Chapter Nine
The next week passed in a blur. I went to work, I hung out with Carley and Nick, and I tried to sleep. The only problem was that sleep was harder and harder to come by. I would lie awake in bed for hours thinking about what Holt had said to me. His face saying over and over that he could no longer see me loomed large in my mind.
I wondered if he hated me. I'd go to work hoping that he'd come in and get another coffee, but he never did. When I saw Samuel, he always gave me an assessing glance, like he was trying to figure out how I was doing. Normally it would have annoyed me, but I was too sad about Holt to pay much attention.
At one point my mom called and told me that she and my dad still hadn't figured out if they were going to divorce, and we got into an argument. It only made everything worse. Carley would ask me what was wrong and why I wasn't seeing Holt, but I didn't want to tell her, so I'd just blow off her questions.
I ended up going to work and spending the rest of my time at home watching TV. After the fourth night of doing that I decided I had to get out of the house. It was almost dark, but I really wanted to take a walk. Part of the reason I hadn't wanted to go outside was because of Lydia and Leslie, but if Holt didn't want to have anything to do with me anymore, then there was no way they were going to come around and threaten me. They'd already gotten what they wanted.
I unstuck myself from the couch, grabbed my black jacket against the night chill, and banged out the front door. I'd thought as the days went on that I'd start to feel better, that the pain I felt whenever my mind had a free moment would start to subside. But it hadn't happened. Instead I'd been upset and miserable for days now. It was starting to strain my relationship with Carley, because she was so sick of me moping around the house. I was sure getting some fresh air would help.
Outside, I made a game of kicking every rock I passed, watching it skid along the dirt and disappear into the warm green grass. I wanted to call Holt, or just go over to the Roths'. It was torture seeing their house so close. Every time I passed it, I worried that I'd see him, or I fantasized that he'd be coming out of the house just as I was going to work and he'd see me and realize his mistake.
Fat chance. Instead, each time I passed I made every effort to stay hidden. I looked like crap anyway, and seriously, if he saw me he'd probably just smile, nod, and give me a sympathetic look.
I wanted to talk to him, but since he had asked for his space I didn't know what to say. My calling him wouldn't exactly be giving him space. He had said that it was for my own good, but I couldn't help thinking that I'd felt better before he'd told me he didn't want to see me, not after, so how it was for my own good was beyond me.
I was so absorbed in kicking rocks and feeling sorry for myself that I wasn't really paying any attention to where I was going. By the time I looked up and looked around, I was still on a dirt road, but I was now surrounded by woods. I looked over my shoulder, back the way I had come, and couldn't remember what turns I had taken. Ahead of me I saw nothing but more woods and more dirt, and the darkness was thickening.
Without thinking about it I decided to keep going forward. I had to reach signs of Castleton eventually, and I wasn't tired yet. Besides, no one was at home to miss me.
Carley had told me about the roads around Castleton, but I guess I hadn't really been listening, because at that moment I couldn't remember anything she had said. I looked around for any road signs or landmarks I might recognize, but the further I got down the road the more I had to admit to myself that I had no idea where I was.
I was also getting tired, and now it was just plain dark out there. I hadn't even brought a flashlight, and I realized now that I didn't have my phone, either. I hadn't wanted to be tempted to text Holt, and I knew that if I had the phone with me I'd be looking at it every two seconds to see if he had texted me. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. This was yet another thing I had to deal with, and I didn't feel like I had the energy. Worse, I had brought it on myself. I could have just stayed home, comfortable and warm on the couch.
The one thing I did know was that the smell of salt water was getting stronger, which meant that I was walking toward, or along, the ocean. Maybe if I got to the water I would be able to tell where I was. This was a state of lighthouses, and I knew there was one in Castleton. If I walked toward it, maybe I could get to a bigger road, perhaps even one that was paved.
After walking a few more steps I broke through the trees. The ocean looked different at night. There was a cool breeze blowing, ruffling the water, and the moon cast one long, white line over the otherwise black surface. Unfortunately, directly in front of me wasn't a beach, as I had hoped. Instead, I was at the top of a cliff.
I hated heights. I decided instantly that I hated them even more at night. The wind was stronger coming off the water, and I zipped up my jacket against the cold air.
I sighed. I would have to get closer to the edge to get a better view of the beach so that I could figure out where I was. As I looked out at the silent water, my mind went back to the aching feeling that was lodged in my chest.
Down the beach to my right I saw nothing but jagged rock, but to my left I saw sand. It looked a lot like part of the beach where Carley, Nick, and I had spent my first full day at Castleton hanging out with Samuel.
Ugh. I didn't even want to think about the rude Samuel who thought that sarcasm was his middle name and liked it that way. I glared out at the water. I was tired of feeling sorry for myself. Taking a deep breath, I knew I'd have to walk to the left, toward what looked like beach, and hope for the best. Just as I was about to leave the cliff I heard a low growling behind me. I froze.
I was in the middle of the woods in Maine and lots of things could be growling. But what popped into my head was a flesh-devouring wolf. Instantly I could imagine huge paws taking swipes at me and angry jaws snapping to sink into my skin. I shuddered.
As I gathered the courage and turned to face whatever was behind me I heard another snarl, only this one was much closer.
I gasped as I saw not a wolf, but a great big bear lumbering toward me. In the split second when I saw the massive animal, everything else left my mind. Forgetting where I was a took a step backwards. Too late I felt my foot catch on loose gravel and then start to slide backwards. I tried to catch myself, but I couldn't, I'd already shifted my weight.
Panic washed over me. I started to scream as I felt myself toppling over the edge of the cliff. I flailed wildly, desperately trying to keep my body from falling into the ice cold water.
I had only one thought: I didn't want to die. I didn't want to plunge into the dark ocean and be pulled away by the tide. It was the first real feeling I'd had since Holt had told me that we couldn't see each other anymore. I scrabbled wildly with my hands, but to no avail. All I could do was scream.
And then suddenly a cold hand wrapped around my wrist. My body jerked as my momentum toward the dark water was stopped. I gave another cry as I was pulled forward, my feet gradually finding firm ground under me.
Before I could even think, I was face to face with Samuel, his blue eyes dark against the night, his face paper white. Since our bodies were pressed together I could feel that his breath was coming fast into his chest. His grip on my arm was painful. He was afraid.
Always one to rise to the occasion, my fabulously intelligent first words after Samuel saved my life were, "Hi."
He took several more deep breaths before answering. I became painfully aware of all of the places where we were touching.
"Are you okay?" he asked, finally pulling away and looking me over. I blushed at the way his eyes traveled up and down my body.
"I'm fine," I said. "I think." As I looked into Samuel's eyes I remembered why I'd almost plunged off a cliff: a bear. Suddenly panicked all over again, I looked beyond Samuel's shoulder to see where the bear was now. There was nothing there.
"Where'd it go?" I asked, looking around at the trees that were now draped in shadow.
&n
bsp; "Where'd what go?" Samuel asked, still not releasing his grip on my arm, but loosening it ever so slightly. His hands gently started to stroke up and down my arms, making me shiver, but not from cold.
I looked at him incredulously.
"The bear," I said, like it was obvious.
"I didn't see a bear," he replied calmly.
"Are you saying I'm crazy?" I wanted to know.
"Maybe, but not because of that," was his ever so smooth reply.
"Sarcastic as ever," I muttered. "Wait, what are you doing here?"
"I missed you, too," he continued, even now not letting up with the sarcasm.
"No you didn't," I said. "I haven't seen you since you attacked Holt and me at the restaurant," I said.
Samuel's face darkened. "We didn't attack you."
I knew he was right, but tonight I'd gone from feeling nothing at all, to being completely numb, to being scared. I wanted to pick a fight.
"Whatever," I told him, pulling out of his grasp. He let me go, his hands falling to his sides.
"What are you doing here?" I asked again.
He held my gaze for a split second, but all he said was, "I was taking a walk and heard you scream."
I looked toward the water. Instantly I felt queasy, panicked all over again, and looked away. "No you didn't. You couldn't have gotten to me in time if that's what happened. No one's that fast."
"No one you know," he countered.
"Plus, who takes walks alone at night?" I continued. Anger was a welcome fizz in the back of my mind as I braced my hands on my hips.
"Only crazy people, apparently," Samuel said with a grin.
"Hey!" I said, realizing too late that I had walked right into that one. "Really, what were you doing out here?"
"Nothing," was his next elaborate reply.
"Right," I said. "I'm beginning to think no one in this town tells the truth about anything."
"You want the truth?" Samuel asked, taking a step toward me.
This time I knew enough not to step backwards, although something inside me told me that Samuel would catch me if I did.
"I always want the truth," I told him, lifting my chin defiantly.
He nodded. "I can tell that about you," he said. But I couldn't tell if he thought that was a good thing or not. "Come on, I should get you home."
"How do you know I can't find my way home on my own?" I asked. I don't know why I did, because I was totally lost, but I felt like arguing and Samuel had been so mean.
He looked at me with disgust. "First of all," he started, "you are clearly lost, which is fine. If you walk into woods and don't pay attention to where you're going, that is what's likely to happen. But," he continued before I could argue, "I don't care how safe Maine or this area is, I'm not leaving a girl to walk home alone, especially in the dark."
That stopped me. It was surprisingly gallant of him, even if I'd die before admitting it.
"I can take care of myself," I informed him, even though I knew I had lost this argument.
"Clearly," he said, for his third sarcastic comment in as many minutes. Without another word he turned around and started walking back toward the woods. I glared at his back for a moment, then hurried to keep up with him.
For the first few minutes, the only thing that broke the silence was the noise of different animals hooting or scuffling around in the forest. If I'd been alone they might have scared me. I would have imagined a robber jumping out of the bushes or the return of the bear, but walking next to Samuel I felt totally safe. It wasn't a feeling I was used to, and one I'd never thought I'd have when I was with him, but there was something very confident and strong about the guy walking next to me. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was beginning to think he might not be as terrible as he had seemed at first.
After a while I got tired of the silence. "So, I'll play along. What were you doing out walking?"
"Clearing my head," he drawled, not looking at me.
"Feel bad about what happened at the restaurant?" I asked. Because I felt bad about it.
"Nope," said Samuel. He hadn't even hesitated, I noticed. He didn't even care if he appeared sorry or not.
"Awesome," I muttered. "Do you feel bad about ANYthing?"
Samuel gave me a startled look. "In respect to you?" he asked.
I had thought he would avoid the question, so when he answered it head-on I was at a loss for words. Finally, I stammered out, "Yeah . . ."
The moment where Samuel might have actually said something serious passed as quickly as it had come. He shrugged and looked ahead again.
"You could just get along with him, you know," I said irritably. I was now cold and tired and my grateful attitude toward Samuel for getting me home safely was wearing off.
"I could do lots of things," Samuel countered. We'd reached Carley's driveway, so obviously I knew the way from there. I was embarrassed to admit how close we'd been to the road the whole time. I really hadn't been that lost.
"Samuel Cheshire, you are one of the most annoying people I have ever met," I stated, and without another word I stomped away. Since I left without turning back I couldn't be sure, but there's a good chance Samuel stood at the end of Carley's driveway, laughing.