Flicker (8 page)

I wish I'd brought my camera.

He gives me a sidelong glance and squeezes
my hand. "What'cha thinking?"

"I was just wondering why the hell it took
us so long to do that."

He lifts my hand to kiss it and butterflies
zip through me. "I thought the same thing."

I look up at him. "And?"

He turns us down a path leading to a
two-story building with an atrium. "I guess I was afraid we'd ruin
our friendship. But I gotta tell you, right now that seems like a
stupid reason."

I stop so suddenly that Cameron, still
holding my hand, jerks around.

"What's wrong?"

I look up at the building, a slight tremor
running through me.

It's the monkey house.

"I don't want to go in there."

"To the monkey house? You're serious?"

I narrow my gaze at him and refuse to
budge.

"Okay, you're serious. But what do you have
against monkeys? You've never said anything about them before."

I take a step back. "It's not the monkeys.
It's the building. My dad…" I turn around and hurry towards a
bench. I need to sit down.

Cameron runs to catch up, puzzlement
darkening his features. "How do I not know that you have a thing
with the monkey house?"

I snort. "I don't have a thing, I just can't
go in there." Dad's seizure last night blurs with memories of the
one all those years ago, and I can't catch my breath. I sink onto
the bench and reach for Cameron's hand, tugging him next to me.
"One of my earliest memories is my dad having a seizure. In there."
I nod at the building and the atrium winks back at me. I blink
against the reflection.

"I don't get it. He has them a lot." He
tilts his head, trying to understand the craziness that is my
brain. "You still go in your house."

"I know, but this was the first one
that I remember. All the others…"
how do I
explain this?
"It's like I compare every other one to
the first one. It was so awful—the monkeys screaming and my mom
crying over my dad while everyone stared—that I've never been able
to forget it. I guess I'm afraid that going inside would make the
memories even stronger."

The darkness in his face shifts. "That I
get."

His sister, duh. I'm whining about a scary
memory and his sister is gone. Presumed dead. And he was a suspect.
"Yeah, I guess you do." I rub my thumb over his fingers. "So can we
skip the monkeys?"

He pulls me close, wrapping his arm around
my shoulders. "We'll go wherever you want."

I lean my head against his shoulder,
thinking. A slow smile spreads across my face. "The bat house."

He jerks away. "Bats?" He looks at my
beaming face and shakes his head. "Just when I think I understand
you."

But it makes perfect sense. They live in
complete darkness; the triggers for my headaches and everything
else are non-existent in their world. If it wasn't for the poop I'd
contemplate actually living in a bat house. That, and the fact that
bats freak the shit out of me.

*****

Cameron drapes his arm over my shoulders as
we leave the bat house. "I knew you were messing with me."

It turns out it wasn't as cool as I
expected. Yes, it was dark, but bats are noisier than I thought and
bear an alarming resemblance to rats. Flying rats that screech and
swoop and stink. A lot.

The sun has sunk lower in the sky,
lengthening the shadows until they completely cover the grounds.
Animals pace near the rear of their open-air cages, waiting for
their dinner. People huddle near the guardrails, anxious for a
glimpse of the carnage.

My stomach growls. "So what's next? More
breaking and entering? Maybe knocking over a taco stand?"

"You hungry?"

I nod against his shoulder and we turn
awkwardly towards the rear of the zoo. Our bodies aren't familiar
enough with each other to walk arm and arm with the same gait. I
trip when our hips collide, then he steps on my toe. I pull away
and slide my fingers through his.

There's no sign of whoever chased us near
the back fence, but we wait a few minutes before slipping through
the creaky gate.

Inside the car I crank the heater and sit on
my hands. As much as I bitch about the sunlight, at least it keeps
me warm.

Cameron drives to McDonald's and he places
our usual order—two quarter pounders, two large fries, two orange
sodas—then parks so we can eat.

I rip open the paper and take a huge bite,
but I'm unable to swallow. Stupid butterflies just reminded me that
I'm inhaling my hunk of meat in front of the boy I like. I've never
been one of those girls who can't eat in front of guys, but I do
try to use a little self-control. I peek at Cameron through my hair
and laugh.

He's halfway through his burger and has a
handful of fries at the ready. He must sense me watching because he
juts his chin at my food. "I thought you were hungry."

I still have a lump of burger in my mouth,
so I just nod and chew slowly.

We eat quietly—well, as quietly as one can
eat with a seventeen-year old boy—then he starts the car. "Is the
boat ramp cool?"

"Yeah, sure." My heartbeat quickens. It
won't be the same with other people, but I'm kind of excited to see
what people will say when they realize me and Cameron are…
together.

Chapter 11

A half-dozen kids are sitting on the trunks
of their parked cars when we arrive. Some alternative band I don't
recognize is blaring from an mp3 player. It's too early for a fire
and the chill from the river goes straight through my sweater.

"Do you still have that blanket?"

Cameron retrieves it from the trunk and we
glance nervously at each other before approaching our friends. I
texted Amelia after we ate so I knew she'd be here in a little
while, but I wished she'd hurry up. Now that heads were turning our
way I wish we'd gone someplace else. I'm not ready for this—

"New couple alert!" Our friend Joey props an
elbow against his windshield and eyes us. "When did this
happen?"

"No wonder you two've been MIA," said Jason,
Joey's partner-in crime. I've known Joey and Jason, or Double J as
we all call them, almost as long as I've known Cameron. With their
light brown shaggy hair and blue eyes they could almost pass for
twins, and I suspect they've encouraged that impression.

Cameron presses his hand against the small
of my back, lifting the hem of my sweater until his fingers brush
my skin. A jolt of electricity shoots through my stomach and keeps
heading south. Heat flushes my face and it suddenly occurs to me
that everyone is staring.

"So?" asks Travis, a scrawny guy who tags
along with Double J. He's supposedly a kick-ass wrestler, but I
find him obnoxious. He's always trying too hard. "You two gonna
talk or you want us to guess?" He elbows Jason. "I bet I can come
up with a good story."

"Travis, quit being a jackass."

I smile at Haley, Travis's girlfriend. I
can't for the life of me figure out why she wastes her time with
him. They spend most of their time either fighting or ignoring each
other, but hey, who am I to criticize?

Cameron laughs. "It's no big deal. I finally
convinced Biz she's been wasting her time with those putzes
and—"

No one speaks.

I turn around and my heart sinks. Robbie is
standing behind us. He must have gone to the woods to pee. "Thanks
for the warning, assholes," I mutter.

"Putz?" Robbie answers Cameron but he's
glaring at me. "It's bad enough you already found some other guy to
follow you around, but you gotta talk shit about me, too?"

"Cam is not some guy."

Cameron opens his hand so his entire palm is
flattened against my back. Distracting me. "Biz, save your breath.
He's not worth it."

"That's not what she thought two weeks
ago."

"Dude, let it go. No one else gives a
shit."

"I can't believe you're even wasting your
time with her. You know she'll drop you in a couple weeks, just
when you start to really like her."

Those last words sting. I never meant to
hurt Robbie but that's exactly what I've done. And now we're
rubbing his face in it. "Cam, let's just go."

Robbie flexes his fists, his body tense.
"Don't do me any favors." He scans our friends' faces. "I'm outta
here." He jams his hand in his pocket and yanks out his keys, then
storms across the parking lot to his car. “Figures she’s sticking
by him now that another kid is missing.”

Cameron’s grip on my hand tightens and my
jaw drops. No one says a word.

Did he really just say that? Do people
think still Cameron had something—

A spray of gravel cuts off my thoughts.

"Very mature!" I shout after him.

Joey slaps his hand on the trunk of his car.
"Well that was fun. Now who's ready for a drink?"

A beer can sails through the air. Cameron
catches it before it smacks me in the chest. Another follows and I
flinch. He silently hands one to me, the casual smile from earlier
replaced with a scowl.

“
Don’t pay attention to Robbie,” Haley
says, smiling at me. “He was bitching about you before you got
here. He’ll get over it.”

Her words don’t exactly make me feel better,
but I didn’t come here to worry about my ex. Determined to push him
out of my head, I open my beer, spraying foam all over my hands. At
least it didn't get on my sweater. My parents don't drink and I
swear they can smell it even after I've washed my clothes.

Double J and Travis chug half their beers in
one gulp, but Cameron takes it easy. We both like to drink with our
friends but I get headaches enough without giving myself a
hangover. I never really questioned Cameron's reasons, but I'm glad
he doesn't like to get trashed.

"Let's sit down." I don’t know how Cameron
brushes off comments like Robbie’s, but I guess he’s had years to
get used to it. He hands me his beer and I step back so he can
spread out the blanket. We settle next to each other and I
immediately jump up.

Everyone stares at me.

I lift the edge of the blanket and kick at
the gravel. "Got a stone up my ass."

They all laugh and I sit back down, happy to
have lightened the mood.

Travis belches. "You know who else's got a
stone up his ass?" He launches into a story about the wrestling
coach and I lean back on my hands. Cameron shifts so his arm is
against mine and I tune out Travis's yammering. The beer is
starting to take effect and I close my eyes, letting the
lightheadedness take over. This is why I drink. Not to get drunk or
feel uninhibited—that's Amelia's main reason—but to be free of the
constant need to keep my flickering in check. Sitting in the
darkness, I don't have to worry about flickering accidentally, but
it's never far from my thoughts. With beer—I take another sip—all
that goes away.

Cameron's head touches mine. "It's nice to
see you finally relax."

I smile at him and my breath catches. He's
so close, his eyes just inches from mine. The alcohol urges me
closer to him but I resist. I'm not into PDA.

But he, apparently, doesn't mind, because in
the next heartbeat his lips are on mine and my beer tips on its
side.

"Get a room!"

I'd love to.

Wait, that wasn't Haley. I turn around in
time to see Amelia a split second before she tackles me. She lands
between me and Cameron, spilling whatever was left of my beer all
over my jeans.

I wipe my hands down my legs and laugh.
Can't do anything about it now. I look around and don't see her
car. "How did you—oh." Trace is standing off to the side, shifting
from one foot to the other.

Amelia scrambles to her feet and grabs
Trace's elbow. "Everyone, you know Trace." Few people at school
don't know who he is. The guys all grunt at him. "Trace, this is
everyone. And this," she points at me, "is Biz."

We nod at each other and I give her my best
what-the-fuck look.

Two beer cans fly through the darkness and
land at Amelia's feet. "Thanks, assholes." She picks one up and
taps the top. "Trace and I ran into each other shopping for running
shoes."

I hold in a smirk. Amelia doesn't run.

She lifts an eyebrow at me. "Anyway, I told
him about how you want to interview him for your photo project
thing—" Cameron raises an eyebrow at me, "—and we got to talking
and I invited him to come along."

Joey cracks open another beer and throws an
unopened can at me. This time I catch it. "Pull up a chair. We're
just getting started."

I get on my knees and straighten the blanket
so they can sit down. Firm hands wrap around my waist and in one
swift motion I'm nestled between Cameron's legs. That works.

Amelia lands cross-legged next to me and
Trace sits on the edge of the blanket. He's too far away for
Amelia's liking, but after another beer she'll coax him closer.

Jason leans forward, his feet on the bumper.
"So Trace, you captain this year?"

He takes a long drink and nods.
"Co-captain."

"Can they kick you off the team for
drinking?" Joey asks.

Trace holds up his beer and studies the can.
"Probably."

Travis raises his can. "Welcome to the
club."

Their conversation shifts to sports so I
nudge Amelia and eyeball Trace. "Well?" I mouth.

She shrugs and mouths back, "Later."

Cameron's fingers trail down my back and he
whispers in my ear. "So what's this about an interview?"

Is he jealous?
A flutter kicks in my stomach. I know I'm not supposed to
like that in a guy, but coming from Cameron it's really hot. "I was
trying to help Amelia. She couldn't get him to notice her so I said
I'd offer to take pictures of him and do an interview for our
sports page."