“I was worried about you,” Cassie said when I walked through the door.
Water from my clothes dripped all over her shaggy, hot-pink rug. Amazingly enough, she had transformed the blank room into a miniature reflection of home. She opened a drawer and handed me a soft, white towel.
“Thanks,” I said, making good use of her offering.
I peeled my shirt off first. An unopened banana would have been more comfortable than me with my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin like this.
She sat solemnly on her bed, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Rayla. I just don’t know how to deal with what happened. I know you think that you saw a p-p…”
“Pegasus,” I finished for her. I locked my knees and waited for her to confess that she had been too afraid to talk about it.
“Yes, well, I think it was just a trick of the light. That guy was trying to scare us.”
I narrowed my eyes, claiming her gaze. No matter how much I had tried to convince myself otherwise, the man in the woods had not been normal. I had already had enough time to be sure he was the motorcyclist. Even with all my doubts, I couldn’t deny the effect he had on me. “I know what I saw.” She could deny it all she wanted, but what that guy had done couldn’t have been smoke and mirrors.
At least she was admitting she had seen him now. It was a start.
Her expression didn’t change. She still had that mechanical smile on when she climbed down the ladder. “You’ll realize I’m right over time. It was an isolated incident.” Her solid tone made me wonder if she was trying to convince herself. “There isn’t anything to worry about.”
Not believing how lame she was being, I stood rigidly in front of her. She thought this was simply going to go away. I wished she was right, but it wasn’t likely that man would leave me alone. He followed us here for heaven’s sake. “That’s just it. It might not be an isolated incident.”
She scowled. “What are you saying, Rayla?”
I motioned toward the window. “I had a guy just about accost me in the woods.” I might have been exaggerating slightly. Who knew what he would have done if he had gotten his hands on me, but I needed her to tell me what she knew about this whole mess. I shuddered, thinking about what might have happened if Natalie hadn’t come along when she did.
Cassie leaned against the door-jam to the bathroom, crossing her arms. “What were you doing out in the woods?”
I grunted in disgust. She was avoiding the obvious. “Can’t you think of a better question than that?” The last thing I wanted was for Cassie to leave, but I had to have answers. If Aunt Grace was right, Cassie had some information to share.
Instead of answering me, she ducked into the bathroom for a minute and came out with a tissue. Pointing to my nose, she handed it to me. I wiped and blew. What, now she was my mother? Despite my irritation, I nodded my thanks. She climbed back up to the top bunk.
With conflicting thoughts almost visible in her eyes, she turned toward me. “It was probably—”
“Sure,” I said. “I know what you’re going to say. He was probably some Notre Dame student that got caught in the rain.” Hadn’t that been what I had first thought about him? But he was more than an ordinary man. No guy had ever caused such emotion in me, as if he was meant for me. No, that wasn’t right—it was more like I was meant for him.
Cassie’s justification attempts bubbled my insides to a slow boil. I continued without giving her a chance to butt in, “Or maybe my nerves are frazzled right now? This one is even better. I’m imagining things.” I poised my hand in front of me and motioned as I said, “Blah. Blah. Blah!”
“Rayla!”
Her gaze on me might as well have been a laser beam. I hadn’t meant to be so rude, but she was making me crazy with her denial. I worked on toweling my hair while I raised a questioning look to her. “You know something more about this.” I tried to swallow the hurt choking my throat. How could she betray the unspoken rules of our friendship like this? “Why won’t you help me?”
She cringed, splaying her hands wide. “It’s going to be okay,” she said in a rush. “We don’t need to worry about it. You’ll see. They will go away.” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. With shaking fingers she ran her other hand through her midnight ringlets. She looked as guilty as a dog caught tipping over the garbage.
“Say too much, did you?”
Keeping her eyes downcast, she played with the edge of her new quilt. “I should just go home. I can’t get involved in this stuff again.”
“What stuff? Tell me what’s going on!”
Her expression scrunched in clear pain. “I can’t.” Her deadly quiet voice chilled me.
“More like, won’t. I thought you were my best friend. I need the truth! Am I in danger?”
Without so much as a sound, she leapt from the top bunk and bolted out the door.