Chapter 11
Three Days Pre-Culling…
Unfortunately, the storm lasts through the night, making sleep impossible. I lay awake, staring up at Spencer, who is in the hammock. I can’t tell if he’s awake or asleep, tossing and turning or being rocked by the never-ending waves. Sometime around 4:00 a.m., I can’t handle the silence a second longer.
“Spencer? You awake?” I whisper.
“Yeah.” His voice is thick with lack of sleep, and I can feel the exhaustion in his heavy sigh.
“Can I ask you something?” I roll onto my side and tuck my hands under my cheek. My heart pounds with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation.
“Always.” His tone is soft and intimate in the small room, and I close my eyes against the barrage of images I don’t want to acknowledge.
“What happened to you?”
He’s deathly silent, and I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. As time stretches, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. But then he speaks, and his words are slow and cautious. “What do you mean?”
I lick my lips and scrounge deep inside myself for the courage to keep talking. “You’ve changed. A lot. You’re more confident lately, and physically you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“Different,” I say after a moment. “More muscular. Stronger. It’s like you went through some sort of transformation.”
“I could say the same about you.” The hammock rocks as he shifts his weight.
I roll onto my back. “Maybe, but I don’t look any different. Not like you.”
“Guess I’m just a late bloomer,” he says.
Frowning, I sigh. Not exactly the answer I hoped for, but maybe that’s all this is—late onset puberty taking effect. Seems like a farfetched answer, but whatever. I’m too tired and cold to push him for the truth.
“My parents are selling the house,” I say, though I don’t know why. Maybe because I have no one else to tell. Or maybe because I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Spencer will understand and offer a little compassion.
He doesn’t reply, and I can’t seem to shut off my brain to mouth filter, so I keep talking.
“They told me I had to find somewhere to go this summer so they could show the house.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat, but I’m powerless against the tears pooling in my eyes. “I’ve lived there my entire life, and now I’m going to have to move.”
“I’m so sorry, Ev,” Spencer whispers with so much sincerity I have to take a few moments to collect myself.
“I don’t even know where I’ll end up going. Neither of my parents want me.” I sniffle and press the heels of my hands against my eyes, but the tears manage to leak out and stream down the sides of my face.
A second later, the mattress dips with extra weight, and then Spencer is lying next to me. I hadn’t even heard him move, let alone climb out of the hammock. He doesn’t reach for me or try to touch me; he simply lays on his back, hands tucked behind his head—exactly like he always did when we were younger, and I was sad about something. He would lay beside me, his mere presence offering comfort.
“I find that hard to believe,” he says, his voice so much quieter now that he’s so close. “Your parents love you.”
I snort, then swipe the back of my hand across my nose. “You should’ve heard them fighting.” I shake my head, wishing I had never heard them. “They were trying to shove me off on each other.” I roll onto my side, inadvertently bringing me closer to Spencer. “If I have my way, I won’t live with either of them.”
He sighs, and I glance over to see him frowning. “Where will you go?”
I shrug, and the mattress squeaks with the awkward movement. “I’m sure I could stay with Whitney. At least until I graduate.”
“It’ll be weird not having you live next door.” His voice is tinged with sadness.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
“Well, a lot can change in a short time. Maybe things will be different when we get home.”
If only I had his optimism, but he doesn’t live with my parents. He can’t possibly know how bad things really are. I’m convinced if my mother could get away with it, she’d find a way to murder my father and make it look like an accident. I flop over onto my back and fold my hands on my stomach.
“Reid cheated on me,” I say, and for the first time since I caught him, I don’t feel anything. No hurt. No anger. No shame. I’m numb to his actions, and that’s… freeing.
Spencer huffs. “I always knew that guy was an idiot.”
I laugh, and soon, Spencer is, too. What he said isn’t even that funny, but in light of everything, his flippant comment is the release I need. I let loose and laugh until I’m crying. Whitney, Liz, and Mya had been critical of Reid’s actions, too, but something about their support feels off, like it’s not as genuine as Spencer’s. Then again, he’s never wavered in his friendship toward me.
“Hey, do you hear that?” I ask when I finally calm down.
“I don’t hear anything,” he says.
“Exactly.” I hop out of bed. “The storm stopped.”
Spencer is out of bed in a flash, and he’s racing above deck. I follow, curious to see what, if any, damage was done to the boat. Other than some standing water and a little bit of debris, everything is in working order. Thank God for that.
“Let’s head for town,” he says, then heaves the anchor out of the lake. “I don’t know if it’s going to rain again, but that sky doesn’t look too friendly. Better to be docked if it storms again.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” I say.
He tosses a grin at me, starts the engine, and then takes off at a speed that I’m sure would get him a hefty ticket if the coast guard caught him. But I’m not complaining. The sooner we get to the next town and docked, the better. I’d kill for a hot meal that doesn’t need to be cooked in a microwave.
We arrive in St. Joseph just as the sun rises over the horizon. My eyes burn from lack of sleep, but the hunger pangs ravaging my stomach keep me wide awake. Spencer finds an empty dock, pulls alongside it, and secures the boat. The sudden lack of rocking and swaying momentarily disorients me, and I’m unsteady on my feet as I attempt to get out of the boat.
Spencer grabs my arm to help me, and I give him a grateful smile. “You good?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m—”
A loud crack of thunder cuts me off. I glance up to find the sky darkening more and more. A bolt of lightning strikes over the lake.
“Please don’t tell me we have to hide in that bedroom again,” I whine.
“Nope.” Spencer grabs my hand, and then he takes off at a run, dragging me along with him.
We don’t even make our way off the dock before the torrential downpour starts—and the rain is freezing. Within seconds, we’re both soaked. I try to keep up with Spencer’s pace, but my body trembles with shivers. So far, this trip sucks.
Spencer stops at the entrance of a building and yanks open the door. He nods for me to go in, and I don’t hesitate. As soon as I step over the threshold, I shake as much water from my body as I can; then I smooth my hands over my hair, not that it helps. I imagine I look like a drowned cat.
He steps around me and approaches a desk that stretches the length of the room. “Do you have a couple of rooms available?” he asks the young guy behind the counter.
“Sorry, man. Just rented the last room.” The kid frowns. “This storm is driving all the boaters inland. We’re booked solid for the next two nights.”
Spencer curses under his breath. I rub my hands up and down my arms, but I can’t stop shivering. I don’t have the money to rent a room anywhere, but I also don’t want to race back to the boat in the pouring rain. Nor do I want to be stuck in that small bedroom with Spencer again for any extended period of time.
“Is there anywhere else with rooms for rent?” Spencer asks.
“The B&B might have something. Let me call over there for you.” The kid picks up the telephone.
Spencer mumbles a “thanks,” then turns to face me. He shrugs. I silently pray that the B&B has a room or two open. Right now, I’ll do just about anything for a hot shower and a real bed that doesn’t dip in the middle. And food. This town must have a pizza place, right? My mouth waters at the thought of a gooey cheese pizza with extra pepperoni and sausage.
“Okay, they have room, but you better hurry if you want it,” the kid says. “Leave here, take a left, and it’s the last building at the end of the street. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” Spencer nods, and then he’s motioning me back out into the rain.
We stop beneath the awning. Spencer glances right, then left, then peers up at the sky, as if glaring at the rain will somehow make it stop. If anything, it pours even harder.
“We’re going to have to make a run for it,” he says, giving me a helpless, apologetic look.
“Not like I can get any wetter than I already am,” I say, an unintentional bite to my tone. “You do realize neither of us brought any clothes with us, right?”
Spencer frowns and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Let’s check into the B&B, make sure we get rooms. Then I’ll go back to the boat and get our stuff.”
My teeth chatter uncontrollably, and all I can manage is a jerky nod.
“Okay, let’s do this then.” He once again grabs my hand, laces his fingers with mine, and we take off at a dead run.
Several bursts of lightning flash overhead, and the ground rumbles with the force of the thunder. I let out a small yelp, and Spencer pulls me beneath another awning, this one leading to a closed pharmacy.
Huddling together, we wait for a small break in the storm, and then we’re running again. The wind whips around us violently, sending tree branches snapping in the distance. Rain pelts my face. I clutch Spencer’s hand tighter and turn into him, using his body as a shield against the elements.
I race up the steps to the B&B and take refuge beneath the covered porch as I fight to catch my breath. Spencer is next to me, and he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by our recent sprint in what has to be hurricane-force winds and rain. I glare at him, both with resentment and a touch of jealousy. He’s really in great shape.
“If they don’t have rooms…” I say between gasps.
Spencer chuckles. “Then we’ll camp out on this porch until the rain stops.”
“Works for me.” I take a deep breath, thankful I’m no longer gasping for air like a fish out of water. But now my side hurts. I place my hand just below my ribs as if that will ease the sharp, stabbing pain.
Spencer approaches, and I stiffen, though I’m not sure why. He smiles softly, almost lovingly. Then, he reaches up and pulls a twig and a few dead leaves from my hair. The gesture is so sweet, and suddenly, I’m no longer cold. I stare up at him. He drops the debris and cups the side of my face.
I suck in a breath. My heart pounds furiously, drowning out the sound of the rain beating down on the wooden roof. Spencer steps closer, and I do the same. He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, and my eyelids flutter closed. Anticipation and indecision war inside of me as I wait for the feel of his lips on mine.
A heartbeat later, his warm breath puffs against my now parted lips, and I’m frozen in place, simultaneously wanting him to kiss me and not kiss me. But my thoughts are blissfully silent, and I’m suspended in this moment. I know he’s going to kiss me. The only question now is will I let him? Or will I freak out and push him away?
“Everleigh,” he whispers, tormented, and then he rests his forehead against mine.
My shoulders droop with disappointment, and I take a large step back. “We should go inside and get rooms before they’re gone.” I twist, grab the doorhandle, and walk in before he can stop me.