Guilt (12 page)

I sipped my coffee, and then changed the subject by saying, "I have something for you."

Before leaving the house, I had the inspiration to bring Corry's charcoal drawing for Kain, thinking that he might like to see it. Pulling it out of my purse and unrolling it, I slid it across the table for his perusal.

He knit his eyebrows in confusion. "What is it?"

"It's a drawing that Corry created in art class," I replied. "I found it amongst my old things."

He studied the artwork intently, but instead of the nostalgic feelings I'd hoped to conjure in him, his face went dark. "He gave you this?"

"Well, it was more that I asked him for it, than him just giving it to me." I responded, a little confused by his puzzling reaction.

"What do you mean?" he questioned further.

My confusion intensified, and I felt my own eyebrows narrowing. "I just mean that, after the assignment was over, he didn't want it anymore. Instead of throwing it away, he let me have it."

"What was the assignment?" He asked.

I explained to him about the interpretation project and the kidnapping article that the drawing was based on. The dimness never left his features. He just asked more questions. "Did he mention why he chose to display his subject this way? Or why he chose the Giant's Grave as the site for this picture?"

"No." Why was he acting so funny? Did I do the wrong thing by showing him Corry's artwork? "I never asked him. I think he was just trying to give the girl a grave, and he chose the Giant as a protector for her."

Kain's expression changed. He looked apologetic and embarrassed. "I'm sorry. It's just that, this is a place we used to go to. The high school woods are connected to ours, and we used to play here. It was . . . it's just strange to see him draw a grave here." He looked at the picture again. "I thought for a moment . . . It's like he knew ahead of time that he was going to die."

The thought never came to my mind. Good lord, was Corry trying to say something back then? Was he trying to warn us? Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I realize? Could I have done something? The guilt hit me, again, harder than ever.

"You, know," Kain smiled, a look of reminiscence on his face, "We used to drag our sleds all the way to this slope to go sled riding in the winter. There were other hills – bigger hills – but this one was more fun, because you could shoot down the gully walls. If you got up enough speed, you could fly all the way up to the top of the Grave mound."

Corry had never told me about that. He and his brother had so many adventures together. I envied them, and almost wished that Lil and I had been closer.

"Of course, when we were older, my buddies and I used to go there and have pot parties." He looked up at me, and must have seen the disappointment on my face. "Don't worry. I don't do that any more. It was just a phase."

Recollection of my teenage naivety came to mind. I had never been conscious that half of the student body had drunk alcohol and smoked pot, but I did realize it in retrospect. Man, I was really out of the loop. Not that I would have joined in, necessarily, but I didn't even know it was going on all around me.

Kain continued to convince me that he only smoked pot during his sophomore and junior year, and never during the sports season; but my attention was lost on him when a gust of wind made me instinctively turn towards the door. The person that let the chilly air inside walked up to the register at the counter to pay for a take-out order. The Freak, again.

He stood with his back towards me in such a way that he wasn't even directly facing the waitress who was ringing up his order. It had to be because he was trying to avoid me. Well, I wasn't about to give him any reason to hide. I turned around, wishing I had left my hair down so that I could use it to curtain my face. Neither of us wanted to see one another.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Kain re-attracted my attention. "Do you know the history of the Giant's Grave? How it was used for picnics and stuff?"

"Yeah," I said, amazed that he knew of it, too. "People used to go up there every Sunday after getting mineral water from my great uncle's well."

"That's right." He grinned in approval of my familiarity with the custom. "What do you say we do that? Tomorrow."

Whoa, he was trying to set up a rendezvous with me, again? Red flags went up in my head. I shouldn't be condoning any interests on his part. "You know, it's pretty cold out there. I don't think I could handle a picnic in this weather."

"Come on," he flashed me a good-natured smile. "The snow is melting, and I'll bring firewood to start a bonfire in the pit at the top of the grave."

He was really driving me a hard bargain, but I couldn't give in. "Well – "

"And I'll bring hot chocolate." He interrupted in playful negotiation. "And marshmallows for roasting."

I loved roasted marshmallows. It'd probably been about fifteen years since I'd had that delicious taste in my mouth. Still, I couldn't give in. If I spent too much time with Kain, he'd get the wrong idea. I'd been down that road once already with his brother, and it didn't end well.

"I – I really should spend time with my family." That's a good excuse, right?

"We'll just go there for lunch. It'll be no more than two, three hours tops." The pleading expression on his face became too much to bear. My rationality was giving in.

"There's not going to be any pot, is there?" I tried one more lame bow-out.

Kain replied with an entertained grin, "I swear, it's not my thing anymore. I haven't touched the stuff in years."

Damn it. I was actually going to go through with this.

Just then, I felt the burst of cold air from the direction of the door again. I turned, and the Freak was gone. When I turned back to Kain, I caught a glimpse of a moving figure out of the window. The Freak walked by on his way back towards the gas station. He glanced inside on his way past, and we made eye contact. He had a severe look on his face. Would that guy ever get over his fascination with gloom and doom?

Chapter Sixteen

Enfolding her head and burying her face in her arms, Claire burrowed in deeper, hiding every inch of herself from exposure. She curled up and inhaled a familiar and consoling scent. Pliancy and warmth encircled her body; firmness and security enclosed her environment. She felt calm, hidden in her private little world; experienced comfort within the boundaries that were all her own. She loved her bed.

Her mood had improved since yesterday. She left school feeling miserable, worried that she had hurt the feelings of her only friend there, and afraid that she had lost that friendship completely. She couldn't keep her mind off of Corry and what he'd meant to her this school year. Without him, she would be completely alone again. And while she may have been a loner by nature, she actually hated being alone.

The more she thought of Corry and his apparent attraction to her, the more enticing she found him to be. True, his physical appearance didn't captivate her at first sight. He had the farm boy muscles and a sincere smile, but his looks didn't stand out amongst the other boys - until she learned those features better.

Now, she knew that his eyes were the color of a well-worn pair of blue jeans; and his thick eyelashes could have been the envy of any girl, with lengths that stretched down his cheeks when he lowered his concentration down towards his artwork. The contour of his hairline, above dense eyebrows and a very rectangular fore head, showed the evidence of a cowlick, which might have been unruly if his hair hadn't been cut so short. A dimple only appeared on his right cheek when he smirked, and a smattering of freckles stood out on his nose, darker than the rest of his sun browned skin.

She already knew he had a compassionate mind and a sensitive spirit. Moments of charming humor disrupted his recurring melancholy. An uncommon flicker of shrewdness divulged itself in his gaze and enriched his conversation.

Everything about him was so . . . likeable.

She liked him. How could she not have realized it? Why didn't she see him this way before?

She went to bed that night, thinking about him, dreaming about him – dreams that made her blush when she recalled them in the morning. The warmth of those recollections overheated her to a point in which she had to throw the blankets off in order to cool down.

For the first time this semester, Claire was excited to go to school. She wanted to see Corry. She had to make sure he knew that she changed her mind. Anywhere he wanted to take her on Saturday, she would be more than happy to go.

Her family noticed the change in Claire's attitude as she readied herself for school. Her mom threw puzzled yet pleased looks at her daughter's preoccupied countenance while at the breakfast table; and Lil growled because Claire spent more time in the bathroom than usual, occupying a good portion of the older girl's mirror-time. It was a rare occasion when Claire left her hair down, and today was one such special event.

Claire took extra care while picking a sweater in a color that flattered her complexion; and donned the new pair of jeans she'd gotten at the start of the school year, which she hadn't bothered to wear yet because her older ones were more comfortable. She stole a pair of shoes from her sister's closet while Lil wasted her time curling every stand of hair in the bathroom. Lil's brown leather maryjanes were more girlish than Claire's own blue Converse or tan Vans, and she felt more feminine while wearing them.

She bundled up against the cold of the lifeless late fall day, and headed off to school early, a slight eagerness in her step. From the moment she entered the doors of the school, she kept a keen eye out for Corry. She never really saw him in passing during the morning classes before, but maybe that was because she had never paid attention. No matter how astute her search was, though, she could not glimpse him amongst the throng of her peers.

She watched the clock all morning. It was a good thing she had no exams scheduled. There would have been no way she could have concentrated. Before lunch, Mr. Lutz, her social studies teacher, gave a pop quiz on the systems of various government politics. It was a multiple-choice format, so she had a one in four chance of getting each answer right. Her grade would be based on luck, since she didn't have the capability to focus on the questions.

When lunchtime came she sat in the solitude of her remote corner table. And there, she waited, spending the first half of the period in positive expectation that Corry would walk through the lunchroom doors. He didn't come everyday, but more often than not, he did pop in. Today seemed to be one of the 'not' days, however. Her rational side didn't expect him to be there. She
did
reject him just the day before, but the hope that sprung from her newfound feelings remained optimistic to a fault, and by the end of the lunch period she felt the disappointment of rejection herself.

Still, without Corry's presence it meant that she didn't have to share her table with the Freak. He never showed up when she was by herself. She tried to smile about that, but it was half hearted.

Corry might quite possibly be avoiding her, but he couldn't steer clear of her in art class. They sat at the same table. All she needed was an opportunity to let him know that she changed her mind, and it would fix any tension that might have developed between them.

Claire walked down the hallway to the technical and vocational wing as fast as she could, dodging in and out between students. It wasn't that getting there quicker would allow her to see Corry any sooner, since he always arrived at the classroom five seconds after the bell rang, but she felt so excited to see him that she moved in anticipation, hoping to fast forward to the moment.

She sat at the round art table, trying not to stare too intently at the door, because the whole world didn't need to know she was looking for Corry. The Freak came in, and sat down with a grunt. She glanced over at him and noticed that he was staring at her. That fact alone didn't concern her, he always tried that discomfort tactic, but the smirk on his face told her that he was amused. Did he see something in her expression or through her edgy posture? Did he suspect?