House at the End of the Street (10 page)

He’d found a stretch of woods off the highway and spent an hour digging the hole, making sure it was deep enough. He carefully set her body down inside it, laying a soft blanket over her. He tucked the teddy bear beside her and then covered her with dirt. He had to stop several times when he was overcome. The sadness of it doubled him over. Every muscle was tense and aching.

He hunched over, pushing the glass of water around in front of him. The waitress behind the counter was tall and thin, a blond girl in a Penn State sweatshirt. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She kept watching him, adding to his uneasiness.

“Boy, you’re really working that
Rebel Without a Cause
thing pretty hard over there,” she said as she poured a cup of coffee for another customer.

Ryan didn’t respond. She went to the rotating glass case, where an assortment of pies and cakes spun around under fluorescent bulbs. She pulled out a chocolate frosted cake with cookie crumbs on top of it, then cut a massive piece. “Here—on the house.” She slid the plate in front of him.

“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.” He pushed it away.

The girl leaned forward, studying him. “You gonna turn down Mrs. Hodges’ mud cake? Don’t let her hear you. She’ll get real offended.” She glanced across the diner, where a stocky woman with huge biceps was mopping the floor.

Ryan pulled the cake back, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the girl. She looked about Carrie Anne’s height, with dirty blond hair that fell midway down her back. She had light brown eyes and thin, delicate hands. He felt a pull to her, but he wasn’t sure why. Even as she turned away, clearing a few plates off the counter, his eyes lingered on her.

For a brief moment he felt nothing about what had happened that night. He wasn’t fixated on the way his arm had pressed down on Carrie Anne’s neck, or how she’d looked when she fell off of him, her brilliant blue eyes still open, watching.

“I
don’t get it,” Jillian said, folding her legs underneath her. “Maybe it’s his PTSD.”

“He basically threw me out of his house,” Elissa said. “He said I needed to leave.”

Jillian sucked down the last of her diet soda, making a slurping sound with the straw. “If I were you, I would blow him off for a few days. Ice him out. Nothing.”

Elissa clutched the neck of her guitar in her hand and stared out the barn doors. Robbie and Jake were warming up, the melody of a song—
her song
—filling the air. “I haven’t spoken to him yet. I just want to know what happened,” she said. “We were having fun, I thought. But then he just freaked.”

Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Ryan’s name came up on the screen. She opened it slowly, wondering if he had somehow sensed they were talking about him. She took the call but didn’t say anything.

“Elissa? It’s me,” he said. “I want to see you.”

“What happened the other night?” Elissa stood, moving to a corner of the barn. She pressed one finger in her ear to drown out the music in the background.

“I’m sorry about that…I…” Ryan sounded strange, as if he were uncertain.

“Are you okay?” Elissa tried.

Behind her, Jake played a few notes on his bass, finishing his warm-up. “Hey—are we going to play or what?” he called to her. Robbie stood beside him, adjusting the amps.

“I need to see you,” Ryan went on. “There are things I need to tell you.”

Elissa glanced back, watching as Robbie walked around in a circle, strumming a few chords. A ten-minute break had turned into a thirty-minute break, and even that wasn’t enough time for Elissa to tell Jillian what had happened at Ryan’s house two nights ago. Jake looked like he might smash his bass on the ground if Elissa didn’t get off the phone soon.

“I want to see you too,” she said. “But I’ve gotta go now. I’m performing tonight at the Battle of the Bands at school. Why don’t you come?”

There was a long pause, until Ryan finally said something that sounded like “okay.” She hung up the phone, feeling a hundred things at once—relieved, elated, nervous, confused. What did he want to tell her? Did he realize how hurt she was about the other day? Why had he completely freaked out?

Jillian sidled up beside her. “I would ask who that was, but I can tell by the smile on your face.”

Elissa nodded, tucking the phone back in her pocket. “He’s coming tonight. He wants to see me.”

She would’ve said more, but Robbie called out to them. “Enough boy talk. We have two hours until the show. Come on, Lissa.”

She went to them, listening to Jake count down the song. But as they started to play, she was more excited about the show than ever. Not just because they were genuinely good—most likely the best band competing tonight. And not just because Sarah had (in an attempt to apologize) bought her this cool glow-in-the-dark makeup that would make her radiant under the spotlights. Ryan would be there tonight, and they’d finally talk. Whatever had happened between them the other day—the kiss, that moment on the couch—had been real. It had meant something.

She moved her fingers over the frets, losing herself in the song. When she sang the first few notes, they were
clearer than they’d ever been. Tonight was going to be a good night. Elissa could feel it.

E
lissa studied herself in the backstage mirrors, liking the way the iridescent paint made the light dance on her skin. She’d let her hair fall down her back in her messy, I-don’tuse-a-blow-dryer waves. In her tight T-shirt and ripped jeans she looked cool, relaxed even. It was times like these she wished her father could see her. There was so much of him in everything she did—even when he wasn’t there to witness it.

She stuck her thumb into the pot of makeup, ready to smear some over her eyes, when she saw a familiar face behind her. “You made it,” she said, catching Ryan’s eyes in the mirror. She stood, not quite certain whether to hug him or not. He seemed like a stranger to her now. His hair was messy and his shirt and jacket were disheveled, as if he hadn’t changed in days.

“Yeah…I wanted to wish you luck,” he said. He dropped his head to stare at the floor, avoiding her eyes.

“I’m glad you came.” She reached for his hands, but Robbie pushed into the room, nearly knocking Ryan over with the door. His face was panicked.

“Dude—you have the big old car, right?” he asked. “Tyler Reynolds and his friends are trashing it.”

Ryan didn’t even look at Elissa as he pushed past Robbie,
running toward the parking lot. She and Robbie followed behind him. The hallway was crowded with kids waiting to be let into the auditorium. But most of them had left the line and migrated to the windows. They stared into the back parking lot. One girl laughed as Ryan ran past; another boy stood there with his hand over his mouth.

Elissa’s heart stopped when they pushed out the back door. Tyler had a baseball bat out. His friends—including Zak, the stoner kid she’d seen him with at school—were all egging him on. He pulled the bat back, then swung it, smashing Ryan’s windshield. Zak grabbed the bat and landed another blow into a front headlight, sending plastic and glass flying.

Ryan was running toward them, his face a deep red. As soon as the crowd of boys saw him they turned. Ryan swung at Tyler and the rest of the boys jumped on top of him, one kicking him hard in the side.

“Leave him alone!” Elissa screamed. She turned, looking for help. All of the students in the parking lot stood there frozen, watching. None of them said a word as another guy punched Ryan in the stomach. Ryan tried to stand, but Tyler pushed him down. Elissa ran forward, but a boy named Curtis grabbed her and held her arms. “Get off me!” she screamed.

Tyler looked more callous than he had the night of the party. There was a slow rage burning in his eyes. As
Ryan tried to stand, he leaned over him, taunting him. “Mommy’s not around anymore to protect you, is she?”

Zak circled them. His hands were still balled into tight fists. “I think he wants to show us what he had for lunch,” he spat. With that, he wheeled back, delivering a kick in Ryan’s side, just below his ribs. Ryan doubled over in pain.

Tears welled in Elissa’s eyes. She couldn’t stand to watch anyone being abused like that. “Stop it! You’re going to kill him!” she yelled. But as she screamed, Ryan finally raised his head, calmer than she’d ever seen him before. Tyler charged him, whipping his leg around to deliver a blow to Ryan’s face, but Ryan caught his ankle in time. He twisted it and Tyler fell, landing hard on the concrete.

Ryan stood, towering above him. His face was streaked with blood. Tyler looked scared for the first time since the fight started. A few of his friends stepped back away from them. Ryan held on to Tyler’s foot and twisted it suddenly to one side. Even from a few feet away, Elissa heard the bone snap. Tyler threw his head back in pain.

Curtis dropped her arms. She stood there, frozen, as Ryan stomped on Tyler’s ankle again, the bones breaking beneath Ryan’s heavy boot. Tyler’s face was strange. His chest heaved. It took his friends a second to process it, but Zak stepped forward, angrier than before. “You little bitch!” he yelled at Ryan.

The crowd closed in around him, ready to attack him again. But Ryan broke free just as Zak reached for his shirt.
He sprinted across the parking lot and disappeared into the woods. Elissa looked around. There were hundreds of people outside now, even though no one did a thing. A police siren howled in the distance. Curtis knelt down by Tyler’s side, trying to help him.

“He’s only got one place to go,” Zak yelled to the rest of the boys. “Come on.”

One by one they piled into his yellow SUV. The massive car screeched out of the parking lot.

Elissa couldn’t breathe. Her hands shook as she took in the scene. Ryan’s father’s car had a broken headlight, two broken taillights, and a smashed windshield. There was a giant dent in the passenger side door. She smelled something sharp and acidic. It took her a second to realize a few of the boys had urinated on the front hood.

She staggered forward. The pavement was covered with blood. She looked down, studying the small object beside her right shoe. It was the Magic Eight Ball—the plastic toy had broken off the key chain. A few feet away were Ryan’s keys, which must’ve fallen from his pocket during the fight. She picked them up, turning them over in her hands. Ryan was running home. The boys were in the car, trying to beat him there. If and when they did, Ryan would be locked out. Unless she left now, trying to stop them, he wouldn’t have a chance.