Winter Longing (21 page)
Patrice. My fists clenched beside me. I couldn’t believe I’d ever felt any empathy for her. I was going to rip off her head and stick it on a spike, cute little knit hat and all.
Sometimes you had to fight mean with mean.
I stalked through the crowd, bumping into people and not bothering to apologize. This nonsense with Patrice was ending today, one way or another.
“Hey, Winter,” Patrice said as I approached. “Want something sweet to eat?”
“No, Patrice, I want you to stop spreading lies about me just because you can’t convince Jesse to take you back.”
My attack must have surprised her because she looked around frantically, probably worrying that I was going to reveal the girl behind the goody-two-shoes mask to everyone else. Not a bad idea, come to think of it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop lying. Everyone knows you’re the one who started the rumor that I’ve been sleeping around.” I spit the words at her like acid.
Her eyes narrowed. “Rumors often have a basis in fact.”
“Then that must mean you cheated on Jesse. People whisper about it. Therefore, it must be true.”
Patrice rose and stared hard at me. “Then it must also be true that those nasty Kusagak boys weren’t enough for you, so you had to sneak out to seduce poor Spencer Isaacs in the middle of the night. The night before he crashed.”
“Shut up, Patrice!” Jesse’s voice. “Just shut up.”
The world spun as Patrice frantically hissed back at Jesse to be quiet. I stumbled backward, unable to breathe. Spencer’s crash. What if he’d been too tired to fly? What if he hadn’t been focused because of me and my late-night visit?
What if it was all my fault?
I turned and ran blindly, with no idea where I was going.
I ran until my lungs screamed for mercy, until my tears and the chilled air chapped my cheeks. When I slipped on the gravel lining the trail along the river, I fell to my knees and stayed down. I sucked in air until my breathing approached normal before I moved. I ignored the stinging of my knees as I pulled myself to sit halfway down the riverbank.
What a beautiful day to feel like the world was falling apart. The tundra blazed red and gold, and a few fly fishermen lined the opposite side of the river, casting for hungry rainbow trout. And here I sat in the dirt, the hole inside me growing larger and darker with each passing moment.
Why had I gone to Spencer’s that night, when I knew he should be getting his rest? Fresh tears tracked down my cheeks, and I laid my forehead against my upturned knees. I cried until I made myself sick. I was tempted to curl up in the brush and stay there until I ceased to exist.
Footsteps crunched on the gravel, heading my way. I wiped the lingering tears away with the sleeve of my coat.
“There you are.” Jesse sounded relieved. He scrambled down the riverbank to my side. “Are you okay?”
I opened my mouth to say I was fine, but that wasn’t what came out. “No.” My voice broke. I doubted I’d ever be okay again.
Jesse wiped away my fresh tears. I saw with my blurry vision that he was upset, his face tightened like he wanted to throttle someone. My guess was Patrice.
“You can’t listen to her,” he said.
“But what if she’s right?” The mere thought slashed at my insides like an angry raptor’s claws. “What if something I did? . . .”
Jesse shook me. Not hard, but enough to get my attention. “Don’t think like that. You had nothing to do with what happened to Spencer. The plane stalled. You know that. Patrice has just gone too far. There’s no excuse for that.”
I looked into Jesse’s dark eyes. It seemed impossible that he was here with me, taking my side. The world truly had turned upside down.
“I’ve never done anything to her, nothing to make her hate me this much.” I looked down at the torn knees of my jeans. “I’m never going to be able to face anyone again.” I inhaled a shuddery breath. Maybe I could disappear into the bush, try my hand at living off the land, follow the grand tradition of Alaskan hermits.
I didn’t resist when Jesse pulled me against him. His chest felt warm and safe.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“But she said those things where everyone could hear her. I’m sure the entire borough knows by now.”
He ran his hand slowly over my hair, which had fallen loose from its clip. “Not as many people heard as you might think. Besides, what they know is that Patrice is a liar, and that she strikes out like a snake when she doesn’t get her way.”
I pulled back and stared at him. “You said that?”
He nodded. “I put up with her little games because part of me felt sorry for her. I thought maybe she’d grow up and get a backbone. But what she said to you was too much.”
“Thank you.” I still worried that the damage was done. Once something was even whispered in Tundra, everyone heard about it—whether it was true or not. That Jesse had taken up for me was huge. My heart, which had sat so cold and heavy in my chest moments before, warmed.
“You want to go back?”
I shook my head. “I think I’m done with the craft fair for this year.” Maybe forever, since I’d likely not be here at this time next year. I hated Patrice for ruining it for me, for breathing the possibility that Spencer’s death was my fault.
I just couldn’t face everyone so soon after the scene with Patrice. I was afraid they’d see me differently.
I expected Jesse to leave. Instead, he scooted closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and planting a soft kiss on my head. This time, the kiss might have been meant as comfort, but my heart fluttered that it might lead to more.
“If I know what love is, it is because of you.”
—Herman Hesse, Quote-a-Day calendar
CHAPTER 27
Jesse
was right—at least partially. Come Monday morning, I sensed only the occasional whisper or curious look as I walked down the school hallway. As for Patrice, she ignored my existence, which was probably the best reaction I could hope for. That—combined with the fact that I’d spent Sunday being assured by Jesse and Lindsay that I had nothing to do with Spencer’s death—had moved my mood up from ghastly to slightly less ghastly.
was right—at least partially. Come Monday morning, I sensed only the occasional whisper or curious look as I walked down the school hallway. As for Patrice, she ignored my existence, which was probably the best reaction I could hope for. That—combined with the fact that I’d spent Sunday being assured by Jesse and Lindsay that I had nothing to do with Spencer’s death—had moved my mood up from ghastly to slightly less ghastly.
I stuffed my books into my locker. When I closed the door, Lindsay stood there with a wide grin.
“Well, hello, Smiley McSmilerson.”
“I have great news for you.”
“Yeah?”
“I just overheard Patrice talking to her little posse in the restroom, and she said that the Snow Ball committee is hosting an impromptu final fund-raiser on Halloween to bring in a DJ from Kodiak.”
“And this is good news for me how?”
“It’s a
costume
contest, one that Patrice is bragging she’s going to win! She’s already asked her aunt in Anchorage to get her a really hot vampire outfit from a costume shop there. But any of your designs could
smoke
something she gets from a rental shop.”
costume
contest, one that Patrice is bragging she’s going to win! She’s already asked her aunt in Anchorage to get her a really hot vampire outfit from a costume shop there. But any of your designs could
smoke
something she gets from a rental shop.”
A little thrill zipped through me, but I reined it in. “I don’t want to perpetuate this thing with Patrice.”
“No one has to know,” Lindsay said, a wickedly joyful conspiracy thick in her voice. “Think how good it would feel to take her down a notch yourself, with your talent.”
We’d talked about this the day before. While she thought it was really heroic of Jesse to do what he had, she’d also said I needed to make my own stand against Patrice and let go of my worry over why she acted the way she did. Maybe this way I could take that stand without punching her in the face. A bit of self-satisfaction without causing a scene.
“Okay, but only if you do it, too.”
“Deal.” She said it before my words were fully out of my mouth, as if she thought I’d back out. “We’ll get to work on it this afternoon, when I get out of practice.”
I couldn’t wait that long. When I should have been taking notes in my classes, I doodled possible designs. Historical costume was my specialty, though I dabbled with other themes from time to time. While I liked some of my ideas, nothing said, “This is it!”
By the time Lindsay showed up at my house after basketball practice, I had sketches strewn all over my room. She scooted a batch out of the way and flopped onto her stomach on my bed. She flipped through several possibilities while I flicked my pencil against my sketch pad’s spiral binding.
“These are all good. What are you leaning toward?”
“I don’t know. None of them feel right. I want something more . . . aggressive.”
Lindsay looked up. “Sort of a ‘my costume character can kick your costume character’s butt’ kind of thing.”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“So a superhero.” She hopped from the bed and booted up my computer, doing a Web search for female superheroes.
Still, nothing struck me. Seriously, I wouldn’t wear some of those skimpy costumes even if it weren’t late October in Alaska. Just as I was about to give up, our Web surfing stumbled upon Illyria, a superpowerful demon turned good girl from the TV show
Angel
.
Angel
.
“Of course! Illyria was totally badass,” I said. Linds and I had watched
Angel
and
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
religiously with Mom and my sisters when we were younger.
Angel
and
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
religiously with Mom and my sisters when we were younger.
“Her costume is awesome,” Lindsay said as she pointed at the deep reds and blues of the tight leather bodysuit. Then she looked at me. “Plus, you look a little like Fred.” Fred being the brainy girl whose body Illyria took over when she was released from her sarcophagus.
“Scoot.” I shooed Lindsay out of my desk chair and did a bit of surfing until I found a store in Anchorage where I could order the materials I needed. I put a next-day rush on the order, which meant I’d have to set my clock early in the morning so I could call Charlie at the airport before he or Harry Logan made a supply run to Anchorage.
“Now all I need is a blond wig, a Buffy shirt and a wooden stake, and I can stake Patrice’s skanky vamp,” Lindsay said.
I snorted at the image and immediately started surfing for Buffy gear. Within five minutes I’d ordered those items, too.
“I’ll pay you for those when I get paid next time,” Lindsay told me.
I gave her my don’t-start-this-silliness look. “Come on, I’d pay twice that to see native Buffy chasing down Patrice.”
Her bark of laughter made me smile, a definite up on the roller-coaster ride my life had become in recent weeks.
“Dinner’s ready,” Mom called up the stairs.
When we reached the kitchen, I skidded to a halt, causing Lindsay to run into me. Jesse sat at the table.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I ran into Jesse outside,” Mom said as she ladled stew into bowls. “His parents are over in Dillingham tonight, so I invited him to dinner.”
I shifted from one foot to the other. This wasn’t awkward
at all
. Even after talking to him over the weekend, I felt a bit weird around him. I was still addled by that kiss he’d placed on my head and the way he’d held me as I’d cried after my fight with Patrice. The way my body had reacted to his nearness, his touch, by increasing my pulse and urging me closer.
at all
. Even after talking to him over the weekend, I felt a bit weird around him. I was still addled by that kiss he’d placed on my head and the way he’d held me as I’d cried after my fight with Patrice. The way my body had reacted to his nearness, his touch, by increasing my pulse and urging me closer.
We managed to get through dinner with normal, non-embarrassing conversation. Afterward, Linds, Jesse, and I flopped in front of the TV and put
Underworld
in the DVD player.
Underworld
in the DVD player.
“Are you two entering the costume contest?” Jesse asked.
“Yes.” Lindsay slid down on the couch and propped her feet against the sturdy wooden coffee table my parents had purchased at a fall craft fair when I was three. “We just ordered the stuff before dinner. It rocks to have a designer as a best friend.”
Jesse’s eyes met mine. “What are you dressing up as?”
“It’s a surprise.” I tried to focus on Kate Beckinsale and not on how she looked way better in her catsuit than I was going to look in my costume. “Are you entering?”
“I’ll be too busy wearing my uniform.”
I looked back at him. “Huh?”
“Oh, the contest is at the hockey game against Kenai,” Lindsay piped up without looking away from the TV.
“The hockey game?” I’d envisioned walking around the hallways of school dressed as Illyria, not strutting around the ice rink in front of half the town. “Funny how you neglected to mention that.”
Lindsay gave me
the stare
. “You are so not backing out on me now. Besides, you already ordered the stuff.”
the stare
. “You are so not backing out on me now. Besides, you already ordered the stuff.”
What had I gotten myself into? And just so I could have my little fantasy of beating Patrice in a costume contest.
Mom came in with a bowl of popcorn, placed it on the coffee table, then looked at the TV. “He’s hot.” She whistled low. “He” being Scott Speedman as he was being chased by Lycans.
“Mom!” Was there anything worse than having your mother acknowledge a guy’s hotness in front of a guy your own age?
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