Tethered 01 - Catalyst (14 page)

I started toward the kitchen, desperately needing my morning cup of wild berry green tea with just a dash of honey. Had we had a good time last night? I smiled at the thought. Of course we had. We’d talked for nearly two hours at Paisley’s before taking a long walk through downtown and continuing our makeshift date.

“Last night was…interesting to say the least,” I said.

I grabbed a cup from the cabinet by the sink and filled it with water from the tap. Vera walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter beside me.

“What did you guys do? Go tromping through some woods or something someplace?” she asked with a slight amount of snip to her words.

I glanced at her as I unwrapped my little baggie of tea. “What are you talking about? We went for coffee like I said we were and then we just walked around Main Street.”

“How did you manage to track in so much dirt last night, then?” she asked and then took a long sip of what was probably her fourth cup of coffee today. “There was dirt all over in the foyer this morning when I woke up, like you’d gone for a walk in the mud and then stomped your shoes off as soon as you walked in the door instead of outside. Let me tell you, it was not a fun thing to clean up first thing in the morning, but I didn’t want it tracked all through the house.”

“I didn’t track mud in. I don’t know how that got there,” I said with a frown. “Are you sure it wasn’t sand or something?”

Vera scoffed like she couldn’t believe I was questioning her and walked over to where the trash can stood. She dragged it over to me and lifted the lid. “See, dirt. If there’d been a plant beside the door or something I would have thought your creepy cat had knocked it over, but there isn’t, and I know it wasn’t me, so that only leaves you.”

I glanced in the trash can at the deeply rich-looking soil that was tossed on top of our garbage. It definitely wasn’t sand. It looked like soil from a garden, and there was something red mixed in with it…a reddish powder.

“Huh, well I don’t know. Sorry you had to clean it up, though,” I said with a shrug of my shoulder.

There was no sense in arguing with her. Vera was not one to lose a fight, even if she was wrong. I wasn’t sure how the dirt mixture had gotten in the house, but I knew one thing—that it hadn’t been brought in by me. And considering the amount, I was sure it wasn’t something Binks had done.

“I’m sorry I’m so snippy. Ugh, I feel like I have to get out of this house! My hangover lasted for like a year. Please tell me you don’t have to work today at that incredibly boring job you applied for?” Vera asked as she rinsed out her mug and sat it in the sink.

I chuckled at her as I pulled my tea out from the microwave. “Not today. I start tomorrow.”

“Awesome,” she said, hoisting herself up onto the counter. “Let’s go hang out at the beach all day. I could use some vitamin D and some eye candy.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Yes! I still haven’t gotten to use my new bikini I bought for this trip yet,” Vera said as she hopped off the counter and bounded toward the stairs.

Binks trotted into the kitchen lazily as soon as she exited. He walked straight to me and began winding though my legs and brushing up against me, meowing.

“Are you ready for some food?” I asked as I bent down and scratched behind his ears. I was answered with a long meow. “All right then, I’ll take that as a yes.” I smiled.

I stood and attempted to walk toward the pantry where I kept his food, but Binks darted in front of me, nearly tripping me. I caught myself, but knocked over the trash can in the process. Everything came tumbling out and scattered across the kitchen floor.

“Aw crap,” I said, staring at the mess with my hands on my hips. “Look what you made me do, you crazy cat,” I said to Binks.

He was huddled in the corner of the kitchen, staring at the trash pile with the hair along his spine raised.

“Guess it scared you more than me.” I grinned at him.

I bent down to pick up the larger pieces of trash, but Binks began hissing and I paused, hand still extended toward the mess.

My eyebrows drew together as I glanced at him. “What’s the matter, Buddy? It’s just trash.”

Pulling the trash can back up into a standing position, I reached for the larger pieces of trash again. This time Binks didn’t just hiss at me, he lunged at me and swiped at my hand with his paw.

I jumped back. “Geez, what the hell is your problem?”

I was answered with another vicious meow. Binks darted toward the broom that leaned against the wall. Vera must have forgotten to take care of it after she’d cleaned up the mess she’d blamed on me. He began brushing against it lovingly, and I got the distinct impression that he wanted me to use the broom to clean up everything and not my hands. I glanced back at the mess in front of me and decided it wasn’t a bad idea.

“Okay, guess I’ll use the broom then,” I said.

After cleaning up the mess in the kitchen the way Binks seemed to want me to, I got changed into my newest lavender bikini and met Vera at the bottom of the stairs. We spent the day at the beach, soaking up the sun and coating our skin in thick layers of sunblock. The day was gorgeous and exactly what I’d needed after all the craziness that had been introduced into my life lately.

As nice as it was to hang out with Vera like I’d intended to during this break, I had to admit there was something off about her. She seemed incredibly antsy and unable to sit still. We’d walked up and down the beach a dozen times in just a few hours. Something was bothering her and I wished she’d just tell me already.

“What is going on with you?” I asked finally, after we started back toward our little adopted piece of sand from another one of her walks she insisted that we go on.

Vera sighed and tugged her long hair free from her hair tie. Combing it with her fingers, she twisted it up into a higher bun on top of her head. “I don’t know. I just have this feeling I can’t shake.”

“What kind of feeling?”

She sighed. “I don’t really know how to explain it… It’s almost like I need to leave here, like if I stay in this town any longer I’m going to burst into flames.”

I laughed at her. “What? That’s crazy.”

“You asked, so I told you. I don’t understand it myself, but I can’t help how I feel.” She frowned. We’d finally reached our beach towels, and Vera bent to scoop up hers. She shook out the sand and wadded it up to tuck beneath her arm. “I’m sorry, Add, but I really think I’m gonna call my mom and see if she’ll meet us halfway. I wanna go home.”

My mouth fell open at her random confession. She wanted to go home? “You’re not serious, are you? What happened to the Vera who wanted to find a hot fisherman fling and have fun before she went off to college?”

She picked up her bottle of sunblock and tossed it into the hot pink polka dot beach bag she’d bought especially for this trip. “I know, I know. I just—can’t explain it.” She shrugged a shoulder and started toward my house without another word.

What the hell? Had I done something, said something maybe, that would have ticked her off? I couldn’t think of anything. Surely cleaning up one small mess of whatever the heck that stuff was wasn’t enough to make her want to leave so soon. I shook out my beach towel and crammed it into my bag, tossing my sunblock on top. I scooped up my bottle of water and started after her.

Vera called her mom shortly after we got back from the beach. Two and a half hours later, we sat at the diner we’d found that was halfway for both of us, waiting on her mom to show up.

The car ride had been awkward to say the least. I didn’t get what had her acting this way, but I wasn’t going to fight her on it. If she wanted to go home, then she could go home.

“I’m so sorry I’m bailing on you after only a few days. I don’t know why I felt like I had to get out of there so soon. I just did.” She fumbled with a stray fringe of her jean skirt as she spoke. “I’m not even kidding you when I say that I felt like bugs were crawling under my skin and the only way to get them off was to go home. It was weird.”

“Promise it wasn’t something I did?” I asked.

“Psh, it wasn’t anything you did. I just felt like I couldn’t spend another second in that house or that town. I don’t know where the feeling came from or why… All I know is I had to get out of there.” She leaned her head back against the headrest and rubbed her forehead with her hand. “God, I sound crazy. I’m sorry. Worst case of homesickness ever.” She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, I was sure. It didn’t help much.

“No, it’s all right. As long as you’re not mad at me for something, then I don’t mind. I mean, I’m sad you’re not staying—we haven’t even gotten to have that much fun yet—but I get it. I think.” I didn’t really, but she seemed to be feeling bad enough about her decision to leave and I didn’t need to make it any worse.

Her mom’s silver minivan pulled into the diner, and Vera perked up some. “There she is, guess I’d better go.”

I got out and helped her gather her things from in the back. An ache began in my chest and made its way up my throat.

“Well, this sucks. I wish you’d stay,” I said.

Vera nodded. “I know, I can’t explain it, Add… I just wanna go home.” Her blue eyes glimmered with tears.

After a tear-filled goodbye, I drove the two and a half hours back to my house in silence with my mind going in circles as I tried to figure out what had happened, what had made my best friend leave so soon. I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. Glancing up at the darkened house, all I could think of was how ominous it appeared without any lights on.

I headed inside and up the stairs, anxious to change into some PJs and veg out on the sofa with whatever I could find in the fridge and Binks. I’d made it to my bedroom door when a creaking noise at the end of the hall startled me—the door to the stairs that led to the attic had opened all on its own.

My heart pounded in my throat as I slowly crept to the opened door. I slid my hand against the smooth wood and pulled it open farther. Glancing inside, I noticed the red door at the top of the stairs—the one that had been jammed before—was now opened.