“What do you think?” he asked, trying to make his voice as casual as possible. He failed epically.
“Your color choice is unusual,” she intoned distractedly. “Do you always use black and white?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting . . .” she muttered without looking up.
Nick tried again. “So, what do you think?”
“Is all your work done in charcoal?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Kate was examining one of the drawings so closely that her nose rubbed the paper. Her body curled tightly around the sketchbook, as if protecting it from a storm. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe the storm was around them, and the sketchbook was the only thing she had to hold onto.
“Kate?”
This time, she didn’t bother to answer. Resigned to waiting, Nick straightened his legs and leaned back against the headboard. The corporate scent of laundry detergent, fresh linen, and air freshener lay flat and stale on his taste buds. The hotel room was boring in its stereotypes: dull, flowery paintings, striped beige wallpaper, color-coordinated floral textiles in every shade of pastel.
A heavy weight fell onto his lower thighs. It was Kate’s head. She had stretched out on her back, the sketchbook propped against the triangle of her legs.
Life was a miracle, with her lying so close to him. While she studiously inspected his drawings, Nick took the opportunity to unabashedly examine every contour of her face. He committed her to memory: the sweeping dip of her brow, the gentle slope of her forehead, the deep hollow of her eyes, and the sharp ridge of her cheekbones. The moment was timeless. It could have lasted for a minute or an hour. Nick found himself lost in her face, constantly stumbling across new features or blemishes. Every piece of her was gorgeous, each imperfection adding tenfold to her beauty.
“Nick?” her whisper cut through the silence.
“Yes?” Without thinking, his fingertips brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. Her skin emblazoned his fingers with a rush of warmth and light.
“Why are you so sad?”
“What?”
“Your drawings reek of sadness. What happened to you?”
“Nothing,” he half-growled, frantically pushing himself to his feet. “It’s getting late. I should go.”
He was halfway to the door before Kate’s strangled voice reached his ear. “Wait! I have something to show you . . .”
Chapter 8
“Are we almost there?” Nick wondered. They had been driving for almost twenty minutes.
“Stop asking questions,” Kate commanded.
They’d spent the drive listening to oldies music (Kate’s choice, not his). Although she didn’t know the words, Kate blasted her lungs out singing along. It sounded absolutely horrible. She urged Nick to join her, but he refused. Nick wasn’t the type for flamboyant self-expression. Actually, he wasn’t the type for self-expression at all.
“Stop being such a pussy,” she challenged him, laughingly imitating The Hornet.
Backed into a corner, Nick decided to save face. He did the only thing left to do . . . he started to sing.
It wasn’t really singing at all, but rather screaming at the top of his lungs. Neither of them knew the words, or even the tune, but they faked it spectacularly. Nick experienced the strangest feeling . . . he was actually having fun! Sure, he looked ridiculous, and sounded like fingernails on a blackboard. But then he realized something . . . no one actually cared!
A strange stretched feeling tingled from his cheeks. Nick realized he was smiling. From the way his face hurt, he’d probably been smiling unconsciously for the entire car ride.
He never wanted it to end.
*****
“Where are we?” Nick wondered as they stepped outside.
The woods were deep and marvelous with the hue of midnight. The colors of the day were muted; emerald became dark royal green. The tips of fir trees rose like spires against the horizon. The place was ancient and majestic . . . even though they were standing in a parking lot.
“Dash Point State Park,” Kate muttered. “Now come on!” She grabbed Nick’s hand and dragged him forward. Kate’s fingers were like icebergs, a stark contrast to her passionately fiery personality.
They began a blind walk through foreign forest.
“How can you see where you’re going?” Nick asked.
“I can’t,” Kate replied frankly.
“Then how–?”
“I can feel the pavement beneath my feet,” Kate explained, seeming to think this was obvious.
Curious, Nick felt for the concrete beneath the soles of his shoes. Kate was right! The ground below them did feel very pavement-y.
It felt as if they were the only people in the world. The forest rustled around them and whispered ancient secrets. The thick rustle of wings swooshed through the air above. The stars shone high and cold overhead.
Suddenly, the green giants spread out to frame an even greater majesty: the deep sapphire realms of the Puget Sound. The water rippled and danced, energetically following patterns of primeval secret. Moonlight stretched in a line of silver down the center, framed by the brilliant glisten of a million stars.
“A few years ago, I came here for the first time,” Kate whispered. “My family went camping half a mile away. I couldn’t sleep, so I grabbed a headlamp and followed the trail to this beach. In the daylight, it’s by no means a secret place. People flock here to enjoy the coast. But at night, it’s one of the loneliest places in the world. Whenever I need to escape, I just come here. Sometimes I doze off under the stars.”
“You must really trust me,” said Nick.
“Why?”
“You’ve shown me your secret place and told me your favorite childhood recollections. You’ve chosen to be in my company. For some strange reason, you seem to enjoy it.”
“Why is that so strange?”
Nick shrugged. “I’ve attacked you with my mouth, refused to tell you about myself, and snapped at you whenever you try to get too close. You have absolutely no reason to like me.”
“True . . . I have no reason to like you,” she grinned wickedly, winking dramatically in his direction. “But for some strange reason, I do. It must be the way you cock your head and really listen to what I say.” Self-consciously, Nick realized he’d been angling his entire head towards her mouth. She laughed as he grimaced in embarrassment. “Or maybe it’s your smile, an endangered specimen that rarely inhabits your face. When you smile, I know I’ve truly earned it.” Nick couldn’t help it . . . he smiled. Kate grinned, clearly haughty that her prediction was correct. Then she paused, and contemplated the depths of the horizon. Moonlight gave her face a silver surreal glow. “Why do I like you? Honestly Nick, it’s because you care. You care about what I have to say. You care about what I think and how I feel. Do you know how rare that is?”
Her skin was like vanilla in the moonlight, the smell of her mixing with the wilderness around them. Molten quicksilver shone across her irises. He looked into her eyes and, for once, he wasn’t scared. He leaned closer. She leaned closer. Their noses were touching now. The moment felt so intimate, as if every raw bit of him were exposed in the starlight. She was so close that he could feel their heat waves dancing and mingling in the air between them. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long second, drawing from their depths the need to be close, the need to be loved. When their lips met, Nick imagined all was right with the world.
Then, Kate collapsed to the ground in front of him.
He tingled with hurt, but hid it well. Instead, he forced out a laugh. “Very funny, Kate. Am I really that bad at kissing?”
No response.
This joke was lasting a bit too long. An arrow flaming with fear shot through his bubble of happiness. He leaned over. “Kate? Are you okay?”
No response.
Chapter 9
She had fallen awkwardly, her legs splayed wide, one arm bent at an unnatural angle. Her ma
sk of strength had fallen off. Without it, she looked heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.
Nick started shaking. Teeth chattering, body quaking, he was unsurprised when the black curtain draped over his eyes and dragged him into the void of darkness.
Endlessly, the journey dragged on. The sounds filled the car, alien and inhuman in their wretchedness. The body quivered beside him, shivering and convulsing. Suddenly, it stopped. Hopelessness was his only companion.
Kate. The name sprang before his eyes, even as he plunged deeper and deeper into the black hole of death. At first, it was all he could do to hold onto it, like a life-preserver or shooting star. Then, it became a lifeline. He dragged himself upward, agonizing step by agonizing step. Somehow, he managed to break the icy surface of the darkness and re-emerge into the terrors of reality.
Hours of CPR training kicked in. He checked her pulse. Her hand was as cold as a rock. Good news: she had a pulse! Bad news: it was very faint.
He checked Kate’s forehead, comparing her temperature to his own. The difference was startling. Terror overcame him again, the bone-wrenching blackness breaking thickly overhead. He fought it with all his strength, and somehow managed to re-surface. He could barely keep the darkness at bay. He could feel it fighting with icy clutches to overcome his body.
He stripped off his jacket, ignoring the freezing winter air that washed over him. He wrapped the jacket around her.
He had to get her to safety, and quickly. Nick knew this with absolute certainty. He had to find the concrete path, even though it was completely obscured by the depths of night.
It seemed impossible. He had to try.
He gently scooped her into his arms, taking great care not to violate her unconscious body. Although Kate was much taller than him, she weighed next to nothing. Beneath her layers, her figure was nothing but a pile of kindling. He hugged her to him, trying to feed her the warmth from his body.
Hours of grueling training paid off. He held her easily, focusing all his attention on the texture of ground beneath his feet. He shivered with cold, whether from fear of the night he could not tell.
The walk was eternity. Hopelessness overcame him in waves. Still, he marched onwards.
He had no idea how much time had passed. He just kept moving, one step at a time.
Hard, flat, sturdiness emblazoned out from beneath his feet. It was the path!
He walked quickly. He did not worry about running into trees or straying from the path. He trusted himself. It terrified him.
The darkness weighed on him like a heavy cloak. It was both real and imagined, a horrifying melding of fear and reality. He pictured his shoulders stooping beneath its clutches, the breath stolen from his lungs, the strength stolen from his limbs.
He kept moving onwards.
That was all he could do.
Chapter 10
“Nick?” Kate’s voice broke through the penetrating silence. Even in the horrifying and dire circumstances, Nick felt a secret thrill of pleasure that his name was the first word to come to her lips. “What happened?” she asked weakly. “Where am I?”
“We were talking on the beach, and then you passed out. Now, we’re walking to your car.”
“Oh my god. I passed out when we kissed, didn’t I? I’m sorry, I have horrible timing!” That was Kate, looking for humor in every situation. She didn’t seem surprised about fainting, which Nick found greatly disturbing.
“Kate, you don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your choice.”
“Where are you taking me?” she suddenly demanded.
“We’re going to the car, because that’s where I left my cell phone. Then, I’m calling 911.”
“No, you aren’t!” she exclaimed with sudden harshness.
“What?” Nick asked incredulously. “Kate, you just lost consciousness for a long time. Clearly, you need medical help.”
“I. Am. Not. Taking. An. Ambulance,” she declared. Nick was astounded by the vehemence in her voice. This was a side of Kate that he’d never seen.
“Kate, you have to go to the hospital.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Are you going to force me to go, no matter what?” Kate asked hotly.
“Yes,” Nick pressed his lips into a thin line. He quivered with resonating hurt at the way Kate was treating him. Still, he knew that getting medical attention was far more important than his own feelings and emotions. Besides, something else didn’t seem quite right. He had a strange suspicion that Kate wasn’t thinking clearly.
“Fine. Then you have to drive me,” Kate commanded.
“I can’t,” Nick said immediately.
The quivering steering wheel flashed before his eyes. The noises beside him tore up his ears and his heart.
Kate stiffened, clearly startled and hurt by his refusal. “Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
Silence overcame him. Some part of him ripped apart. He was damaged irreparably.
“I have a better idea. We can just go back to the hotel and pretend this never happened.”
“No.”
“Then drive me,” Kate challenged.
He had to agree, even though he was shredded by paralyzing terror at the prospect. His bones grew cold, his body thick and distressed. His skin grew numb, his blood congealed like concrete.
He wouldn’t fail. Not again.
*****
“Nick?”
“Yes?”
“Why did you refuse to drive me?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If you don’t talk about it,” she teased weakly, “I might lose consciousness just to escape the boredom.”
That sounded more like Kate. Still, he felt a surge of terror at her suggestion. What if boredom actually did make her lose consciousness? It was ridiculous, but he was scared and couldn’t think clearly.
“Fine. I’ll tell you,” he listened incredulously to the words coming out of his mouth. What was he thinking? If Kate heard his story, she would hate him forever. This was his deepest secret, the darkness that plagued his life, the guilt and the fear that were his constant companions.
“It was a weekend morning,” his voice quivered and sounded strangely hoarse. He couldn’t believe he was telling her this. It felt surreal, like both a nightmare and a dream. “I heard coughing downstairs. It was horrible, like a gagging cat or a screaming baby. I rushed down the stairs. My mom was crouched over, her face red, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. I should have called 911. I didn’t think. Instead, I just stuck her in the car and sped towards the emergency room. She died just as we reached the hospital.”
“I’m so sorry Nick,” Kate’s voice was so sympathetic that it hurt. “I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot, but I really mean it. You did the right thing. You brought her to the emergency room. It sounds like she would have died in the ambulance, anyways.”
“No, she wouldn’t. Kate, you don’t understand. It was my fault! My mom choked to death. If I’d known the Heimlich maneuver, or called an ambulance, she would have been just fine. I was the only one who could have saved her. I failed.”
“It was just a horrible twist of fate,” Kate insisted. “It’s not your fault that you never learned the Heimlich maneuver, or that your brain wasn’t crystal clear in the middle of a life-or-death crisis.” Nick waited for the hate, the dislike, and the mistrust to creep into her voice. Miraculously, it didn’t.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Nick said bitterly. “You’re hiding it well, but I’m sure I completely repulse you right now. That’s exactly why I never told anyone.”
“You never told anyone?” she asked incredulously. “Come on Nick, don’t your friends and family know about your mom’s death?”
“No,” Nick stated frankly. “They don’t. My dad hushed it up pretty quickly. I haven’t talked about it since.”
“You don’t talk about it with your dad?”
“Nope.”
/> “Oh my god.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it with me?”
“No.”
She looked hurt. He pretended not to care.
Chapter 11
The doctor looked gravely up at him. Nick waited for him to deliver the verdict.
Kate was dead. He knew it. The white-coated stranger looked so grim, so uncomfortable and unhappy. There could only be one explanation.
The doctor opened his mouth and prepared to drop the bomb.
Nick waited for the world to end.
“Kate has an eating disorder,” the doctor declared.
Nick’s mouth fell open. How could the world’s most adamant feminist have body image issues? How could a girl who was filled with natural beauty see herself as fat and imperfect? How could the strongest girl he’d ever known allow herself to starve?
*****
Uncomfortable silence hung in the air around them. It draped like spider webs over his lips, and tangled like chains to block the void between them.
Nick felt like a stranger. The girl he thought he knew was an illusion, an actress filled with a time-bomb of self-destruction. He felt weighed down by an indescribable sadness. He ached with sympathy for Kate, and for the suffering that must have weighed on her night and day.
“How are you?” he asked, the question seemingly shallow and insufficient.
Kate smiled weakly. “I’ve been better.”
“How . . . ? I don’t understand . . . ?” Nick tried to frame a question that would convey his emotions, but the task seemed impossible.
Kate laughed hoarsely and without smiling. The sound was a horrible mutilation of the familiar loud and jubilant laughter. “You want to know the truth,” she translated bitterly. “You want to know how a crazy feminist could become anorexic.”
“Yes.”
“I have to warn you. It’s a story of sadness and imperfection, a story of failures and falsehoods.”
Nick walked awkwardly forward, jolting occasionally to a halt as if to gauge her fragile reaction to his closeness. After a tense moment, he finally sat down beside her. He made a move as if to grab her hand, and then changed his mind.