Page 11 of After Midnight


  He smiled down at me. “Nothing about us is wrong.”

  I went still as he bent his head to mine, and his hair fell like a curtain around our faces. He was going to kiss me, and in that moment I thought my heart would stop. I closed my eyes and waited for the touch of his mouth against mine.

  Something yowled, and I opened my eyes to find myself standing alone in the middle of my dark room. I whirled around. “Jesse?”

  He was gone.

  No, I thought as I pressed my hands over my eyes. He’d never been there. I’d been dreaming.

  Damp air washed over me, and I looked at the window, which was sitting wide open. When I went over to shut it, I stepped on something made of paper that made my foot slide. I changed direction and reached for the lamp next to my bed, and then it struck me. I didn’t remember turning off the lamp, or opening the window. I flipped on the switch and turned slowly around.

  My mother’s letters lay scattered all over the floor.

  Maybe the wind blew them off the bed. I hurried to pick them up and put the stack on my nightstand. There I found the old ribbon that had been tied around them draped around the base of my lamp. The ends of the ribbon had been tied in a bow.

  I’d fallen asleep before I’d started reading the letters, I was sure of it. I might have untied the ribbon first, which would explain why they were scattered all over the floor, but no wind in the world could re-tie a ribbon around something else.

  I walked over to the window and looked out, expecting to see Jesse standing on the ground beneath. A dozen eyes glinted up at me, making me catch my breath until I made out a little patch of white, and heard the plaintive meows that had woken me up. Soul Patch and a small group of stray cats—I counted seven of them—sat in a little group directly beneath my window.

  As if they were guarding it.

  Ten

  After putting away my mother’s letters I lay staring at the ceiling and wondering what was happening to me. Had I been sleepwalking again? Could I have done everything myself, and just not remembered doing it? Was I imagining the whole thing?

  Each time I’d almost convinced myself that it had all been a dream, I’d take a deep breath and pick up the faintest trace of herbs and spices and honey. I could imagine plenty things, but not how someone smelled.

  Jesse had been in my room. I was sure of it.

  My alarm went off just as I was starting to feel drowsy, and then I had to get up. Trick had to leave before me and Gray to meet with the local equine vet to examine some brood mares before he bought them. I ate the lukewarm, lumpy oatmeal he’d made for us without even tasting it.

  If Jesse had come to the house last night, then everything in my dream might have happened, too: What he’d said to me, how he’d held me in his arms, how close I’d come to having my first kiss. But that part of it seemed completely unreal. Why would someone like Jesse ask a girl he’d met exactly two times to run away with him?

  It’s the only way we can be together.

  As I rinsed the breakfast dishes I tried to imagine us just being together without running away. Because of his condition he couldn’t go out in the sunlight, so we’d never be able to do normal things like have picnics or go for walks (unless we did them after sunset).

  We had almost nothing in common. He lived in a mansion on an island; I lived in an old farmhouse on a horse ranch. His family had built this town; mine just got here. The Ravens were rich and probably gave their son everything he wanted. Trick had always taken care of me and Gray, but we didn’t really have anything except the farm and the horses.

  Then there were the differences between our personalities. Jesse was confident and did what he wanted; I was shy and did what I was told. He was incredibly good-looking; I wasn’t even that pretty. He could have any girl he liked. I’d never been kissed.

  No, it had to be a dream.

  Gray didn’t try to talk to me again about Tiffany or Boone, but I knew he wanted to, especially with the way he kept glancing over at me on the way to school. I got out of the truck as soon as he pulled into his space in the student parking lot, not waiting for him to shut off the engine. He called after me, but I strode off to my first class.

  Over the next couple hours it took all my energy not to nod off or think about last night. By the time I went to lunch I began feeling achy and slightly feverish, as if I were coming down with a cold. That combined with my physical and mental exhaustion was turning me into a zombie.

  If Jesse saw me now, I thought as I found an empty table and sat down, he’d run the other way.

  “Hey, Cat.” Barb put down her tray next to mine and looked at the other empty chairs at our lunch table. “Geez. I guess everyone heard.”

  “Everyone heard yesterday.” I took a bite of the sandwich I’d made at home, which had mayo and lettuce on it; I’d forgotten to add turkey. “Today they’re waiting for the big breakup scene.”

  “Jamie Maloney told me that Boone called Tiffany last night to break up with her,” Barb said. “That’s probably why she’s … never mind.”

  I propped my cheek against my fist. “Why she’s what?”

  My friend took a big drink of her soda and cleared her throat. “Tiffany thinks Boone did this whole thing because he’s, um … ” When I rolled my hand, she rushed out with, “Because he’s been secretly cheating on her.”

  I dropped my sandwich bag into my lunch bag. “He probably has.”

  “With you.”

  I stared at her.

  “At least, that’s what she’s telling everyone,” Barb said quickly. “She thinks you two have been seeing each other behind her back for a while. Like since summer.”

  I almost told her that I had been seeing Jesse Raven, but then I’d have to admit that we’d only met twice while out riding and he didn’t want to see me again. Not exactly the best alibi in the world.

  “She can’t be serious.” I grabbed my lunch bag and crumpled it into a ball. “I just moved here three months ago. I didn’t know Boone until after I started school. The only time I see him is at school. What does she think, we’re making out in the back of the classroom?”

  “Only if you’re doing it under the desks,” Ego said as he dropped into the chair next to mine. “But I would have noticed if you were. All I’ve seen you do is dodge the big baboon.”

  “Ego, don’t call him that.” Barb glowered at him before she turned to me, her expression concerned. “Jamie told me that Tiffany’s pretty mad at you. Not just for the library thing, but for stealing her boyfriend. She told Jamie that she’s going to do whatever it takes to get even with you.”

  “For the last time, I did not steal Boone from his girlfriend. I don’t want Boone.” I saw kids sitting at the tables around us turn to look at me and lowered my voice. “This is crazy. I don’t even like him. She’s making this all up so she can blame me for what he did to her.”

  “Classic denial and competitive devaluation,” Ego said after guzzling down some milk. “Tiffany can’t blame Boone for what he does because he’s her boyfriend, so she transfers the blame onto Cat, the new girl no one knows.”

  “She wouldn’t do that,” Barb protested.

  “Sure she would.” He wiped his white mustache off on the back of his sleeve and grinned at me. “She also makes you look like a conniving boyfriend thief by holding you responsible for Boone’s actions, which makes her feel better about the situation and herself. It also gives her hope that once her rumors destroy your rep, Boone won’t want you anymore. Talk about deluding yourself.” He looked us, puzzled. “What? I’m taking psychology this semester.”

  “Great, just what I need in my life,” Barb snapped. “Another shrink.”

  I pressed my hands to the sides of my head. “What will Tiffany do if my head explodes?”

  Ego snickered. “You mean, besides throw a huge party and invite Boone to be her date?”

  “Will you stop?” Barb gave him a dirty look. “Cat, you don’t have to let her intimidate you.”
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  “She doesn’t.”

  Ego scoffed. “What you have to do is be proactive. Make the first strike and show her what will happen if she messes with you. Sprinkle some pepper on her pom-poms. Hide a couple of roaches in her desk. Girls really hate bugs.”

  “He’s right,” Barb agreed. “I could help. I know plenty of ways to get to Tiffany. You could snitch a bag of fertilizer from the agricultural club and empty it into her gas tank.”

  Ego choked back a laugh. “Uh, Barb, I’m pretty sure that’s the same way you blow up a federal building.”

  “No homemade manure bombs, please.” I saw my brother walking through the tables and looking around. “Gray?”

  He heard me and changed direction. “Hey.”

  “My brother, Gray,” I told my friends. “Gray, this is Barb and Ego. Gray.” He was looking around again, and I had to poke him to get his attention. “What are you doing here? Are you lost or something?”

  “No. Hi.” He spared Barb and Ego a glance before he looked past me again. “I have to stay after school today.”

  I certainly didn’t feel like doing the same. “How long?”

  “An hour or two. You can wait for me or take the bus home. I already checked with the front office, and they gave me a pass for you. It’s number seventeen.” He handed me a bus pass.

  I felt a little hurt, but I took the bus pass and stuck it in my shirt pocket. “Why are you staying after?” He couldn’t have gotten a detention; Gray never got into trouble.

  “Tryouts.” His eyes shifted past me. “They start today.”

  So he was really going to do it. “Do you want me to stay and watch?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “It would be okay if you were there.”

  “I wish I could stay after with you, Cat,” Barb said, “but I have a doctor’s appointment, and my mom will kill me if I miss another one.”

  Ego shook his head. “Don’t look at me. I’m allergic to jocks. They make me break out in uncontrollable laughter.”

  “I’m really tired, Gray, and I think I’m getting a cold, too. Would you mind if I went home?” When he didn’t answer me, I followed the direction of his gaze and saw he was looking at Tiffany and the cheerleaders. “Gray. Gray.” I nudged my brother until he looked at me. “Do you mind if I go home instead?”

  “Do what you want. I gotta go.” With that he walked off.

  “Why is your brother even bothering to try out?” Ego sounded amused. “He just has to show up. The minute the coach sees him, he’ll hand him a uniform. Then he’ll get busy kissing the ground your brother smears everyone into.”

  “Gray might make the team,” I said, looking over at the cheerleaders’ table, “but I doubt he’ll stay on it for long.”

  Ego laughed. “Cat, if you haven’t noticed, your brother is built like a tank. All he has to do is stand on the field, and the other team will either faint or run home whimpering for their mommies.”

  I knew that. What I didn’t know was why Gray had been looking at the cheerleaders. Was it Tiffany? Was she pretending to be his friend so she could fill his head with more lies? Was that how she intended to get back at me, by using my own brother?

  I hated this not knowing. The only time I felt like I knew anything for sure was when I was back at the farm or out riding Sali. I could wait until dark and take her along the boundary fence, and maybe catch a glimpse of Jesse. Even if he didn’t want to see me again, I was sure he was still out riding after midnight.

  I looked over at Tiffany, who glared back at me. Give me all the dirty looks you want, I thought. I’ve walked in the moonlight with the most beautiful boy in this town, and he held my hand and compared me to a flower.

  “I love football season,” Barb said dreamily. “Boone makes every game so exciting. He’s the best quarterback in the county.” She saw how Ego and I were looking at her and sighed. “Well, he is.”

  “I’ll see you guys later.” I carried my trash over to the garbage cans in the corner, but when I turned around a brown and white varsity jacket was in my face. I looked up into the cold green eyes of the last person I wanted anywhere near me. “What?”

  Boone’s smile dimmed. “Well, hello to you, too.” He sounded faintly resentful, as if he’d expected a nicer reception.

  “Hello. Good-bye.” When I tried to go around him, he shifted to block me. “I have to go.”

  “Remember the library, yesterday?” When I didn’t reply, the last of his smile disappeared. “Don’t thank me for what I did.”

  “Okay, I won’t.” He wouldn’t budge, and I let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to be late for next period. Please move.”

  “I saw your brother signed up to try out for the team,” he said. “I could put in a good word with the coach for him.” He reached out and ran his finger across the collar band of my T-shirt before I could move out of reach. “I will, if you’ll do something for me.”

  What I wanted to do in that moment was find a baseball bat, and convince someone to hold Boone down for me. “My brother doesn’t need any favors from you, and neither do I.”

  “But everyone needs friends.” Boone chucked me under my chin. “Look, all I need you to do is go out with me once, and I’ll let your brother join the team.”

  “I’m not allowed to date.” I got an idea and smiled past him as if a teacher were there. “Hello, Mrs. Newsom.” When Boone turned around to look, I finally got past him and deliberately joined a group of kids I didn’t know who were leaving the cafeteria.

  “You’re Cat Youngblood, right?” one of the girls who was walking beside me asked.

  “That’s me.” I was not going to look back to see if Boone was stalking me, so I focused on her. “Aren’t you in my Calculus class?”

  “Yeah, I am.” She uttered a nervous giggle. “Um, do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you, like, going steady with Aaron Boone now?”

  “No.” I gritted my teeth, until I realized what an excellent opportunity this was to spread some of my own gossip. “I already have a boyfriend. A big, mean, extremely jealous boyfriend, who adores me and hates football players. His nickname is Killer.”

  “Really? Wow.” Her eyes widened. “Does he know about you and Boone?”

  As soon as the dismissal bell rang I took the bus pass out of my pocket and started walking to the loop behind the school where the buses were parked and waiting. I was so tired now it was making me sick; I desperately needed to go home, pop some aspirin, fall on my bed and not move for at least twelve hours. I didn’t want to see Boone again, and Grim could obviously take care of himself. He hadn’t asked me to watch him at the tryouts. He wouldn’t care one way or another.

  It would be okay if you were there, he’d said.

  Anyone listening would agree with me. Except I knew my brother, and while Gray would walk barefoot through a dead sticker-burr patch before he’d admit it, he wanted someone there who cared about him.

  I hated myself as I turned around and started walking toward the east side of campus, where the gymnasium and the football field were. I saw a bunch of boys standing along the sidelines and putting on shoulder pads and unmarked brown jerseys, but I stopped in the shadow of the stands so no one would see me.

  Gray had already put on the gear and stood slightly apart from the others. He turned and looked in my direction, and I stepped out into the sunlight for a minute to give him a wave. He flashed me a grin before he pulled on the brown and white tiger-striped helmet in his hands.

  An older man in a brown polo shirt and white baseball cap who was carrying a clipboard walked out to the sidelines. He must have been the coach, because Gray and the other boys gathered around him.

  “I could home by now,” I grumbled as I sat down on the end of the very bottom row of the stands. “Sleeping.”

  A couple other students and a half-dozen parents came to sit in the stands, but all of them sat at close to the fifty-yard line, which was
where the coach was dividing the boys into small groups. Boone was the last to arrive, and unlike the others he was wearing an official team jersey with the number eight and his last name printed across the shoulder yoke. The coach waved him over to the group Gray was in before he blew his whistle and the groups lined up.

  “Hi.” A middle-aged woman with graying red hair sat down next to me, and tucked her purse under the bench seat. “Is your boyfriend out there?”

  “No, my brother.” I glanced at her. “Are you here to see your son try out?”

  “My nephew. His mom had to work today, so I told her I’d drop by.” She scanned the field. “We should have a good team this year.” She pointed to one boy with red hair like hers. “That’s him. Peter Norris, do you know him?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know many kids at this school. My family just moved here this summer.”

  “Really.” She gave me a longer look. “I haven’t seen you in town.”

  “I live out on a farm with my brothers,” I explained.

  Her expression changed in a flash from curious to disapproving. “Oh. My husband Jim told me about you.” She reached for her purse and got up. “Excuse me, I see some of my friends.” She walked to the opposite side of the stands to sit with the other moms.

  “Nice to meet you, too.” Peter’s aunt must have also been the sheriff’s wife, since he was the only Jim we’d met. Judging by her reaction, we hadn’t impressed him much. Anger erased my exhaustion, and I sat up a little straighter. I could sleep any time; this was the only chance I’d likely ever have to see Gray play football.

  As the sun dropped low and made me shade my eyes with my hand, I wondered if Jesse had ever wanted to do something like this. He didn’t seem like the jock type, but that didn’t mean anything. He had to be pretty strong to control Prince as easily as he did. Then I realized he could never try out for any team because it would mean coming outside in the sun. How much of life has he missed because he can’t go out in the daylight?

  After the players went through a series of what looked like warm-up exercises, the coach went down the lines and marked X’s in chalk on the front and back of every other boy’s jersey. Gray got an X and when the next whistle blew he ran across the field to the opposite sideline with all the other X’s. They turned around and ran back, and repeated that six times before the coach blew his whistle. At that point all the boys with unmarked jerseys did the same thing while the X’s trotted toward one end of the field.