Solitary: A Novel (22 page)

"Don't think about it, just answer the question."

I commit. "No."

"You need to. You have to. You really have to."

She grabs my hand. She's beaming and seems to shake with excitement.

"What happened?"

"A miracle," she says, taking her hand back and brushing back her hair.

I stare at her lips for a moment and find myself getting lost in them.

"I tell you, it's a miracle."

"What is?"

"You, Chris. You're the miracle."

Either she's on some strange drugs or somebody has brainwashed her.

"I'm lost," I say.

"I know. It's fine. I just had to tell you that. And have to say that God works in mysterious ways."

"Why's that?"

"Because of you, Chris. Because of you."

We drive for almost an hour. Jocelyn says that she wants to get far away from Solitary, so she drives to Asheville. Mom and I drove through it on our trip here.

I try to press Jocelyn for more info, but none comes. She says she wants to talk to me face-to-face and tell me what's happened. As she drives, the sun starts to fade away and the shadows begin to smother the inside of the car.

"You hungry?"

"No," I say.

"Teenage guys are hungry all the time."

"I left my appetite at school."

Along with reality.

"Come on. Let's get something to eat. I've gone on a lot of dates here."

I think of all the "dates" I've gone on. I don't know how many actually count.

"A lot of older guys have asked me out. Some not knowing my real age. It happens, you know."

"Yeah."

But I don't know. I'm new to this.

We end up at a cool burger joint with modern furniture and snug booths and a rocking vibe. The burgers have unique pairings like pineapple and barbecue sauce or eggs and jalapenos, the latter of which I decide to try.

My questions are building.

Half her hamburger is gone before she takes a sip of her drink and then says, "Okay."

"Okay, what?" I ask.

"Okay, I'll tell you what's going on. I can see it all over your face."

"What?"

"Confusion."

"Yeah, well, for the last couple of weeks-"

"I know, I know," she says. "Just hear me out."

"Okay."

"How's your burger?"

"I want to hear you out," I say, adding, "It's good."

"You need to know, you do have friends at this school."

"What do you mean?"

"You said that everybody wants to keep you away from me. Not everybody. "

"Maybe not Rachel."

"There are others too."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because someone gave me this."

She produces my letter, which looks like it's been trampled on and wrinkled and tossed about.

"Who?"

"I can't tell you who."

"When?"

"Today. This afternoon."

"Where'd they get it?"

"They didn't say. They didn't say anything except that I would want to read it."

"I wrote that a week ago."

Jocelyn touches my arm. "It's beautiful. I don't think anybody has ever said such kind things to me."

"I didn't even know if I was going to give it to you. Then Gus and his friends confronted me in the bathroom and tried to pound my face in, and I ended up running out on them. The letter was in my notebook and got left behind."

"It was unbelievable, what you said. I read it three times in a row. And that's when I knew."

"Knew what?"

"There's so much to tell you, I don't know where to begin."

She takes another bite and finishes it, never taking her eyes off mine.

"First off, first and foremost, I'm sorry about the last two weeks."

"Yeah, me, too."

"No. Don't you dare apologize, Chris. You didn't do a thing wrong. You treated me like a lady and you behaved like a gentleman, and my problem was that I didn't recognize it. That's my problemone of many. But how you acted and how you've been-and now this note. It takes my breath away."

"You take my breath away," I blurt out.

"Thank you."

"That sounds corny."

"Not the way you said it. Not the way you looked when you said it."

"Probably like a ten-year-old."

"Maybe twelve."

"Maybe," I say with a laugh.

"This week has changed everything."

"How?"

"I can't explain. There's too much. I don't want to explain everything-not yet."

"Why didn't you talk to me these past two weeks?" I ask.

"Because I've been scared."

"Why? I'm not going to hurt you."

"No, I know that. I've known that all along."

"Then why? I don't get it."

"Because I've been falling for you and falling hard. And I finally realized it, and it absolutely terrified me."

Hearing her say that, watching her say that, terrifies me.

I can't believe this.

The last couple hours are all like some dream I'll wake up from.

God, if you are up there, then please, please, please let me get what I want.

"Then why did you ignore me?"

"Because I don't want to hurt you," Jocelyn says.

"You won't. How can you?"

"All I know is this. This is the truth: God sent you to me. He used you in the most amazing way ever. Do you believe in destiny?"

"I'm not sure. I'd say no."

"Yeah, well, I didn't either until it slapped me on the face, and I woke up and saw a beautiful, brilliant sunrise and realized that every day we have is a gift. And every smile that comes along is a gift too."

I'm totally lost.

Who is this person, and where did Jocelyn go?

"Not sure what to say."

Jocelyn finishes her meal, then puts the basket over my halfeaten meal. "Don't say anything. Just know this. You're the gift that came along. You and your words."

She stands then and urges me out of the booth.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

The night wind caresses us as Jocelyn winds through the neighborhood streets. She drives with purpose, knowing where she's going. I hold the door handle next to me and glance at her.

The picture is one that I believe I will remember until my dying breath, even if it's a hundred years from now.

Her hair swirls and blends in the darkness. Her eyes seem to radiate, their focus straight ahead, their windows shielding something deep and powerful behind them that I want to see. She looks like she's twenty-six, not sixteen. She looks like she's a woman who doesn't need to be with a boy.

She looks at me with a smile confirms that I shouldn't think such thoughts.

The old, expensive houses pass us by on old-school blocks with old trees towering above, all reeking of old money. It reminds me of some Chicago suburbs. Money is money anywhere. It's a beautiful thing to not be in that world, but to be here in the passenger seat, taking a drive and looking out and wondering where we are going.

Jocelyn turns on the radio.

The tune playing is perfect, and I know after two seconds that it will be our song.

She turns it up and keeps driving, not revealing anything, just driving and listening.

I never want to leave this moment.

"Here," she says. "This is what I wanted to show you."

"This is crazy."

"It's some view, huh?"

I look behind us at the towering stone structure that seems to hover with arms outstretched. The lights from the deck glimmer above us. In front of us, below the falling stairs and the lawns of the golf course, lies the snug and sleeping valley. The downtown of Asheville burns brightly to our left.

"This is called Grove Inn?" I ask.

"Grove Park Inn. Presidents have stayed here. It's legendary. Made of stone. They say it's impossible for it to burn down."

"Have you ever stayed here?"

Jocelyn doesn't answer. "This is one of my favorite views. When it's a clear night like this, you can see forever."

"It's amazing."

Slivers of stairs coil down from the hotel several stories above us. We stand in a small, fenced-in alcove that has two lawn chairs facing out. It's a private nook, one of many scattered around the falling hill.

"The restaurant above us is pretty spectacular," Jocelyn says.

"You've eaten there?"

"A few times," she says.

"Wow."

"Yeah. The sun sets while you're eating, and by the time you get dessert everything around is radiating."

"I can't imagine."

"I wouldn't be able to imagine either. It's a whole other world up there."

"What?"

"The people who stay here. Did you see all those cars in the parking lot?"

"No," I say.

"You didn't? Come on-you're a guy. Guys notice cars."

"My mind was on other things."

Jocelyn smiles. "From any other guy, I'd say please."

"Yeah, I know."

"But you're not any other guy."

"I don't think I am."

"I know you're not."

I don't know what to do, what I'm supposed to do. Should I hold her hand? Put my arm around her? It's a bit chilly here on the side of this mountain with the valley breeze blowing up.

"I wanted you to see something beautiful. Something amazing. There are lots of beautiful things around here. You just have to leave Solitary to find them."

No, you don't.

I want to tell her this, but it sounds like another line.

She continues. "I wanted to get away and have some breathing room, you know?"

"Breathing room?"

"Yeah, a chance to not worry about ... about anything."

The way she says anything makes me worry.

"I know this is crazy, coming up to you at the end of school and kidnapping you."

"I volunteered," I say.

"I know. But after these last two weeks. I'm sorry, Chris."

"Okay. Thanks."

"But I don't want you to just know that. There's something else." She turns her whole body and faces me.

This is what it would have felt like to dance with her, to be so close, to smell her and feel her warm breath in the cool night.

"Can I trust you?"

"Yeah," I say quickly.

"No, I'm serious. I mean this-can I trust you?"

"Trust me with what?"

Her eyes move around, nervous. "Can I trust you with my heart?"

My mouth opens but only swallows a breath. I nod and don't move my eyes off hers.

"There are so many things about me you don't know. Things nobody knows."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. Most of them are not okay. They'll never be okay. But when I hear you say that, I believe you. I believe that they'll be okay. And this faith-it just seems to be dropping onto me like a waterfall."

"You can trust me. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm not worried about me," Jocelyn says. "I'm worried about you."

Beyond the girl standing in front of me, the valley of Asheville hovers and seems to hold its breath, waiting to see what happens next.

"I don't want you to worry about anything."

She's just a few inches shorter than me. I move my head down a bit to kiss her cheek, touching her arm as I do.

It's sweet and innocent, and it's all I can think to do.

Jocelyn doesn't let me move away. She locks her arms around me and embraces me for a long time, her head leaning over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to me.

"It's okay," I say. "You apologized. It's done."

"No."

"It's fine."

She moves and faces me again, a look of fear on her face. "That's what you don't understand. It's not done. It hasn't even started yet."

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"I can trust you, right?"

I nod.

"Then hold me. Hold me and don't say a word."

And that's what I do.

Something changes when the jeep winds its way around the mountain roads into Solitary. It's not just something with Jocelyn. It's something inside of me.

Things feel different.

The temperature feels cooler. The darkness outside looks thicker. Even the street seems more desolated.

Don't take me home, not tonight. I don't want to go there. I don't want to leave you.

And yet that's exactly what I have to do.