Page 7 of Crescent Gorge

As Rachel and Paul headed out of town to the Shop-N-Save, Heather peeked out from behind a building across the street. Her small blue eyes followed Paul and Rachel as they crossed the street, and she mouthed several select profanities as they clasped hands once more.

  "She's never gonna get a clue," she whispered.

  "What?" asked Adrian, who sat reluctantly beside her. "Why are we even following them? I feel like some damned perv." He pulled out his phone, and cued up a racing game.

  "Would you put that shit away!" she snapped, as she yanked at his shirt to pull him up. "I know you like her."

  Adrian pulled his shirt away, and anxiously glanced back and forth, glad that no one saw him being thrown around by a girl. He opened his mouth, about to say something.

  "What?" snapped Heather.

  He wanted to say that he knew she liked Rachel as well, but saw the murderous rage behind her placid blue eyes and thought better of it. Yet, her eyes transfixed him, as they were open, and revealing. He saw Heather's memories inside them, of a girl who struggled with identity for all her life. He saw her father who kept wishing she was a boy; a mother who was strict and beat her with a thin iron pipe. A father who betrayed; a mother who killed in revenge, covering it up so well that only Heather knew the truth. He saw Heather's mother abstain from the pleasures and company of men, heard the rants about all the men who betrayed her in her life. He felt Heather's arm being yanked away as she spoke to a cute boy, heard the rebuke from her embittered mother. He saw those same blue eyes covered with tears when she found out her mother died suddenly from cancer, and felt the yearning she had to feel safe in a woman's arms again.

  And though normally Heather would have turned away, she didn't. For the first time since before her father became corrupted, she was entranced by the gaze of a man. For in his eyes Heather saw her own reflection; a faceless thing in orbit around Rachel. Her eyes drifted, becoming cloudy, and she sensed other faceless things in Rachel's orbit. She wondered why a girl as unassuming, as unremarkable as Rachel would have so many who desired her. The longer she regarded her reflection, the deeper into her subconscious she sank, and the more was revealed. She saw her and her friends as pieces on a giant board that undulated like water in the ocean, a board that threatened to knock those pieces off. She could feel some would be left standing, and those pieces would resolve, and become defined, and go off into the sky to ascend into the light.

  "Ohh, look at the lovebirds," cooed a little girl as she passed by.

  They both snapped out of their reverie, and each felt they had learned something that they couldn't quite recall.

  "So . . ," began Heather, "when are you gonna make a move?"

  "What do I have that Paul doesn't?"

  "White skin."

  "That's fuckin' stupid," said Adrian with disgust, as he stepped back. "I don't think like that."

  Heather shook her head, wordlessly communicating how naive she thought he was. "Whether or not you think like that is immaterial; her parents think like that. She can barely hold his hand in public; do you think she could ever take him home to meet them? And if she did, do you think they'd allow it to continue? Paul's smart, but he can be beaten, not with raw intelligence, but with cunning and guile. With strategy. Outmaneuver him, corner him, and he'll break down."

  "How . . . how can I do that?"

  "I can't tell you everything to do, but I can tell you that it can be done." Heather crossed her arms, and gazed off to where Paul and Rachel once were. "She's a prize; I can feel it. Can't you? There's something about her that is as a trophy is; gleaming and pure, symbolizing the strength and focus of the competitor that wins her. And I tell you she's in your reach."

  Adrian nodded. "But . . . what's in it for you?"

  Heather shrugged. "I hate Paul, and I don't want to see him win."

  "Why do you hate him?" he asked. "What did he --"

  "Not for you to worry about," she said, abruptly cutting him off. "All you need to worry about is reminding Rachel how unsuitable he is for her in the long run. Then everything will sort itself out."