Breathless (13 page)

Maybe it's hopeless."

Another thought occurred to me. "Do you want to leave?" Maybe Jason just didn't like it here.

He turned to me. "No," he said. "I don't want to. I wish I could stay here forever."

So did I. "So, stay," I said.

"But Hallam—"

"Let the police deal with Hallam."

"They'd be no match for him," said Jason, shaking his head.

Really? I believed Jason when he said that Hallam was dangerous, but the idea of one guy overtaking numerous police officers? It seemed unreal. I caught Jason's eyes with my own. "I don't want you to leave," I said.

Jason gazed into my eyes. His lips parted slowly. Our faces were so close. I looked at his lips. I thought about—

And then I tore my gaze away from Jason. What was wrong with me? Frantically, I looked around the room for something else to talk about.

"We finished
1984
today in English," I said. "You missed it." I still didn't look at him.

"That's too bad," said Jason. "I really like that book. Orwell is brilliant."

"Yeah," I said. "He really is."

We were quiet. I still wasn't looking at Jason.

"Should I go?" Jason asked.

I swung my eyes back to him violently. "No! I don't want you to leave. I don't know how to make that clearer to you!"

"I meant your room," said Jason.

"Oh." I felt stupid. "No, you can stay. It's fine."

"Okay," he said.

And then we didn't say anything for a long time.

"Um..." I floundered. "Do you read stuff like Orwell for fun?"

"Sure," said Jason. "I guess. It's been a while since I read anything for fun. What about you?"

"I like Dan Brown," I said. "I think stuff like that—like secret societies and the Illuminati—is interesting."

"If you like the Illuminati, you should read Robert Anton Wilson," said Jason.

Book recommendations, huh? I liked Jason. There were so many layers to him. I just wanted to unpeel them all. He was so enigmatic, like a puzzle. I wanted to solve him.

Understand him.

Jason looked serious again. "I can't stay, Azazel," he said.

"In my room? Sure you can. I mean, I do eventually have to get back to my French homework, but—"

"I mean here. I mean in your house. I can't be here."

"You have to," I said. "How are you going to leave?"

He made a face. "I know," he said. "And all of that is just strange. I'm not allowed to leave." He pointed at the ankle monitor. "This is overkill, don't you think?"

It did seem like everyone was trying very, very hard to keep Jason from going anywhere. I was grateful, but I did think they only gave ankle monitors to criminals.

Jason stood up. Faced me. "When Sheriff Damon found me hitchhiking, he handcuffed me and threw me in the back of his car."

"Well," I said. "You are my parents' foster child, legally. They have a responsibility to you. Technically, you're legally bound to be here."

"I guess," said Jason. "But there was a search party, and everyone was on red alert to find me. That doesn't make any sense."

Sure it did. We'd all been worried about Jason's safety. Well, I'd been worried about Jason's safety. I guess everyone else had too. Was he right? Was it too much? "Maybe you're just not used to what it's like for people to care about you," I said.

"Maybe," said Jason. "But I don't think so. Something weird is going on in this town."

* * *

As I was falling asleep that night, I couldn't help but think about what Jason had said.

Was something weird going on in Bramford? Things had gotten strange after Jason arrived, but I couldn't put my finger on why exactly that was. For the most part, things were going on exactly the way they had been. Nothing was strange.

Nobody liked it when I spent time with Jason. Toby was jealous of him. Lilith had told me to stay away from him. My dad had made a comment that I'd been spending too much time with him. But maybe they were all just concerned about my safety. If Jason were tied to some dangerous group of people who were tracking him, it made sense that they wouldn't want me to be around him all the time.

There was also the fact that Lilith and Toby had both said something about not being allowed to tell me things or to do things with me. Who was telling them that? Who said they weren't allowed? And today in the lunch line, they'd been almost civil to each other for a second. Then they'd been talking about something they both understood, but I didn't understand. What was it that Toby and Lilith had in common?

How could they have anything in common? They hated each other. They'd hated each other for years. I didn't understand. That was definitely weird.

But it didn't really mean anything, did it? There were lots of reasons why Lilith and Toby could say they weren't allowed to do something. It was probably unrelated. I was worried because I'd been talking to Jason. Jason was paranoid, with good reason.

I could tell that he hadn't had an easy life. He probably saw conspiracies and danger under every rock. Talking to him was making me paranoid. That was all there was to it.

Then there was the mystery of Jason himself. He appeared out of nowhere, running for his life from an unseen person or group of people. He claimed the people after him were dangerous. That they were fanatics—Freemasons with guns. Jason was usually composed and unemotional, but he knew how to fight. I'd watched him incapacitate at least three guys who looked bigger and stronger than him. He was very well educated.

He'd read all kinds of things. He was smart. He could out-argue my dad, and Ms.

Campbell was dazzled by his brilliance.

Hallam—the man who'd come after him—had claimed Jason was his brother, and there'd been a certain sincerity to what he had to say. I'd almost wanted to believe him. In the picture he'd brought, Jason looked happy. Jason made his past sound like it had been horrible. Had it always been horrible? At one point, when that picture had been taken, he'd been happy. I had to consider the possibility that Jason wasn't telling the truth. What had happened to him? Why was he running? And were we all in as much danger as he claimed? I didn't know the answer to any of those questions.

I did know something else, though. Something unsettling. There was something to Toby's accusations. Earlier that night, when Jason had been sitting on my bed, so close to me, I'd looked at his face, and I'd thought about kissing him. I'd been out of my mind with worry when I thought he was in danger. And I liked being around Jason. The thought of being around him for an indefinite period of time sounded like a wonderful idea to me.

It wasn't too serious. I still loved Toby. Toby and I had been through a lot together.

He was the person who I wanted to lose my virginity to. I wanted us to be together for a very long time. I'd never do anything to hurt him. I knew that.

But Jason was beautiful and mysterious and kind of dangerous. He'd saved me. And when I was around him... But none of that meant anything. I didn't want to worry about it too much. I had a crush on Jason. That was all. I had to be careful, because I owed it to Toby, to the man I loved, to be faithful. These feelings I had for Jason would fade away eventually. But I did have to acknowledge they existed.

Chapter Eight

morningstar68 (06:24:16): we almost lost him. it's been a terrifying 24 hours. sorry I haven't been in touch.

michaela666 (06:24:57): it's understandable. but you're certain he won't be escaping again.

morningstar68: (06:25:08): Impossible. we've got him under lock and key.

michaela666 (06:25:35): and the man who seems to be pursuing him? is there a chance of rescue?

morningstar68: (06:26:12): he seems more scared of them than he is of us. or, more accurately, he isn't frightened of us at all. he has no idea what we're planning for him.

michaela666 (06:26:45): Good.

morningstar68: (06:27:10): samhain is days away. It's almost over.

After being so honest with myself, I didn't know how to be around Jason anymore. At breakfast, our hands brushed when we reached for the same cereal box. I recoiled as if he'd stung me. He shot me a strange glance, but I avoided his eyes. When Toby arrived to pick me up, I felt strange around him too. I felt guilty when I got into his truck. Here was Toby, a gorgeous boy, like an angel or something. He was blonde and tan and strong. He was a Ken doll. How could I be finding another boy attractive when I had this? He leaned across and kissed me, and I felt horrible.

In English, I found myself staring at Jason across the classroom. He talked so much that it seemed normal to watch him. Even after missing a day of school, he was caught up on the reading. He offered his viewpoint on the poem by Robert Herrick we were discussing.

Ms. Campbell said, "It's hard to explain the word 'coy,'" she said. "I think the best modern equivalent is that it means a girl is being a tease."

Jason raised his hand. "I don't think so," he said.

Ms. Campbell spread her hands. "Okay, Jason. What do you think it means?" she asked.

"If the virgins in the poem were being a tease, then it would mean that they truly wanted to get married as Herrick urges, but they were just playing hard to get." Jason was so dark. His hair fell into his huge dark eyes. His face was shaped like a heart.

Ms. Campbell nodded. "I've always read it that way," she admitted.

"Don't you think that implies a little bit of cynicism on Herrick's part?" Jason asked.

"If they're all just teasing these guys, then they're sort of...well, they're more world wise than innocent."

"If Herrick didn't think the virgins wanted to get married, would he be telling them to do it?" Ms. Campbell asked.

"It's a didactic poem," said Jason. "Herrick is giving fatherly advice. He's telling the virgins what he thinks would be good for them, because he doesn't think that they know what it is."

I looked from Jason, who was animated and engaged with Ms. Campbell, completely invested in the meaning of a poem from hundreds of years ago, to Toby, who was flipping idly through the textbook as if he were too bored to be bothered. Toby was the all-American boyfriend. He was what every girl should want. Jason was odd. He was the antihero. He was the guy in the movie that pined over the popular girl, but never got her. Why did I find him so appealing? What was wrong with me?

"If what you're saying is true," said Ms. Campbell, "then the poem takes on dirty-old-man overtones. Now, Herrick is telling a bunch of teenage girls who haven't given marriage a second thought to get married?"

"No!" said Jason. "No way. I just think everyone's motives are pure in the poem. I don't think the girls are trying to lead anyone on."

And then our eyes met. Damn it. Was that some sort of hidden message? Was Jason saying that I was leading him on? Anguished, I turned away from him. I gazed at Toby.

"What do you think, Azazel?" asked Ms. Campbell.

"What?" I said.

"Your expression," she said. "I thought you had a thought."

"I think..." I trailed off. "I think that the virgins do want to get married, in some way.

But that they also recognize that the alternative is what they know. And they're used to that. So maybe they don't want to seize the day just yet."

Ms. Campbell nodded. She paused. "Azazel, would you mind talking to me at the end of class? It's nothing bad, I promise."

"Okay," I said, terrified, even though she'd said it wasn't anything bad.

Ms. Campbell addressed the class. "Come on, people, don't let Jason take over the conversation. What do you think?" No one said anything. "Thinking is cool, I swear,"

she said. "I'm not going to stop trying to convince you guys of this."

At the end of class, I approached Ms. Campbell's desk. It was covered with stacks of papers, and she was going through them, as usual. She looked up and saw me. "Oh Azazel," she said. "Thanks for staying. This will only take a minute."

"Okay," I said.

"Don't look so scared," she said. "I told you it wasn't anything bad. I, um, I've noticed you've been a little distracted lately."

She said it wasn't bad! "I'm sorry," I said. "I'll try to do better."

"No, that's not what I mean," she said. "Since Jason got here, I know things have been kind of tumultuous in your home life. It's understandable. I'm not a counselor, so I'm not qualified to give advice or anything like that. But I just want you to know that I am here, if you need someone to talk to. Someone that's outside of the whole situation."

"Really?"

"Really." She smiled. "You're a bright kid, Azazel. And there are other things in life besides English that are important." She considered. "Well, not many. But a few."

"Thanks, Ms. Campbell," I said.

French class was easier because Jason wasn't there. I tried not to let my thoughts wander, but I felt like I couldn't help it. The worst thing about all of it was that I might hurt Toby. I didn't want to do that. I cared so deeply about Toby. I didn't want him to be hurt. And I didn't want him to hate me. For the first time, I wondered if it wouldn't be easier if Jason just wasn't there. But I knew that wasn't true. I couldn't sacrifice Jason's safety, because I was confused about my love life.

Still, after French, I just couldn't bear the thought of facing him in history class. I knew my dad would notice if I wasn't there. I knew I was going to get in trouble. But I didn't care. I told Toby I was going to the bathroom, and then I just left the school.

Bramford High was situated on a hill that looked down over Route 50. Behind the school, there was a wooded area. There was a path through it. We'd gone walking on it in tenth-grade science when we were learning to type trees from their leaves. I walked out the doors by the gym, crossed the parking lot, and went into the woods. I just needed to be alone. I needed to think. There had to be some way that I could just erase the feelings I had for Jason.

I couldn't have them! They were ruining everything. I tried to think of ways that I could stop thinking about Jason. Maybe I didn't have a crush on him anyway. Maybe I just needed to know who he was and where he came from. Maybe I couldn't get him out of my head because he was a mystery that I couldn't solve. Maybe if I figured it out, all of these weird, annoying feelings would just dissolve.