Of the Trees Read online

  “I know you’ve felt it, too,” he continued. “Our pace, how much mileage we cover, it’s so much easier with another person. And my mom would ease up a lot if she thought you were coming with me. She gets on me about that all the time, the dangers of going it alone.”

  She felt hysterical laughter bubble up inside her, and she couldn’t hold it in. “So we make a good hiking team? That’s what you mean?” she asked through a laugh.

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “It’s safer to do it in pairs and I’d rather you than some guy I’ve never met before.”

  “And what do you think my mother would say to that?”

  “I thought your mother loved me?”

  “Yeah, she does, for keeping an eye on me in parking lots and always walking me to my door—”

  “Well, I’m a gentleman.”

  “—but maybe not for camping out with for months at a time, sleeping next to every night!”

  “Oh,” Ryan grunted, his voice thoughtful. “But, we’re not … I mean … ”

  “Yeah, well, you’re still a guy.”

  “Which makes me safe!”

  “And, in a mother’s eyes, makes you dangerous.”

  Ryan fell quiet after that, and they both finished their hasty dinners. Ryan offered her a candy bar for dessert. She took it, chewing slowly as she followed the beam of the flashlight he produced off the trail and toward the road. He called his mom, and they waited in the dark, uncharacteristically quiet for after a hike.

  Mrs. Buckner arrived quickly, driving the pair four miles back to Ryan’s car. Her questions were expected; they were her usual.

  How was the hike?

  Did you see any bears?

  What about weirdos?

  Ryan and Cassie took it in turn to answer, grinning over at each other between rounds. Cassie jumped out when she pulled alongside Ryan’s car, thanking Mrs. Buckner for the ride.

  “She’s gonna flip when you do finally go,” Cassie remarked, waving to Ryan’s mother as she pulled onto the main road. He laughed.

  “Not if you come along,” he teased.

  “No, that’ll be my mom flipping out then.” She pulled open the passenger side door, throwing her pack on Ryan’s back seat. She looked over the car when she heard Ryan’s muffled swear. “What?”

  “A branch or something must have fallen, hit the car,” he said, frowning. He gestured at the side of his car. “There’s a freaking scratch the size of my leg over here.”

  Cassie walked around the car, noticing immediately the three-foot gouge in the side of the car. It was pale white, shining like the underbelly of a fish, on the deep maroon of the car’s painted side. She pulled up her phone’s flashlight, aiming the light at the mark.

  “A branch, you think?” she said, fingering the indentation. “Must have been huge. Which one?”

  Cassie stepped around him, looking to the leaf-strewn ground. Her light cast a round circle, overlapping with Ryan’s, as the two of them looked around. There were branches, smaller ones, but nothing Cassie thought could have caused the damage on Ryan’s car. She turned back to find him scowling.

  “Well, it sucks to think that someone was out here just screwing with other people’s stuff,” he muttered, obviously not seeing anything around his car that could have caused the damage either. “I guess I’m lucky the car’s such a piece of crap anyway.”

  Cassie offered a wry grin and shrugged. The wind kicked up for the first time that evening, and she shivered, shoving her hands into the warm fleece-lined pockets of her jacket. He nodded for her to get in the car and she hurried around to the passenger side. Ryan slid behind the wheel and pulled his door shut. A thrill coursed up her spine as his door slammed closed, leaving her alone and isolated in the dark outside the car. The wind swirled fast past her and in the sudden rush, something low yet almost musical sang past her ears. A gentle, whispered laugh. She brought her shoulders up, hunching into her jacket, feeling eyes on her back as she yanked the car door open and leaped inside.

  “You okay?”

  Cassie blinked, looking over at Ryan. She had been scanning the edge of the forest across the road. The shadows seemed alive, shifting and moving between the trees. Cassie knew that was merely an illusion, that there really wasn’t a group watching her from the woods. The laugh she imagined was probably just the wind. Still, she felt spooked. Her nightmare and the carnies were swimming through her mind.

  “I’m fine,” she answered, forcing a smile. “Good to go?”

  He nodded, twisted the key in the ignition and was rewarded with the rhythmic turning of the engine.

  Ryan drove her home, flipping through the radio stations. She tried to catch his eye when he looked her way, but he avoided it, his gaze darting between the radio knob and the road. It wasn’t until he put the car in park, throwing his door open to walk her to her house, that he spoke again.

  “Hey, wait up a second,” he murmured, reaching out for her sleeve and tugging her to a stop. She turned to him, her boots squeaking in the damp grass of her front lawn, her eyebrows raised. He let go of her sleeve, his hands fidgeting nervously in front of him. Then he looked up, caught her eye and stared. She felt the smile melt from her face as she was pulled into that gaze. “Do you think I’m dangerous?”

  Ryan spoke in a whisper, his hand floating up as he did. His fingertips, cool to the touch, were whisper soft as they danced along the line of her neck. Her skin tingled in the wake of his touch, her lips parting. It took her a small moment to figure out what he meant, to realize he was referencing her mother, realize he was asking if Cassie saw him that way, saw him the way she hoped he’d see her. She nodded.

  In the time it took him to lean toward her, Cassie noted how the stars had finally come out for the night, how the birds were no longer singing and the only noise was the leaves that skittered in the wind through the hush of the street. Ryan was lit by the orange glow coming through the bay window at the front of her house. It softened his features, deepened his brown eyes to nearly black. She felt his breath, warm on her mouth, and couldn’t help the hitch in her breathing when he finally pressed his lips to hers. She had just enough time to move against him, just enough time to kiss him back before he pulled away with a soft smile, turned, and walked to his car, whistling lowly.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ryan called out just before his door slammed shut.

  “See you,” Cassie answered weakly, realizing even as she said it that he couldn’t have heard her. She stepped back and darted to her front door.

  The house was warm, beating against her reddened cheeks, making her feel hotter than she should. Cassie shrugged out of her jacket and toed off her boots, her chilly hands coming to face and pressing, trying to keep the heat at bay.

  “Hello, darling,” her mother called from the living room. Cassie’s head shot up. Her mother was sitting on the couch, a mug of cooling tea on the table beside her. The glow of the lamp next to her lit up the whole room. Cassie gritted her teeth.

  “Did I just witness the first kiss?” Cathy Harris asked, her eyes sparkling. Cassie’s stomach dropped.

  “Mom!”

  “I did!” Cathy exclaimed, looking delighted. “Tell Ryan that next time, it’s appropriate to walk a lady all the way to her door before trying anything.”

  Cassie groaned and headed for the stairs.

  “It would be more private that way, too,” she continued.

  “Please, stop talking!” Cassie called out, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time.

  “Not that I mind the show!” her mother continued, shouting now. “Did he at least buy you dinner first?”

  Cassie slammed her bedroom door, ignoring the laughter she could hear from below. She felt warm all over. She stripped out of her clothes, pulling on the first thing her fingers touched when she opened her drawer—cotton sleep shorts and an old tee shirt. She moved to her window and flung it open, sucking in lungfuls of the cool air.r />
  He kissed her. She kissed him.

  And neither said a word about it! She slammed her fist into her window sill and then spun around, picking her jeans up off her floor and rummaging around in the pockets until her fingers wrapped around her phone. She pulled up Laney’s number and hit send. She heard the phone ring, both through the receiver and more faintly, like an afterthought. She crossed to the window, peering out into the night toward her best friend’s house.

  “Laney!” she hissed. The phone rang, a loud clanging on her end, then softly out in the night. It went to voicemail. Cassie ended the call but continued to watch Laney’s backyard. “I need to talk to you!”

  No answer. Nothing but a soft breath that could have been the wind. Cassie sighed. She scanned the darkened expanse of the Blake’s backyard. The old swing set stood in the corner, the wood cracked and splintered. Cassie and Laney used to spend hours on that old thing. They’d tromp about in the woods, sneaking past the shed and to the graveyard back before they knew the stories. Cassie focused on the old shed now. From her bedroom window, she could just see the back of it, just make out the shape pressed against the old wood siding.

  It was moving.

  No, they were moving. In the sheen of the moonlight, dim against the backdrop of black woods and night sky, Cassie could just see them. Laney—it was irrefutably her, Cassie knew her best friend’s outline even better than her own—was flat against the woodshed, a tall shadow looming over her. The boy pulled away, moonlight flashing off his teeth as he smiled, and then they melded together again, his face pressed to hers, her head tilting in accommodation, kissing and then laughing softly when they broke apart.

  Cassie backed away from the window, her mouth hanging open.

  Laney had never said anything. She was seeing someone. Someone she knew well enough to sneak off into the woods with alone. Cassie knew nothing about it.

  A shard-like ice passed through her chest.

  The man from the carnival.

  But no, Cassie reasoned to herself, it couldn’t be him. They were gone. Packed up. No, this was someone else.

  Her hand hung limp by her side, the phone still curled in her fingers. She brought up Laney’s number and sent a text.

  Cassie: Sorry about before, call me when you can

  She listened for the soft chime after she hit send. It sounded, low in the night, but Laney never texted back.

  Cassie slept fitfully that night, plagued by nightmares, uneasy. She woke sometime before dawn and had the overwhelming urge to look out into Laney’s backyard, look for dark shapes pressed together behind the wood shed. She saw nothing. The black stillness of the night mocked her, left her looking too hard for things that would not move. She woke tired, carelessly getting ready for school.

  She was still pulling on her shoes when a knock sounded at the front door.

  “I got it,” she called to her father. Patrick sat back down at the kitchen table and pulled his half-finished oatmeal back in front of him. The cold morning air rushed through the door when Cassie whipped it open, bringing in a scattering of dead leaves. Laney stood on the front step, a coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.

  “I’m sorry,” she said before Cassie could speak. She extended the hand holding the paper bag. It swung toward Cassie and Laney’s eyebrows rose. “You look like shit.”

  Cassie shot her a look, and Laney stepped inside. “Go change. I’ll wait.”

  “Laney,” Cassie started, her teeth gritting. Laney sighed, shaking the bag she brought in Cassie’s face.

  “I was being insensitive. I get it. I really am sorry. I bought you a bagel and coffee.”

  “Onion?” Cassie asked tentatively through a frown, sniffing at the bag.

  “Yup,” Laney confirmed. “And I’ve got gum in the car for after so you don’t stink for the rest of the morning. C’mon, change into a sweater, at least. I’m driving to school this morning.”

  Cassie started to object, but then closed her mouth. She turned for the stairs, shaking her head. Her father and Laney said good morning to each other, and the front door opened and shut a moment later. She stripped off the sweatshirt she had thrown on, rummaging in her closet for a decent shirt instead. It only took her a moment to look halfway presentable, and she got back to the hall to find Laney sipping at the coffee she brought. She nodded in approval as she handed it and the bag over to Cassie before pulling the door open.

  “Your dad said he’d see you at school,” Laney said. Her mom’s Toyota sat in Cassie’s driveway. “Mom’s working from home this morning. She let me borrow it for the day. I have student council after school anyway. If you want to hang out and wait for me, I’ll drive you home, too.”

  Laney got into the driver’s seat. Her own coffee was waiting in the cup holder. Cassie slid into her seat, taking a sip of her drink. It warmed her throat, and Cassie felt more alert. The sky was overcast and dark, even though dawn had broken an hour earlier. The forecast promised rain, and it was cold. She and Ryan would probably skip the hiking today. A thrill coursed through her at the thought of seeing Ryan again. She had no idea how she was going to act. She felt giddy, and she pressed her lips tightly together to cover her grin. “Maybe,” she answered Laney, “I’ll see if I can find something to do during your meeting.”

  There was usually something going on, people hanging around, practices to watch. Maybe she and Ryan could watch Jon run laps in the rain. Or maybe they could sneak off, find a quiet place together, maybe talk about what the hell happened last night when he dropped her off.

  Laney started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. Her fingers gripped the wheel tightly, flexing over the leather grip that her mother strapped around the steering wheel. “So, we’re good, right?”

  “Yeah,” Cassie answered, “Of course we are. I’m sorry, too. Lieutenant Watson was kind of a friend of my dad’s, so … ”

  “I know,” Laney murmured. “I mean, I knew that. I should have been nicer about it.”

  “It’s okay,” Cassie said. She opened the paper bag, pulling a wrapped bagel out and handing it to Laney. She accepted with a smile.

  “All right,” Laney said, unwrapping her breakfast. “So, we’re good. Which is awesome because I have something to tell you.”

  “Who is he?” Cassie asked, watching Laney’s eyes widen as her hand spasmed around her bagel.

  “You know?” she hissed. “How could you possibly?”

  “Did you really not hear me last night?” Cassie asked, incredulous. “I called for you. I could hear your phone ringing. You must have heard me.”

  “I didn’t,” Laney said, shaking her head slowly. “When? When you texted? I didn’t even hear that. I just saw it after … After—”

  “After you were done making out?” Cassie quipped. She watched as the blood flooded her friend’s face. “I could see you behind the shed.”

  “You could see us?”

  “So who is he?” Cassie pressed, suddenly nervous. She remembered the carnie, the soft-spoken one who kept staring at Laney. She could picture him in her mind, see his face just the way it was, lined but youthful. She felt suddenly uncomfortable, and she took a large gulp of coffee, scalding her tongue.

  “His name is Corey,” Laney said, her eyes glued firmly to the road. She took a small bite of her breakfast, chewing slowly and swallowing. Cassie did the same, waiting her out. “He goes to St. Paul’s. Same year as us.”

  Cassie exhaled slowly. It wasn’t the carnie.

  Of course it wasn’t. It couldn’t be anyway. Still, the confirmation left her feeling relieved.

  “Where’d you meet?” Cassie asked. Laney blushed again, taking her focus off the road for a fraction of a second and peeking over at her friend.

  “You’re gonna laugh at me,” she admitted. Cassie shook her head, denying it. “Oh, fine! At the cemetery.”

  Cassie choked back a laugh, but only just. “Gray Lady?” she asked ins
tead, hastily taking a bite of her bagel. Laney nodded. “When? Yesterday? But you’re already what, going out?”

  Laney shrugged, her head tilting in that nervous way she had when she was uncomfortable admitting something. “It was earlier in the week. It’s new,” she said. “Okay, fine, really new. We talked for hours when we first met, and then again yesterday afternoon and something just … we clicked. I really like him. He likes me, too. We’re going to go to homecoming together, and he’ll probably come with us afterward, to the cemetery, I mean. He’s into all of that too, ghosts and things.”

  “Okay,” Cassie said, a little overwhelmed by her friend’s rambling. “And you’re happy? This is good?”

  Something shifted in Laney’s face, something sacred. She was glowing suddenly, fiercely alert and radiating happiness. “This is good,” she whispered, her tone reverent. “Very good.”

  Cassie nodded, sipping her coffee again, carefully to avoid being burned before she replied. “Then, I’m happy for you.”

  Laney beamed.

  They drove in silence, each finishing their breakfast. Cassie considered telling Laney about yesterday with Ryan, but she balked. She didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t even really know what it meant. It felt silly, obsessing over one innocent kiss when Laney was so involved last night that she couldn’t even hear her phone ring. She’d see Ryan first, gauge his reaction, and then figure out what she would tell Laney.

  They pulled into the parking lot to find a crowd gathered around the outside of the building. Cassie craned her neck to see what they were staring at, but couldn’t see a thing. A couple stragglers wandered in front of Laney’s car, and she honked the horn, gesturing for them to move. One of the guys made a rude gesture with his middle finger that left Laney cursing through the windshield. They pulled into one of the available spaces and grabbed their bags, Laney tossing a pack of gum at Cassie before she pulled her door shut. Cassie popped one of the minty pieces in her mouth and followed Laney across the parking lot.