Brave New Love (9 page)

“Just one,” he said.

I felt a thrill of . . . excitement. That’s what it was. And in the moment, I didn’t think clearly. I should have used my fingers to take the strawberry from him, but I didn’t.
I bent over and bit it in from his hand, my lips brushing against his own fingers as I did.

It was a rush of too many things. The taste of something so fresh in my mouth, the knot that unexpectedly knit in my stomach, and the look in Dylan’s eyes.

His eyes. I stared into them and recognized them as the same blue-green I’d dreamed about. His eyes flashed down to his fingers, still holding the stem, and then back to me.

It was too much to take. I scooped a mouthful of whatever it was on my plate—something soft I couldn’t even taste—and escaped.

•  •  •

It was a long three days but it was worth it. Elaine was running through the fields, alive with joy, and everyone was lifted by the sight. Until then, she’d probably never
even had the urge to run. And Austin, it turned out, was actually a nice guy. Every time he caught a glimpse of my eye, he apologized again.

Jesse wasn’t quite so tense now that his long-lost friend was back, and everyone was gladdened by the arrival of new faces. Everyone except for maybe Mackenzie. She watched them closely,
and we all knew why.

It was obvious that finding out the truth was bothering her, and not just because she had been tricked, but also because she couldn’t decide if she wanted to stay how she was. I’d
felt it, that day at Doc Sara’s. She’d looked at me and she’d felt something and it scared her.

Scared me, too.

I’d been keeping my distance, trying to give her room to decide what to do, but I couldn’t stand being away from her any longer. I found her on the dock at our tiny lake, one foot in
the water, thinking. She heard me coming and looked back.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked.

She shook her head, and I went to sit beside her.

She was quiet for a long time, but I didn’t mind. It was nice to just sit by her again. I thought it was funny that she kept coming back to the dock, dipping her feet in. Most people gave
up on feeling anything, including temperature or texture. Even in her haze, she could appreciate it.

“Where are your parents?” she asked.

I didn’t like to talk about it but considering everything I’d done, I figured I owed her. “They’re in prison. They got caught telling others about the drugs. Told the
wrong person, I guess. Jesse told them he’d watch me when the cops came, and two hours later, we were here. My parents actually helped build this place.”

“Did you go through what they did? Austin and Elaine, I mean?”

“Not exactly. My parents had a garden, so I only ever ate one of the issued meals a day. I felt sick when I did, but it wasn’t as bad. And it was over quicker.”

She was quiet again, and traced the patterns in the wood slats with her fingers. Something was up.

“My mom’s dead, you know.”

“No,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the thing,” she said. “You feel sorry. You feel sorry for me, for her, probably even for my dad. But I don’t feel anything. I can’t even miss her. It
doesn’t seem fair. And I’ve been away from my dad for what, over a week? Except for that moment in the cabin, I can barely muster up the will to want him back.”

Even as she spoke, her voice stayed calm. It was as if there was some disconnect in her somewhere, like wiring gone wrong—knowledge in one place, emotions in another, and they
weren’t allowed to touch.

“I feel like there’s a layer of something over everything,” she confessed.

I chuckled. “Like a doughnut. That’s one of our names for the Regulars. Doughnuts, cows, zombies.”

I smiled at her but she didn’t return it. “I want to miss my mom, Dylan.”

I took in a deep breath and then let it out. Was she asking for too much? Wasn’t this what I was hoping for? But this decision wasn’t about me.

So I let her make it.

•  •  •

I cried a lot, like Elaine did. I tossed and turned on the mattress, blinking in and out of a cloudy delirium. I’d feel tired, and then I’d fidget for an hour.
I’d drink water and then throw it back up. The world kept going in and out of focus, as if a magnifying glass were being whipped back and forth in front of my brain.

But every time I’d catch a glimpse of reality, he was there. Dylan pacing the floor, Dylan running his hands though his hair, Dylan staring out the window, Dylan asleep beside the bed.

Those three days were horrible. But at least I could tell that they were.

•  •  •

I didn’t know how many people I’d seen go through that, but watching Mackenzie was the worst. Usually, I got fighters. Mackenzie whimpered a lot, as if she were
lost. But when she woke up on the third day, I could tell it was over. She looked around the room and, as boring as it was, she seemed enthralled with every little detail. She looked at her own
hands, touched the quilt, inhaled deeply. She looked up at me and smiled.

I’d been waiting for that smile. Since she’d been here, I’d been hoping for a look of recognition with nothing blurring the edges. She hopped out of bed, alive with excitement,
and ran into my arms.

“You didn’t leave,” she breathed into my neck.

“Didn’t have any other plans,” I joked.

She pulled back and gave me a face, and I was elated just to see that tiny bit of expression. Slowly, the look on her face shifted. I felt something that, in all these years of feeling,
I’d never come across before.

The door flew open. “Is the cow done ye—”

We stepped apart, but not fast enough to escape Monica’s gaze. She didn’t even look at me, she just raked her eyes over Mackenzie and left.

“Huh,” Mackenzie said once we were alone again. “I was wondering how long it would be before I wished I couldn’t feel something.”

•  •  •

I ran, I touched, I laughed out loud. I squished grass between my toes and missed the comforting arms of my father. I sat in the sunlight and wished for my mother with an ache
so big I felt it would crush me. And as awful as it was, I loved it. I loved the feeling of soft air, my own elbows, my new determination. I loved things that, before I even knew what it was to
feel, I always suspected I would. Like sisterhood and polished glass and the sensation of really moving.

And then, surprisingly, there were things I loved that I never could have imagined.

I couldn’t stop looking at Dylan. I kept wondering what he felt about me. Though it seemed strange to me that I should like him at all, I did. I trusted Dylan. Without me ever knowing I
needed it, he rescued me. And since I’d been here—an Outsider myself—his only actions had been to protect me, help me.

Maybe it was because it was the first time I’d really thought about a guy at all, but I couldn’t tear myself away from him. These feelings for Dylan, of all the new things I felt,
were the most powerful, the most consuming.

I tossed and turned all night wondering if he felt the same way about me.

•  •  •

I worked myself into exhaustion so I would sleep at night, but it didn’t come easily. I would catch myself thinking of Mackenzie’s laugh, or the way she played with
the little ones, or the sight of her cross-legged on the dock with quiet tears on her cheeks.

I wanted to ask her about everything she was feeling. One thing in particular.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I caught her looking at me a lot. And it seemed in those quick seconds after she turned away her cheeks would flush pink. I kept hoping there was something
there, but I had no real reason to think there was.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I got out of bed and went outside to clear my mind. I guessed I could go to the workshop. I had a ton of projects to complete. I took the long way, just to be
outside longer, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the tiny silhouette on the dock. Night or day, light or shadow, I’d know Mackenzie anywhere.

She saw me coming and gave me a small wave as I walked out to where she was sitting.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, stating the obvious.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

She sounded sad. “Something wrong?”

“I have this feeling . . . I don’t even know what to call it,” she said.

“How does it feel?”

“It’s two things, conflicting. It’s confusing.”

“Ambivalence,” I said. “Simultaneous conflicting feelings. Ambivalence.”

She nodded. “Not a fan of this one.”

“What are you so conflicted about?” I asked. “Maybe I can help.”

Mackenzie’s eyes flashed back and forth in the night and then she held in a small smile. “Okay, well, now I’m feeling nervous, but suppose, just hypothetically, that someone
took you away from here and put you in a place that was completely foreign to you.”

I chuckled. “Okay.”

“And then let’s pretend they confused you, told you everything you’d ever known was a lie, and never exactly explained why they took you in the first place, or told you all
these things,” she said.

That wasn’t nearly as entertaining. “Okay.” I stared at the water, afraid to look at her.

“And then . . . suppose you thought the person who did all these things was . . . wonderful.”

I didn’t dare move. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. There was a smile in my voice when I spoke. “Okay.”

“Well, what would happen if you told that person they were wonderful? Anything at all? Or maybe they don’t really want you to think they’re wonderful . . .”

She’d been afraid I wouldn’t want to hear that? I looked over to her, and she had one of her legs pulled up to her chest, both arms wrapped around it. She was hiding her nose behind
her knee and clearly didn’t want to look at me.

I gazed just past her and confessed. “Maybe the person would tell you that . . . that they noticed you a long time ago.” I saw her head perk up at those words. “Maybe they
would say they’ve thought you were wonderful all along, even before they knew why. They might tell you they’re sorry they hurt you, and wished they could’ve seen you this happy
without making you go through so much.” I took in a breath. “They might tell you that you thinking they’re wonderful kind of changes their whole world.”

I finally dared to look at Mackenzie. I didn’t know if she intended to come across that way, but she looked as if she were pleading with me.

I placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her.

•  •  •

Suddenly, everything made sense. The moment Dylan kissed me, all the other things I’d felt became even stronger. So many emotions hung on this one. Grief, hope, anger.
They all became crystal clear in that second.

I’d never felt such a need before. Not even hunger or thirst came close. It was as if I couldn’t get him closer to me, couldn’t have his hands on me, I would just wither away.
And, amazingly enough, it seemed he felt the same way.

Dylan’s hands gripped me, pulling me so close not even a whisper of wind could come between us. His fingers traced the curve of my hip, the arch of my back, the shy spot behind my
knee.

Every time his lips moved or his hands went somewhere new, I tried to find a way to describe it to myself, so I could hold on to it. When it got to be all too much, I didn’t bother, and
was happy to find I didn’t need to.

•  •  •

It felt as if hours had passed in no time at all. We held each other on the dock while the moon slowly crept across the sky, completely content in each other’s arms.

I wracked my brain for a way to prove to her that this was it for me, that no matter how many people came and went or whatever hardships we would face I wasn’t ever letting her go. I
thought of my dad. He used to bring my mom flowers and give her gifts all the time. I remembered the way her eyes would light up, as if she couldn’t believe he’d thought about her,
still. My heart suddenly ached, wondering if, wherever they were now, were they still showing each other love? Were they able to?

I shook the thought away. They’d given up their freedom so I could have mine, and what they would want was for me to be happy. So I took a cue from dear old Dad. I would give something to
Mackenzie.

Starting tomorrow, I would build us a cabin. If I did that and worked on the place for Aaron’s family at the same time, it would take the better part of a year. Mackenzie would be eighteen
by then, and I’d be nineteen. By our standards, no one would say that was too young for us to live together, to consider ourselves a family.

I could even build our place by the lake. She really liked it here. I was so excited thinking about it, I nearly told her right then. But I decided not to. It would be better if I had something
to show her, like a foundation or the cornerstone or something.

With a plan in mind, I felt peaceful, and settled into Mackenzie, and then slept like I did when I was a kid, like I did when I knew I was loved.

•  •  •

Letting Dylan go was almost impossible. I wanted to stay curled up with him until the sun came up. But then everyone would know and for now, I was happy to have a secret. At
about four, we said our goodbyes and crept back to our cabins. I watched him walk away until I couldn’t see him anymore. He had this mischievous look on his face when we kissed goodbye, and I
wondered exactly what he was planning.

I was so lost in thought, I didn’t even notice Monica sitting outside our cabin until she spoke.

“Let me tell you why you’re making a huge mistake,” she said.

I leapt back in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“You can’t stay here forever, you know. Dylan might be too gaga to tell you, but they’re looking for you back home.”

“What?”

“They’re looking for you. Your picture was everywhere, honey. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.” She was looking at me with fire in her eyes. “You
know what will happen then, don’t you? It’s not like they’ll just let us rejoin society. We’ll all be in jail. It wouldn’t surprise me if Dylan and Jesse got the worst
of it, since they’d be considered our leaders.”

I shook my head. “No one could possibly find us.” Even I had no idea where I was. I knew we were on the other side of a thin, high spike of rock, something like a mountain. I knew
that the rocks gave way and led into the clearing. But I had no idea how to get out or how to find my way back to town. This place was incredibly well hidden.