***
Friday came too soon. After showering from basketball practice, I escaped the house as fast I could, still hearing my sophomore sisters swooning over the idea that I was going on a date with Shane. Mom seemed pleased that I finally had Friday night plans again.
Dressed in black cords and a green sweater that scooped around her neck, highlighting her defined collarbones, Tara finished applying her final strokes of blush. Her reflection smiled at me as she spun around, her lips painted in burgundy lip gloss. She eyed my skinny jeans and grey sweater.
“I hope you brought a coat,” she said, slipping into knee-length boots. “It’s gonna be cold outside!” I glanced out the window into the dimming light.
“You still haven’t told me where we are going,” I said. “And I have a feeling it’s because I probably don’t want to go.” I folded my arms, waiting for her to deny it.
She grinned, pulling my arm towards her bedroom mirror and seating me in the vanity seat. “We’re going to a corn maze.” She ignored my attempts to slap at her hand while she forced my eyelid closed with her makeup brush.
“A corn maze?” I frowned at the thought of being trapped in an oversized labyrinth with Tara and two guys I barely knew. “We are going to freeze! Do I need to remind you that you have no sense of direction?” I blinked at my reflection, catching the shimmering, smoky purple that Tara added to my eyes. I had to admit that the purple shadow did brighten my hazel iris. It also highlighted my disapproving glare.
“Well,” Tara said, knocking the clutter of makeup into her vanity drawer, “I wouldn’t mind getting lost with Austin for a while.” She grinned mischievously.
“Oh, come on, Tara,” I protested. “You are not running off with Austin and leaving me with Shane.” I barely knew the guy. I hoped he didn’t have any plans for hiding in a corner with me somewhere.
“Allie, you’ll be just fine. This is the last weekend the maze is even open, so just enjoy it!” The doorbell rang, interrupting Tara’s poor attempt to console me.
Austin and Shane stood in the entryway, both looking sharp in faded jeans and fitted, long-sleeved shirts.
“Ladies!” Austin greeted, his eyes brushing along Tara’s body as we descended the staircase. The confident way he carried himself demanded attention. His light-colored hair was cropped short on the sides, except for his perfectly gelled faux hawk. Shane smiled at me with a little more reserve, though everything else about him exuded the same self-assurance as his best friend. His shapely eyebrows accentuated his dark brown eyes. He, too, kept his black hair short, though gelled for texture in front.
“Thanks for picking us up,” Tara said, her smile pushing through to her high cheekbones. She grabbed a scarf and swirled it around her neck in a fashionable manner.
“You ready to do this?” Shane asked me as Tara and Austin led the way out the door.
“Of course,” I answered, too intimidated by his attractiveness to maintain eye contact for very long. My heart beat fast in my chest, nervous and unsettled. I hadn’t been out with a guy since before summer vacation, and I couldn’t help feeling like I was the odd one in the group, lacking the confidence that radiated off each of them. Perhaps last year I would have felt differently—like I belonged—but now… I second guessed myself and assumed the worst when eyes roved towards me.
The car ride was fairly painless, since Austin drove with the bass bumped so high that we couldn’t hold a conversation even if we wanted. Hip-hop blared from his speakers, rocking the inside of the car with upbeat sound waves. Shane and I sat in the back and the most we could do was holler a few superficial questions at each other, exchanging awkward smiles and head nods along the way. It was evident from the start that we were both going along for the ride for the sake of our best friends. We knew there was no interest between the two of us, despite Tara swearing up and down that she’d heard Shane asking about me.
We stopped at a diner for a quick bite to eat, ordering drinks and burgers. We started off with easy conversation, exchanging the woes of killer basketball practices this week and our excitement for the first game. I tried to hold up my end of the conversation, but I noticed Shane’s wandering eyes scoping out every cute girl that passed by our table, including the young waitress, her long legs suctioned to her tight pants. It wasn’t that I was jealous. So far, other than striking features and a toned body, he didn’t have much else to offer in personality—but whether I was interested or not, it never felt good to be on a date where the guy was checking out everyone else.
Tara and Austin hit it off, flirting back and forth, talking comfortably with one another. I really didn’t know why they needed Shane and me as an excuse to go out. They were doing just fine on their own.
When we arrived at the corn maze, the night air threatened to seep through our coats. Though I was somewhat used to the damp cold—having moved to Portland for my sophomore year, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of being stuck in this chilly air if we couldn’t find our way out of the maze quickly.
Tara clung to Austin’s elbow as he escorted her through the entrance. Shane and I followed behind, our efforts to find something to talk about dwindling. Two people could only talk so much about basketball and the weather.
“It’s spooky in here,” Tara commented after we had been walking for a minute. The dim lighting did cast odd shadows amid the tall cornstalks. “I love it!”
“Ever been through the corn maze when it’s haunted?” Austin asked, pausing as we came to a crossroads. He shrugged at our options and guided us to the right.
“We went last year,” I said, remembering the laughter and screams Tara and I had shared as we tore away from the scarecrow, who was hunting us down with his blaring chainsaw. I ended up tripping over a fallen cornstalk and cowering in a heap on the ground, while the scarecrow’s chainsaw came terrifyingly close to my torso. Tara laughed as she retold the story to Austin and Shane, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, too. Last year was full of memorable times, back when I had nothing to worry about and no heavy emotions weighing me down.
After ten minutes, we made some headway through the maze, though we’d also gone in circles a couple of times.
“How about we switch things up?” Austin asked, stopping at another intersection.
“What are you suggesting?” Shane asked.
Austin smiled at Tara. “I say we split up and make it a race to the end. Losers buy hot chocolate.”
I cringed inside, but not wanting to be a poor sport, nodded in agreement. Shane seemed equally reluctant, given his expression, but he agreed. “Game on, man. Get ready to be schooled!”
Tara grinned eagerly, still latched to Austin’s arm. “Catch you later, Allie.” She leaned into my side and whispered, “Don’t get too lost, if you know what I mean.” I rolled my eyes, pretty sure that Tara and Austin planned on taking their time through the maze tonight and doing just that. They took off to the left. Alone for the first time, Shane left the decision up to me. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. “Straight ahead or turn right?”
Home, I thought, but kept my true opinion to myself. I stifled a yawn, trying to hide my disinterest behind one hand. “I don’t know. You choose.”
Shane frowned, perhaps disappointed with my lack of enthusiasm. “Well, I don’t care either.”
We both stood there without speaking for a few moments. Awkward and no fun, there was little point to this date anymore. I’d had enough of this charade. “Ok, can we both just be honest about this for a minute?”
Shane raised his eyebrows at my sudden change in tone.
“Neither of us wants to be here—I think that’s fairly obvious.”
Shane motioned like he was about to object, but I cut him off.
“Seriously, it’s ok. You don’t have to pretend that you want to be here.” It’s not like you were doing a good job pretending anyway, I added in my head.
Shane folded his arms. “All right, so neither of us wanted to
come. Now what?”
I was a bit taken back by his statement, even though I had assumed it to be true. “First of all, why did you come then?” I asked, folding my own arms against the chill. I wobbled my legs back and forth to keep warm. Dark clouds were rolling in with the increasing wind, further darkening the maze and adding to the cold.
He hesitated with his response, scratching the back of his head as he glanced down the row of corn where Austin and Tara had disappeared. “Because,” he started, “I was a little bit interested in you,” he paused before adding, “last year.”
“Oh,” I murmured, interpreting what he meant. Last year, when I had it all together as a rising basketball star with cool friends who hadn’t tapered off from my life yet. I shook my head in dismay. So many people didn’t know how to respond to this aching part of me, so they just avoided me altogether—even guys like Shane who apparently had crushes on me—the old me. My eyes met Shane’s, and I tried not to feel hurt that I’d turned into someone less appealing, at least according to his words.
“So why did you come then?” Shane asked, his features showing his discomfort in our conversation.
“For Tara,” I said. “She thought it’d be easier to hang out with Austin if we tagged along, but—”
Shane finished my sentence. “—but they’re doing just fine without us.” He nodded. “Ok, I can appreciate the honesty. We, uh, are still stuck in this maze, so we better get moving if we want to get out of here.” He glanced at our options.
“Let’s just go this way.” Annoyed with the whole evening, I strut off with long strides.
“Hey, Allie—” Shane’s voice sounded contrite. He caught up to me, his footsteps moving quickly to keep up.
I could just kill Tara, I thought, blaming her for leaving Shane and me in an embarrassing situation.
“Just forget it,” I said, not wanting to hear any fake apologies—not that he had anything to apologize for. He was forced into this awkward situation, too. I was just irritated and embarrassed. Shane sighed, following just a step behind me. Directionless, we meandered through the corn maze. We hit more dead ends than anything and bumped into less people. At this point, we had probably hit the outskirts of the maze on the wrong side of the finish line.
Light rain began its descent, dampening our clothes with its gentle, but steady fall.
As if this night could get any worse.
After a few more minutes of uncertainty in our steps, Shane grabbed my arm, halting my movement. “I have an idea. We need to see where we are. Come on, climb up.” He lowered his body and offered me his back.
I raised an eyebrow. “What,” I began, “are you talking about? I’m not climbing on you. I play basketball—I don’t do cheerleading.” I observed the growing mud beneath my boots. “Besides, my boots are filthy.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about the mud. Just get over here. I’m going to lift you up so you can see where we’re at. We need a vantage point.”
I groaned, knowing he was right. This maze was taking forever and with the wrong company. I straddled his neck so that I sat on top of his shoulders. He held onto my legs to provide more balance. Standing up, his six-foot height propelled me into the air.
“Whoa!” I gripped the top of his head in my hands when I swayed backwards.
Shane grunted. “Can you try not to gouge my eyes out?”
“Oops, sorry.” Balanced at last, I removed my fingers from his face. Now that I could see above the cornstalks, I had an idea where we were. We had indeed cornered ourselves in the far side of the maze and needed to make our way up and to the left.
“Ok, I think we can do this,” I said, tapping Shane’s shoulder to signal for him to let me down. He bent his knees, and I slid off. “Let’s go this way.” I pulled his forearm after me, letting go once he followed.
“See, not a bad idea, right?” Shane stepped next to me as we moved.
“All right, I’ll give you that one,” I grudgingly said, though I smiled.
Shane returned a boastful grin and then glanced up at the sky, blinking away droplets. “We better pick up the pace.”
We were so far off track that we continued to cheat our way through the maze, Shane lifting me to his shoulders a few more times to speed up the process. The rain followed us, an unrelenting drizzle. As we closed in on the finish, I couldn’t help but let out a cry of satisfaction and joy.
“Yes, we made it!” I broke into a run, and Shane followed suit. Just as we rounded the corner, I lost my footing in a slick patch of mud and fell back onto my rear. I landed hard, mud sinking into my jeans.
I groaned, accepting Shane’s hand as he pulled me to my feet. Embarrassed, I examined my behind, swiping at the mud. A couple of people in the distance pointed and laughed. I scowled at them, only too familiar with those gestures.
“Of course this would happen. Just stupid, muddy, icing on the cake,” I grumbled under my breath. When I peeked at Shane to see if he was laughing too, my jaw dropped. He had removed his jacket and was in the process of pulling off his long-sleeved shirt.
“What are you—it’s raining!” I pointed out, thrown off when I caught sight of his toned torso dripping in front of me. He handed me his shirt.
“Here,” he offered, glancing at my mud-stained behind. “For your—err—”
“Oh… thanks.” I tied his sleeves around my waist so that his shirt covered my butt. I let out a laugh at the situation while Shane pulled his jacket back on, his body releasing a shiver. “Hot chocolate sounds pretty good right now,” I said. “I don’t care who’s buying!”
Shane chuckled. “Come on.” He placed his hand on my back to guide me forward. “Let’s get out of here.”
I sat up in bed, gasping. Damp with sweat, my oversized T-shirt clung to my skin. My eyes frantically scanned my surroundings, desperate to be calmed by familiarity.
My white, three-drawer dresser stood across the room, spilling its contents over the brim of each drawer. My phone and iPod lay on the desk. I felt the queen bed beneath me, the quilt and sheets twisting around my legs like snakes. With a shaky hand, I grabbed my phone. It was three in the morning.
My breathing slowed as I tried to forget the images from my reoccurring nightmare. I untangled the bedding from my body and slid off the mattress. Walking into the bathroom that joined my room with my twin sisters’, I peeked at them. Both were sound asleep in their separate beds, Taylor snoring softly. I envied their peaceful slumber, not remembering the last time I slept hard enough to snore. Gently, and with a muffled sigh, I closed the door and flipped on the bathroom light.
I groaned as I saw my reflection in the mirror. The dark layers of my hair curled around my narrow face in a wiry, tangled mess. The hint of green in my hazel eyes appeared paler this morning, dimmed and resentful at the forced awakening, and the dark smudges of yesterday’s makeup darkened the bags under my eyes.
Twisting the faucet, I let the cool water cascade from the spout onto my hands. Still dazed from perpetual lack of sleep, my mind zoned in on the falling water, eyelids heavy. The water sounded like a stream, rushing and gurgling. Or like a river… In the next moment, the water seemed thunderous in my ears, like a waterfall—overwhelming me, triggering the memories from my nightmare—or more accurately, from last summer’s reality.
Arms flailing, my head popped up, and I inhaled both air and water. Choking and sputtering, my lungs burned. The icy current absorbed my whole body once again as the river dipped, its cruel waters knocking me into hidden boulders. I bobbed up and down, a mere puppet in the water’s clutches. My bones and cold muscles ached for relief. My own cries echoed in my ears.
Catching hold of brush protruding from the embankment, my fingers weaved into the thick growth. I searched for her, my own grip slipping.
Then I heard Maddie’s scream…
“Allie! Honey, wake up!”
Maddie wasn’t screaming. I was screaming.
My eyes focu
sed on Mom and then I felt her firm grip on my left shoulder, while her other hand cupped my face.
“There you go. Good girl. You’re ok,” Mom said. “Everything is ok…”
I inhaled and exhaled too quickly, feeling light-headed while trying to divide the nightmare from memories—but the line was too thin.
“Slow down, honey. Deep breaths…”
I let out a sob and Mom pulled me close, wrapping her arms around me.
“I’ll get some water,” Leah said, a tired hand rubbing across her eyes. She exited her bedroom. It was only then that I realized the door connecting the bathroom to her bedroom was open. I pulled away from Mom, wiping my eyes and sucking back the tears. I saw Taylor sitting up in bed, her head resting on folded arms on top of her knees. I heard her release a soft groan.
My screams had woken up the household. Again.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, rubbing my face with both hands.
“Come on, Allie.” Mom guided me back to bed and straightened out my bedding.
With my tears sealed back in place, I said, “I’m fine, Mom. Sorry I woke everyone. Just go back to bed. I’m ok.” I put a hand on hers, trying to prevent her from fluffing my pillow anymore.
She sat down beside me. “Are you, Allie? Are you fine? Because I don’t think so.”
“Mom, please…” I knew where this was going.
“I don’t want to rush you through the process,” Mom said with a shake of her head, “but you need help. If you won’t talk to us, then you need to talk to a therapist or the school counselor… somebody.”
“Mom…” My eyes welled up, exhaustion and embarrassment catching up with me. I didn’t want to have this conversation again. I didn’t want to talk at all. If I had to speak about it, then that made it an issue, and I didn’t want to have issues. I just needed to believe it would all go away with time.
“Here, Allie.” Leah handed me a cup of water.
“Thanks,” I said, glad for the interruption.
“Sure. I’m going back to bed, ok? We have that sprint test today and if I’m going to compete with you, I need my sleep.” She offered a closed smile, followed by a yawn.
I nodded, and she returned to her room. Avoiding eye contact with Mom, I stared at the water in my cup. Silence grew between us until a quiet sigh from Mom made me glance at her.
She ran a hand through her blonde hair. “Allie, I’m trying to do the right thing here. How long do I let this go on? You can’t face this on your own.”
“I don’t need special help, Mom.” I could feel burning emotion growing inside, but I tried to smother it from within. “We all lost somebody. Maddie was Leah and Taylor’s cousin, too. She’s your niece. Why am I the only one that needs help?”
“You were in that river, too, Allie. I know you haven’t forgotten that.” She gestured towards the bathroom and back at me. “You obviously haven’t forgotten that. Maybe all these bad dreams are because you are keeping everything inside you. It’s not healthy!” Mom’s voice rose, touched with a quiver of tears. “We all love Maddie. We all miss her, and each of us has our bad days. But Allie—I don’t even know how to say this without making you feel bad—” Mom paused, looking towards my window for a moment. I swallowed the building lump in my throat, anticipating her words. “We are all hurting, and probably always will to some degree. But you are struggling more than anyone else is. I see you pulling away from everyone. I never thought I’d say this, especially with you leaving for college next fall… but I want you out of the house more! Why don’t you hang out with your friends? Why are you running so much? Why don’t you talk about basketball like you used to?”
I frowned, clenching the sheets in my fists. “I just need time. Just… more time. No one said I needed to get over Maddie’s death in five months.”
“I didn’t say get over it, Allie. But you can’t just let time pass and do nothing. Please, talk to somebody. To start with, at least hang out with your friends again. You need people in your life.” Mom paused before adding, “Your dad would kill me for encouraging this, but what about that boy from last night?”
She was getting desperate. I closed my eyes. I would not allow her to bring Shane or any other boy into this part of my life.
Mom released an audible breath. She spoke once more, softly and with a touch of surprise. “Allie, when did you take all your pictures off the wall?” I could hear the sadness in her voice—her disappointment.
Mom seemed to be waiting, watching… minutes passed, but I kept my eyes pulled shut until she left my room without another word. When I heard the door close, I sat up and stared at my mostly bare walls. There were a couple of posters of my favorite alternative rock bands and movies, but the photo collages that used to be taped across my wall were gone. I opened the bottom drawer of my desk, tugging a couple of times when the drawer became stuck from the overflowing pictures. The top photos slid onto the floor. Gingerly, I picked up three and sifted through them. The first was of my sisters and me in our basketball jerseys, faces flushed from last year’s Sectional Championship. I stood in the center of them, my arms embracing Leah and Taylor on either side, our expressions happy despite our close loss. In the second picture, a blonde, nine-year-old girl beamed at the camera, her brilliant blue eyes shining under the sun. I was lying next to her on the inflated tube, my hair hanging in wet strands around my face. Both of us were wrapped in life jackets. It was the last picture I’d taken with Maddie, only days before she drowned.
The rest of the drawer was full of basketball photos and my favorite vacation memories, most of them from our time at Hidden Pines. More pictures of Maddie surfaced, and I remembered why these photos were hidden away. After last week’s nightmare, I’d ripped them all down—not ready to throw them away, but unable to bear the images that taunted me of my past life.
Walking to my locker on Monday, I caught sight of Shane and his basketball buddies walking down the hall. Remembering my fall at the corn maze, I tried to avoid him by finding someone—anyone—to talk to, but everyone around me was already preoccupied in conversation or fiddling with their lockers. Despite the laugh we’d shared in the moment, seeing Shane surrounded by all his arrogant guy friends pushed any familiarity aside.
I pulled out my phone and pretended to be thoroughly absorbed in texting, my feet still carrying me forward. No text in the history of texting ever required so much concentration.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” I heard Shane’s voice say as I passed him and his posse of testosterone. I picked up the pace and rounded the corner of the hall. Shane’s hand on my shoulder pulled me to a stop.
“Allie, hey,” Shane said. I glanced at his hand on my shoulder—which he quickly removed—before I looked up at him. As usual, he wore jeans and a tight, long-sleeved shirt, reminding me of the muddied one I returned to him on Friday night. I dropped my eyes, blushing at the memory of totally eating it at the corn maze.
The night had ended pretty quickly after that. Tara and Austin had been waiting for us for over twenty minutes—though I noticed Tara’s lip gloss needed a touch up, so I was sure they’d found ways to keep busy. We grabbed some hot chocolate but drank it in the car on our way home. Considering my wet and muddy jeans and Shane missing his shirt, hanging out any longer wasn’t really an option. Besides, I could tell Tara was dying to know if there was more to the story as to why Shane had removed his shirt. She seemed thoroughly disappointed with the humiliating truth of the matter.
“Hi,” I said to Shane, almost in question.
“Listen, I just want to apologize about Friday night.”
“Why? It’s not like you pushed me down or anything.” I tried to lighten the conversation with a laugh.
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Shane’s eyes became more serious. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings when I said—”
I cut him off before our conversation could take that awkward turn. I did not want to relive that par
t of our discussion where he basically told me I was not that interesting anymore. “It’s not a big deal,” I said, taking a step back to distance myself from him. The bell rang, warning me that I had five minutes to get to class. I looked around the hallway, which was quickly becoming void of students. I took another anxious step backwards. I hated walking into class late, winning more unwanted attention.
Shane seemed like he had more to say, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t decide on his words.
I made it easy on him by waving goodbye, looking over my shoulder with a fleeting, “I’ll talk to you later!”