The Line That Binds (9 page)

Benjamin.

From what I recalled at the will reading, his grandfather was shorter with a much wider frame, so it couldn’t have been him. I watched Benjamin’s taller, slimmer body walk toward the setting sun until he and his elongated shadow disappeared around the side of stone barn. Within a minute, I heard a faint motor rev. It sounded like chainsaw and I wondered what kind of work he’d have to do on a Sunday evening. I was about to go skim through Gavin’s eReader, hoping to find a something other than a comic book, or go scope the selection in Janine’s office, until I saw a dirt bike tear out of the barn, zipping toward the forest.

Benjamin raced the bike around, testing gravity as he hit a few hills and jumped high enough to cause butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t move. My sudden fascination was a bewildering mix of fear and admiration, wound in a tight ball of anxiety. Within minutes, he disappeared into the woods and I was left at the window, gazing at the trees highlighted with soft orange streaks from the setting sun.

For some reason, I pictured his cute dimples when he’d smirked at me. There was something intriguing about him. The way he acted yesterday was contradictory. Any normal guy would’ve politely left the room when discovering me in the bathtub. Any sleaze bucket would’ve hit on me repeatedly. He didn’t really do either. He looked shocked at first then possibly annoyed.

I shook my head. There were enough things on my mind without overloading it with thoughts of guys. This was literally the first time I’d been single since early freshman year. I’d dated three guys in three years, back-to-back. The relationships butted together like the racks inside the Mega Thrift. It wasn’t intentional; it just happened that way. The last one, Mark, wasn’t even officially over. At least, I hadn’t received a call or text saying it was over. I’d just assumed it was after he’d found out that I was broke and the bank was taking my house. I hadn’t seen him in three weeks. I hadn’t talked to him in two.

It was over.

I scanned the landscape of the property that I’d own before the end of the school year. It was peaceful, a huge change from the busy areas of Summerlin and Las Vegas. I was so accustomed to the loud sounds of the city: trains, planes, and sirens. The silence here would be difficult to get used to. It made me completely aware of myself, whether I wanted to be or not. Or maybe that self-awareness was internal. Either way, I was taking a hard look at myself for one of the first times, and I was ashamed.

A thicket of brush caught my eye before I left the window. It lined part of the wood’s edge behind the mansion’s courtyard, past the stone gazebo. The mass of knotted vines and bushes were sloppy compared with the rest of the groomed property. Through some thin breaks in the trees, I could see a roof that looked like the top of a well.
The
well.

“Benj! Where the hell have you been, man?” Sebastian, a.k.a. Spaz, called down the hallway in his usual I-don’t-give-a-crap voice.

I nudged through the sea of underclassmen exiting the cafeteria, parting them easily with my height advantage. Most of them had their noses buried in their schedules, searching for their next classes. Only a few eyes bothered to see who Spaz was talking to.

“Dude, I’ve been looking for you all morning. I thought maybe you decided to call it quits and drop out of this hole. Hey, ladies,” Spaz said, tossing a wink at a couple of girls walking beside us. They giggled at him and whispered to each other in response.
Freshman.

I shook my head at him and pointed to the table along the side wall of the cafeteria. His blond hair was a spiked mess, like he’d spent a few extra minutes primping in front of his bedroom mirror, perfecting the I-don’t-give-a-crap look to match his voice. I’d never call him out on it because I understood. Most people wanted to start a new school year with a good impression. It made me glad to have short hair so I
truthfully
didn’t have to give a crap.

“So, spill. Did your street bike not start this morning or something? You could have called me for a ride,” he prompted after we dropped our books at the table and stepped up to the lunch line.

“I had that appointment to get the jaw wire pulled today. I told you last week,” I answered, dropping a few single-serve puddings on my lunch tray with a bottle of water. “They gave me some bands to keep it braced when I’m not eating. They said it looks good though, and they’re pretty sure the arch bar can come off next week.”

“Another week? Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have been that close to you on the turn. I can’t trust my bike to stay together anymore. Stupid piece of crap. How’s your bike? Did you replace the front brake lever yet?” He grabbed a sandwich and chips that I stared at enviously while we paid the cashier.

“Yeah. It’s fine now. After I fixed it yesterday, I went for a ride. I couldn’t wait anymore. Pop got a little bent that I didn’t listen to the doctors, but I figured the full six weeks was a long enough wait.” When we got back to the table, I took a seat and grimaced at the three pudding flavors I’d get to enjoy for lunch.

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Great, actually. How about your bike? Did you fix the chain?” His bike chain had broken while we were riding, which caused the accident that broke my jaw. He was right to call his bike a piece of crap, but he was also gifted with an abnormal amount of bad luck. Something always ended up happening around Spaz.

“Yeah, thanks again for ordering it for me. My mom would’ve cut my nuts off if she knew what happened.”

“No problem. But that reminds me,” I said, thinking about his last trip to the property. “Simone said that you are never to park your truck in the main lot again. I guess the deer rack frightened a client. You’ll have to pull around my house from now on or
she’ll
probably cut
my
nuts off.”

“Who’s going to cut your nuts off?” Izzy asked, sliding her food tray on the table and scooting her chair closer to Spaz.

“Not you, babe,” Spaz replied and gave her a quick kiss between bites of his sandwich.

“Hey, Iz,” I said to her with a quick nod.

“Hey.” She nodded back at me then looked at Spaz with her neat eyebrows raised. She obviously wanted to give a good impression for school today, too. She normally skipped the makeup and girly stuff, but today her eyelashes were longer, her brown hair was shinier, and her lips were glossier. “I’ll cut your nuts off if I see you winking at any freshman again, Spaz.” Izzy’s squeaky voice wasn’t the least bit threatening, but Spaz acknowledged the message by groveling a little anyway, kissing her neck and whispering in her ear.

They’d been together almost the full year that Izzy had lived here. We’d met her last summer when we took a day trip west of Quarryville to ride a competition-sized motocross track. Spaz instantly fell for the tiny chic that was catching big air and throwing tricks. She was petite, but she was fearless. Now we all rode together whenever possible, mostly park trails and the tiny hills behind the barn.

“Did they take your wires off, Benj?” Iz asked.

“The wires, yes. Hopefully, the bars come off next week,” I said, then slid a spoonful of pudding into the small gap between my teeth.

She nodded and swept her overgrown bangs across her forehead. “Any idea when you’ll start plowing better turns behind the barn?”

I looked around the cafeteria, scanning all of the people for the first time, searching for the person that could affect my plans to create a dirt bike’s wet dream in my back yard. “I’m not sure about that yet,” I replied as my eyes narrowed on the popular table.

The normal bunch was there: a few of my former football friends, some queen cheerleaders, and some rich kids who called most of the shots. Then there was Emily, talking among them, as desperate as ever to belong. Her red hair was straight-ironed, falling like strands of silk over a gray jacket unnecessary for today’s temps. She was also wearing the same black skirt that I’d hiked up to her waist back in June.

Spaz tracked my view. “Why do you even bother with that? I know the history, but …” He lifted one corner of his mouth and waved a hand in Emily’s direction, stating the obvious without saying the words.

“You know the deal. We’re not attached,” I replied, still inspecting the table for the person whom I’d have to work with later. But there were only familiar faces there. No one new sat among the egotists.

Spaz finished his sandwich and stared at me. “It’s been like four months since you’ve hooked up with someone besides the wannabe queen over there. Don’t you think you might be getting a little attached?”

I shook my head. “Not a chance. She knows it’s not like that, that’s why she’s over there. And as far as hooking up goes, have you seen my mouth? Do you really think any chicks want to hook up with this?” I asked, pointing the spoon at my mouth. I wasn’t pissed by his implications, but it was annoying. He knew my history with Emily well enough. He and I had become friends shortly after I’d left that group of inflated assholes. After Harper died.

He shook his head and did a horrible job at suppressing a smirk. “True. After being closed up that long, you better rinse that nasty hole out with some extra-strength mouth wash. Or maybe some grain alcohol.”

“I’m seeing the dentist next week,” I mumbled irritably. I was ready for the end of the jaw jokes.

Izzy laughed lightly, not fully amused by the guy talk, yet tolerating it, like always. She didn’t have any girlfriends, and she was okay with that. She said it was to avoid excessive drama, but she received a fair share from dating Spaz anyway.

“So what’s the hold up with the track?” she asked, changing the subject again, which I was grateful for.

I didn’t want to talk about Emily. We hadn’t hooked up since I broke my jaw, and now, with the start of school, I figured our secret sex sessions were nearing an end. It was bound to happen soon enough. Our only real connection was the fact that we both missed Harper. The emptiness she left behind pulled Em and I together, but that pull wasn’t enough. We were never a good match.

“You remember me telling you about that girl who Janine left the property to? LJ?” I asked, though my eyes kept searching the lunch room. “She’s here.”

“Where?” Iz asked, immediately turning in her chair for a better view.

“I’m not sure. I thought she’d start the first day since she’s already moved into Janine’s house, but I don’t see her over at the prep tables.”

“When did they move in? Have you seen her? Is she still smoking hot like you said she was at Janine’s will thing?” Spaz asked, then ducked a quick jab Iz threw at his head.

I laughed when Iz landed her next playful punch to his shoulder. “They got in on Saturday. I’m still not happy about it, regardless of how hot she is. We don’t have a clue what they’re going to do to the property.” I returned my eyes to the crowded lunchroom.

As far as I could tell, the school kept their policy of grade-segregated lunch periods. They didn’t want seniors influencing freshman, or hazing them. So, she should be here, unless going to a new school actually intimidated her. That was unlikely, though; her confidence practically slapped me in the face both times I’d seen her.

“You
did
see her!” Spaz scrunched his crooked nose and smiled his best sleazy smile. “I’ve seen that look before. That’s your
oh-man-this-chick-is-hot
look. You can’t hide it from me, dude. I know you too well. She’s fine, I know it.”

I chucked one of my empty pudding containers at him. There was no way my face was giving anything away. Sure, she was cute, but my anger about the situation definitely overshadowed any thoughts of getting laid in this case. I didn’t even respond. He knew he was full of it.

“Don’t worry about it, Benj,” Iz said. Her blue eyes were clouded, sympathetic to the actual discussion. Not the discussion Spaz wanted to have. “I’m sure once she stays for a while she’ll fall in love with the place, just like the rest of us.” Her shoulder dipped toward Spaz, triggering his arm to lift over her so she could tuck herself against his body.

“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed without conviction. It could happen. I wasn’t exactly sure I’d want it to, though. What I wanted was for her to like it enough not to fire anyone, and then sell to Simone the minute she took it over. That would be ideal. Her falling in love with the place could lead to more scenarios that I didn’t even want to consider. My head was already full of bad possibilities involving one other aspect.

Iz and Spaz knew what had happened to Janine, and they thought, like most people, that she’d gotten the nickname Genie because she was good luck. Her good luck was one of the reasons so many couples wanted to be married in Stockton Mansion. They had no idea about the supposed connection to a cursed wishing well. No one else did.

Iz and Spaz also knew that I’d spent time going through Janine’s house this summer with Pop, but they just thought we were looking for family paperwork about the will. It was partly true, though Pop was searching for more information about the well, too. That was the information he now expected me to find so I could protect this girl whom I knew nothing about. This was the other aspect, the other mess of possibilities that were jacking with my head. And there was no way I’d tell my friends. It wasn’t worth the headache I’d get trying to explain.