Flicker (7 page)

"One kind of weird thing happened,
but… I don't know."
Why did I even bring
that up?
Dad's pretty cool about not insisting I see a
doctor, but I may not be able to hold them off much
longer.

He leans his head back, in no hurry. I think
they teach that in advanced parenting classes, the ones I'm
convinced my parents snuck off to when they said they were playing
mah jongg. I can't stand for there to be silence between us. And
he, of course, knows this.

I sigh dramatically and flop onto the couch
next to him. "One of the ambulance drivers kinda weirded me out."
Rick's intense gaze flashed through my mind.

Dad visibly tenses.

"Nothing like that. I tripped when we
were going into the hospital and he went on and on about how he's
into neurology."
Shut up, Biz.
"I think he was just trying to impress me."
Or find a pet project.

"So he didn't do anything inappropriate? He
just talked about… your headaches?"

"Pretty much." Maybe it's best I don't tell
him that Rick drove me home and basically scared the bejeebers out
of me.

His heavy sigh makes me turn to face
him.

The sutures peek out from the couch cushion
and my stomach clenches. Suddenly he seems very fragile. Despite
his illness, Dad's the rock in our family. We revolve around him
and, in turn, he holds us together. I fear that without him Mom and
I would flounder, aimlessly drifting though life in his
absence.

His eyelids flutter. I hope it's just the
drugs. "Will you promise me something?"

"Uh, sure?"

"If there's ever something… more, with your
headaches. Even if it seems like I'd never understand. Will you
tell me?"

All the times I've flickered streak by like
a movie—the tingling, the heaviness, the sudden jerk when I come
to—followed by the memory of the crushing pain afterwards. How
could he ever understand that?

"Of course."

Chapter 10

It's quarter to four. I'm wearing my
favorite sweater, my favorite shoes, and the jeans that make my ass
look as good as it's going to get. Now I just need to figure out
who or what's possessed me and I'll happily get on with my day.

I can't remember the last time I've acted
this way over a boy.

My phone vibrates a couple minutes later.
"I'm here."

Well at least he's early too.

I run upstairs to tell Mom and Dad I'm
leaving and find them curled around each other on the bed, Mom's
hands cradling Dad's head to her chest, his leg is thrown over
hers. I hurry downstairs and leave a note on the kitchen counter
letting them know I'm going out for the night. They know I always
have my phone so they're pretty cool about letting me do my own
thing. As long as I'm home on time, of course.

I step onto the front porch and lock the
door behind me. When I face the street a brilliant light makes me
shield my eyes so I don't see Cameron right away.

He's standing next to his car, seeming
uncertain about whether or not to approach.

"What's up?"

"I was gonna come to the door, but then it
seemed weird so I wasn't sure if I should just wait in the
car."

My chest swells. I've known Cameron for too
long for either of us to try to pretend to be something we're not.
If one of us is nervous, the other one knows. I walk to the
passenger side and open the door.

He catches my eye over the roof and my hands
start to sweat. "I figured we'd meet up with everyone at the boat
ramp later, but is there something you want to do right now?"

Do not say what just came
to mind.
I'm sure I'm blushing, but I hope the
afternoon sun is giving me a healthy glow instead of the mottled
flush that's probably covering my face.

"Biz?" He pauses, his arm resting on the
open door.

I cock my head.

His face droops. "You haven't said a word
since you came outside. Are you sure you want to hang out?"

"Oh god, yes! I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a
little nervous."

He dips his head so his hair falls in his
face and I can't see his eyes. "Okay, good."

We climb in and he backs out of my driveway,
his hand wrapped firmly around the gearshift. It's probably best if
we don't try to hold hands again, but my body aches to feel his
touch.

"So where to?"

I lean my head on the seat. "Anywhere." The
stress from the past day seeps out of me and a feeling of euphoria
settles into my bones. Yes, I get this feeling every time a
migraine goes away, but my proximity to Cameron has set off some
kind of chemical reaction that's making it hard to worry about
anything else.

"How about the zoo? I think it's open for a
couple more hours."

I flinch, remembering that time years ago
with Dad.

The first time I remember Dad having a
seizure I was three years old. The three of us were at the zoo and
halfway through the monkey house when he collapsed. I remember Mom
standing over him, screaming. And the monkeys screaming back at
her. Me—I couldn't tear my eyes away from the way the sunlight
poured through an oblong skylight at the very top of the high
ceiling and blanketed my father's twitching body. His arms flopped
at his side. His legs kicked at nothing. And his eyes… that was the
weirdest part. His eyes rolled around in his head until the color
was gone and all I could see was white.

I never told Cameron about it and he doesn't
notice my reaction. "That's cool." As long as we stay away from the
monkey house.

Cam turns up the stereo and we ride through
town, comfortable enough with each other to not need to ask a
million questions or worry that they would rather be someplace
else.

My eyes drift closed. Without the
distraction of everything around us, I can hear him breathing. A
flood of emotions overwhelm me at the thought of being this close
to another person, even without touching, and I allow myself a
moment to let my heart go crazy and wish for things I don't
deserve.

Twenty minutes later, the car bumps over a
curb and the engine cuts off. "We're here."

I open my eyes and jump. The largest tree
I've ever seen is less than a foot in front of the car, its large
branches shading us from the suns slanting rays. This isn't the
zoo. "Where's here?"

Cameron stretches his arm across the space
between the seats and lightly runs his fingers through my hair. A
purr builds in my throat, but I control myself. He nods at a fence
beyond the tree. "The zoo."

"I've lived here my entire life but I didn't
know you could drive up to the back. Isn't there a big wall or
something that keeps people from climbing the fence?"

"This isn't the edge of a cage. I think it's
an outer perimeter that marks the edge of the property. I come here
sometimes when I'm feeling trapped, like I can't find a way out of
my bullshit life, you know?"

I peer at the wall. "That makes sense.
Seeing creatures that really don't have any way out can make you
feel better."

A sad smile touches his lips. "Exactly."

I pick at the edge of my seat. I can almost
feel Katie sitting here with us. "Do you want to talk about
her?"

He shifts forward so his forearms are
crossed on the steering wheel, then rests his chin on his arms. "I
don't know what to say. Nothing's changed. It's like we're back
four years ago when she first disappeared. Wondering what if…"

Cameron had been the last one to see Katie.
I'll never forget the crack in his voice when he told me. They'd
been playing in the backyard while their mom was doing laundry and
Katie ran around to the front to get her bike. He was so wrapped up
in testing his new bike ramp that he just didn't realize how much
time had passed. That she was still gone. By the time he went to
see what was taking her so long, she'd vanished. Her bike lay at
the end of the driveway, the pink tassels torn loose from the
handlebars.

He called me first, desperate, not knowing
what to do. I rode my bike to his house as fast as I could and got
there minutes before the police arrived. They assumed I’d been
there all along and neither of us corrected them—at least not until
the questions started. The police eventually believed that Cam had
nothing to do with her disappearance, but people have never looked
at him the same.

A blue plastic barrette was found in the
gutter and he still carries it with him as a reminder of that
day.

I touch his arm.

He turns his head so his cheek is resting on
his wrist, and our eyes meet.

"It's not your fault. There's no way—"

"I was supposed to be watching her. I was
thirteen years old for fuck's sake, not some little kid." He sits
upright and slams the heel of his hand into the steering wheel. The
horn blasts and we both jump. "Sorry."

"Do you want to walk around? Get some
air?"

"Sure."

We climb out and walk towards the fence, but
I don't see a way in. He seems to know where he's going but if he's
planning to climb the fence… I glance at my cute,
but-not-very-practical-for-climbing-a-fence, shoes. "I don't know
if I can climb—"

He grabs my hand. "We're not climbing the
fence. There's a gate over here that isn't always locked." I reel
back and he squeezes my hand. "It lets in behind a maintenance
building and goes to the main part where people walk around. No
tigers." He lifts my hand and brushes his lips over my
knuckles.

Who am I kidding? I'd follow him through the
lion's den if he asked.

The gate is unlocked, but very loud. I
cringe as he pries it open. We stop next to the low cinderblock
building. "Are you sure we won't get in trouble?"

A mischievous grin chases away the pain that
was there moments earlier. "Not really." He closes the gate and we
peek around the corner. Families with strollers walk beneath the
shady trees, and an elderly couple sits on a bench near the duck
pond. "Ready?"

I squeeze his hand and he tugs me around the
corner of the building. We swing our joined arms, not a care in the
world, when a shout makes us both turn.

"Hey!"

We look at each other, eyes wide, then break
into a run.

He leads me past a fountain, where I
narrowly avoid slamming into a girl toddling behind a wagon.
"Sorry!" I shout over my shoulder.

Cameron grabs my hand and tugs me off the
path and behind a clump of bushes. We fall to the ground, elbows
and knees colliding, and burst out laughing.

"Do you think he's still after us?" I didn't
look back while we were running but our escape was hardly well
thought out.

He sits up and pulls apart the branches.
"Doesn't look like it."

I swat his arm. "You can't even see."

"True, but if he was looking for us he'd
already be here." He turns to face me. "I think we're safe."

My adrenaline slows, but my senses are still
humming.

Cameron slides closer.

Our eyes meet, and everything else fades
away. The kids screaming for the ducks, the gravel crunching
beneath the strollers—the only thing in my universe is him.

"Come here," he whispers as he lowers his
head towards mine.

My stomach backflips. I tear my eyes away
from his lips to search his eyes, see the same excitement that I
feel. I take an unsteady breath and lean into his kiss.

Any concern I had about ruining our
friendship vanishes as his strong arms wrap around me. His lips are
firmer than I expected, and more insistent. My hands slide up his
back and into the soft hair at the base of his neck.

A small sigh escapes him and his lips part,
his warm tongue gently touching mine.

I move still closer, until I'm tucked
against him, safe from everything around us. No light, no tests,
just the warmth of him and this kiss that I never want to end.

But of course it has to. I pull away first,
not wanting him to be the one to break away.

He smiles. "Wow."

"You can say that again."

He nuzzles my neck, his lips settling
against my ear. "Wow," he murmurs.

I blink in an effort to clear the haze
that's muddled my brain. No one can see us here, but surely someone
saw us duck behind the bushes and god only knows what they think
we're up to. I blush, knowing they'd be right.

"Do you still want to see the animals?"

"Besides you?" I smile up at him, and my
heart nearly thuds out of my chest at the softness in his eyes. How
could I have not seen this—or even thought about this—before?

He laughs, a deep rumble that sends chills
down my spine, and pulls me closer.

Lord help me.

His mouth covers mine and I melt into him.
Our tongues dance lightly, softly, like we have all the time in the
world and this is the most important thing we have to do.

This time he pulls away. He presses his lips
to my temple, the one that always hurts first when I get a
headache, then stands. Taking my hand, he tugs me to him and folds
me into his embrace.

I could get used to this.

"Come on." We walk to the main path, and I
glance at the fence where we entered to make sure no one's watching
for us. They don't seem to be. The elderly couple hasn't moved. A
man sits by himself beneath a shady tree, and different families
surround the fountain. At least I think they're different
families—the strollers and toys and frazzled mothers all kind of
look the same.

Sunlight filters through the trees, casting
long shadows over the path. I'm grateful we're walking. I usually
have to close my eyes at this time of day and it's nice to be able
to actually enjoy the late afternoon sun. Especially the way it
catches the highlights in Cam's dark hair.