My face burns as I draw in a slow breath. “Fire stuff.”
Both boys bristle, and Asher’s fingers graze the jagged pink scars on his left hand. He steps closer. “Who was it? Laura?”
“Calm down. I’m fine.”
Asher’s shoulders slacken. He steps closer, peering down at me with those crystal blue eyes we share. “I know what you need. A movie night. Tonight?”
I force a smile. “That sounds good.” As long as it’s not Firestarter.
“Great. Maybe Brandon will stop by.”
A week ago, the thought of sharing a sofa with Brandon Alvarez would’ve sent me deeper into depression. Asher’s former best friend hasn’t been around much since he decided to date Laura Gellman freshman year. Out of loyalty to me, Asher stopped hanging out with him. Then last spring, Brandon and Laura broke up, and Asher got the deluded notion that I’d magically forgive and forget.
It doesn’t help that Asher spied Brandon and me getting on swimmingly together at a party last week. I told my brother the truth about my moment with Brandon: we’d discovered we had something in common.
I’ll never tell a soul exactly what it was. When the buzz wore off, I tried to go back to despising everything about Brandon, down to that stupid dimple. But I couldn’t. Everything’s weird now.
Asher’s head tilts toward Gideon. “Cass, give us a sec, okay?” I nod. They duck into the hall, and I can’t make out a word over the hum of the air-conditioning.
I stand alone in the cold kitchen, backpack heavy in my hands. The whispers floating through the air send pangs into my gut. I hate their guy talk.
Moments later, they slink back in, smiling.
“Okay.” Asher checks his back pocket for his wallet. “I ran out of printer ink, so I’m off to see if Carver’s has anything remotely compatible. If not, I’ll be back in three hours.” He’s exaggerating, but not by much. Maribel, Oregon, is a tiny former lumber town in the rural depths of the state. We have one drugstore, one diner, one dive bar, and one ice cream parlor. If that doesn’t cut it, the nearest shopping center is an hour drive. Though Maribel boasts breathtaking scenery, boredom is the leading cause of death. I don’t plan on sticking around long enough to challenge that statistic.
Asher grabs his keys from the hook by the door. “See you tonight.” He tosses me one last concerned look before the door clanks behind him.
I turn to Gideon. “What was that about?”
He sighs. “What do you think? He tried to pump me for more information. I honored your wishes and kept quiet. He just told me to watch out for you.”
My heart surges and falls. Of course. My brother, the hero. He has a way of making me immensely grateful and astoundingly irritated all at once. “You always watch out for me, Giddy.”
Gideon zips my backpack and takes it from me, shoulders rolling as he hefts it on. “Tell your brother that. And tell me we’re going to exact some sort of vengeance on Laura.”
I follow him out the back door. “Why is she such a terrible person?”
“Please remember she’s not really a person. Laura—demon spawn, alien, whatever she is—is jealous of you.”
“Sure,” I mutter dryly. But we both know why Laura really targets me.
We begin walking through the forested area behind my house. The fragrance of my mom’s perfectly pruned jasmines fades, replaced by fresh pine and earth. A cool wind whips through the trees, and I wrap my arms around myself. Gideon stops suddenly, and grumbles, “I forgot about Dave’s thing tonight.”
Right. Dave Halper’s big party. Gideon and the rest of the football players are supposed to go, which means he wants me to go and keep him company while our schoolmates grope one another until they puke.
I pick at a fingernail. “We already met our quota of things for the year. Wouldn’t you rather stay in tonight and watch movies?”
“Of course. I just promised I’d stop by. But I can text Dave that something came up.”
He starts walking again and I tag along after him. “Gid—”
“Cass, I’m supposed to be making you feel better. Forget the party. Forget Laura. Let’s talk about life’s big questions. Like…what are you going to study in college that combines your academic prowess with your volleyball abilities?” Gideon scratches his head as if in genuine, deep thought. “What sort of profession entails working equations while cramming a ball into someone’s face?” His smile is contagious.
“I’m sure we can think of something,” I joke.
“We’ll have to make a list of those prerequisites and you can give them to the guidance counselor, Whatshername, at your next appointment.”
“Whatshername was always my favorite counselor.”
“Definitely beats out my counselor, Whatshisname, a.k.a. Haymitch, when it comes to counsel.” Gideon’s steps pause. “Though I’m starting to wonder if the Haymitch thing applies to more than his uncanny resemblance to Woody Harrelson.”
“Ahhh, you think there’s a flask behind the desk?”
“His cheeks are so gosh-darn rosy.” He passes me a silly, knowing look, and I punch him in the arm.
We reach the small creek that runs through my family’s property. At this hour in the afternoon, the creek becomes enchanted by the sunlight that bursts through the spaces in the trees, making the water shimmer. We carefully hop over a few stones blanketed in green moss to cross to the other side.
Gideon and I approach the barricade of trees that shelters our sanctuary. We crouch down like forest animals and push through the bases of the tree trunks where the leaves thin out. The grass and weeds itch all the way up to our faces.
Once inside the clearing, we kick aside the woven cover of twigs that camouflages the opening. We tug off the large blue tarp, setting it to one side, and use a wooden crate to step down into the roofless, bunker-style hideout. A crumpled math test and a few empty soda cans litter the floorboards. Gideon shoos a stowaway lizard up the wall and brushes aside some cobwebs while I pull out the snacks. Then, using my backpack as a cushion, I settle into a corner, breathing in the musty scent.
This place had been Gideon’s idea. When we were ten years old, I read The Lord of the Rings: Part 1. Gideon, on the other hand, didn’t have the attention span for it. But one day, he appeared before me beaming.
“I saw The Fellowship of the Ring,” he said, his words dripping with excitement and mischief. “My parents were watching it last night. I snuck out of my room and sat behind them in the hallway.”
“You watched a three-hour movie sitting on the hallway floor?” I struggled to imagine Gideon staying silent and still for anything for three hours.