In the Middle of Nowhere (6 page)

Michael rubbed his hands together and blew on
them. “I grew up on the island. I knew exactly where this place was
when we first talked.”

“But why did you come … and on
Thanksgiving?”

Michael looked down as he answered. “I just
needed to get away from home for a while.”

He looked at me and forced a grin. “You know
how annoying families can get, especially around the holidays.”

I was flabbergasted. “But it’s snowing and
freezing out there,” I said as I pointed toward the front window.
“How did you even get here?”

“I took a cab from my house to the Portland
pier and walked to your house when I got to the island.”

“Do your parents know where you are?”

Again he looked down. “No. And I really don’t
care.”

I grabbed his frozen hand and spoke sternly.
“Michael, you need to call them.”

“No. I don’t.” He yanked his hand away and
glared at me. “I knew coming here was a mistake.”

I was speechless, at first, and then became
angry. “A mistake? What am I supposed to think? You show up
unexpectedly on my doorstep during a storm, frozen to the bone in
the middle of Thanksgiving dinner?”

Michael turned away from me, toward the fire,
but I wasn’t done.

“And you promised you’d be in school last
week and, not only did you not show up, you didn’t even have the
courtesy to tell me.”

Michael still wouldn’t look at me. I
continued anyway and tried to keep my voice down.

“What is going on with you? Sometimes you’re
around; sometimes you’re not. I think you’re really sick with
something, but you won’t talk about it.”

Exasperated, I threw my hands up. “What do
you want from me, Michael?”

Michael glowered at me and pierced me with
his dark, brooding eyes. He spoke through clenched teeth and his
voice was deeper than ever. “Absolutely nothing.”

Without another word, he turned and marched
toward the front door.

“Michael!” I called after him. “Wait! Come
back!”

Michael stormed out and slammed the door
shut, but somehow, it blew back open, as a gust of frigid wind
entered the room, found me, clung to me and wouldn’t let me go.

CHAPTER
NINE

Just when I thought it was not possible that
the temperature in Maine get any colder, I’d find myself shivering
uncontrollably and my teeth actually chattering whenever I was
outside for more than a minute. I experienced my fair share of
harsh winters growing up in Massachusetts, but so far, nothing
compared to my new habitat, the exposed and vulnerable Pike’s
Island.

Regardless, I tried to keep myself as warm as
possible as I kept up with my grueling workload and my grades, even
studying or doing my homework on the chilly ferryboat back and
forth to the island.

While on my way back to the island one
below-zero-wind-chilled-afternoon, I readjusted my scarf and
wrapped it tightly around my neck. I sat there and tried to
memorize present tense conjugations for my Spanish quiz the next
day, but couldn’t. I found myself thinking about Michael and about
the last time I saw him.

After Michael had stormed off on
Thanksgiving, I quietly closed the front door and locked it
securely behind me. I didn’t know what else to do. For a brief
moment I contemplated running after him, but I had no idea where he
went. He knew the island better than I did and when I tried to call
him on his cell phone, it went straight to voice mail.

Michael never did show up to school the week
after that and wouldn’t return any of my calls, texts or e-mails. I
thought about trying to catch a ride over to his house one day
after school, but I didn’t have his address in Portland and didn’t
want to ask any of the other students if they knew where he
lived.

Michael’s MyWeb account had no recent posts
except for an updated quote underneath his profile picture. It
read: “Be not fearful of death, for death is not fearful of
you.”

His new quote was rather ominous and
concerned me. Why was he talking about death? Was he really that
ill? I wouldn’t doubt he became sick with something, especially
after walking through a snowstorm to get to my house on
Thanksgiving. I didn’t want him to leave that night, but I also
didn’t think it was okay for him to let his parents worry about
him. All he had to do was call them and tell them that he was
safe.

From our past phone conversations, he had
told me that he and his dad really didn’t get along, but that he
adored his mother. I figured he must have had an argument with his
dad that day, which probably prompted him to come and see me. But
he wouldn’t tell me what happened that night or ever for that
matter. That was the problem; Michael was way too secretive.

Sometimes he was forthcoming about things in
his life like his interpretation of the lyrics to his favorite song
or his passion for poetry and writing, but would never talk about
why he missed so much school or what made him so ill.

Either way, he still wasn’t back in school
and we had only one week left until Winter Vacation. I closed my
spiral notebook, put on my hood and rested my head back on the
windowsill. The soft swaying of the ferry lulled me and let my mind
wander. I always seemed to be tired lately. I figured the
constantly cold temperature and lack of sun gave me less energy
during the winter months. Maybe that’s the reason polar bears
hibernated. It made perfect sense. Humans should, too. I knew I
wanted to anyway.

I dozed off and started dreaming about a warm
and cozy snow cave where a fluffy, down sleeping bag and roaring
fire awaited me when, suddenly, I was nudged awake.

I quickly sat up and searched for the source
of my interruption. Tessa Anderson sat beside me, with a grin from
ear to ear.

“What’s up, loser?” she asked.

I laid my head back down and closed my eyes.
I was annoyed. “I was trying to sleep.”

She nudged me again. “Well, wake up, Willow!
We’re home.”

• • •

Up until that day, I didn’t even realize that
Tessa Anderson lived on the island. Never once had I seen her on
the ferry to or from Portland since we had started school back in
September.

Normally I would hang out with Erica and
Taylor on the morning ride in, but rarely caught up with either of
them after school because one or all of us stayed after for
different reasons whether it was for sports, clubs or even extra
help.

After the boat docked, I walked off slowly,
barely awake. My mom was working at my brother’s school, so I
braced myself for a frosty, torturous walk home. I zipped up my
North Face as high as it would go and trudged through the
semi-plowed streets. I was halfway home when a shiny, blue Ford
pickup truck pulled up next to me.

A man rolled down his window and motioned for
me to walk toward him. “Hey, come here.”

I looked around. No one else was in sight. I
was scared and picked up my pace.

He sped up and called to me. “Wanna ride,
Willow?”

I ignored him and walked even faster,
completely freaked out that he knew my name. I was just about to
start running when I heard a high-pitched laughing coming from
inside the cab.

I looked over and saw Tessa pop up from
underneath the dashboard. She was hysterical.

“Willow, calm down! It’s just me and my
brother, Jaques.”

I thought I was going to have a heart attack
or get abducted at the very least, while Tessa and her brother
cackled at my expense.

I was pissed. “Very funny, guys,” I said
sarcastically.

Tessa tried to stifle her laughter and yelled
through the window. “Sorry.”

The truck screeched to a halt and Tessa flung
her door open. “Hop in.”

CHAPTER
TEN

Most of the businesses on Pike’s were
situated on the western and southernmost side of the island so
boats from the mainland could easily travel in and out of the
harbor. It was also where the Casco Bay ferryboats docked and the
part of the island where most year-round residents lived.

Our house was less than a quarter mile inland
from the western shore. After I hopped into Jaques’s truck, I
realized rather quickly that they didn’t live anywhere near me. We
headed east and ended up on Shoreline Drive, the one road that
brought travelers around the whole perimeter of the island. My
house, and the other small houses like it, occupied one side of the
island while Tessa’s was on the less populated, wealthier side,
which allowed realtors to boast them as “beachfront
properties.”

“Are you sure it’s okay with your parents if
I come over?”

Tessa and Jaques exchanged glances and grins.
Tessa turned to me. “Trust me. They don’t care. They’re never home
anyway.”

I stared out the window and watched the waves
crash upon the shore. Some of the magnificent houses sat across the
street from the beach, separated by Shoreline Drive, while others
were directly on the waterfront, perched atop huge parcels of land
right before their yards became rocky and jagged, dropping off
toward the ocean below. I had never been this far out on the island
and had planned on doing more investigating once it got warmer and
I got my driver’s permit.

“So what grade are you in? Willow, right?”
Jaques leaned forward and asked.

“Yeah, that’s my name. I know it’s kinda
weird. I’m a sophomore like Tessa.”

“It’s not weird at all. It’s different. In a
good way,” Jaques smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Talk about weird.” Jaques said. “How about
my name? It’s pronounced Jakes, but it’s spelled j, a, q, u, e,
s.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and turned to me.
“That’s because Jaques is our mom’s maiden name and that’s what her
blue-blooded side of the family does. The first-born son, the
golden child, is always honored with getting some crappy last name
as his first.”

Tessa playfully elbowed her brother. “Isn’t
that right, Jaques?

“Very funny, Tess. You’re just jealous,” he
said and gave his sister a wink. They both laughed.

Tessa’s brother seemed nice. He seemed older
than her; maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, I’d guess. I studied
his profile. He and Tessa looked a lot alike; blonde hair, blue
eyes and had very defined facial features like high cheekbones and
square jaw lines. But Tessa had a softness about her that made her
look totally feminine, while Jaques was definitely all man.

As we drove northeast, I couldn’t help but
wonder how in the world I ended up in a pickup truck with Tessa
Anderson and her brother heading toward their family home. The only
reason I accepted her invitation was because I was totally freezing
and figured it couldn’t hurt to go for a little while. I’d be home
alone anyway until my mom and brother got back from school.

Plus, more importantly, Tessa and I weren’t
friends or even remotely close. Even though we exchanged a few
words in the past, I thought she was stuck up and way too cool for
me. When I really thought about it, though, I couldn’t think of any
girls in school whom she was friendly with. She always seemed to be
hanging out with the guys. Still, I wanted to know why she invited
me over.

“What are we gonna do at your house?”

“Hang.”

Hang? I wished I could have texted Erica or
Taylor right then to give them the low down or at least to ask them
their interpretation of the word “hang.” They’d never believe I was
with Tessa. Ever! All they did was talk about her during lunch and
study hall and say how slutty she was and preached that “you should
never have sex with a guy just to keep him as a boyfriend, even if
it was with Connor Finch” and blah, blah, blah. They’d just go on
and on about her.

“So, where’re you from?” Tessa wanted to
know.

I turned toward her. “Massachusetts.”