Temptation: A Novel (8 page)

20. Poe

Friday night, and I’m thinking of a girl I want to be with but can’t.

I guess this is just what I do.

I don’t want to say that you can insert whatever name you want into that “girl” I’m thinking about, but then again, I’m not so sure.

I do something I don’t usually do when I’m bored. I go online. And that’s when I see it.

An email from Poe.

She told me she’d be in touch, but she also told me not to hold my breath.

She said that right after giving you a kiss on your cheek.

She said that after seeing the tears in my eyes.

Then she said something that I’ve tried to avoid thinking about but can’t.

“Don’t let this place change you, Chris. You’re too good for that.”

I sigh.
Too good for that.
I’m not too good for anything. I shouldn’t have let her go. I should’ve fought. I should’ve been in touch. I should’ve figured out some way to make her stay. Or to at least not end the way it did.

Part of me still finds it ludicrous that the school actually believed that the drugs they found in her locker belonged to her.

I see the email and seriously wonder about opening it.

I wonder if somebody is still reading the emails I get.

Everybody is watching. Everybody.

For a long time I just stare at the unopened message, wondering what it says and how she’s doing. She hasn’t called in the army or the marines or even the National Reserve. No FBI agents have shown up around town. No detectives or SWAT teams or Navy Seals have come to my rescue.

What would they be rescuing me from? Huh? A weirdo pastor?

I delete the email without reading it.

If I can’t read it, that means no one else can either.

“Sorry, Poe.”

I am sorry.

Sorry that I never knew she liked me in the first place. Sorry for what might have been.

Story of your silly, sad life, Chris.

21. Answers?

When are you going to get started?

I’m sleeping and don’t want to be bothered.

People are getting impatient it’s time Chris it’s time.

It’s time for me to sleep.

No. It’s time for answers.

I open my eyes.

I swear … it’s like this voice in my head … it’s like it was right there next to me, whispering in my ear.

“I’m waiting,” I say in a hoarse morning voice.

Waiting on some answers.

But I refuse to go looking for them anymore.

22. A Little Care

There are reminders everywhere, things I just can’t seem to let go of. It’s one thing to try and bury memories or simply walk around ignoring them. It’s another to actually throw away something associated with a memory.

There’s the laptop that Iris gave me. I haven’t used it for fear that she might suddenly pop up on Skype or something. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve seen a lot of crazy around here, so nothing would surprise me.

That picture that I found in my locker—the one of me smiling. It’s completely blurry and useless, like a snapshot someone took of the sun while riding a bike. Yet still I haven’t been able to throw it away.

A painting that I did in art class last semester.

The picture of the woods and the poem underneath it.

All the stuff that belongs to Mom’s brother, Uncle Robert. Other than the records and the T-shirts, everything is going untouched.

Even Midnight reminds me.

The Saturday sun is bright, and I just want to feel as good as I did a couple of weeks ago. I’m not going to let the darkness slip in again.

I’m a senior. Sure, my school and town are from hell, but besides that, I’m staring at my future. Soon I’ll be able to leave this place. This town and this cabin and all the secrets that surround it. I’ll let my mom figure them out. Or not. It’s up to her.

I tried.

I tried and failed.

What more can I do?

It’s eleven in the morning, and Mom is still sleeping when I answer the phone.

“This Chris?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, man, it’s Harris.”

I hadn’t spoken with him much at the end of the week, so getting a call from the guy I barely know is a surprise.

“What’s up?”

“Look—I was going to tell you about the party we were talking about in class, but you took off Friday.”

“Uh—I left after you did,” I correct him. “You were waiting for Lily.”

“Oh, right,” he says in a way that doesn’t sound like he’s lying, but rather in a way that says he hadn’t noticed I was still there. “Well, then, that’s a bit strange.”

“What?”

“Well—Lily was the one who told me to give you a call. That girl … man.”

“What about her?”

“She’s like kinda crazy. In a good way. Mostly good, I guess.”

“She wanted you to call me?”

“Yeah. She was texting me last night. You know she went out with Roger?”

“And she was texting you?”

“Yeah.
While
she was on the date.”

I can’t help but laugh. “So it was that good, huh?”

“Oh, man. That Roger—he’s something else. He shows up high as a kite thinking Lily was into that. He takes her to some party in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of potheads. Brick even showed up. She was texting me the craziest stuff. It was better than paying to see a comedy.”

I’m glad to hear about the date gone bad. But I’m still not sure what it has to do with me.

“Listen—she was asking about the party tonight. Then she asked if I’d invited you, and I told her no, I forgot. She was like totally moody last week. Stuff going on in her personal life.”

“Like what?” I can’t help asking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Probably the parents drama, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, it’s going to be a pre-July Fourth party at Ray Spencer’s house. Probably the last he’ll have for a while.”

“Ray’s place?”

Suddenly the invite doesn’t sound so inviting.

“You know him, right? I remember seeing you guys together.”

“He ran track,” I say.

“That’s right. Yeah, cool. Well, it’s going to be huge. I’m not always invited to Ray’s parties, but with Lily—well, word’s gotten around. Ray wants to meet her. As you can guess.”

“Sure.”

“So anyway, just wanted to let you know. Starts in the evening sometime.”

“Cool.”

“Sweet,” Harris says. “See you there.”

I get off the phone and look outside. I think of the last few weeks of school, where Ray basically ignored me both on the track field and in the school hallways. Not on purpose, at least not that I could tell. It just seemed like he was busy thinking about college and the end of the school year and graduation and all that. I was busy chasing ghosts and nightmares.

I think of Ray meeting Lily. He’ll surely throw himself at her with his charm and good looks.

The party I went to with Jocelyn seems like a long time ago.

You had a chance to be buddies with Ray, but you never really let him in.

Who could blame me? I let my so-called “cousin” in, and that got me nowhere. Now Jared’s a distant memory like so many others that I got to know during the school year.

Mom comes walking out of her bedroom.

“Just in time for lunch,” I tell her.

She looks at me with a wrinkled smile. “You know—I get enough lip at work.”

“Hey—I’m going to a party tonight at Ray Spencer’s house.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll probably be late,” I tell her.

“Okay.”

She’s telling her sixteen-year-old, who’s riding around winding mountain roads on a motorcycle without
a license and going to a party, “Okay.”

I’d appreciate even a mild “Be careful” or “Be safe” or “Don’t drive yourself off a mountain ledge and impale yourself on a sharp branch.”

These are the small things I wish for. Not much. Just a little care.

23. What I’m Doing

I get to the party deliberately late. I don’t want to go in and not see Harris and then feel like a knob for coming uninvited. Not that I picture Ray caring much, but Ray is Ray. He’ll be Mr. Friendly, but his use for me, whatever that was, is clearly gone.

There are cars parked alongside the road winding around to the stone and log monstrosity that is the Spencer house. I’ve been here several times, a few during the end of the track season. But I’ll always remember the first time.

Coming here with Jocelyn.

I park the bike close to the house so some drunk moron doesn’t decide to do something stupid to it. I hear pounding bass coming from inside the mansion. The door is half open. A burst of firecrackers goes off, followed by some pounding booms of M-80s or something like that. I see a few people I don’t know coming out of the house.

You really want to go in there?

Maybe if I could do everything over again, I’d choose to enter Ray Spencer’s world—this world—and never look back.

That’s a lie.

Maybe I’d decide to ignore all the weird stuff, just like I’m doing now.

You’d do everything the same except you’d find a way to save her.

I go inside where I see a party raging and where the music will drown out my thoughts.

Soon enough, Ray finds me.

Somehow he looks more mature. As if getting his high school diploma has suddenly made him older and wiser. I probably still look like the scrawny teen he tried to take under his wing.

“Chris! What. Is. Up?” He puts an arm around me like we’ve been friends forever. “Can’t believe you came out.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“Hey—let me grab you a beer.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, it’s cool. My parents are here. ‘Chaperoning.’ Whatever that means.” Ray laughs. “I heard about the wild party last weekend. You animal.”

Ah, word gets around.

“Yeah, partied a little too hard last week.”

And somehow I don’t even remember it.

“Well—it’s cool. It’s all good. You here solo?”

“Meeting some friends.”

“Okay, cool.”

Then for a second, just a mild second, he seems to look at me in a weird way. Almost with …

Suspicion?

But that doesn’t make sense. I’m not sure why he’d be suspicious of anything with me. Then I see that smile, and he takes off to keep entertaining.

Near the open area next to the large kitchen, I find them. Harris and Roger and—

Whoa.

“He made it,” Harris says. “We thought you were going to ditch us.”

“Uh-oh. Keep the beer away from this one.” Roger laughs at his own joke.

I’m surprised to see Roger standing next to Lily after what Harris had said about the failed date.

I try to act cool, but I don’t know exactly how that works. I don’t say anything to Lily and don’t look at her, but then I hear her say, “And how’s Chris doing tonight?”

As I smile and nod at her, my words suddenly get stuck. It’s pretty easy to see why.

She’s wearing a black skirt—no, I think black shorts, though I’m not really inspecting them so I can’t be sure—but they’re black and they’re short. And black boots that go almost up to her knees.

This is Solitary not Hollywood, come on.

Her black-and-red striped top is quite revealing except for the light sweater she’s wearing over it.

“Hot,” I say out of the blue.

What?

Lily waits for me to follow that up.

I am such a boy.

“I’m kinda hot,” I say.

And yes, I am starting to sweat from being outside and from wearing a long-sleeved shirt for some stupid reason. But that was a slip. The guys don’t react at all, but Lily knows.

She knows she’s hot, and she also thinks it’s kinda cute that I slipped up.

“There are ways to correct that,” she says. “Let me get you something to drink.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I think—last weekend was enough for a while.”

“Well, there are other things you can drink besides beer.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She keeps looking at me and then nods in the direction of the kitchen. “Come with me. We’ll find something.”

She glances at Roger, but he’s oblivious, talking to Harris about something.

She wants to escape. She wants to use me as an escape.

“Sure.”

So I follow her.

Just like the gaze of pretty much every guy in the room.

They’re surely wondering the same thing I’m wondering.

Who is this girl, and what am I doing with her?