It was only once I was outside and the door to the high school had clanked shut behind me that I could breathe again. A handful of buses were parked in the asphalt loop in front of the school, silent and waiting as their drivers congregated off to the side, like dragonriders giving their steeds a break. A few kids stood by the buses waiting - though I couldn't understand why until I noticed the buses' doors were closed.
I silently cursed, and scanned around for someplace out of the way where I could collect myself. My heart was still thudding, and in a few minutes the other students were going to come pouring out of the school behind me, and there'd be nowhere to hide.
After this morning's run-in with the strange man on the trail, my loathing of the forest beside the school had already become ingrained - but I hurried around the far side of a tree that was a little too close to the fence for my comfort. The trunk was stout enough to hide me completely from anyone at the school's front door, and I shakily slid to the ground as my knees buckled.
What had happened back there?
I'd never hallucinated before, but I still couldn't believe what I'd seen in Keiko's painting. The water ... I couldn't deny it had been moving, shifting before my eyes ... and the shadow... Part of my mind was already hard at work, trying to explain the moving painting as a trick of the light, or the product of my overburdened subconscious. I was trying so hard to stifle thoughts of what had happened to Mom, the weird, arm's-length horror of realizing I was technically an orphan - it made sense that something inside me had snapped. Yet still I couldn't believe it.
It had to've been real. Had to've. It wasn't as though I was seeing anything now, in the bright light of day; if I really was going insane, wouldn't I still be hallucinating now?
Even the passing thought of Mom made my chest tighten; without meaning to, I realized I'd been scanning the parked cars, looking for her battered black Jeep and her smiling face inside it, waiting to welcome me back from a long day. But the car was a twisted hulk of metal by now - if it hadn't already been compacted or destroyed.
I hoped it had. It was cursed; I had cursed it, after what it had let happen to Mom.
Anxiety spread outward through my limbs like a cold poison, making it harder to breathe - and I was so distracted that I didn't realize I'd been staring at a familiar face until I recognized the sedan and the rust that patterned it like frost. At the beginning of the day I'd been so eager to avoid him, but now the sight of his raven-dark hair and angular face came as a gush of relief.
He was across the loop, ready to turn left and head toward downtown, but then the little car turned in the opposite direction, toward me. It slid past the motionless buses like a bead along a string, the engine rumbling dully as he pulled to a stop at the curb in front of me.
Ethan leaned over and rolled the passenger window down, the tattoo on his forearm bobbing like an old-timey train piston in grey light. The sky was still overcast, but he seemed even more handsome than usual in the glow from the sterling sky, his dark eyes like obsidian fire.
A roguish grin spread over his face as his gaze found mine. "Someone call for a taxi?"
It was so unexpected that the laugh burst out of me like a hiccup.
"Free rides for anyone who's just finished their first day at a new school," he offered, raising one eyebrow as he threw the car into park and flipped on the hazard lights.
We'd been so snappish at each other this morning, practically shouting at each other in Adaline's front yard - but right now I needed to get the heck out of here, and his timing was positively knightly. Even the vague disappointment that he was only interested in me because of our families' shared history evaporated as I scrambled to my feet and trotted toward the rumbling vehicle, eager to leave this place behind.
He threw the door open for me, but as I sat and tried to close it behind me, slinging my backpack down between my knees, I was unnerved that the handle bounced out of my hand and the door swung open again.
"Sorry about that - the lock's a little ajar, just give it a hard yank," Ethan explained with a lopsided smile. Somehow we kept ending up close to each other - hiking back up the cliff yesterday, then in the doorway this morning. My heart slammed against my ribs again as I tried to close the door, but my hips were twisted the wrong way for me to pull it properly, and the door only rebounded again.
"Here, let me." Even before I could breathe I heard the click of Ethan's seatbelt as it released, and suddenly he leaned across me, reaching for the passenger door's handle with his right hand.
It was a quick, unthinking gesture, but the warmth of Ethan's body was as powerful as live coals as our bodies touched, and his scent filled my nose, like summer earth after a rainstorm. There was a word for it, but his closeness was so overwhelming, his very presence hitting me like a stun grenade, that I couldn't even remember it. The urge to feel the softness of his ink-black hair against my cheek was almost impossible to resist - and I instinctively balled my hands into fists, clinging to myself so I wouldn't get swept away in him like the tide.
The door finally slamming shut beside me was as startling as a gut punch, and I tried to remember how to smile as Ethan straightened back up, an apologetic expression on his vulpine face as he rebuckled himself. "Sorry - didn't mean to scare ya."
"You're good," I replied quickly, looking away and pretending to busy myself with my own seatbelt to hide my burning cheeks. For a second there it was like I'd wanted to ... well, it didn't matter now. He was just my neighbor, and it had been a rough day emotionally. That was all.
Ethan put the car into gear, and to my relief we pulled away from the school quickly, the brick building soon vanishing amid the trees on the winding road. Yet as I turned forward again, the realization that I was alone in the car with him slammed me with a whole new kind of terror. He was talented, nice, and ridiculously hot, while I was no one. What was he doing paying attention to me?
"Hope I don't get in trouble for leaving early," I muttered as the pines closed in around us, trying to remember how to act like a normal human person and not the awkward freak I clearly was.
Ethan's shoulder rose and fell again in a shrug. "Plead ignorance. It's your first day, I doubt they'll draw and quarter you this early on."
I could've laughed if not for the weird Gothic look of the town. Houses were quickly starting to intersperse themselves among the trees as we got closer to the village proper, and they shared the same look as my grandmother's, or Ethan's: tall and narrow, with angular roofs and windows that glared back at me.
Ethan's low, musical voice broke the bubble of silence, startling me again: "Sorry about this morning."
I shook my head, still not trusting myself to look at him. "No worries."
"Seriously, I was being a real ass." He sighed, and I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. His dark brow was drawn with regret, and he stared ahead, thinking. "It's not my place to be protective of you, let alone overprotective."
"You were actually right," I admitted. "There was some dude out there in the woods birdwatching or something ... it kinda freaked me out."
A tendon jumped in Ethan's temple, but his voice was controlled. "Did you see his face?"
I shook my head. "But I'm not going to be walking that way again, I think."
"I'm really glad you're okay." Something about the forcefulness of Ethan's tone made my heart stutter - but then his mouth twisted into a wry smile. "And I'm glad you and Sydney seem to be getting along."
The thought of my new auburn-haired friend brought a smile to my lips. "Yeah, she's awesome."
"Not sure if I should be worried, though," Ethan added cryptically.
I squinted at him. "Worried?"
"We've known each other since kindergarten, so she's got all the dirt on me." Not for the first time, I wondered what kind of connection might exist - or have existed - between Ethan and Sydney, but then he went on, "Though, to be fair, I know about her lifelong crush on Pete Gunn, so fair's fair."
"Uh-huh." I didn't trust myself to say any more; the surge of happiness bubbled up inside me with such sudden violence that I had to swallow it back like a giggle.
It made no sense; this was the same sort of intense emotion I'd felt for Keiko just a few minutes ago, but somehow different, not eclipsing or taking away from that. The thought of her silver hair and violet eyes made my stomach heave afresh - but then Ethan frowned at me again, his jet eyes searching my face. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good." He meant well by being so nice, but it wasn't helping. Each time our eyes met an electric jolt ran through my body, and even when I wasn't staring at him it was as though I could feel him watching me.
Then I remembered what Sydney had mentioned this afternoon, and the words spilled out of me unbidden: "So are we, like, related?"
Ethan inclined his head, and I could almost see him trying to figure out how to phrase whatever he was thinking. "Very, very distantly," he acknowledged after a moment, "but our common ancestry began and ended in the early 1600s."
Oh. Well ... it wasn't the flat denial that I'd been hoping for, but at least that wasn't as horrific as I'd been expecting, on whatever level - and he'd been mercifully specific. Much as I wanted to deny whatever this feeling was every time I looked at Ethan, there was no way in hell I wanted to be feeling it for someone who turned out to be a cousin or a weirdly young uncle. A few times in other schools I'd seen that kind of thing happen, so at least I hadn't blundered my way into a hellish soap opera.
Still, his answer begged another question: "How do you know that?"
"Why are you asking?"
I gaped at him for a moment, foundering as I struggled to conjure up some plausible lie - but Ethan only grinned back at me, as though cheekily proud of himself to have me at a disadvantage. His answer had come faster than a flung dart; was he trying to be infuriating? "Because if you were my cousin or something I'd have a lot of birthday presents to make up for."
"No, although that'd be something," Ethan laughed, and I found myself smiling at the sound of it. Then he added casually, "Back when we were little, our parents used to joke we'd end up getting married."
I stared at him, speechless as the hairs on the nape of my neck prickled. I didn't even know if my mouth was hanging open; I was too shocked by Ethan's words to even care.
"I think we shared a lot of toys, or something?" he went on, too distracted by trying to remember to notice me gaping at him. "Anyway, I guess I was pretty bummed when you and your mom moved away."
One of my backpack straps was snarled around my leg, and I busied myself with straightening it as a pretense for tearing my gaze away from Ethan. His slender, willowy beauty was almost unbearable, especially as I was trying to formulate thoughts. "Wow. That really sucks."
"Yeah." He fidgeted in his seat, straightening a wrinkle in the knee of his jeans. "I mean, I was little, I don't remember much, but that's what they told me."
"Yeah," I echoed quietly, still dazed. "Huh."
I'd never thought I'd been missing out on anything by Mom moving away from Marblehead. It had seemed such a terrible place, the way she'd talked about it - but now that I was getting familiar with the place, even a little bit, it didn't seem the ghastly hell I'd been imaging. Sure, the main street of the town seemed simultaneously cramped and exhausted, as though it had seen far better days, but nothing seemed imminently threatening. And Ethan ... it suddenly made sense why he was paying such close attention to me. It wasn't me he was interested in, of course, just whatever ghostly memories he had from us being two- or three-year-olds ... no doubt his parents had romanticized it in the cutesy way adults always did, like we were matching puppies.
Still...
All too soon the sedan was barrumping its way down a narrow dirt track, and I glanced over at Ethan again, wondering how long it had taken him to earn those callouses on his fingertips from playing his violin. Years, no doubt - years he'd spent thinking about me, while I never even knew he existed. It was unthinkable.
Suddenly the wooden boathouse was before us, and Ethan pulled his rusty sedan to a halt in its shadow, reassuming his mocking role as taxi driver: "Your destination, ma'am."
"Sorry, must've forgotten my wallet," I joked weakly as I wound my fingers around my backpack straps, preparing to flee.
Ethan's dark eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a strange smile. "That's all right."
"Better go - thanks for the ride," I said in a rush, and then flung myself out of the car, slamming the door behind me and bowing my head as I hurried toward the looming building.
Petrichor ... that was the word I'd been looking for, the thing Ethan's scent reminded me of. He smelled like rain - and my lips tingled at the thought of cool drops against them, or maybe Ethan's own.
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NEXT TIME: Mel makes her way to the wooden boathouse to find Adaline - and an unexpected present - as she grapples with her complicated feelings about her forced move to Marblehead.