first time we’d met. “Okay.”
Jesse spun on his heel, heading for that shiny black car with the two S’s on it. I watched as he drove away, leaving me feeling like a stranger in a bus station, with no ticket and no idea of where to go.
8: Cult
I took a much longer shower than usual, scrubbing my hair until it was sticking up with lather. The woman on the Breck bottle had miles upon miles of shiny, brunette curling hair—sickening. I’d be happy if mine had just a little curl and no weird frizz underneath.
It was the same color as Dad’s: wheat, with a hint of strawberry mixed in.
I slipped on the long, beaded earrings Dad gave to me on my sixteenth birthday and stood in front of the mirror. My brown, slightly tilted eyes were weary behind their soft black, curling lashes. Tonight was the night. I’d leave Springvale for good.
The coin. I walked over and scooped it off the dresser into my palm. The shock it gave reminded me of the task ahead. Problem was, I didn’t know who to trust anymore. Jesse was cool, but I figured he was just another person who would betray me. William’s games hurt me so deep I couldn’t bear to think about him. He had me so confused I was imagining crazy things.
I’d give Jesse the coin and hitchhike out of town.
¤ ¤ ¤
I walked up the hill, slowing my pace after coming up against the outside ridge of the crowd. The sun cooked on my neck, sweat ran down my back—my mouth ran dry. Where was Jesse?
Seeing a concession stand to the right, I stumbled over to order a soda, taking a long sip. A cool breeze washed over the wet skin on the back of my neck, sending a flash freeze down my spine. I managed to walk a few steps when I heard a quiet voice behind me. “Are you frightened?”
“No.”
“You ran from me yesterday. There’s nothing to be afraid of, not really.”
I lowered the soda to the ground with shaking hands. “I’m not afraid.”
There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me?”
I did. Slow.
He smiled, a big beautiful smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he said.
I was completely shook up, and here he was smiling away. About to say something evil, I cut short when he stepped forward and made my brain go numb.
“I hope you don’t mind if I just. . . .”
Without finishing, he took a staggering breath and reached up to touch my face with trepidation. His fingers moved delicate and slow, starting with the line of my chin, then upward, leaving a trail of cold electricity with every caress.
I closed my eyes and was once again in the gazebo, paralyzed in a beautiful spell. His fingers made their way across every part of my face: my eyelids, my cheekbones, the tip of my nose, the faint dimple in my left cheek, stopping with a slow trail down the curve of my neck. When I felt him pull away, I opened my eyes.
He whispered, “Thank you. You can go now if you wish.”
“I-I can go?”
“Yes. I shouldn’t have touched you like that, but I couldn’t help myself.” His expression was wistful, melancholy.
What was I to think of a boy who acted like that? I hated him and I loved him. Most of all I wanted him to kiss me the way I’d always dreamed of.
I adjusted my purse strap. “You know, you can’t just touch someone like that. You have to explain.”
“You’re right.” William looked remorseful.
“Yeah. I mean, there are rules, you know . . . between people.”
“People,” he whispered, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I can’t remember what it feels like. I’ve forgotten how it works.”
“Why do you keep saying weird things like that? You’re not making any sense.”
I gave him an angry glance, which was soon broken up by a loud throng of people passing between us. “Nothing makes any sense—not this town, or the stupid coin I found, or you. None of it makes sense. That’s why I’m leaving.”
“Coin,” he whispered, his eyes opening in a sudden
Jesse spun on his heel, heading for that shiny black car with the two S’s on it. I watched as he drove away, leaving me feeling like a stranger in a bus station, with no ticket and no idea of where to go.
8: Cult
I took a much longer shower than usual, scrubbing my hair until it was sticking up with lather. The woman on the Breck bottle had miles upon miles of shiny, brunette curling hair—sickening. I’d be happy if mine had just a little curl and no weird frizz underneath.
It was the same color as Dad’s: wheat, with a hint of strawberry mixed in.
I slipped on the long, beaded earrings Dad gave to me on my sixteenth birthday and stood in front of the mirror. My brown, slightly tilted eyes were weary behind their soft black, curling lashes. Tonight was the night. I’d leave Springvale for good.
The coin. I walked over and scooped it off the dresser into my palm. The shock it gave reminded me of the task ahead. Problem was, I didn’t know who to trust anymore. Jesse was cool, but I figured he was just another person who would betray me. William’s games hurt me so deep I couldn’t bear to think about him. He had me so confused I was imagining crazy things.
I’d give Jesse the coin and hitchhike out of town.
¤ ¤ ¤
I walked up the hill, slowing my pace after coming up against the outside ridge of the crowd. The sun cooked on my neck, sweat ran down my back—my mouth ran dry. Where was Jesse?
Seeing a concession stand to the right, I stumbled over to order a soda, taking a long sip. A cool breeze washed over the wet skin on the back of my neck, sending a flash freeze down my spine. I managed to walk a few steps when I heard a quiet voice behind me. “Are you frightened?”
“No.”
“You ran from me yesterday. There’s nothing to be afraid of, not really.”
I lowered the soda to the ground with shaking hands. “I’m not afraid.”
There was a slight pause before he spoke again. “Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me?”
I did. Slow.
He smiled, a big beautiful smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he said.
I was completely shook up, and here he was smiling away. About to say something evil, I cut short when he stepped forward and made my brain go numb.
“I hope you don’t mind if I just. . . .”
Without finishing, he took a staggering breath and reached up to touch my face with trepidation. His fingers moved delicate and slow, starting with the line of my chin, then upward, leaving a trail of cold electricity with every caress.
I closed my eyes and was once again in the gazebo, paralyzed in a beautiful spell. His fingers made their way across every part of my face: my eyelids, my cheekbones, the tip of my nose, the faint dimple in my left cheek, stopping with a slow trail down the curve of my neck. When I felt him pull away, I opened my eyes.
He whispered, “Thank you. You can go now if you wish.”
“I-I can go?”
“Yes. I shouldn’t have touched you like that, but I couldn’t help myself.” His expression was wistful, melancholy.
What was I to think of a boy who acted like that? I hated him and I loved him. Most of all I wanted him to kiss me the way I’d always dreamed of.
I adjusted my purse strap. “You know, you can’t just touch someone like that. You have to explain.”
“You’re right.” William looked remorseful.
“Yeah. I mean, there are rules, you know . . . between people.”
“People,” he whispered, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I can’t remember what it feels like. I’ve forgotten how it works.”
“Why do you keep saying weird things like that? You’re not making any sense.”
I gave him an angry glance, which was soon broken up by a loud throng of people passing between us. “Nothing makes any sense—not this town, or the stupid coin I found, or you. None of it makes sense. That’s why I’m leaving.”
“Coin,” he whispered, his eyes opening in a sudden
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