Outside (11 page)

I guess Holly already knew they were coming.

She steps out of the way and Adam walks in, followed by Drew.

His eyes land on me and I step back, taking short, shallow breaths.

“Here’s your keys,” Drew says to Holly, standing unnecessarily close.

Beth walks into the hallway, drying her hands on a dishtowel. My eyes dart from her to Holly and Drew, still in dangerous proximity.

Beth is going to have a fit, I know it. Mother would have already snatched me back by the hair if she caught me standing that close to a boy. And
worse
if she caught me touching him the way they were in the pool last night.

Beth
smiles
. “Hi, guys! Food’s ready when you are. I thought we could eat on the deck since it’s such a nice night.”

My eyes widen. Not only is she
not
angry, she’s
smiling
!

Drew loops his arm around Holly’s shoulder and they follow Beth, leaving Adam and I alone in the hallway.

“How’d your visit with your mom go?” He keeps his distance, standing near Beth’s office door, giving me plenty of breathing room.

I mentioned it to him earlier when we were exchanging messages.

Shrugging, I say, “Okay.” My eyes dart to the floor.

He laughs. “Liar.”

Startled, I look up at him, ready to defend myself. But he’s right. It’s a lie.

“Tell me about it later, okay?” He nods at the doorway that leads to the rest of the house.

Bowing my head, I say a silent prayer while Beth starts dishing out food to everyone. I glance at Adam when I’m done. He’s sitting across from me at the wooden table, pouring tea from the glass pitcher into his cup. I don’t mean to stare, but he’s so attractive it’s hard not to. He winks at me when he looks up and I look away quickly, my cheeks burning.

Enchiladas are my new favorite. And so is eating outside. We never ate outside in Shiloh.

“Is everyone excited about going back to school?” Beth glances around the table.

“Not really,” Adam says. “I’ll be glad when I’m done, though.”

Beth smiles as she cuts into her enchilada. “That’s right. You’re both seniors this year. Any plans for college?”

Holly groans. “No one wants to talk about school, Mom. It’s depressing.”

“Why is it depressing?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“School blows,” Holly says with a shrug. “You’re trapped there all day, listening to teachers go on and on about stuff you don’t care about and will probably never use after you graduate.”

Adam looks up at me. “What was your school like?”

I glance down the table at Beth, Holly, and Drew. “Well, in the morning we had Missionary School where we would learn about, you know, people like you and how to convert you. And then after lunch the boys would study math and help with men’s work. The girls would do women’s studies.”

“What are women’s studies?” Holly asks, lifting her glass to her mouth.

“Cooking, cleaning, sewing…” I trail off. “Pretty much anything mentioned in Proverbs about virtuous women. I was never very good at any of it.” I leave out the part where I used to sneak away and listen in on the boys’ math lessons. It was more interesting to me than knitting or making soap.

“You never learned science or history?” Drew squints at me.

I shake my head and Holly mutters, “Lucky,” as she drags her fork across the cheese on top of her enchilada.

Beth raises her eyebrows. “Well, then. I guess we’d better start getting you caught up.”

Adam and Drew leave shortly after dinner, but not before Adam makes me promise I’ll tell him about my visit with Mother tomorrow when I deliver the paper.

As soon as they leave, Beth calls me into her office.

“I don’t suppose you know what a placement test is,” she says, moving around her large wooden desk and taking a seat in front of the foldable computer. I think it’s called a laptop.

Shaking my head, I lower myself into the chair across from her desk and eye the statue of a fat, happy man on the corner of her desk.

“I’ll print out some questions and you can answer the ones you know. Then we can see where we need to begin to make sure you’re ready to start school in August.”

It takes me ten minutes to get through the questions. Mostly because I don’t know the answers to the history and science questions. The math and reading comprehension is easy enough.

“Wow,” Beth says, going over my answers. “For someone who wasn’t allowed to learn math, you sure have the basics down.”

I lower my eyes and clasp my hands in front of me. “I used to listen in on the lessons when I was supposed to be doing chores.” When I peek up at Beth, she’s fighting a smile.

“Are you opposed to watching some educational documentaries, you know, to help you catch up on your history and science?” She stacks my partially completed test papers in a neat pile.

“Documentaries?” I have no idea what that is.

She nods. “Movies and TV shows that teach things.”

My eyes widen. “On a television?”

Beth smiles. “Yes.”

Televisions are dangerous. We learned all about them in Shiloh. They’re used to control people and spread wicked influences. People devote hours per day to the television, even going so far as to obsess and worship things they see on it. Elder Hanson said most people on the outside are addicted to it, though I’ve yet to meet anyone who is.

“I don’t know,” I say slowly.

Sensing my reluctance she asks, “What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t want to get addicted.”

She nods. “Okay. Would you rather read about these things? I can get you some books if you’d be more comfortable.”

Books are no safer, but I know from experience that it’s possible to stop reading at any time.

Nodding, I say, “Books would be better.”

CHAPTER TEN

ALAINA

I’m nervous as I approach Adam’s door. Tucking his newspaper under my arm, I raise my hand to knock and it occurs to me that I have no real reason to be here anymore. The paper route was only meant to serve as a means to observe for Shiloh and earn money for clothes. I’m not observing for Shiloh because there is no Shiloh and I’m sure there are other ways to earn money that don’t require mingling with sinners.

The truth hits me like a bucket of ice water: I’m here for selfish, impure reasons. I’m here because I’m attracted to Adam.

This is wrong. I should leave, but part of me, the part that enjoyed wearing pants and has been craving Sour Patch Kids since yesterday wants to stay.

I knock.

When the door swings open a man with a beard stands there. He’s dressed like an Elder, wearing a nice shirt and pants with a tie.

He looks me over and says, “We appreciate your time, but we have our own religion here.”

“Okay,” I say slowly.

He starts to shut the door and I realize he thinks I’m a missionary.

“I’m here for Adam,” I blurt.

“Adam?”

I double-check the sphere-shaped bushes on either side of the door. I have the right house.

The man turns toward the hallway that I know is on the other side of the door and calls, “Adam!”

Moments later Adam appears. He’s taller than the bearded man by a few inches, but the resemblance is unmistakable. This must be his father.

Adam smiles. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

I frown. “Was I supposed to be here at a certain time?”

He shrugs and gestures for me to come inside. “This is my dad,” he says, closing the door behind me.

“Graham Grayson,” the man says, extending his hand to me.

I shift my half-full bag of newspapers out of the way, careful to avoid eye contact as I shake his hand. “Alaina,” I mumble.

“Sorry about the misunderstanding. I thought you were peddling religion.” He laughs and I look up.

“Not today,” I say, smiling slightly.

Graham checks his shiny silver watch and turns to Adam. “I’ll be back around four. Are you coming with Christine and me tonight?”

Adam shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

He sighs. “Suit yourself.” Turning to me he says, “Nice meeting you, Alaina.”

Graham’s shoes echo against the glossy wooden floor as he walks away.

Adam reaches out and takes my bag from my shoulder. “Come on. Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure,” I say.

He drops my bag beside the front door and leads me to the kitchen. Adam’s house is different in the daytime without a bunch of people screaming and splashing in the backyard. The quiet is nearly deafening.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, leaning against the familiar counter in the center of the kitchen.

“Dad’s going to the office. Some big case just rolled in. And Christine’s, uh…” He trails off, walking toward the refrigerator. “Doing whatever Christine does.”

“Who’s Christine?”

“My dad’s wife,” he says. There’s a sharpness in his tone that makes me drop the subject.

Glancing around the enormous kitchen, I say, “Just the three of you in this giant house?”

He shrugs and opens the refrigerator door. “Coke, Sprite, water, or sweet tea?” He turns to me, waiting for my answer.

I hesitate. My mouth remembers the fizzy sweetness of the Coke from the other night, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. “Coke, please,” I say, giving in to my watering mouth and the persistent urge to taste it again. I’ll just have one can this time. That should prevent getting another stomachache.

Adam takes two cans out and closes the door, motioning for me to follow him again.

My eyes scan the countertops as I leave the kitchen, searching for any remaining bags of candy. I have to figure out how to get some more on my own later.

We take seats in the living room where Holly and her friends drank and smoked the other night. I choose a spot on the couch that’s far enough away from him that I won’t be violating any proximity rules.

“Okay, so tell me about your visit with your mom.” He opens a Coke and leans over, handing it to me.

I take it, careful to avoid touching him at all. “Well, she told me that Shiloh, where I’m from, is closed down. She also told me that I need to be careful of people like you and Beth and Holly. That you’re only kind so you can lead me away from the Lord.”

He raises his eyebrows, smirking. “She’s on to us.”

My mouth hangs open. “It’s true?”

Adam laughs, shaking his head. “Of course not! There is such a thing as good people in the world. And judging by the way your people did you, there aren’t many good people in your cult.”

Frowning, I set my Coke on the low table in front of us. “How do you know about what my people did to me?” Someone told! Holly maybe, or Serena. Not Jacki. She doesn’t seem like the type to tell someone else’s secrets.

“It’s been all over the news for weeks,” he says. “A girl, beaten and left to starve in a shed in a cult called Shiloh? Then you come to live with your aunt while all the rest of the cult kids were allowed to stay with their parents? It wasn’t hard to figure out it was you.”

I stare at my hands and wait for him to ask what I did to deserve the beating I got. Instead he leans forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you want to know what I did?” I look up at him.

He shrugs, opening his can. “Don’t matter, really. Unless you want to tell me.”

Shaking my head, I look away again. “I don’t.”

“So what else did your mom say?”

I reach for my Coke. “Nothing really. We prayed. You know, we’re not supposed to speak unnecessarily.”

He scrunches his nose. “I bet it was a long, awkward, boring visit.” He smirks and says, in a high-pitched voice, “Alaina! I haven’t seen you in a month. Let’s sit here and stare at each other in silence, like old times.”

I giggle, even though I shouldn’t. He’s mocking Mother. Still, it
is
silly to think that we spent nearly an hour saying absolutely nothing. Especially after getting used to the way Beth and Holly interact.

Adam reaches for a black object that looks like the phone we had in Shiloh, but there is no cord and there are too many buttons. He points it at the television and before I can protest, the screen springs to life.

Looking away quickly, I pretend to be interested in my Coke can.

“What’s the matter?”

Shaking my head, I take a long drink. My nose burns with the fizz and my eyes water as I focus on the red fabric covering the couch cushion between us.

“TV bother you?”

Peeking up at him, I nod slightly.

As quickly as he turned it on, the TV is off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.”

He cocks his head. “Why, though? Why does it bother you?”