Temptation (13 page)

“Gabri is a vampire,” he muttered. He didn't even realize he was talking, didn't hear the words as they came out, didn't mean for April to hear.

Wiping away the teardrops that stained her pale cheeks, she glared at him furiously. “Are you totally losing it, Matt?” she screamed. “Go away! Just go away from me!” She spun angrily and moved toward the house.

He started to follow, but she pushed him back, pressing her fists against his broad shoulders.

“I mean it. Go away. I don't want to see you again! Don't call me—and don't come over!”

“What's going on out there?” one of the twins called, poking her golden head out the door.

“Are they fighting?” the other one asked from inside. “Let me see!”

They both clamored noisily out the door as April pushed past them into the house, sobbing loudly.

Matt sighed miserably and, without looking back, stepped off the deck and headed back to the road. Two rabbits hopped excitedly across his path, but Matt didn't notice.

It started to rain, a few large drops, a sprinkle at first, and then after a few seconds a hard, steady downpour.

Trudging slowly, his head down, Matt didn't react to the rain. His thoughts weighed heavier on him than any downpour.

Of course April is right, he told himself, kicking up clumps of mud with his sneakers. His hair fell down over his forehead. His wet, fragrant T-shirt clung to his back.

Of course she's right. How could I run over there talking about vampires? I really must have been totally off my nut.

Vampires!

Of
course
she thought I was a jerk. And she's right.

Gabri isn't a vampire.

I'm just jealous. And upset.

And feeling sorry for myself.

Vampires . . .

I'd laugh myself—if I didn't feel so much like crying.

How did I ever get such a dumb thing in my head? And how could I be so crazed that I took it seriously?

He sighed loudly, shaking his fists at the trees as they bent under the weight of the falling rain. He wished he could sink into the mud, sink down over his head, and never return.

I've made a total fool of myself, he thought, shaking his head miserably, shivering as a hard gust of wind swept cold rain down the back of his shirt.

I've made a total fool of myself. And I've lost April for good.

•   •   •   •   •

“So what did you do in the rain all day?” Ben asked, leading the way through the high grass, over the dune.

The grass, still wet from the day's rain, tickled Matt's ankles as he walked, and he wished he'd worn jeans instead of shorts. “Not much,” he muttered to his friend.

Actually, he had spent most of the day staring out of the living-room window at the rain, pacing back and forth, rolling Todd's plastic butane lighter around in his hand, and thinking about his dream, and how stupid he'd been to run right over to April's without stopping to think.

He fingered the lighter now as he made his way over the dunes with Ben. The lighter was somehow comforting, his only memento of Todd.

“The sand is dry already,” Ben said, kicking at it with the toe
of a sandal. “Isn't that amazing? It rained all day, and the sand completely soaked up the water.”

Matt looked toward the ocean. The clouds had finally parted as evening arrived. The night sky was nearly clear, the moon a pale circle over the ocean horizon.

“I did a really stupid thing this morning,” he blurted out.

“So what else is new?” Ben joked, bending to pull a long piece of dune grass up and stick it in his mouth.

“No. This was really stupid,” Matt insisted. In a few sentences, keeping his eyes on the sand, he told Ben about his dream and his conversation with April. “It was a dumb move,” he concluded sadly.

Ben chewed thoughtfully on the long piece of grass. “
Dumb
is a good word for it,” he agreed, shaking his head. “
Stupid
is even better. I might even be tempted to use
idiotic.
”

“You know, I didn't tell you about it so you could make jokes!” Matt snapped angrily.

Why
did
I tell Ben? he wondered.

Did I expect him to jump up, slap me on the back, and say, “You're right, Matt! Those bats
are
vampires!”

I guess I just needed to confide in someone.

“Sorry,” Ben said quickly. “Really. You must feel like a jerk already, right?”

“Some apology,” Matt muttered.

A bat swooped down low just ahead of them, a dark, fleeting shadow across the beach. Matt looked up again and saw two bats hovering over the next dune.

“In science class last year we learned that bats are good,”
Ben said, slurring his words because of the long stem of grass he was chewing. “They're really needed for ecological balance, you know. They eat insects. And bat guano is a really important fertilizer.”

“Bat guano to you too,” Matt muttered bitterly. “Thanks for the science lesson.”

“I don't blame you for being in a bad mood,” Ben said sympathetically. “I still feel creeped out about Todd too. And then having that guy move in on your girl—”

“I don't want to talk about it anymore,” Matt snapped, surprising himself with his own vehemence. “Really.”

“Hey—I'm heading to Swanny's,” Ben said, obviously eager to end the conversation. “You coming?”

Matt shook his head. “Think I'll keep walking,” he replied glumly. “Maybe I'll catch you later.”

Ben gave him a little wave as he headed off. “Cheer up,” he called back. “It'll only get worse.” He didn't even bother to laugh at his own dumb joke, just hurried toward town.

What a goof, Matt thought. With his science facts and ancient, dumb jokes, Ben usually cheered Matt up—but not tonight.

He made his way over the dune. Then seeing a group of kids he knew on the beach, he turned, eager not to be seen, and began to walk quickly in the opposite direction, his eyes on the stone cliff, a black silhouette against the clear night sky.

He found himself thinking of ways to apologize to April. But none of them seemed right. He couldn't imagine himself saying them.

As he walked over the sand, he tried to think of how he could ask her to go out with him again, how he could ask her to stop seeing Gabri. But that seemed impossible too.

Shaking his head, he tried to push all of those thoughts from his mind, tried to let the steady rush of the waves drown out all of his thinking.

He stopped short as something caught his eye up ahead.

Something huddled low and dark on a high dune.

Low and dark and still.

“Oh, no,” he uttered aloud, staring hard at it.

What is that? Another body?

Frozen in horror, Matt stared across the low, dark dune. His breath burst out in loud gasps. He had the urge to turn and run, but knew he had to see what was huddled there on the sand.

Walking unsteadily, trying to focus his eyes in the darkness, he made his way to the dune. When he saw her there, sitting in black tights and a long-sleeved black top, her legs pulled up, her arms encircling her knees, her head bowed, he stopped in surprise.

“Jessica?”

She didn't respond.

“Jessica?” he repeated more loudly, taking a hesitant step toward her. He stood over her now, staring down at her mane of red hair.

“Hey—Jessica?”

He saw for the first time that her shoulders were trembling.

And when she finally lifted her face up to him, he saw the tear-soaked cheeks, the wet eyes, her quivering chin, and realized that she'd been crying.

“Sorry,” Matt said, and took a step back. He felt awkward, overcome by embarrassment. “Sorry,” he repeated. He didn't know what to say.

She blinked several times. It seemed to take her a while to recognize him. She seemed confused, as if she were so deep in her thoughts, so deep in her sadness, that there was no room in her memory for someone from the outside world.

Then she forced a wet smile, closing her eyes and raising both hands to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks.

“I—I didn't know it was you,” Matt stammered, trying to decide what to do with his hands. Finally, he just lowered them to his sides. “Are you okay?”

“I guess,” she replied, her voice muffled in her throat. She sighed, and added, “I don't know. I can't seem to stop crying.”

“About Todd?” Matt asked, and then felt like a fool. Of
course
she was crying about Todd. “I mean—”

“I just keep thinking I'm going to run into him on the beach or in town,” Jessica said, the words pouring out. “I can't believe it. I can't believe I was the last person to see him. I can't believe any of it, you know? I mean, I've never known anyone who died. Never.”

“Yeah,” Matt said quietly, turning his eyes to the water. “It
is
unbelievable. He was my best friend, you know.”

She didn't reply. Shaking her head sadly, she pulled herself to her feet and brushed away the sand that clung to her black tights. Then she stepped closer to Matt, close enough that he could smell her perfume, tangy and pungent even in the heavy sea air.

“I knew him for such a short time,” Jessica said, allowing
a single tear to descend down her cheek. “But I felt so close to Todd.”

“He was a good guy,” Matt said, staring into her hypnotic eyes, feeling guilty for thinking about how good-looking Jessica was while talking about his dead buddy.

The ocean wind seemed to circle them, to draw them together.

Matt felt strangely dizzy. Was it her perfume? Was it the swirling wind? His sadness?

“I don't understand why Todd tried to swim so late at night,” Matt said, unable to release his eyes from her stare.

“I don't either,” she said softly. “He teased me about going for a swim. You know, taking off our clothes and jumping in. I knew he was just joking. At least, I thought he was joking.”

“Weird,” Matt replied, shaking his head, trying to shake away the dizziness. “Todd wasn't much of a daredevil. He was pretty timid, you know?”

“I know,” she said, turning her gaze beyond Matt, her eyes surveying the nearly deserted beach. “That's why I thought he was joking about skinny-dipping so late at night. When he dropped me off at my cottage, I was sure he was going to go straight home.”

“Weird,” Matt repeated, his head spinning.

“The next morning, when I heard—” Jessica started. But her voice caught, and instead of words, she uttered a pained cry.

Without thinking about it, Matt put an arm around her trembling shoulders to comfort her. She sobbed silently for a moment, then smiled up at him.

Her perfume was so strong, so sweet, so intoxicating, it seemed to penetrate to his brain.

“Did you cry too?” she asked as they started to walk together across the sand, his arm still around her shoulders. She felt so warm and . . . fragile, he thought.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I went a little berserk, I think, when I found him. I mean, I sort of lost track of what happened. Some fishermen found me with him. I guess I was a little out of my head.”

“I haven't stopped crying,” she said softly, closing her eyes and leaning against him. “You're the first person I've been able to talk to.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, for the briefest moment. He felt her soft hair brush his cheek and felt a shiver of excitement run down his body.

I wonder what she'd do if I kissed her, Matt thought.

A wave of guilt swept over him. Here we are talking about Todd. Here she is sharing her sadness with me, confiding in me, trusting me—and all I can think about is kissing her.

She smiled at him, the sadness fading from her pale face.

To Matt's surprise, her smile was a knowing smile, as if she knew what he was thinking, as if she shared his thoughts.

“Should I . . . uh . . . walk you home?” he asked, his arm sliding down around her slender waist.

Again, her hair brushed his face as she turned to gaze into his eyes. “No. Let's keep going,” she suggested in a whisper, so quietly he had to lean closer to hear. She pointed toward the rocks that led up to the steep, black cliff. “Let's just keep going and
going and going, Matt,” she whispered. “You're making me feel better. You really are.”

“I'm glad,” he replied.

Suddenly she pulled away from him and started jogging toward the cliff, taking long, steady strides.

Startled, he immediately missed her touch, missed her warmth, missed the feel of her under his arm. “Hey—wait up!” he called.

Without slowing, she turned back to him, a mysterious smile on her face.

“Jessica—wait up!” he repeated, and began running over the beach, following her as the sand gave way to smooth rock, following her up, up toward the cliff ledge, the water crashing noisily below, crashing like his heartbeat, louder, faster, harder.

“Come on—stop!” he called, running at full speed now, staring at her hair that flew behind her like a proud pennant.

Her laughter floated back to him on the swirling wind.

They were both high above the beach now, running across the smooth, flat cliff ledge.

“Hey—slow down!” he warned, breathing hard.

He saw her expression change as she neared the cliff edge, saw her mouth open wide with fear and surprise.

She tried to stop.

But her sneakers slid on the slippery slick stone surface.

She raised her hands as if to grab on to something. But there was nothing to grab on to.

“Jessica—no!” Matt cried.

But his words couldn't stop her, either.

She slid right off the edge of the cliff.

He heard her terrified scream as she went over the side.