The Clearing (8 page)

"I won't do it again," I said.

The look on Mae's face was making me feel like crap. I thought she was done, but she kept going. "Didn't your mother ever hold you accountable for anything?"

I shoved my hands in my hoodie's pockets. "I guess."

"I'l take that as a no. And maybe that's how you got here, sweetie."

I bristled. "Um, what do you mean by that?"

Mae sighed and gave me a weary look. "I only mean that if your mother had set certain limits, then maybe—"

"Then maybe I wouldn't have hooked up with a jerk like Matt? Is that what you mean?" Hot tears stung my eyes. "Mae, seriously?"

She got out of her chair and lowered herself gingerly onto the couch next to me. "Now, Amy, hold on a minute. I didn't mean to sound like an ogre. That's my tired, old, grouchy body talking. I can't hike around like I used to. I'm beat from chasing after you."

My heart was stil racing. "Mae. Wil you answer me? Is that what you seriously mean? I thought you said Mom did the best she could."

Mae smoothed the throw draped over the arm of the couch. "I just mean, if I'd been your parent, I wouldn't have let you grow up like this."

"But you're not." My voice sounded cold, even to my own ears.

"No," Mae said. "I'm just your old great-aunt. But while you're here with me, you'l live by my—no—
our
rules. And rule number one is pretty simple—don't run off."

"I didn't run off. I wasn't paying attention to the time."

Mae gave me a sad look. "My dear, time is the one thing you should pay attention to. One day, you'l find there's never enough of it." She got up and shuffled off to bed, leaving me there on the couch.

***

The next day was a blur. It started with Mae barely talking to me over our breakfast of cold cereal, progressed through Jackson and Lori chatting like I wasn't at the lunch table, and went on to teachers looking right through me. I was beginning to feel like a ghost that no one could see.

But I almost didn't care.

I spent the hours daydreaming about the creek and Henry. Feeling the scratch of the wool blanket beneath my arms. Savoring the taste of the buttery biscuit melting in my mouth. Hearing the sound of the stream rushing over stones. When life could be as simple as that, who needed the rest of it?

On the bus, I leaned against the window, enjoying the view of green fields and farms we passed, marveling at the beautiful browns and grays of the rocky hil s around us, the deep rusts of the cattle, the blue-green water of the Skagit as we drove over the bridge and up the highway.

Somewhere after the blueberry farm, Lori slid into the seat next to me. "It's real y too bad we don't have any classes together," she said. "Are you going to try out for soccer?"

"Um, no. I'm not real y a soccer person anymore." I didn't tel her I'd been into a few different sports back at my old school. That was part of the old me.

"Oh, okay then," she said in a bored voice. She turned away and pul ed a lip gloss and a compact mirror out of her purse.

I realized I was doing that antisocial thing again. "I'l be yel ing for you on the sidelines, though," I said, giving her a smile.

"Cool," Lori said. She capped the gloss and leaned over closer to me. "Listen, I don't know if you're even interested, but I was going to have some people over tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah. It's Friday, remember? My folks are headed down to visit my sister in Tacoma. I've got the place to myself."

"Oh, gotcha. Wel , um ... who's going to be there?"

"I'm trying to keep it smal ," she said. "Just a few select friends." She tilted her head at me. "I know you're just getting to know everyone. But, if you want to, just show up tonight..."

The bus lurched to a stop and I grabbed my backpack.

"See ya," Lori cal ed as I headed down the aisle to the door. She was trying to be nice to me, I guess. I didn't know if she even real y wanted me to come to her party, and real y, I didn't know if I'd be able to go. Mae was probably stil mad about yesterday.

Yesterday.

I stil didn't get how what seemed like minutes with Henry had turned into hours. It was just being in good company, I guessed. He made me feel comfortable and the time had just zipped by. I doubted a party at Lori's would be half as fun as that afternoon with Henry.

I figured I should go, though. At least put in an appearance. Maybe I could bring Henry with me to Lori's. Would that be weird—bringing a homeschooled guy with me? It sure would make things easier going with someone I knew would want to hang out and talk. I wasn't sure I could face a house party on my own.

***

Mae agreed to let me walk over to Lori's place early that night. I think she was overjoyed I actual y had made friends with the girl. I gave Mae a hug goodbye, since things seemed better between us, and headed out the door just before sunset.

But before I left for Lori's, I went to get Henry. I cal ed his name as I reached his side of the mist, and he came jogging toward me in the clearing.

"Hel o, again. What are you doing here?" He was wearing basical y the same outfit from the day before—work boots, brown pants, suspenders, a white shirt with the sleeves rol ed up over his strong forearms. Man, he was solid.

"Hey." I returned his bright smile.

His face was tan, which made his blue, blue eyes stand out and his teeth look white as milk. "Wel ," he said, clearing his throat, "you're al gussied up this evening. What's the occasion?" He brushed a hand through his sandy blond hair to smooth it. I figured al my staring must have made him self-conscious, but I couldn't help it. How had I not noticed that Henry was super cute?

I laughed and wrinkled my nose at him. "I wouldn't cal this gussied up."

"What do you mean? Look at you—you're shiny."

"It's cal ed a scarf. It's just got a few sparkles." I tugged at the ends of the accessory that was draped over my plain white tee and black zip sweatshirt.

"No,
you
look shiny." He pointed at my lips and then sort of blushed.

"Oh." I shrugged. "Gloss with gold flecks. It's my going-out look."

"So you're going out on the town?"

"Nah, just to Lori's down the road. That's why I came out to get you. I wondered if you might want to go."

"Oh, I see." He rubbed a hand across his jaw line.

I bit my lip, waiting for Henry's answer. I mean, not that I cared. We were just friends, but stil . "It's probably going to be lame," I said, starting to feel heat creeping into my cheeks. "You don't have to go."

"It's very kind of you to invite me," Henry said. "But, I'm sorry. I can't accompany you."

"Okay. I understand," I said quickly.

Henry took a step toward me. "Amy, I real y would like to go with you."

"It's okay, you don't have to explain," I said, just wanting to run now.

"Wait a second," he said as he reached out for my hand. "Real y. If I could, I would." His hand felt warm and dry, and feeling him touch me was strange, but not uncomfortable. I got the sudden urge to hug him.

"I just wanted to go ... as friends," I said, easing away.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I wasn't expecting anything else."

I looked up at him. His eyes were focused on me intently, and there was genuine warmth there. I never used to believe it when people said that someone had kind eyes, but just then it made sense, because Henry had them.

"You go on and have fun," he said. "I'l see you here again. Wil you come tomorrow?"

I nodded and walked off toward my side of the clearing.

I knew he was watching me. It felt good. And terrifying.

***

"Ohmigosh! Cute scarf!" Lori met me at her front door, pul ing me inside, where a virtual mass of kids was churning like an ocean. Loud country music blasted from a stereo somewhere, barely covering the roar of conversations and laughter.

"Just a few friends?" I reached into my bag and pul ed out a jar of strawberry preserves, which Mae had insisted I bring to Lori and her folks.

Lori shrugged and abandoned the jar on a bookshelf next to a mini-statue of a jumping trout. "It's a little bigger than I planned," she said, throwing up her hands. She steadied herself against the bookshelf and tugged at the back of her tights. She'd gone from jeans and T-shirt at school to a short black dress and wobbly high heels. And she was extra wobbly, from what I could tel .

"Yeah, it's packed. Are al these people your friends?"

Lori reached out and put her hands on my shoulders, pushing me into the mass of kids. "Booze in the kitchen," she shouted, melting into the crowd herself.

I stood there for a minute, getting jostled and feeling total y out of place. After the second elbow to my side from a wild dancer, I forced my way through the partygoers and found the kitchen. A girl I remembered seeing in my AP English class handed me a can of beer. I took it from her, but I didn't crack it open; I was too stunned by her completely chugging down the one she'd taken for herself. Laughing, she threw the empty can into the sink and then fel into the arms of a guy in a Rockvil e Roosters shirt who escorted her off toward the living room dance floor.

"Hi," I said to two girls snacking from a bowl of chips.

They mumbled greetings to me, then went back to their conversation.

I rol ed the cold can back and forth in my hands, and thinking about how in the old days, I'd have Matt to talk to. Matt to ease my way through the crowd of people I didn't know. Matt to make everything seem normal, regular.

"Not your favorite brew?" Jackson nudged me.

"Oh, hey," I said. "No, um, I'm not much of a drinker."
Anymore,
I added silently.

"Me neither." Jackson saluted me with his red party cup. "Pop," he said. "I've got the car tonight and my mom would kil me if I were out drinking."

"Cool." I didn't real y know what to say next, so I stared at the col ection of state-shaped magnets on Lori's green refrigerator. Alaska and Kentucky were holding down a school lunch menu. Idaho anchored a shopping list.

Cat food

Peanut butter

Toilet paper

Cheese

"Okay, wel ..." Jackson turned to go.

"Wait," I said. "Um, so, how did you like that last essay question on the English test?"

"It was okay," he said.

"I hope I passed." I leaned back against the fridge.

Jackson took a sip from his red cup. "Just wait until the mid-quarter exam. She real y kil s on that one," he said, looking back over his shoulder.

"Are you, um, do you have to go or something?"

Just then, a brunette from our math class slid up next to him. "Hey, Jackson, I need another beer!" she whined, tugging on his sweatshirt.

He gave me a sheepish look.

"Please, help yourself," I said, stepping out of the way.

"Amy—look, I'l catch you later," Jackson said.

But I was already moving toward the back porch, which I could see was nearly deserted. I sat down on a wicker bench, next to a guy who was propped up against a post snoring. I hadn't always been a wal flower—and yet here I was mostly al alone on a stupid bench. From my perch, I could see Lori's sprawling back lawn, bordered by a woodlot of evergreens. A rusty swing set was highlighted by a motion sensor light that kept flipping on and off as kids wandered by.
Click. Hum. Click. Hum.

My thumb rubbed the tab of the beer. It wasn't like the sweet drinks Matt sometimes whipped up for me at the parties we went to, but beer had sometimes done the trick then, too. Drink after drink, and then Matt would start to get different. And if I hadn't had too much to drink myself, I would see it coming. The glaze that took over his eyes. The slow smile that eased across his face.

"How are we doing over here?"

I looked up to see Quinn, and I felt a smal sense of relief. At least there was one person I could talk to. Someone to jar me out of these stupid thoughts about Matt.

Quinn plunked down next to me, elbowing the snoring guy awake. The guy gave him an annoyed look, but rose from the bench and then stumbled off into the party.

"So," Quinn said, "where were we? Oh, I know—how are we doing over here? And that's the part you fil in..."

"I'm fine," I said.

He set down the cup he was holding and took the beer from my hands. "See, you have to flip back this little tab." He gave me a slow smile as he handed back the open can. "Now you'l be more than fine."

"Yeah, thanks." I took it from him but didn't take a sip.

"Lori's folks are going to be so pissed when they get back from Tacoma tomorrow." He shook his head and swirled the drink in his hand.

"She doesn't normal y party like this?"

"Not since I've known her." Quinn said. "But she invited Jane, who invited Melanie, and Melanie invited some friends, and so on, and so on."

He took a long sip from his cup. "So where's Jackson?"

"How should I know?"

"Come on, the guy is drooling over you," Quinn said with a laugh. "Don't play that you don't see it."

"Jackson's here with some brunette from our math class," I said.

"Shel i Wilson," Quinn said, nodding. "That makes sense. They used to go out."

I shrugged. "Then I guess it does make sense." I set down the beer can and picked up a pil ow embroidered with HOME, SWEET HOME.

Jackson with his drunk ex, that was just great.

Quinn stroked back his long bangs and leaned against the post. "You know, it's pretty loud, even out here. We could go somewhere else to talk, if you want."

"Um, that's okay; this is fine."

"Wel , I didn't mean just talk," Quinn said, his eyes twinkling.

I frowned at him. "Um, what about Melanie?"

"We're—we're not that serious," he said. "She doesn't know everything I do. I just figured you might like to get to know me better." Quinn scooted closer to me on the bench. "I don't know ... There's something between us. Can't you feel it?"

I felt myself blush. I couldn't help it. I did think Quinn was cute—I had from the first time I saw him in the grocery store—but come on!