The Tension of Opposites (13 page)

“Oh, just do it, Tessa. I can tell you're wearing a tank top under there.” She unzipped the back of the dress. “This'll look great next to the dress I saw at the mall the other day. Total opposites.”

“I can't believe you already know you're using fashion as the theme of your project.” I pulled my long-sleeved shirt over my head and tucked my wavy hair behind my ears.

“Be patient. It'll come to you,” Darcy said as she pulled the hanger from the dress and moved toward me. I held my arms up and bent at the waist so she could wiggle the dress over my head. “So, how would she have handled it? Elle, I mean, in the lunchroom, if Jessie had attacked them both?”

“You really think Jessie would do that?” I pulled the dress down and lifted my hair to the top of my head, turning so Darcy could slide up the zipper.

“Totally. It'll happen one of these days. And Elle had better be ready. Jessie is heartless when it comes to stuff she wants.” Darcy spun me around and put a finger to her chin. “Take off your jeans,” she said with a nod.

“No way!” I laughed and twisted sideways.

“You have this unnatural lumpy thing going on right here.” Darcy poked the top of my jeans, hitting the button with her finger.

I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest, that doily lace scratching at my neck. “Where do you want me?”

Darcy looked at the scenery propped along the back of the stage, walking toward a tall piece of white lattice. “That's perfect,” she said.

“Why's all this stuff out here, anyway?” I asked as I walked toward her.

“Mrs. Irvin said they had to clean out the storage rooms after the last play. Something about mouse poop. Back up a little, will you?”

I did as she asked, placing one hand on my waist to hide my unnatural bulge. Darcy focused her camera and took several shots, then shook her head and walked toward me, snapping a hair elastic off her wrist.

“Put your hair up in a bun. It'll pull the look together.” Darcy circled her hand over her head and waited. “Back in ninth grade, when Jessie was trying out for the cheerleading squad, she terrorized Nikki Rader. Like, daily. Nikki, who was a year older than Jessie, was a sure thing for the JV squad. Until she quit. Jessie got her spot instead.”

“Yeah, but that was back when she was a freshman.” I twisted my hair up on top of my head and wrapped the elastic around the bun. “She's older now—”

“And more spiteful than ever. She's gotten everything she's wanted since that JV position; she expects life to go her way. But Elle came home and turned Jessie's world upside down.”

I pulled a few strands of hair down so they fell on either side of my face.

“That's better,” Darcy said. She turned and took several steps away before pointing the camera at me again. “All I'm saying is that Elle had better figure out how she's going to handle it when Jessie makes her move.”

“Have you seen pictures of that Charlie guy?” I asked.

“The kidnapper?”

I nodded.

“Yeah. His eyes creep me out.”

“Elle dealt with him for two years. Got away.
And
made sure he was arrested.” I took a deep breath. “I'm pretty sure she can handle Jessie Richards.”

“I dunno.” Darcy shrugged. “I hope you're right.”

I posed for several more pictures, twirling around a few times so Darcy could get a motion shot with the dress flying around my legs. It was after we'd finished and Darcy was back at the rack of dresses, hanging the blue one in place between the red and the yellow, that she mentioned Max.

“I heard about Max's ex,” she said, all matter-of-fact.

“Ex?” I asked. Max had an ex? As in, girlfriend? “How?”

“I asked. Duh.” Darcy spun around and sat on the arm of the couch, patting the seat next to her. I collapsed into the dingy cushion.

“Do you know much?” she asked.

I couldn't speak, didn't want to tell her that I knew absolutely nothing, so I just shook my head.

“Okay, here's the deal. They dated for, like, two years. Sounds like they were really different. She was a soccer player, really into the game, and he, well, you know, is the shy, quiet type who likes to take pictures. I guess she was really into him, and when he tried to break it off she freaked out.”

“Freaked out how?” I leaned back. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

“He didn't go into details, but it didn't sound pretty. He said he felt stuck. Especially when her parents decided to get divorced. That's why he didn't break it off until his family moved here over the summer.”

I sat up, my eyes wide, and stared at Darcy. She gave me this oops-I-thought-you-knew look and popped another strawberry bubble. “It's totally not a big deal,” she said.

“He just got out of a two-year relationship?” I stood and started pacing.

“One in which he felt stuck. His word.
Stuck
.”

My brain went into overdrive. Two years meant anniversaries and middle-of-the-night phone conversations. Inside jokes and nicknames. Birthdays wishes. New Year's Eve kisses. And sex.

Oh. My. God.
Sex
.

“Talk to me, Tessa. You look like you're losing it.” Darcy was by my side, her hands reaching for my shoulders.

“I didn't know about any ex. And two years is a long time.”

“He likes you.” Darcy smiled. “A lot.”

I shook my head. “This is such a bad idea, Darcy. Getting all caught up in him. I'm just going to get burned.”

“Why do you do that?” Darcy batted at the side of my head with both hands. “Tell your brain to stop already. Have a little fun. Stop being so flipping guarded all the time.
Live
for a minute. You might actually like it.”

“It's scary,” I said, my voice a whisper.

“Yeah.” Darcy shrugged. “But it's also pretty fun.”

Darcy's butt chimed, and she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She read the text her boyfriend had just sent her and smiled.

“See?” she said, turning her phone my way.
Have a surprise 4 u later. Bring a blanket 2nite. Love.

“I can't believe your mom finally got you one of those things,” I said, pointing to the lava lamp on Elle's nightstand. Blue globules oozed up and down its center, lazily somersaulting around and into one another. The color of the lava matched the wings of the butterfly on Elle's notebook, which was sitting next to the lamp's base, making me sweat with desire to grab it and run. I should have kept the journal that night in the park. Then I would know everything.

“I should write in to
Seventeen
magazine.” Elle tucked her legs under the covers of her bed and leaned back against her pillows. “Tips on how to get everything you've ever wanted from your parents. One: Have an epic battle that ends in stomping, screaming, and sobbing. Two: Get yourself kidnapped. Three: Come home, but only after enough time has passed for maximum guilt to set in.”

“Too bad you only asked for a lava lamp. You might have a new car right now.” I knelt down beside Elle's bed. “It's still here, right?”

Elle nodded. “They didn't change anything.”

I reached under the white eyelet dust ruffle and found the handles to Elle's trundle bed. With one solid tug, my old bed was free. “I wonder how many nights I've slept in this bed.” I walked over to the door and flipped off the overhead light before hopping onto the mattress, stuffing my legs under the covers, and pulling my hair back in a low ponytail.

“No less than a year's worth,” Elle said as she dropped a pillow down to me. I lay back and glanced up to her bed. She was staring down at me, her chin propped on the edge of the bed. She blinked, the shadows from the lava lamp floating across her skin. “Remember the night your grandpa Lou died?” she asked.

I nodded and turned to my side, curling into a ball. “My parents rushed out of town, thinking he'd survive the stroke.”

“They should have taken you.”

“I had this feeling it was almost over,” I said. “I begged them to let me see him, but they brought me here instead. I just wanted to say good-bye.”

Above me, Elle's covers rustled as she situated herself. “You said the same thing after your parents called to tell you he didn't make it. I thought about that all the time while I was gone. That all you wanted was to say good-bye. But it was too late.”

Shadows oozed up the wall, slithering over the framed picture I'd given Elle, which was propped on top of the tall chest of drawers next to her closet. Elle's breathing evened out, slowed.Her legs twitched, a sign she was almost asleep. The clock on her dresser read 12:27.

“You don't know how many times I wanted to call you,” she said, her voice thick with sleep, her words rough as sand. “To say good-bye.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I knew,” I said. “Just like I knew about Grandpa Lou.”

“Good. I'm glad.” Her words fell at the end, a whisper I could hardly detect. Then she was asleep. And I was alone.

The numbers on the clock flipped and fluttered me toward 1:00 a.m. I didn't feel tired. Not even a little heavy. It was that journal—it was calling me, daring me to read it.

The heat kicked on, and the steady whir of air tethered me to the moment. I wanted to turn off the lava lamp. The creeping shadows made it impossible for me to fall asleep. But earlier, Elle had told me that it was her night-light and that it kept away the nightmares. Helped her know where she was when she opened her eyes in the darkness.

I turned to my stomach and stretched out my legs, willing myself to ignore the temptation. Elle shifted on the bed above me. When I looked up, I saw the edge of the spiral notebook. It snickered and taunted. I propped myself on my elbows, checking to see if Elle's legs had stopped twitching, which always indicated she had entered a deep sleep. Nothing. Except for the blue wings, shimmering in the soft light of the lava lamp, urging me to open the front cover. I reached up and ran a fingernail along the spiral. Elle didn't move.

I snatched the notebook from the dresser. My chest tightened, explosive with tension and excitement. I never thought I'd hold it again.

All the questions collided in my brain. The blast sent shock waves down my arms, to the tips of my fingers, and flattened me on the bed. I swiveled so the pages would lie in the faint glow of light that hit the right side of the trundle, telling myself that if I could just understand, I might be able to help.

SHH! QUIET NOW.

It was like some stupid game. Really.

Shrinkenstein says I shouldn't trivialize my experience, but I can't come up with another analogy. Simple directions. Easy to play. It went just like this …

His objective: To stalk, pounce, use, kill. And to make sure I didn't talk. Game Piece = The Hunter.

My objective: To survive. Game Piece = a Speckled-backed fawn.

During the day, I'd watch TV. Talk shows and game shows. Or the Lifetime Movie Network. Those people became like family (gag me, I know, but I didn't have many options). Except for the times my real family made the news. I inhaled every detail, starving for more. My mom's fingers clasping a picture of me, a delicate suture stitching her broken heart. My dad standing beside her, his thick hands gripping her shoulders, holding the rest of her together. His voice cracking as he said that it had been six months, one year, more. As I sat there breathing in the smoky air of Charlie's world, I could hardly believe.

Those days I flipped off the TV and tried to scrub the sour smell

from the refrigerator, sank down into a bathtub filled with scalding water, or walked around the block, hoping someone somewhere would recognize me, every minute fearful that Charlie would get away and make his biggest move of all.

Cooper.

Charlie whispered Cooper's name in my ear when I wasn't a good listener. If I wasn't as fast/hard/slow/gentle as he wanted. The Cooper card was his power play. By using it, he could get me to do anything.

Anything. At. All.

Crazy to think it took only one word. Just two little syllables stitched my mouth shut for all that time. Until I found the stuff in his room. And I had to take a chance.

Then I actually won. The little fawn beat the big bad—

Elle's phone tinkled its little song into the dim light of her room. I slammed the notebook shut and plopped it back in place on her nightstand. Turned my head so it faced the closet door. Closed my eyes. And tried to steady the pounding of my heart.

The phone rang again. Elle stirred. “Are you kidding me?” Elle flipped her phone open and slid it to her ear.

“Hey.” Her voice was groggy. “What's up?”

Pause.

My breathing came out in huffs. I hoped she didn't recognize the sound of my betrayal.

“No way!” I flipped over as Elle sat up, looking at me, her eyes puffy but alert. “Are you crazy? It's like twenty degrees out there.”

Pause. Big smile.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

I shrugged. Elle mouthed,
Oh my God
, fisting her hands into tight balls.

“I still have it. You want me to—Sure. We'll be there in fifteen.”

Elle snapped her phone shut. Her entire face scrunched up in this excited smile.

“Lemme guess,” I said. “That was Chip.”

“Mm-hmm. They're at the park. Sledding! Can you believe it?”

“It did snow a lot today,” I said, trying to prolong what I dreaded was coming next.

Elle flipped the covers off her legs and shot out of bed like she'd taken a bunch of caffeine pills.

“He wants us to meet him out there.”

“Us?”

“Well, me, but you're coming, too.”

“Elle, sneaking out onto the roof and trying to climb down the side of that fence in this weather is just crazy.”

“I'm not stupid.” Elle opened her closet door and stepped inside. Within seconds, hooded sweatshirts, long johns, and slick pants were flying onto the foot of the trundle. “We'll skip the window and go out the back door.”

“Oh, so you don't even bother to sneak out anymore? You just take off.” I almost slapped my hand over my mouth to keep more words from coming out. The whole night with Elle, I'd felt like I had my old best friend back, and the last thing I wanted was to screw it up by putting her on the defensive.

“Pretty much.” Elle twisted her hair into a loose bun, dark frays of blue-black spilling out in a few places. “The worst thing that'd happen is being caught and getting some lecture on sin and forgiveness.”

“What happened? They didn't used to be—”

“Bible freaks? I guess after I went missing they resorted to prayer, and now they believe that God the Great is responsible for bringing me home.” Elle slid her legs into a pair of long johns, then pulled on a pair of slick pants.

“Well, you could totally freak them out.”

Elle rolled her eyes. She walked to the music box on her dresser and flipped open its top. The pixie wearing a pink tutu started twirling as “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” rang through the air. “Are you coming or not?” she asked, tugging the velvet fabric from the side of the box and sticking her fingers into the lining. She pulled out something small, and I caught a flash of white before she plunged the item into the side pocket of her pants, yanking the zipper up to ensure its safety.

“You need some socks?” she asked, walking to her dresser. “It's gonna be freezing out there.”

I shook my head. “I don't like this.”

“Well, do something to make yourself like it.” Elle threw a balled up pair of wool socks onto my blanket. “Why don't you call Max?”

“I can't call Max. It's after one.”

“What are you afraid of?” Elle pulled her socks on and walked to my purse, which was sitting lopsided on her dresser. She yanked out my cell and flipped it open, pressing button after button. “You don't have much of a phone book in here, Tessa.” She pressed the phone to her ear and smiled.

I bolted out of bed as her hand floated to the air near her chest. One finger popped up, then another, indicating how many rings she had heard. I grabbed for the phone but missed as she ducked into the corner, giggling.

“Max?” she said. “Hey there, it's Elle.”

“Give me the phone, Elle.” I swatted at her arm, but she circled around and went the other way.

“No, Tess is fine. Nothing to worry about. We were just heading to the park for a little moonlight sledding. Thought you might want to join us.”

Elle grabbed a fleece jacket from the back of her computer chair and stuffed an arm into the sleeve.

“Cool!” Elle smiled and nodded, giving me a thumbs-up with the hand that erupted from the jacket. “We'll see you in ten.”

I crossed my arms over my chest as she snapped my phone closed. “What did you just do?”

“Get over it,” Elle said, stepping to the door. “You have about two minutes to bundle yourself up, or I'm leaving you behind.”

I looked at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of Elle's closet door. Standing there with my arms tucked against my body, with my foot thrust forward and tapping the floor, I reminded myself of my mother. Why did I always have to be the one to think about consequences? How was it that Elle, after everything, still didn't see any reason to be cautious? I sighed and pulled off the bottoms of my flannel pajamas.

As I reached for a pair of pink flowered long johns heaped on the trundle, Elle clapped her hands and said, “That's right, Tessa. Let's go have some fun!”

“What the hell are you guys doing?” A deep voice whisper-shouted from behind us. Elle's fingers froze midtwist on the handle of the back door. I closed my eyes. Mr. Pendelton would
not
forgive this. I didn't want to see the look of disappointment on his face.

Elle turned and stepped around me. I heard a loud smack.

“Ouch!”

“That's what you get,” Elle said, “for scaring the crap out of me.”

I turned to find Coop behind us, his hair mussed in the soft light glowing from under the microwave.

“Do you know what time it is?” he asked, pointing to the clock on the wall, which read 1:14. “Or how freaked out Mom and Dad would be if they found your room empty?”

“Oh my God,” Elle said, holding her hand in the air. “You two are killing me. Enough with Operation Maturity, okay? I just want to let loose for a few freaking hours.”

“Where are you going?” Coop grabbed a Tupperware container from the countertop and popped off its lid off with a quick snap.

“The park.”

“Are you kidding?” Coop asked, taking a bite of a Christmas cookie left over from the batches Mrs. Pendelton had made for Elle's and Coop's teachers. A last-day-before-break tradition that she'd started when we were in grade school.