Insight (21 page)

I don’t eat all weekend. Food turns my stomach. I don’t sleep.

I walk outside daring that shadow to come out. The thing that moves. I have nothing to lose right now. “Come on!” I yell. “Where
are
you! Stop hiding!” My vision is swimming. No calories. No sleep.

I see nothing.

“Come get me if you want to! Just get it over with already!”

My cell phone rests in my hands for what feels like hours hoping for Landon to call, or for me to have the guts to talk to Dad, but I can’t make my fingers press the buttons. Mom does her pickup for fresh milk out at the dairy farm and Ethan goes with her. They’re going to make a day of it. I tell her I think I have the flu. There’s no other explanation I can give for what a disaster I am.

Maybe my yelling is keeping Landon from calling. Maybe he’s pushed all the hurt from Lacey away and our fight brought it all back.

Mom kisses my forehead, and I get hit with how she’s falling in love with Ethan. I bite my lip to keep from crying until she walks out the door.
How will I survive school?
TWENTY

“Can I get a ride today?” I ask Mom.

She’s afraid to ask why I need one. I can see the hesitation all over her face. “Did something happen?” She picks her bag off the floor.

Did something happen. What a loaded question. I want to scream back. Yes! Someth
ing happened! I see things, Mom.
And my life sucks because of it.
And
I’m a coward and can’t tell you.
And then I found someone I could tell, someone who wasn’t you. And then I didn’t tell
him the one thing I should have.
And now he hates me because of Lacey, almost as much as
I hate myself because of Lacey.
Isn’t that awesome?

And that’s my life.

Right there. Right here.

“Landon just needs some space. That’s all.” But it’s not all. It’s everything.

I didn’t get involved with people because I was arrogant enough to feel like it would suck to see someone walking away from me, and for whatever reason I assumed it would be their fault. Well, this is all my fault. It weighs me down and pulls on me hard.

“Come here, honey.” Mom reaches her arms out. But that’s the last thing I want right now. She touches me anyway.

A flash of bright, a flash of fear, and blackness.

I jerk my hand away. What was that? I’d forgotten about the white and black vision I had from her, but this one involved fear, too. What’s happening?

“Micah?” Mom touches me again and
it’s Ethan’s face, his arms are wrapped tightly around her. Love.

“No.” I back away from her, walk around her, and step out the front door. What kind of craziness was that? And now I’m back to being worried about getting to school.

Landon might be there. It might be a misunderstanding. He might forgive me.

“Micah?” She sounds hurt and confused, but I don’t really have anything left in me to feel bad. It’s all used up.

“Please, Mom. I don’t want to be comforted. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want a ride.” Only I know my voice doesn’t work right. And I’m sure I’ll get some kind of lecture or something from her, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to talk, and I don’t want to think.

I pull open the car door and sit in the passenger’s seat hoping she lets me be silent.

She does.

It’s probably going to be the best part of my day.

***

No black mustang today. No Landon. Just small bits of conversations.

He’s gone for the week…rehab...? I don’t know…he was the one who found her…drinks too much…went from Lisa to Brigitte to that new girl, Micah…no idea what he sees in her…wonder what kind of royal treatment he’s getting from whoever his dad hired to help out…will he be back this year...? You know the Michaels, he’ll be back or people will start to talk…

Nothing makes sense. Not my classes. Not my schedule. I can’t remember my locker combination. How can one weekend do that to you? Even though the walk to the Michael’s property from school is long, I do it anyway. I don’t want to face anyone, not even Mom.

When I’m on the last small road near the house, I remember that I might not want to be alone out here. Not with the things I’ve been seeing. My eyes scan and then drop to the pavement. Part of me wants to see, and part of me would rather be oblivious if something from the trees is after me.

After me
.

I hit the driveway and step through the open gate. Nothing. Maybe I was right the first time. Maybe it was Lacey, or my imagination creating a Lacey until I told Landon. Well, I did. “Happy now?” I ask. My voice doesn’t echo. The trees soak it up and deaden the sound. “Maybe now you’ll
leave me alone
!” I scream it at the top of my lungs, my fists clench together so tightly I can feel my fingernails digging into my palms.

Movement in the trees strikes me again, but again, it’s in shadow. I can’t make out a shape. I tense to run after it, to make it do its worst, but I don’t have it in me.

“Coward!”

The word is for both me and whatever non-existent thing is watching from the woods. If there’s anything really out there. The sound of my breathing is the only thing I can hear. I listen as the trees soak up even that small sound. The sound that’s so loud in my head, but still not loud enough to destroy things I don’t want to think about.

I’m in bed when Mom gets home and beg for a few days off of school. She’s worried to the point of being speechless, but relents. She’s touched me over and over. I wait to see the odd vision of the bright white and the fear and the black, but it doesn’t come. Why would it? If it did I could maybe make sense of it. Maybe I really am going crazy. Having visions that feel broken and seeing things in the woods doesn’t paint a very bright fu
ture
.

But in here I’m safe. My room is safe. No one can touch me. Maybe
my chest will heal from Landon. M
aybe the way I’m spliced apart will slowly melt together if I can stay lying down. If I can force myself to not move. It’s surprisingly easy. Be still. Be still. Be still.

I make it to Thursday. I’ve barely moved. My legs are stiff. My arms are stiff. I’ve stared at the TV, unwilling to make my brain work enough for even a book. Mom doesn’t go out with Ethan. I can tell she’s coming straight home from school. I can’t talk to her. There’s too much back-story. Too many things I can’t say for my devastation to make any sense. She sits in silence in the living room. I lay in silence in my room.

We live in the house of things unspoken.

***

The problem with staying in bed for days is that now, when I want to move, everything hurts—my head, my neck, my back, my legs.

It’s late at night. I don’t know what time. Only the last bits of twilight are left, and Mom’s already in bed. I’ve been in and out of sleep for days, but if I don’t snap out of it soon, Mom’s sure to send me to a shrink or something.

I know I could call Dad, but I’m just not ready to try and explain. I also know he’s trying to put puzzle pieces together to help Carol. And I know that he’d worry too much, and he’d also maybe suggest I tell Mom. Though, he’s told no one as far as I know, so maybe he wouldn’t. And now I’m back to my original thought, which is that I’m just not ready to talk to Dad.

I stumble to the front door in my pajama pants and a hoodie to slide my shoes on. Maybe going down to the water will help. Rumor at school is that Landon’s gone for the week, and he’s the only one I’ve ever run into down there. Except for the Lacey shadow, if that’s what it is. If that
is
what it is, maybe she’s gone now that Landon hates me.

I step outside and start on our trail down to the water. It’ll be black this time of night. There’s no breeze. Black glass. I look forward to it. The darkness, and even facing whatever’s lurking around my house.

One foot in front of the other. I remember how to walk. This is good. I’m okay. I try to suck in a deep breath of night air, but my chest still doesn’t work right, and I cough instead.

A skip, a movement, again out of the corner of my eye. “That’s it! I told you to leave me alone!” I run, blindly through the woods. I’m chasing. I swear I see something, skipping, running ahead of me. Whatever’s out here definitely has a form. A shape like a person.
What am I doing?

My body freezes, and I realize I’m only a few steps away from the edge of the dock. There’s a whooshing, pounding noise in my ears, and it takes a while for me to realize that it’s my heart. My legs nearly buckle as I realize I’m alone. In the dark. Am I crazy?

I move toward the water instead of home—all I care about now is staying out of the trees. How many times have I chased a shadow toward the water?

The ocean looks just like I expected it would—black glass. Could I jump in? Would the cold shock me back to reality?

No. It would probably kill me. I’d be sucked down into the dark.
Half of me wonders what it would feel like to drown in the freezing water. But I’m not the kind of girl to be this pathetic over a boy.

But, Landon. Hazel–eyed, wide-smile, Landon. My thoughts aren’t even making any sense to
me
.

Landon.

Landon who is already down here sitting on the edge of the dock. How did I not see him?

My feet plant. I’m stuck. I may as well have my legs in hardened cement. There’s no moving from this spot. Not right now.

He tilts a bottle to his lips, swinging his feet underneath him. He’s drinking. This is it, what I saw from him. Stupid, stupid, visions. I know how he’s wallowing in self-pity right now and it makes me mad. Angry. Neither word shows the hurt I feel.

“You’re such an asshole.” The words just leave my mouth. I didn’t ask them to. I didn’t want to say anything. I wanted to disappear. I
want
to disappear.

He stood in my living room and told me my worst fears were true. That I should have done something. Even though I didn’t know what, or who to tell.
He
walked out on
me
.

His head turns. “Brave words coming from you.” He takes another drink. There’s drinking on every movement. His arms sway, his body sways, his head sways. “I’m still mad, by the way. It’s just harder to show it when I’m this hammered.” He scratches his face and almost loses his balance. He’s scooted far over the edge that he’s already half off the dock.

“What are you trying to do? Kill yourself the way she did? What the hell purpose does that serve?” Every muscle in my body is tight, tense, waiting.

“I told you! I’m still mad at you!” His voice is loud, but the edges of his words are soft. He’s had too much to drink for them to sound any other way.

“You’re mad at me because I saw something, only I didn’t know what I was seeing, not really. And you’re trying to kill yourself with the same thing! Brilliant, Landon! Real smart!” I’m done. This is ridiculous. I never imagined that I’d try to stand up for myself as far as Lacey’s concerned, but I can’t help it now.

He jumps up and comes toward me. His arms outstretched, like guys do when they’re about to get into a fight. “What do you want from me, Micah? To say that it was okay? What you did? Keeping shit from me like that when I told you everything? Told you things I hadn’t told
anyone
? I hate that I’m mad at you! And I love you. And it makes it so much worse!”

I don’t flinch. Even though he’s angry, tense, and about six inches from my face. What I did. I did nothing. That’s the problem. My heart skips.
Loves me?
Doesn’t matter. Not now. Not anymore. “It wasn’t okay.” I shake my head. “I should have done everything. And I did nothing. It hurts, and it sucks for me, too.” He wants to compare scars from this? We’ll compare scars from this. My jaw’s clenched trying to keep from crying.

He throws the bottle into the dark and we both wait for the small splash. “My mom has spent thousands and thousands of dollars for what I’m about to tell you right now.” He stares at me, but it’s like his eyes can’t hold still. Like he’s drunk so much that his brain is swimming, floating on a haze of something that smells like the whiskey Mom sometimes puts in her coffee.

His finger points at my face. “It’s not your fault. She made her own decisions.” He snorts out a laugh like he doesn’t believe a word of it. “And now I’m worth five hundred an hour!” He yells.

He reaches out to touch my arm.
Soft light. Branches across my walls. His arms are around me. Gently. Softly. He’s full of love, compassion, sorrow, relief.

No, no, no, no… We’re WAY past that now. I’m pissed at him. Well, I’m starting to think things can be changed. If that’s true, I can keep this from happening, too. “Don’t touch me! You’re acting selfish and spoiled and like you deserve every ounce of the reputation you’ve brought down upon yourself!” I push him away from me, hard.

He staggers once. “What did you see?” He grabs me, and I’m hit with the vision again. His eyes are swimming. His nose is inches from mine. I hate Landon drunk. It’s pathetic.

“It doesn’t matter because I’ll make sure it
doesn’t happen
!” My face is wet with tears, and I’m not even sure when they started.