The Hollow (6 page)

A car rumbled overhead, and I felt the vibrations all the way down to my toes, but I ignored it. Instead I thought about last year, how our first day after school had been spent at this bridge…

''You 'II never guess who asked me if you were taking French this year,
" /
teased Kristen.

Her brown eyes grew wide. "Who? "

"Oh, it
might
have been Trey Hunter.
" /
ruined my feigned composure with a large grin. "He ashed me where you normally sat, and if anyone special sits next to you."

My smile grew larger when I saw her eyes light up at the news. "He even thanked me very nicely after I told him. I think he likes you."

She blushed and looked away. Then her smile faded a bit, and she shook her head. "He probably just wants to ask me if I'll switch seats with him or something. I don't think he actually wants to sit by me. "

"You don't know that, Kris."

"Yes, I do, Abbey. I just … do." She shrugged. When she turned to face me again, sad Kristen had disappeared and happy Kristen was back in her place.

"I have to show you this new shirt I got,
"
she said excitedly. "It's a deep burgundy, with corset lacing up the front. But you have to let me wear it at least once before you borrow it, okay? Because I know you 'II totally try to steal it from me."

Our laughter bounced over the water and came echoing back to us…

Something caught at the edge of my vision and I lost that sound of laughter, snapping back to reality with a sharp jolt. I turned my head slowly, following a shadow until I could clearly see what it was. A small piece of yellow crime scene tape fluttered along the shallow edge of the water below, tangled up in part of a tree branch. It was a cruel reminder of what else had happened here.

I stared at the tape, watching it surge in the water and then flap against the tree. It didn't belong here. It didn't belong anywhere, but
especially
not somewhere that meant a lot to me.

Climbing down from my seat was easy. I had done it a thousand times before, and it didn't take long for my feet to hit solid sround aaain.

Actually removing the piece of tape was not as easy.

I tried, at first, to reach into the river and simply pull it free from the tree, but it was firmly attached to that branch. Then I grabbed a stick with a sharp, jagged edge and tried to use that to unhook it. But I was too far away. No matter how hard I wiggled it, the tape still hung on. So I tried leaning out farther over the water.

That just resulted in making the stick I held too long. The closer I got, the less it wanted to hook on to that piece of tape. I thought about breaking the stick, but then it might end up too short. I was going to have to come up with some sort of different solution, though. The stick idea wasn't working out.

Surveying my surroundings, I saw a large rock that looked like it just might be able to give me the assistance that I needed. It was close enough to the tree that if I stood on it, I could break my stick and try to reach the tape from there.

The only downside was that the rock was in the water. If I
really
wanted that piece of tape, I was going to have to get wet. I looked around again, double-checking my options. There
weren t
any other options. It was this or nothing.

Backing up along the river's edge until I found the driest and least muddy spot, I took off my boots. Then came my socks. I tucked them inside the boots and rolled my jean legs up to my knees. The water looked pretty high out there, and I didn't want to get any more of me wet than was absolutely necessary.

The first step in sent a shiver running through me. Although it barely covered my toes, that water was
cold.
I waded in a little deeper, gritting my teeth as the cold crept up my ankles. Letting my body get used to the temperature for only a moment longer, I plunged forward, trying not to poke myself with the stick that I was dragging behind.

Three more steps and I made it to the rock.

I climbed on carefully, trying to balance with my stick in one hand. Once I had both feet firmly planted, I lifted the stick up and broke off a small piece from the end to shorten it a bit. Then I aimed it in the direction of the crime scene tape. The tape slid off the tree and down onto the stick. I grabbed for it and held it in my hand. Fingering the cold, wet, crinkly texture, I read the words POLICE LINE: DO NOT CROSS over and over again, thinking about the reason it had been placed here.

And then my foot slipped.

The sudden loss of balance surprised me, and left me struggling wildly to recover my footing. I couldn't fall in. No matter what happened, I couldn't fall in. That couldn't happen to me, too. I dropped the stick, and the tape, and leaned slightly to my left.

A couple of jerky wobbles later, and one brief windmilling motion of my arms, and I was able to regain my balance. I watched as the yellow tape floated down the river, riding along the current until it was out of sight. Now that it was gone, the landscape looked normal again.

Stepping very carefully off the rock, I slowly made my way back to shore. The water didn't feel as cold now, but it swirled around my ankles in a tugging motion. It was a precarious feeling, like I could be swept off my feet and carried away at any second.

As I got closer to the river's edge, I paid close attention to the shoreline. Any number of nasty surprises might be hidden along there. Things I didn't want sticking between my toes.

Then the sun reflected on something shiny and half hidden in the mud.

Fearing that it might be a piece of glass, I bent down for a closer look. All I could see were my bare toes. The clear surface of the water revealed the deep blood red that I had painted the toenails. And I remembered another shade of red, the color of Kristen's casket.

Giving a wide berth to whatever that shiny thing was, I stepped out of the water and onto dry land. As I walked toward my shoes and socks, my head was full of thoughts about that day in the cemetery.

"For a moment there I thought you were going to fall in."

I grabbed for my boots and looked wildly around me. Under the bridge, to my left, was a boy. A dramatic black streak stood out in his blond hair. I took a couple of steps toward him, being careful to watch the ground since I was still barefoot, and then looked him straight in the eye.

"Never," I scoffed. "I was in complete control the entire time."

He stared back at me and his voice was soft. "Clearly." My tongue tied, and I wished I had something clever to say.

He just watched me with a small smile on his face, and I couldn't stop staring at his eyes. They were so vivid. I'd never seen a shade of green quite like that before. One corner of his mouth twitched up higher.

Is he laughing at me?

I heard a dull thud and realized that I had dropped one of my boots. I stared dumbly down at it until my brain kicked into gear.

Blushing, and feeling like ten kinds of idiots, I quickly dropped the other one beside it and sank to the ground. My feet were dry enough to put my shoes back on now, but I brushed off some imaginary dirt before slipping on my socks. I paid close attention to each foot, stalling for time. He didn't go away. And he didn't say anything.

After taking an
extraordinary
amount of time relacing each boot, and carefully rearranging the bottoms of my jeans, I dusted my hands off and stood up. He was still standing there, with his hands in his pockets.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Caspian."

He didn't offer anything else. It was starting to get dark now, and I knew I had to get home soon, but there was something I had to ask him. Something I needed to know.

"That day, at Kristen's house… what did you mean when you said you were there because of me?" I held my breath, waiting for him to answer.

I heard each word distinctly when he spoke. "I know how much Kristen meant to you, Abbey."

"You don't even know me. I don't know you. Why-?"

His shoulders rose and fell as he ran a hand through his hair, and he looked shy all of a sudden. "I don't know. I thought that maybe if I was there, it would help you… somehow. I just wanted to be there for you."

Those words took my breath away. "Thank you," I said softly. "It did."

I hated to break the moment, but I knew I was running out of time. "I have to go. I need to get home… dinner…" I couldn't look him directly in the eye. The words he had just said still hung between us. They were huge and powerful words.

"Yeah, me too."

A streetlight above the bridge kicked on automatically as the daylight continued to fade around us. It cast a slight glow downward, leaving half of Caspian's face revealed while the other half was hidden by the darkness.

"So, it was, um, nice to meet you, Caspian, and… I guess I'll see you around sometime," I said nervously.
Is this the right way to say good-bye?

"How are you going to get home?" he asked me.

"I go through the cemetery," I replied. "There's enough room to squeeze between the two main gates on the one side. Or sometimes I cut around the bridge. It takes longer, but it leads me directly to the main road, and I live right off of that."

"Will you do that, Abbey? Go around the bridge and take the main road?" He looked very serious.

"Yeah, I can," I said, although I was fuzzy on the logic behind his question.

"There could be a crazy person in there just waiting for someone to come walking by. I don't want you to get hurt," he said sheepishly.

Oh.
That
was his logic? I had been through the cemetery at night dozens of times before. While it was kind of creepy, and I'd usually had Kristen with me, nothing had ever happened. But I kept that fact to myself.

"Okay." I smiled at him. "Thanks for thinking of me. See you later." I turned to walk away, trying to hide my megawatt grin before he could see it. He didn't want me to get hurt?
Wow.
Just
wow.
I might actually be close to a swoon here.

"What about Saturday, Abbey? Are you free Saturday morning? Will you meet me here?" His voice broke through my giddy thoughts.

I turned back. There was no amount of overdue homework or room cleaning duties that would stop me from answering that one. "I'm free." I tried to sound vague and nonchalant about it. "I can meet you here."

"Good. Saturday, then." The light shone off half of his face, and he was smiling. "Night, Abbey. Sweet dreams."

My stomach dipped.

"Good night… Caspian," I whispered. I don't know if I remembered to smile back or not. I was too busy telling myself not to trip over my own feet as I turned toward the main road.

Yeah, I was
definitely
going to have sweet dreams tonight.

Chapter Six

Great Expectations

I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration.

"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

The next couple of days flew by, but I had a hard time sleeping again on Friday night. Only this time it wasn't nightmares or sad memories keeping me awake. It was excitement. I paced nervously around my room while my brain kicked into overdrive.

What should I wear?

What should I say?

What if he thinks I'm a total dork?

What if he stands me up?

When the clock on the nightstand started creeping close to three a.m., I forced myself to go lie down in bed and think sleepy thoughts. But that didn't work either, and I ended up staring at the ceiling. Glancing over at the clock again, I realized that I had only… Crap. I didn't know how many hours I had left to get some sleep. Caspian never said what time he wanted to meet. Now my brain kicked into super overdrive, worrying about that.

Was nine o'clock too early? I'd have to get up before eight to be ready on time. Maybe ten or ten fifteen was better. Then I wouldn't seem so desperate. I could casually stroll into the cemetery and totally act like I hadn't given it a second thought.
Yeah, that's definitely the way to go.
Desperate was
so
not good.

Satisfied with my decision, I closed my eyes and thought back to the bridge for the hundredth time. Reliving every word he'd said, every gesture he'd made, I examined the memory from every angle. I didn't want to overlook any tiny detail or subtle nuance that had been there.

I don't want you to get hurt.

I couldn't stop a huge smile from spreading over my face as I heard those words in my head again. When I finally was able to fall asleep, I dreamt of piercing green eyes and haunting dark figures half hidden in the shadows.

They were sweet dreams, indeed.

* * *

Saturday morning came
way
too quickly. I stared groggily at the beeping clock, wondering why it was going off at the ungodly hour of nine, when it suddenly dawned on me what I was supposed to be doing today… and who I was supposed to be doing it with.

I jumped out of bed and ran over to the connecting shower. Humming softly, I lathered up my hair in vanilla-scented shampoo and then rinsed off with pink grapefruit shower gel. They both smelled delicious and perked me up even more.

My excitement waned, though, as I started to towel-dry my hair. I desperately tried to tame my wild curls into perfectly defined spirals, but they vehemently disagreed with me on that one. It was a battle I quickly lost.

Begrudgingly I settled for twisting up several sections and piling it all in a loose bun on top of my head. If I shook it out in about thirty minutes, then hopefully it would be sort of wavy.

Waxy hair is making a comeback,
I tried to convince my mirrored reflection.
It's called "soft and romantic." You'll be a trendsetter.
But I didn't really want to set any trends. I just wanted to have sexy hair. With a heavy sigh, I went to go get dressed.

Of course my wardrobe turned out to be a complete crisis too.

The cargo pants I had thought about wearing were
not
very flattering once I actually had them on. If my butt was really as big as it looked in those pants, then I needed to do some squats, or lunges, or something, ASAP.

Panicking, I dug wildly through my closet for something else to wear, and the bed was soon covered in several heaps of hastily discarded clothing. I finally went with my these-always-make-my-butt-look-cute jeans and a long black wraparound sweater. I topped it all off with a red and black plaid fedora hat. After looking myself over exactly twenty-three times in the mirror, I felt pretty confident that my outfit was as good as it was going to get.

Some eyeliner, eye shadow, and a couple dabs of concealer were next, and I was almost done. I swirled some blush over my cheekbones and chose a lipstick in a shade called Daredevil. After carefully applying the lipstick, I cast another critical eye at myself. "What do you think, Kristen?" I said softly to the mirror. "Do I look okay?"

But the mirror didn't answer me, so I turned away to finish getting ready.

My hair was the last step, and I held my breath while I shook out the bun and tousled a couple of pieces. More than once in my life I had wished for perfectly straight blond-as-can-be hair instead of the black curly locks I was stuck with. But today I didn't wish that. Today my hair was soft and sexy.

After putting on my hat at just the right angle, I rearranged a couple of loose tendrils so they framed my face. It was turning out to be a good hair day after all.

I pulled a ten-dollar bill from my wallet and stuck it into my back pocket before grabbing my cell phone to check the clock one last time: 9:54. Perfect timing. It would take me about twenty minutes to get to the river. Punctual, but not desperate.

I hurried out of the room and clambered down the stairs to the kitchen. A note from Mom on the fridge said that she and Dad would be in meetings all day long and that I should pick up dinner later. Even more perfect. No parents asking annoying questions made my day a whole lot better.

There was a twenty-dollar bill under a magnet next to the note, and I could practically
feel
the lightness of the day as I scooped it up. I ate a granola bar and grabbed a cup of orange juice. Then I checked to make sure I had my house key before locking the door on my way out.

It was time to go to the river.

* * *

I tried not to walk too quickly, pacing myself to arrive just before ten thirty. I didn't know if Caspian had meant for me to meet him at the bridge or not, but that's where I was headed.

Skipping the cemetery, I stuck to the main road. My heart was beating faster, and butterflies were starting to swim in my stomach. I could see the bridge now. I scanned the river's edge but didn't see him. My heart sank. He wasn't here.

Yet,
I tried to console myself.
He just isn 't here
yet. He had said he would meet me, so there wasn't any reason to think that he wouldn't.

Maybe he decided against it,
a little voice nagged in the back of my head. Or maybe he had already left. He probably had other things to do instead of waiting by a river all morning long. Doubt filled my mind, and my steps slowed.
Am I too late? Should I go back home?

I checked the clock on my phone again: 10:2. Should I wait? For how long?

Uncertainty prodded me to climb down the embankment. I couldn't see under the bridge, and I clung to some small shred of hope that he might be waiting for me there. Stepping carefully around tree limbs and loose rocks, I made my way down. As I descended lower and the underside of the bridge became more visible, I spotted someone sitting on the ground reading a book. His hair gave him away.

My stomach somersaulted… He was here.

He looked up when he heard me getting closer. His smile was beautiful.

"Hey, Abbey." He closed the book and stood up.

My answering smile was so wide, it felt like my face would split in two. "Hi, Caspian."

He lifted his other hand and held out a slightly wilted violet to me. "Sorry it's all… rumpled. I picked it for you earlier. They grow all over the place here."

I could feel the surprise taking over my entire face as my jaw dropped slightly. I was stunned. I didn't know what to do. He was bringing
me flowers'?

Okay, so technically it wasn't like a dozen roses or anything, but it was still oh-my-God amazing.

I grasped the flower's stem. Right above where his thumb rested. In some other alternate universe, where I was cool and completely not shy, I saw myself sliding my hand down to rest on his, all confident and sexy-like.

But that was
so
not me in this universe, and with a soft sigh I deliberately made sure that there was at least an inch of space between us.

"Thank you," I replied. "It's… beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, Caspian." He grinned at me again, and my heart melted into a puddle at my feet.
Yes,
I wanted to tell him,
you have just made every single romantic fantasy I've ever had come true.
But since Coward is my middle name, I kept my thoughts to myself.

I grew even shyer when his gaze wandered over me. Frantically hoping that my hair still looked as good as it had in my room, I tried to discreetly run my tongue over my teeth in case I had any lipstick smudges on them. "I wasn't sure what time to get here. You never mentioned it." I let my gaze do a bit of wandering too, and noticed that he was dressed in black jeans and a black long sleeve shirt. It suited him, made him look dark and mysterious. And sexy. Very,
very
sexy.

Was I drooling? Good Lord, I hoped not.

He shrugged. "I'm just glad you could make it. Whenever you got here was good enough for me. Did you have sweet dreams?"

I shrugged back, praying a telltale blush wouldn't betray me. "Yeah, sure, I guess I did. I don't really remember my dreams."
Liar, liar, pants on fire.

"You didn't go through the cemetery, did you?" He looked concerned.

"No. I went along the main road."

"Good," he said softly. "Good."

I glanced down at the book he was holding. I couldn't read the title. "How long have you been here?"

"Since seven. I didn't want you to think I was standing you up."

"Since seven? Seven
a.m."
I felt both my eyebrows rise up into my forehead.

"Yeah." He ducked his head shyly and changed the subject. "So, do a lot of people normally come by here?"

"Not really. It's pretty sheltered under the bridge."

He turned and made a slight leading gesture in front of him with his book. "After you, then."

I led the way under the bridge, holding tightly to my flower, and the wind picked up on the water, blowing a cool breeze over us. I caught the slight fragrance of my vanilla shampoo wafting on the wind, and I was glad that I had picked something warm to wear.

We both sat down somewhat awkwardly, with a foot of space between us. I wanted to get closer but wasn't sure how to pull it off smoothly. Settling for "readjusting" my legs, I managed to lessen the space by an inch or two.

He didn't seem to notice at all.

I looked out at the river as I spoke. "So, what book were you reading before I got here?" Not exactly the most exciting of topics, but at least it was conversation.

"Great Expectations.
I've already read it once before, but I'm sort of going back to pick up on all the things I missed. There are a lot of details."

I knew that one.

"Poor Pip and Estella," I sighed. "To be so unhappy for so many years? It kind of seemed cruel to keep bringing them together when they were younger since they could never be together in the end."

"Cruelness was the only reason why they knew each other at all, though," he pointed out. "Miss Havisham manufactured it that way to teach Estella to break hearts."

"I know," I agreed. "But don't you think true love should fix all? I don't know, maybe it's just the romantic in me…" I trailed off, realizing that the conversation was heading toward true love and happily-ever-afters. I didn't want to scare him off already.

"So did you think that the ending was believable?" I steered the conversation back to safer territory. "I really went back and forth on that one. Half of the time I thought it was pure genius, but the other half of the time I thought it was all too unbelievable. Like Dickens just picked the most unlikely twist and made the story work around that."

"I never thought about it that way, Abbey. I always pictured it as Dickens's way of portraying how a single moment can affect our lives so profoundly."

The intense look on his face made me burst out in laughter. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having talking about a book that had been mandatory reading material for school.

"I really didn't want to read it at first. It was assigned to us in eighth grade," I admitted. "Every day we were forced to read a chapter out loud to the whole class. It was sooo boring! And after we got to the part about the mysterious benefactor, this know-it-all kid told everyone who it was. I didn't believe him, so I took the book home that night and finished it. I was completely shocked when it turned out he was right."

"Oh, man." Caspian shook his head in disbelief. "What an idiot. But you must be a fast reader to have finished in one night."

"Well… I
guess
I am. I can usually finish a book in a day or two. In all fairness, though, I had to stay up most of the night and then finish the last chapter right before school the next morning."

"That's still pretty impressive."

His flattery charmed me.
Am I good at anything else 1 could tell him about?
I could make killer French toast… and crepes… and I know the names of all the vice presidents. No, no, too much about me. I didn't want him to think I had an ego the size of Manhattan.

"What about you?" I asked. "You must like reading too. I haven't met very many guys who would reread a book like Great Expectations, or any book for that matter, and then willingly discuss it. You're not secretly recording this conversation for a college term paper, are you?"

He grinned. "No, I just decided to read some of the classics. Enrich myself in literature. Expand my brain. I don't know…" He looked away. "I'm not a fast reader, so it kills a lot of time for me."

"Do you have a lot of time to kill? Aren't you in college or something?" I cringed when I heard my questions out loud. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind," he said. "I'm not going to college right now. I took some time off to… think about my options."

I didn't know what else to say, and we lapsed into silence. I racked my brain, trying to think of something else to talk about that didn't make me sound (a) boring or (b) stalkerish. So far I was drawing a blank. Then I thought about the cemetery behind us as inspiration.