sweat. Then another fell as she tilted her head up, right in the eye, and she noticed how the sky was darkening. Clouds as black as blobs of ink were rolling in, blotting out the tentative, greenish light peeking through the cloud cover. A cold wind ringed the three girls and Val went from burning up to freezing.

“
God, that's cold.” Val rubbed at her bare arms, shivering. “Looks like a big storm.”

Lindsay stuck her tongue out at the clouds. “Back in Kansas, a sky like that meant business.”

“
I didn't know you used to live in Kansas.”

“
Me, either.” Rachel cut her eyes at Lindsay. “Bitch. I thought we were best friends. What else haven't you been telling me?”

“
It's not something I like to tell people. It makes people think I'm a hick or that I have inbred cousins.” She rolled her eyes. “Like they wouldn't get just as uptight if they were asked about their backyard marijuana gardens and movie star neighbors.”

“
That's just dumb,” said Val.

“
I don't think of inbred cousins,” Rachel said helpfully. “I think of the Wizard of — ”

“
Finish that sentence and you're a dead woman,” Lindsay said.

“
Come on girls.” The coach clapped her hands and all three of them looked up. “Locker rooms, stat. We've been rained out.”

“
Well, you heard the coach. Let's get hopping, Toto. We're not on the track field anymore.”

Rachel squealed as Lindsay lunged for her. The two of them zigzagged through the rain, giggling and shouting, as they knotted through their tired teammates.

Val laughed, and then cut off guiltily as if she felt it weren't something she was permitted to do. She eyed the dark clouds looming from behind, and at the shadowy bleachers. It was creepy. She felt watched, but there was nobody there. None that she could see, anyway.

I wonder.

But when she got to her locker it was clean. No flowers. No poetry. No writing.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief and slung her backpack over her shoulder. There was no point in changing into her regular clothes, she thought. They'd just get soaked — and she was already sweaty. She pulled out her phone from her track jacket and dialed home but no one answered.

Did her mother have something going on today? No, she hadn't given Val bus fare.

“
Come on,” she said, dialing again. “Mom, what the hell? Pick up the phone.”

But the busy signal was obstinate.

“
Damn it.” Val plopped down on the school's rain-slicked front steps with her wet hair hanging in her eyes.
Now what am I supposed to do?
She started to call Lindsay, hoping her friend hadn't already gotten too far from campus, when a white Camaro rolled up to the curb.

The window cranked down, and a familiar voice said, “Val?”

She jumped up, raking her hair out of her face. “Gavin? Where did you come from?”

“
The art building. I was helping Ms. Wilcox with things.” He trailed off. “Are you waiting for someone?”

“
My mom. I'm going to be running a fever if she doesn't get here soon.”

“
Is she on her way?”

“
No,” Val said. “I can't get hold of her.”

“
I could give you a ride,” he said carefully.

She felt a bolt of dread and something else, something like anticipation. “I live on the other side of town from here. I'm probably way out of your way.”

“
You are, but you can wait at my house, if you like. Surely you have someone else that you can call to pick you up.” When she hesitated, his smile morphed into a grin. “I don't bite, Val. Not hard. Not unless I'm asked to.”

The rain did nothing to cool her face. “Okay,” she mumbled.

“
Get in.” He reached over and popped the lock for her — a manual lock. God, this car was old. She opened the door and slid into the seat, aware that she was dripping water all over the upholstery and floor. “I'm getting water everywhere — ”

“
It's nothing.” He turned up the heater.

The inside of the car was clean and warm, smelling of leather, and coffee, and aftershave. Val relaxed a little at the soothing blend of scents and tugged off her jacket, holding it in front of the hot air blasting from his dashboard. Her skin felt clammy and dead where it had been in contact with the wet fabric. She shivered again, and caught him glancing at her uniform.

She hugged her backpack to her chest. “Thanks again.”

“
It's nothing,” he said.

The silence made her uncomfortable. He didn't listen to music and except for the patter of rain and the roar of the heater, it was silent.

“
I hope this isn't weird,” she blurted.

“
Weird?” His eyes flicked towards her and returned to the road.

“
You still don't know anything about me. For all you know, I could be a psychopath.”

He smiled at that, but kept his eyes straight ahead. “I'll take my chances.”

“
I could even be a serial killer,” she went on, emboldened, wanting to make him laugh.

He did.

Gavin lived near the hills, in the foothills practically, in one of the larger houses. He pressed a button on his keys and the garage door swung open. As he maneuvered the car inside she couldn't help noticing how empty it was. Her father would have killed for such Spartan neatness.

“
It's so clean,” she said, doing a little spin. “Did your dad do this?”

Oh, wait. He didn't have a dad, she remembered. Or at least, not a listed one. She nearly apologized and then remembered that she wasn't supposed to know that.

“
I did it myself,” he said, “thanks. It's convenient, parking inside. No need to get wet.”

She nodded, and slung her jacket over her arm.
Idiot
, she chastened.
He hates you
.

Gavin opened the door leading into the house. The rooms were big, but bereft. She stared at what she supposed was the living room, devoid of anything but two chairs, a bookshelf, a love seat, and a chess table. “Your family's not too big on TV, huh?” she said.

“
I live alone.”

“
Oh.” She blinked as the implications of those words sank in. “Oh, God — I'm so sorry!”

“
They're not dead. I just don't live with them. I haven't for a while, now. Not since I was sixteen.”

It took Val a moment to speak. “I thought you had to be eighteen to — ”

“
Live alone?” he finished. “Technically, you do. But there are always exceptions. You'll learn that soon enough. Go ahead and sit down. I'm going to make some tea. It's cold in here.”

Val sat in the chair closest to the chess set and tried her phone again. The line was still busy. She set it on the edge of the table, shaking her head. Living alone since age sixteen? She couldn't imagine. That sounded so lonely. No wonder he was so strange! Her parents weren't perfect, but she wouldn't even know where to begin without them.

(his family is crazy)

Had he been one of those — what was the phrase? — emancipated minors?

Gavin walked back into the room and handed her a steaming cup of tea, setting his own down at the table before taking the chair across from hers. His eyes skipped from the board to her face. “Do you play?” he asked, taking a sip of tea.

The fumes from hers were heady and sweet. Mint, she thought. “No.”

He set the cup down. “I can teach you. Would you like to learn?”

Val stared at the small army of pieces. There were so many. “If you want to teach me.”

“
It would be a pleasure, Val. Really, the game is quite simple once you understand how they move. The short, round ones are pawns — ” he picked up one of the stunted chessmen comprising the first rank “ — they can only move one space forward at a time and always capture diagonally. Except for the first move, where they have the choice of moving two spaces — and for
en passant
, where a pawn can capture
another pawn that has also moved ahead two.”

“
Pawn passant,” Val said.