“Don’t you ever wonder why he’s so hostile and anti-social? It’s because he can’t fit in. He scares other kids, and they avoid him, and he knows it.” I leaned forward. “Trick, I think Gray is lonely. He wants to be accepted, to be part of something. I don’t know why he picked football—he’s never been into sports—but I think he sees this as his chance to be more like other kids. That for once his size will be a good thing.”
“If he doesn’t put someone in the hospital,” my brother said flatly. “What will happen to Gray after he hurts someone on the field? Do you think the other kids will admire him for it?”
“He won’t hurt anyone.” His expression made it clear he didn’t believe me, and then I thought of Gray’s truck. “You let him get a driver’s license. He takes the truck to school every day.”
“So?”
“So it’s a big truck. A big, powerful truck, right?” I spread my hands. “Why don’t you worry that he’ll run down someone in the street? You don’t because you know Gray is a good driver. He’s careful. He doesn’t speed or drag race or do anything stupid. You can depend on him to drive safely.”
Doubt clouded his eyes. “You think playing football is the same as driving a truck?”
“They’re both a matter of trust.” I folded my arms. “Gray knows exactly how big and strong he is. He’s not a hothead. He’d never hurt a fly and you know it. So either you trust him, Trick, or you don’t. Your choice.”
He pushed his plate with the half-eaten pizza away. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
Might as well tell him everything now, so he’d get angry all at once instead of in stages.
“While I was poking around in your desk looking for the physical I found the old deed to the farm. I know this place used to belong to Dad. I also took some letters mom wrote. I’ve been reading them.” I thought of Jesse, but I felt sure now that I’d only been obsessing and dreaming about him. It was over; I’d never see him again, and in a few weeks I’d forget all about him. “That’s all.”
He didn’t say anything for a long time. “And you want me to trust you.”
I winced a little. “It was wrong of me, I admit it. But I wasn’t looking for them, and I didn’t have to tell you that I’d found them.” I needed to go carefully from here. “I’ve known for a long time that you and Gray have been keeping certain things from me. I’m almost sixteen, Trick. Isn’t that old enough to know the top secret stuff?”
He looked uncomfortable now. “What do you think we’re hiding from you?”
“In that box with Mom’s letter was the key to that old trunk; the one you said got lost when we moved.” A jittery feeling came over me as I thought of the trunk, and my hand shook a little as I gestured toward the barn “If that’s true, why is it up in the hayloft covered with a horse blanket?”
“I wasn’t hiding it. Gray and I found it with some boxes we hadn’t bothered to unpack after we got here,” he said. “The house attic is packed, so I put it up in the hayloft until I have some time to go through it.” He put his hand over mine. “You should forget about the trunk; it’s probably full of bugs. What else?”
I felt a little dizzy, but after a moment the sensation passed. “I’d like to know the real reason why Sheriff Yamah hates us,” I said. “And don’t give me the we’re the outsiders here speech again. He said we’re trouble, and he sounded pretty serious. Why would he think that?”
“He knew our father,” Trick said slowly. “Dad told me that he and the sheriff had a fight over our mother, and Yamah lost. So he had Dad arrested for assaulting a police officer, and almost got him sent to prison for it. After the charges were dropped, Yamah made life so unpleasant for our parents that they chose to leave town. The sheriff has been holding a grudge against the Youngbloods ever since.”
I exhaled slowly. “I didn’t know mom had lived at this farm.”
“Our parents came to Lost Lake right after they were married.” Trick picked up his dishes and carried them over to the sink. “I lived here, too. I was born here.”
No wonder the farm meant so much to him. “But that’s like nothing. Why keep it from me?”
“I guess I’m old-fashioned. I didn’t want you to think of our father in jail. He was only defending me and Mom.” He finished rinsing his dishes and came back to the table. “I don’t look much like Dad, and neither does Gray, but you’re the image of him, Cat. That’s why it’s important that you stay clear of the sheriff.”
“Now that I know what happened with him and Dad,” I chided, “I will. Is the sheriff the reason you hid Mom’s letters? Does she talk about him in them?” When he gave me a surprised look, I said, “I haven’t read all of them yet.”
“Does Gray know you have them?” When I shook my head, he said, “I have to check on the horses. Walk with me out to the barn.”
I suspected that he’d already gotten the horses settled for the night, but he obviously didn’t want to answer my question, so I followed him out anyway. Sali whickered to me as soon as she saw me, and shuffled forward, obviously expecting to be saddled. As Trick went to Jupiter’s stall I glared at her and shook my head. Sali snorted in disgust but drew her head back inside.
I glanced in at Flash, who ignored me because I wasn’t Gray, before I went to Jupe’s stall, where the big white stood blinking sleepily as Trick rubbed his neck. “Gray doesn’t know about Mom’s letters, does he?” I asked.
“No.” Trick walked over to the hay bales stacked inside the feed bin and hefted one over, carrying and dropping it outside Jupe’s stall. “I didn’t want either of you to know anything about our grandparents.”
“The Fanelsens,” I said, and he nodded as he sat down on the bale. I sat beside him. “Why not?”
He sighed. “I was afraid you or Gray might try to contact them.”
“But how could we? They’re dead.” Then I got it. “Oh. They’re not dead.”
“No, they’re not.” He hesitated, and then said, “After Mom and Dad died, the Fanelsens took me to court. They disputed the terms of our parents’ wills, and sued for full custody of you and Gray.”
“You’re kidding.”
He shook his head. “Mom’s family has a lot of money and influence, and their lawyer was very convincing about quality of life you would have with them.” His mouth flattened. “But I knew how they’d treat you. The same way they treated Mom: badly.”
I thought of how unhappy my mother had sounded in her letters. “So that’s why Mom and Dad dumped us on you.”
“Our parents wanted me to be your guardian because they knew I loved you both, and that I’d work hard to provide you with a good home,” he said, his gaze growing softer and a little sadder. “But when they died, I was still pretty young myself. At the time the only thing I owned was a motorcycle. I worked in an entry position in my company and I lived in a one-room apartment. My lawyer told me upfront that it was hopeless.”
I felt appalled. “How did we end up with you?”
“Our grandparents never came to court, even after they were ordered by the judge to appear.” Trick’s expression turned contemptuous. “Their lawyer kept making excuses, saying they were traveling in Europe and couldn’t be reached, but after he was given two extensions and they still didn’t show, the judge finally lost his patience. He upheld the terms of the wills and awarded me full custody.”
“Good.” I blew out a breath. “I don’t get why they wanted custody of us anyway. I mean, I don’t remember ever meeting them.”
“You never have,” Trick said flatly. “After our parents got married, the Fanelsens immediately disowned our mother. They cut her out of their will, refused to speak to her and wouldn’t even let her on their property.”
I felt a little shocked. “They really didn’t like Dad. Okay, so if they hated Mom for marrying him, why sue for custody of us?”
“A few years after Mom married Dad, her brothers were killed in an accident,” he told me. “Our grandparents didn’t have an
y other living family except her. When she died, you and Gray and I became the last of the Fanelsens.” He said their name like it was a swear word, then sighed and checked his watch. “It’s getting late. We’ll talk more about this later.”
After that we walked back to the house I offered to get my mother’s letters, but Trick told me I could keep them. He also promised to talk to Gray about our grandparents.
“I do have to ask one more thing,” I said before I went upstairs. “Are Gray and I grounded forever?”
“No.” He looked in the direction of my brother’s room. “He has football practice, and I’m not going to his games by myself.” He kissed my cheek. “Now go to bed. You look ready to collapse.”
I went up to my room feeling relieved and satisfied. I was happy for Gray and glad that Trick had fought our grandparents for custody of us. I couldn’t imagine growing up in the Fanelsen’s house the way my mother had, with private tutors and servants and mandatory hunting trips. I’d have hated that life as much as she had. I was too tired to read any more of the letters, but I didn’t feel the need to hurry anymore. Whatever she wrote, I knew the truth about my grandparents now. They’d tried to split up our family, probably just to get back at our mother for defying them.
As I pulled back the covers, I looked over at the window, which was closed. Hopefully I was too tired to have another weird dream about the dark boy, because I really didn’t want to. I’d coped with enough stressful situations in one day to last me a couple of years.
Twelve
That night I didn’t dream or wake up to find my room in shambles; I fell on my bed and didn’t move again until my alarm clock went off the next morning. My brothers were in the kitchen by the time I went downstairs, and from their normal expressions I assumed they’d already talked, too.
Peace. It was a beautiful thing.
I was grateful that things at home were okay now because I still had to deal with the problems at school. Problems I expect would be made worse by Gray being picked as first-string quarterback. Then there was the dark boy, and trying to forget about him.
Although I was happy for Gray, and glad that Trick wasn’t angry anymore, I didn’t feel so great. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jesse Raven. Before, every time I saw a tall boy, or one with black hair, I’d thought of him. Now I didn’t even need reminders. I looked at the rising sun, and thought of his face in the moonlight. I gathered up my books, and remembered how gently he’d handled a flower. I brushed my hair, and my fingers tingled with the memory of the liquid silkiness of his. I breathed in, and my nose expected to smell dark, sweet spices.
I had to get over him. He’d become the shadow of all my thoughts, a ghost who haunted my heart. Maybe I needed to treat him like an addiction: see if I could go one day without thinking of him, and then go another, and another. It would have helped if there had been a twelve-step program to follow: Dark Boys Anonymous. Raven Recovery. Freedom from Jesse.
Would I ever be free of him?
When I walked into my first class I couldn’t help looking for Boone, but his seat was empty and stayed that way for the whole period. The other kids still whispered and looked at me, but a couple of them already knew about Gray making the team, and offered me some odd forms of congratulations.
“I heard your brother’s our new quarterback,” one guy who sat in the row next to mine murmured. “Hope he’s insured.”
“My boyfriend told me Grayson made the team,” another girl said to me in the hall between classes. “I mean it’s great, but when Boone comes back … ” She tried to smile. “Maybe you should talk your brother into playing another position.”
Even the teachers seemed more anxious than happy about Gray. “Your brother put on a quite a show at tryouts,” Mrs. Kelsey said. “But football isn’t the only team sport at our school, you know. There’s baseball in the spring, soccer, tennis … maybe one of those might appeal more to him.”
“I think he’s only interested in football, ma’am,” I said politely.
She looked pained. “Well, do give him my best wishes for a successful, ah, season.”
By the time I got to lunch I was fed up with everyone’s gloomy predictions. Barb didn’t show up, but Ego came to the table and bent over three times before sitting next to me.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“I bow to you, oh sister of the mighty Grayson Youngblood,” he replied. “Strong of arm, clear of eye, damaged of brain.”
“My brain is damage-free, thanks.” I handed him the extra apple I’d packed for him. “Unless you’re talking about my brother, of whom I am extremely fond.”
“I meant him,” Ego said. “If I were you I’d spend as much time with him as you can before Boone’s ankle heals enough for him to come back to school. That way you’ll have some good memories.”
“Boone isn’t going to do anything to Gray.” I heard the sound he made and turned on him. “All right, what have you heard?”
“Nothing, nothing.” He held up his hands. “I just know Boone. Unfortunately, since third grade. That was when I scored the final run and beat his team at kickball. He and his buddies jumped me after school. Don’t make me describe how badly they kicked my butt. It’ll ruin your lunch.”
I sighed. “He’s not going to go after Gray, not when he’s limping around in a cast.”
“His ankle was sprained, not broken,” Ego said, and polished the apple on his sleeve. “Barb called me last night with an update. She’s skipping school today because she’s not feeling well. She’s not sick enough to miss getting her daily dose of Aaron news, of course.”
Knowing Boone wouldn’t be in a cast made me uneasy. “Still, even with a sprain, he’ll be on crutches for a while, right?”
“On crutches and surrounded by a dozen of his jock friends. You know, the guys who would do anything for him.” Ego took a bite of the apple and then shook it at me. “The baboon, he does not like to lose. Remember this, chica.”
I shrugged off Ego’s unsubtle warning, or thought I did until I caught myself looking for my brother in the halls. Boone might’ve been absent, but his friends weren’t. What if he’d asked them to ambush my brother? I hardly ever saw Gray during school, and I couldn’t remember his schedule. I couldn’t go to the school nurse and ask if my brother had come in to be treated for a beating.
My last two classes seemed to go on forever until the bell finally rang. A teacher yelled at me for running down the hall, but I didn’t stop until I got to Gray’s truck.
I stood waiting and watching for him, but he didn’t show. I started checking my watch and counting minutes, first ten, then fifteen. Where was he?
“Cat.”
I shrieked and whirled around to see Gray standing on the other side of the truck. His clothes weren’t torn. His face wasn’t bruised. His hair wasn’t even messed up. I could have killed him.
“Where have you been?” I demanded.
“I had to go to the gym to pick out my number.” He unlocked his door. “I told you this morning.”
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t say a word.” When he reached across to unlock my door, I yanked it open. “Are you going to be late like this every day?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Because next time I’m just taking the bus home, and you can stand here and wait forever.”
“I thought I told you.” He gave me a wary look. “Sorry.”
I didn’t accept his lousy apology or speak to him again until we got close to home. “Boone doesn’t like to lose,” I said. “Everyone at school says he’s going to come after you for this.”
“Let him.” Gray sounded totally unconcerned.
“His friends will help,” I snapped. “You know, all the friends he has on the football team. That’s what, like ten or twenty jocks? Some as big as you?”
“Two,” my brother said. “Neither of them are my size. The rest of the guys on the team are tired of Boone’s ego. They don’t want him back.”
I huffed out
some air. “I suppose they told you that.”
“Couple of them did.” He made the turn onto our driveway. “I have practice two days a week after school, and the team doesn’t go home on Friday until after the game. If you don’t want to ride the bus, Trick can probably pick you up.”
I didn’t care if I had to walk home every day. “Are you really sure this is worth it?”
“Yeah.” He put the truck in park and turned to me. “Trick said you talked to him about it last night. You told him to trust me. So why can’t you do the same?”
“I trust you,” I muttered. “It’s Boone. And everyone else.” I glanced at him. “So what number did you pick?”
“Three.”
“Went with your I.Q. huh?” I nodded. “Good idea. But are you sure you can count that high?”
“Brat.” He made a rusty, rumbling sound that might have been a laugh. “It’s for the three of us.”
He’d picked out his number to remind him of his family. It was touching, and the kind of sneaky thing Gray liked to do, and I couldn’t resist needling him a bit as we got out of the truck. “Aw, that’s so sweet. Can I draw three little hearts in hot pink marker on your jersey?”
“Only if you want me to hurt you,” he said as he followed me inside.
After dinner I resisted thoughts of the dark boy by trying to call Barb and see how she was feeling. Her mother answered the phone, but after I asked for her she told me that Barb had already taken some medicine and gone to bed.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Will she be able to come to school tomorrow, Mrs. Riley?”
“I don’t know.” Her mother’s voice sounded strained. “I’ll have to see how she’s feeling in the morning. Thank you for calling.” She hung up before I could say anything else.
Barb’s mother didn’t sound very friendly, but she was probably worried about her daughter. I jotted down a note to pick up Barb’s schoolwork if she were absent tomorrow; Gray could drive me over to her house after school to drop it off.
Before I took my shower I went out to the barn to muck out Sali’s stall and spread some fresh straw for her. As chores went this was one of the nastiest, and the smell of horse manure and urine grew stronger every time I pitched another layer of dirty straw into the barrow. But once, when I’d griped about it, Trick had asked me how I’d feel if I had to stand in a dirty toilet all day. I’d never complained about it since.