Guilt (11 page)

The pumps were still rather old fashioned and wouldn't accept a credit card payment, so I had to go inside to pay before I filled up. After waiting in line behind a woman with three kids who was buying Mountain Dew, cigarettes and tabloids along with a gallon of milk, I went up to the register.

The last person I expected to see was the man behind the counter. Recognition dawned on him a second before it hit me. The Freak. His skin looked worn and dry from the cold and his head shaved of its shaggy wild hair. His ink drawings were replaced with tattoos up and down his exposed arms, but he was unmistakably the Freak.

A sick feeling came to me at perceiving him. I still didn't want anyone to acknowledge that I was here in Brickerton. No questions, no reminiscing. Especially not with the Freak.

He gave me a hard stare, and I couldn't maintain my gaze back. Could I just crawl back out of the station and pretend this never happened?

"Can I help you?" He said.

I looked up, startled. He addressed me as though he didn't know me, but I knew that he did. The look on his face told me he feigned ignorance along with a slight discomfort of his own. I smiled, realizing that he was going to let me off the hook without admission of our acquaintance.

After paying for the gas and filling up my car, I pulled back onto the street, relieved that the situation went as smooth as it had. I hadn't looked the Freak in the eyes since Corry's death, and had managed to avoid him during the last two and a half years of high school. The sight of him brought back old buried layers of pain, and he seemed just as willing to pretend this encounter didn't happen as I did.

Note to self, don't get gas from that station anymore.

Chapter Fourteen

The fall semester eked onward, but hardly fast enough for Claire. She counted down the days until winter break. Twenty-two school days and thirty-four calendar days. Then she'd have a few weeks' freedom from the seclusion she inflicted upon herself within a school of nearly four hundred students.

Admittedly, her seclusion had been less than the norm as of late. For the last two weeks, Corry ditched his study hall class more often than not, and joined her at the lunch table in the corner. Every time he showed up, the Freak sat down at the table with his own lunch tray. Claire was a little annoyed at first, because the Freak's presence caused Corry to bristle; but the strange boy didn't really interact with his tablemates. He just sat there and ate his cafeteria food – with a rather nauseating flourish. So, Corry and Claire ignored him, just like they did in art class.

And just like in art class, the two friends talked of general interests and life. Corry always had stories of adventures or scrapes he and his brother got into on the farm. Like the tractor they stole out of the barn when Corry was ten. It ended up with them getting caught by their father after they attempted to harness some horses to pull the bulky farm vehicle out of a ditch they drove it into. It didn't help that the tractor had rolled onto its side, and had to be hauled out by a hired crane. Corry and his brother lost any and all privileges that summer.

When they were a little older, he and his brother would run off into the woods after the morning chores were done, and play soldiers with gun shaped sticks and pinecone grenades. Sometimes they ended up at the high school building, whose expanse of woods neighbored their own. When they made it that far, the boys broke into the school through an unsecured window, and continued their war games in the halls and classrooms. One day, a teacher who'd been in the building preparing for a summer class caught them prowling around. The police got involved, and they lost all privileges the rest of that summer, as well.

Corry's face animated when he related these stories, but when they ended, his expression became wistful, and that dejected pain that Claire had seen more and more frequently on his face appeared.

This Thursday afternoon in mid-November was much the same as the others. He told Claire about the time when he was five or so, and he and his brother picked most of the strawberries out of the patch owned by the farmer down the road. They brought the berries home, craddled in their juice stained shirts, so that their mother could make strawberry perserves. The poor woman was shocked and ashamed at her sons' thievery, and made them take the berries back to their neighbors and apologize. At this point, Corry went grim.

Claire attempted to cheer him up by reciprocating with a story of her own about the time she and her sister discovered a bowl of frosting in the refrigerator and snuck it outside to devour the whole dish. Not only did they foil up the cake Mom was making for Lil's seventh birthday, but they were sick from the sugar-high for two days afterwards. Her story worked, and Corry smiled. Even the Freak snorted good-humoredly, which was unexpected.

That day in art class, Corry was quiet. He didn't seem to be depressed, but he appeared rather tense. Concerned about this new state of behavior, Claire kept peering at him. She found him looking at her each time. He jerked his eyes back towards his artwork as soon as they made contact with hers. This conduct made her feel awkward. She didn't expect such a level of anxiety to be an issue at this point in their friendship.

When he accompanied her to algebra class, he walked with a rigid gate and a stiff neck. One hand gripped his books with white knuckles and his other hand was shoved deep in his jeans pocket. Claire could tell from his range of facial expressions that he was struggling with some thought that rolled around in his head. She felt confused and a little offended by his fretfulness.

"Claire," They were more than halfway to class before he spoke, "What are you doing on Saturday?"

That question made her head spin. Corry never asked her such things before. Never a 'what are you doing this weekend?' or even a 'how was your weekend?' on Mondays. Why did he ask her now? The possibilities raced through her mind. A simple question, yet it had vast implications.

Claire was so lost in her confusion that she made no response. They were nearing her classroom, however, so Corry didn't waste anymore time.

"If you're not busy, I have a place I'd like to take you to."

Her worst fears were founded. He was asking her out. How could this happen? She knew – she
felt sure
that Corry didn't have feelings for her. He never betrayed any emotions beyond friendship. If he had, she would have been quick to put an end to those emotions long ago. She just wasn't interested in him. Not like that.

"Uh, I –," she couldn't think of an excuse. Nothing plausible that wouldn't hurt his feelings. "I can't."

The fear of looking at him made her concentrate her eyes on the floor as they stopped in front of her classroom.

"Oh, okay." His response came out cracked and strained. That forced her attention back up to his face. He looked as though she had just punched him in the gut.

It took a lot of courage for him to even ask her, and it made her sick to cause him pain. Her eyes slipped away, again, and she fought against the stubborn frown that formed on her face. Her chest hurt, and her throat constricted in the attempt to prevent the release of a groan. A deceitful sniffle managed to sneak out of her nose unbidden, though.

She couldn't stand the tension anymore as they both stood in the hallway, studying the lockers and looking anywhere but at each other; so, she disappeared into the classroom to relieve him of her presence.

The algebra lesson was completely lost on her that afternoon. Not that it didn't completely lose her any other day, but this time her mind was full of Corry. How could he do that? How could he take their friendship and destroy it by having feelings for her? Never in a million years would she have guessed that Corry had a crush on her. Did she simply not pay attention? Did she lead him on in another instance of naiveté?

If there were any guy in the world that she could have feelings for it would be Corry. He was funny, smart, insightful, talented, and, not the least of all, he was cute – in a muscular, clean-cut, farm boy sort of way that grows on you. So why did she not have feelings for him?

Was she afraid? That must be it. But afraid of rejection? Because that didn't seem to be a problem. Corry was more than willing to accept her affections.

Afraid that falling in love might trap her in Brickerton? Possibly, but that was no reason not to be with the one person that could make you happy. Right? Besides, loving someone wasn't a trap. It was a gift. An opportunity for happiness.

If she really thought about it, maybe she could like him. Love-at-first-sight and falling-head-over-heals was all for fairytales, and she was realistic enough to know that. Maybe the best kind of romance was the one that grew out of friendship. She certainly liked Corry's company at school. A little more time with him, and that 'like' could possibly blossom into something more.

By the end of the day, she decided to give Corry a chance. She'd save them both the awkwardness in art class tomorrow (or at lunch, if he showed up) by telling him that she was free on Saturday, after all. The idea made her nervous, but not nearly as much so as the fear of losing her only friend did.

Chapter Fifteen

Upon entering Flo's Diner I was happy to find Kain already sitting down in the same booth we occupied the day before yesterday. The boredom of waiting impatiently for me had settled itself on his face. I caught a glimpse of him before he noticed my entrance, and something about him struck me. Without the animation that had been in his features the last time we met, when he was so excited to be talking about Corry, he looked almost identical to his brother. If Corry had reached full adulthood, I was sure that that was what he would have looked like.

And the outcome wouldn't have been disappointing, either. Kain was a very good-looking young man. Perhaps the fact that he hadn't performed farm chores in a few years had made him less stout than he would otherwise have been, but his muscles seemed to retain the memory of his former labors. Clean-cut with dark hair and pale skin, except for the ruddiness in his cheeks, he could easily be mistaken for the boy she once knew.

"Claire." His animation returned and the resemblance diminished. Corry and Kain had different smiles.

He stood up from the booth to greet me. I was very aware as he leaned in to kiss my cheek, again, and worked to restrain any feelings of invasion that I normally felt. He waited until I took the seat across from him, then sat back down himself. His manners still staggered me. Very few people displayed such etiquette anymore. I felt a pang of grief for the loss of Corry's similar qualities.

After ordering from the small menu, and preparing our coffee, Kain began the conversation by asking me questions about myself. Being more of a listener than a talker, I found it difficult to relay my history, my likes and dislikes, hobbies and passions to him. So, I started turning the conversation around, and asking him questions.

He moved southward for college, disappointing his father by studying architectural design rather than agriculture. After earning a degree, he couldn't find a job with an architectural firm, and so began working on building sites. Eventually, he became a site manager, overseeing construction projects. He really loved his job, and found it to be financially rewarding.

As for other parts of his life, he took on the appearance of the broken hearted when he discussed his 'on-again-off-again' relationship with his college girlfriend. They were currently 'off', and had been for over six months. He hadn't seen nor heard from her since that time.

Before I could consider my words, I blurted out, "I guess that's her loss, then." I meant that to be nice, and express that it was a shame that she lost out on someone special, but the connotation could be taken in several different ways. I hoped that he didn't think that I was trying to hone in on him. I couldn't help but find him attractive, but I would not,
could not
, forget that he was Corry's brother.

He smiled at my declaration, but I couldn't tell if he was grateful for the compliment or if he thought I liked him. The predicament made me feel like a teenager, again, all self-conscious and insecure.