Ask Me (14 page)

Instead I said, “How about we sit on the swing?”

He had that crooked grin on his face. I wished I knew what it meant. Was he easily amused or always laughing at me? I squeezed past him to step outside, but he took my
hand and led me over to our front porch swing instead of letting me lead the way. It was as well weathered and grey as the house and it moaned and creaked something wicked, but it was sturdy. It was one of the things that had appealed to Gran about this house.

We sat down, but he didn’t release my hand. I curled my legs under me and smoothed my dress down with my free hand. Will pushed us off, and the swing groaned into motion. I could feel my hand starting to sweat and I wanted to wipe it off, but I didn’t want to move it either. I settled for relaxing my fingers as much as possible, my hand lying in his like a limp, dead fish.

I was obviously overthinking this.

“So,” I said, looking out over our front yard with its overgrown tufts of grass and patches of sand, “you and Jade really weren’t dating anymore?”

I swallowed. Maybe it was none of my business, but he
was
holding my hand. Jade hadn’t even been dead for a week. I couldn’t really call her my friend, but she definitely hadn’t been my enemy either. I really didn’t know how all of this worked, but it seemed too soon somehow. On the other hand, maybe that was because of how she had died. Of course, if she hadn’t, we wouldn’t be sitting here or going to her service later. Or maybe the handholding didn’t mean anything at all, other than consoling someone who needed it. Maybe I was reading too much into it.

He didn’t flinch. “Well, we were going to be graduating soon, going off to college, and all that. We always knew it was just a high school thing. And Jade and I didn’t have
much in common. I know people thought we did, but we really didn’t.” I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t turn my head. I probably shouldn’t have brought this up. “She’d been acting kind of weird anyway. I don’t know what was going on with her. Probably that guy Alex. You know she’d been seeing him.” He paused a moment and gave another push to keep the swing going. “You know, I was thinking about it last night. Maybe you could tell me why. Maybe we could even figure out what happened to her.”

“Me? I didn’t really …” I trailed off, realizing what he meant. “I guess so, if you want to try.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay. It seems it’s what I’m here for, right?” I laughed, but it fizzled before it really got started. A future as a stand-up comedian was definitely not in the cards for me.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

I shook my head. If he really wanted to, I could try. It’s not like he didn’t already know I was a freak, like one of those fortune-telling machines. Just stick a question in me instead of a quarter. Really, I wasn’t surprised that he’d asked. If anything, I should be amazed that he hadn’t asked as soon as he figured out what I could do.

“Go ahead, shoot,” I said. “Give it your best shot. But don’t get weirded out by anything I say.” At least we were sitting, in case things got intense or I fainted.

Please, God, don’t let me faint in front of Will
.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me think a minute for the best question to ask.”

I chewed on my lip, still looking out at the yard. Like
Gran said:
Worry about the things you can change and screw the rest
.

“Did something happen recently to make Jade act differently?”

I sat up straighter. My cue. “Yes,” I intoned. The prophetic voice was kind of creeping me out. It seemed to be getting stronger and less like my own voice every day. Of course, I’d been having more conversations with people in the last week than I’d had in ages. I’d also been trying to conceal it less.

“Did it have something to do with the guy that died in the hit-and-run?”

I turned to look at him in surprise. I hadn’t seen that question coming. “Guilt has everything to do with it,” I heard myself reply.

He didn’t look at all shocked by the answer. He smiled grimly at me. “I suspected something. She said a few things that were … strange.” He thought a minute and tried a few pointed questions, but the answers were more riddle than fact. He seemed to be getting frustrated, but so was I. Something was close, so close underneath all my nonsense answers. I could feel it, like it was on the tip of my tongue. I felt heavy, weighed down, almost pinned to the seat.

The swing let out another croaking groan as Will swung it back with more force. We rocked silently for a moment.

“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Can you tell me: Was Jade involved in the hit-and-run somehow?”

“Yes,” I said. Finally, a simple, clear answer. I could hardly believe it, but there it was. I itched to say something, but what? I felt numb inside, and my mouth was dry.

“She was out with Alex last weekend,” Will said quietly, so low that I could barely hear him over the swing. “I told her she should stay away from him.” He turned to me. “You should, too.”

I shivered and looked away. Had he seen Alex running from my house? Did he know Alex had been here to see me? Did he know what Alex had said?

“I have art class with him,” I finally said, watching my skirt flutter as we swung. “But I don’t really know him or anything.” It wasn’t a lie exactly, but I felt guilty all the same. I hoped Will wouldn’t ask me anything directly about Alex. I snuck a peek at him. He was staring off into the trees, his eyes unfocused and faraway. “Didn’t you … I mean, I heard that you went out with Jade last weekend, too.” I went back to concentrating on my skirt, barely breathing. The pattern was circle upon circle, connected to each other in an unending chain. I traced a line with my finger, winding up back where I started.

“I need you to trust me,” he said, his thumb once again slowly working its way back and forth across my hand. “Jade and I really were through. But we did see each other this past weekend, just as friends—on Friday. The guy was run over on Sunday.”

I was sure he must have noticed how hot and sweaty my hand was. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What was I doing?

“Wait,” he said. “I know. How about this … Aria, did I go out with Jade on Friday?”

“In, not out, Friday last. A comedy that no one enjoyed … no laughs, no smiles to be had,” I said softly.

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly. We watched a movie at my house. It was terrible.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Friday.”

He let my hand go, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. I wiped it quickly on my skirt, just in case, but he didn’t pick it up again. Instead, he cupped my chin in his hand and turned my face to his. “Did I love Jade?”

“No,” I whispered. The answer probably should have made me feel better, but instead it made me feel lost and sad.

“Did I ever think there would be a future for me and Jade?”

“Never,” I said. I felt even emptier than before. Jade didn’t have a future, not now.

“See,” he said, and his voice caught. “You said it yourself, and you only speak the truth.”

Will waited in the living room as I went into my room and changed into a drab grey dress. Unflattering, as most of my clothes were, but the most appropriate thing I owned for a funeral service.

Even though he obviously couldn’t see me from where he was, I felt self-conscious, changing as fast as I could, my back to the closed door. I almost pulled out the small stash of makeup I had hidden in my closet, sent by my stepmother to me when I turned fifteen, but I decided not to. It seemed wrong to try and make myself pretty for such an occasion. I settled for brushing my hair until it lay flat and shone.

“You look nice,” said Will as I came out of my room. He was sitting on our couch, flipping through an ancient fishing magazine, looking far more at home than I would have thought possible.

“Thanks,” I said awkwardly. I picked up my backpack
and then set it back down. I didn’t actually own a purse, but it didn’t seem right to take my pack. I fished through it and took out my keys and slipped them into my pocket. I hesitated for a moment and left my MP3 player behind. I couldn’t very well attend Jade’s service with it.

“I really don’t know if I should go,” I said.

“Of course you should,” said Will. “Everyone’s going.”

“But I might … say something,” I said.

He went to me and brushed a strand of my hair from my cheek. “It will be fine,” he said, taking my hand and leading me out of my house. “I’ll be there. Let’s go. You can do it.”

He opened the car door for me and gave me a wink as I climbed in. “If it will make you feel better,” he added, “we’ll sit in the back when we get there.”

I nodded as I got in, taking a breath against the heat that had built up in his car. Black was a cruel color in Florida.

It felt strange to be a passenger in Will’s car, buckled tight into the unscuffed leather seats, the windows rolled up and air-conditioning gently blowing my hair into angel wings. I usually drove myself places, unless I was going somewhere with my grandparents and Granddad always insisted on driving. I felt like a spectator.

He drove faster than I did, faster than the Colt could go, and we were pulling up at the church before I was ready to face everyone. Small groups of mourners were gathered outside, with a snake line of black-clad students making their way inside the double doors. There were a lot of people there. Everyone, it looked like.

He parked in a corner of the parking lot and turned to
look at me. “Do you want to sit here a minute before we go in?”

“It makes no difference to the world, though the eyes upon me will be lessened,” I said. I let go of the door handle. “Ignore that. Yes, I’d like to, please.”

He turned the car back on, and we sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the air-conditioning. I watched as more people arrived, and the parking lot filled up, glad of the tinting on Will’s windows. It was almost time for the service to start when I saw Alex pull in. There were no spaces left, and he turned clumsily onto the grass and hopped out, hurrying across the lawn. He’d cleaned up from his run and wore a suit, though I could tell from where I was that it was a little too small for him and stretched tight across his back. It was probably the same one he’d worn to his brother’s funeral.

Will’s hand on mine tightened. “He’s got some nerve showing up,” he said.

“You really think he … had something to do with it?” I asked.

“I’m sure of it,” he said. “I told the police to take a good, long look at Alex, but I don’t think they believed me.” He gave a snort of laughter. “Why believe another suspect, I guess. Hopefully they figure it out before it’s too late.”

Too late? Wasn’t it already too late? It was definitely too late for Jade. I shivered, and Will switched off the car.

“Anyway,” he said, “are you ready?”

“Not yet,” I said. Honest, as always. “But let’s go.” We couldn’t sit in the car all day. I put my hand on the door handle.

“Hold on, I’ve got it,” he said. He got out and went around to open the door for me. “What kind of gentleman do you think I am?”

“The kind that cloaks himself in mystery.” My eyes widened at what I’d said, but he just laughed and took my hand to pull me out of the car. The humid air hit me like a wall after being in the air-conditioned car.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he whispered in my ear.

That wasn’t true. I had a billion things to worry about. Like getting through the next hour without saying anything else idiotic or insulting someone.

He steered me through the parking lot with his hand in the small of my back, into the First Baptist Church. I had never been inside before. Actually, I hadn’t been inside
any
church in longer than I could remember. After a cousin had once asked me about God and caused me to pass out, I was wary of something similar happening in public. Too many big, unanswerable questions in church.

The pews were completely full, a testament to Jade’s place in our small community. It was surprisingly quiet considering the number of bodies packed into the space; people were even standing at the edges. An overweight woman in a shapeless hat was playing a piano, and there was the rustle of too-formal clothing and the miserable sound of prolonged weeping, but other than that, it was very still. I was grateful for the lack of questions.

Will led me to one of the last open spots near the door. I had a potted plant on a pedestal on one side and him on the other. I stepped back so that the leafy fern
provided some cover for me, but I still felt exposed. It was probably my imagination, but it felt like everyone had stared at us as we walked in. I took a quick look around the room. There was only one person actively looking in our direction: Alex. He was only about twenty feet away, but his eyes were so intently focused on us that I felt like he was right in front of me. I shrank back into the plant, wishing it was larger. Will’s hand was warm on my back.

The last bars of “The Wind Beneath My Wings” faded away, and a black-clad preacher stepped forward to the podium.

“We are here today to honor the memory of Jade Price. I had the privilege of knowing Jade ever since her first days in vacation Bible school, and it was a true pleasure to see her smiling face among my congregation every Sunday.” He paused to clear his throat and look down. “I must admit that this is one of the most difficult eulogies I have ever had to deliver.” He raised his head, and tears were visible, magnified behind his glasses. “Not only have we lost a beloved member of our community and church, but in such a manner as to make even the most devout of us question the meaning behind it.”