In the Dark
it happened so quickly. The truth is, I have no idea. Sure, he’s handsome. Tall and lean, still a little short of meat and muscle, like most boys. He’s got that long, wavy hair that looks untamed. And those amazing eyes. That was what I first noticed, his eyes, which are dark and deep. I could see everything in them. Pain. Loss. Black humor. Seriousness of purpose. He is so intense that I just have to cut him down to size every now and then, and he doesn’t seem to care when I wound his ego.
     
Right now, he is searching. I understand, because that was me, after my mom died. I was fourteen then, and I spent a lot of time searching, wondering where to go, what I would do, who I would become. I feel as if I’ve found my answers, but Jonny only lost his dad nine months ago, and he’s still looking. He grew up wanting to go to sea like his dad, but not anymore. His mother won’t let another Stride step on board an ore boat. I don’t think Jonny wants it now, either. It’s like the lake betrayed him when it took his father. Now the lake is an enemy.
     
I don’t know what he will do, but when he figures it out, I know he’ll pour his whole heart and soul into it. Like he’s poured his heart and soul into me.
     
Jonny shouted something to the pitcher, who held the ball and waited for him. He came off the base and jogged up to us. He wore shorts and sneakers. His chest was bare. He kissed me.
     
“Hi.”
     
“Hi.”
     
We were awkward around each other, because we both knew what we were thinking. It’s exciting, unsettling, and unnerving when you know you’re going to do it.
     
“We’re going down to the lake,” I told him. “Meet us there, okay?”
     
“Yeah.”
     
“Will you be long?”
     
“No, we’re almost done, and the rain will probably wash us out in a couple minutes anyway.”
     
“Okay, love you.”
     
“Love you, too.”
     
Jonny kissed me again. He waved at Laura, but I could see him wondering if the two of us would be alone. Part of me wanted Laura to stay, because I was nervous about what was going to happen. Part of me couldn’t wait to jump off the cliff.
     
We continued by the side of the field to where another trail led down along the creek toward the lake. The eyes of the boys followed us. They made jokes. Laura stayed on my left and stared at the ground.
     
I noticed Peter Stanhope among the boys. He was coming up to bat next. We had to pass within a few feet of him, and he leaned on his bat and watched us the whole way, his head swiveling to track us, his eyes gleaming. Laura didn’t look up at all, but I could tell she knew he was there. It was Laura he wanted. He didn’t say a word to either of us, but we felt him. Peter had a presence, because he was so sure of himself. He wasn’t as tall as Jonny, but he was beefy and strong. He had bushy blond hair, parted in the middle, swept back in two waves. He chewed gum relentlessly, and his lips were always parted in a perpetual smirk that dimpled his cheeks. His skin was ruddy and freckled.
     
Most of the girls chased after him. They wanted a ride in his Trans Am. They wanted to swim in the Olympic-sized pool in his father’s backyard. Peter went from one girl to the next, doing what he did with Laura, pushing them to have sex. Most said yes. Rumor is, he even bedded down a couple of the marriedteachers at school. That’s the way life is when you’re a Stanhope. The word “no” isn’t in your vocabulary. Peter’s father, Randall, owns a big mining operation in the harbor. People are afraid of him. He’s the kind of man who can get what he wants by picking up the phone. So Peter lives that way, too. Taking the things he wants.
     
I resented him, because we never had much money in my house, and I figured anyone with that much money probably got it by stepping all over other people. I also didn’t like the way he treated Laura. I was never sure why she went out with him. But he didn’t care what I thought. I was nothing. He looked right through me, and I could

Similar Books

Everlastin' Book 1

Mickee Madden

My Butterfly

Laura Miller

Don't Open The Well

Kirk Anderson

Amulet of Doom

Bruce Coville

Canvas Coffin

William Campbell Gault