Tighter (20 page)

“Why is it that I always have to deal with you, Milo, right before I see Sebastian?”

“Maybe because you and I both know you haven’t learned anything from your crushed little schoolgirl heart. And Bass is bored, like I keep telling you. He’s using you till something better happens. Same as the other guy.”

“When and what have I ever told you about another guy?”

At that, he winked. “Maybe you don’t need to. Let me phrase it real simple. Do you always put out on the third date, Jersey Girl?”

“Shut
up
! I never—” And I sprang forward and cracked a slap across his face. Its bullwhip sound jarred me as much as it did Milo. Who jumped up, holding his cheek.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” More like horrified. Where was my sense? I was too jumpy, had been since Pendleton, and I needed to relax. I could almost feel the blaze of the slap across my own cheek. “I don’t—I shouldn’t have done that.”

He’d backed off me. I knew he found me ridiculous, maybe even pitiful. “Try to hurt me all you want. My point stays the same—you don’t want to make Sebastian think you’re ready for easy action.” And with that, Milo had done it again. He was the maestro of cutting me down to my tiniest, most insecure self. How could I enjoy the night if I thought Sebastian was working an advantage over me?

“Fine,” I told him. “You win, Milo. Then again, you always win. I’ll drive myself, and give you a ride into Finley, too, okay? I’ll send Sebastian a message that I’ll meet up with him later. Does that work?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, vaguely relieved. “Yeah, that works. Thanks.”

I texted Sebastian the change in plans, but of course Milo’s comment was now stuck like gum to the back of my brain. Did Sebastian see me as some party girl? Not from a privileged Bly background, and therefore less high-maintenance, more “fun”?

If there was a sliver of chance that Milo was right—that Sebastian thought I was looking for some no-strings summer hookup—it would definitely be better to have my own car. But I really hoped it wasn’t true. I needed a friend tonight, and I was extremely hopeful that I had one in Sebastian.

And on my way out, a new obstacle. Connie was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. She looked even more sourpuss than usual.

“Thanks again for watching Isa tonight,” I said, by way of truce, though I hadn’t thanked her a first time. “I’ll be home by midnight, if not before.” Her expression bridled me. “What? Is something wrong?”

“You took Itha to Pendleton. One of the doctorth there recognithed her and called Dr. Hugh.”

I reddened. Busted. “It was such a beautiful day,” I said. “Isa needed the change. She told me she wanted to go.”

“Itha
wanted
to go? No, I don’t think that’th the truth. In fact, I know very different. And another thing I know ith that, for whatever ungodly reathon, you”—and now Connie’s finger crooked on me like a mini meat hook—“
you
, Jamie Atkinthon, are
obthethed
with Peter Quint, and you’re dragging everyone down into thith thinkhole with you. You had no right to lie. You had no right to take Itha to Pendleton.”

“I said I was sorry. And she was never, ever in danger.”

“That’th not the point.” Connie stepped nearer. Her face was so close that I could see liver spots like fungus on her flesh, and the one rogue nose hair that I wanted to reach out and tweeze. “I’d have never, ever taken that child off Bly without her father’th permithion.” A tiny dot of her saliva landed on my cheek.

“Well, I’m not you, Connie.”

“You think I’m blind. But I watch. And I will thay it now—there might very well be thomething wrong with you, Jamie. Deeply wrong. Becauth dethpite your attention to Itha, and your kindneth to her—I’ll give you that—it’th clear beyond doubt that you are unfit to care properly for that child.”

I grimaced as I stepped away. The accusation was low and unfair. So maybe Pendleton hadn’t been my best judgment call, but my care for Isa was almost always impeccable.

Connie was jealous that Isa liked me so much better.

“Let’s talk about this when I get back,” I said. “I’m sorry you’re upset that I drove Isa off the island. I don’t think it’s done her any permanent damage. It was a pretty day, we had a nice lunch, and—”

“Enough!” Connie put her hands over her ears and actually stamped her foot. “You quit that talk! I’ve got a call out to the Mithter! I’m taking thtepth! You’re not to go anywhere near Itha! Do you underthtand? Do you hear me? Do you?”

“Of course I hear—I’m not deaf!” But her sudden temper had thrown me, and I would have bet anything that Isa was listening from upstairs in her room. My body was shaking as I brushed past Connie to the kitchen and swiped the car keys off the hook.

“Frankly, I’m glad to be getting a break from you,” I called out. “And I’ll be notifying Miles McRae myself about this conversation. You think there
might
be something wrong with me, but I
know
there’s something wrong with you.”

It undercut my bold words that I was speaking to the closed door between the pantry and foyer, but I was glad not to have to look at Connie. Was she serious, demanding that I not go near Isa? As in, a restraining order? Because of one stupid trip? What a wildly inappropriate overreaction. And she had the nerve to say I’d lost my sense of judgment? What a joke.

She might be only bluffing about getting in touch with McRae. But I wasn’t. It was still too early to phone Hong Kong, but he’d be hearing from me later tonight. I’d be crystal clear, and I wouldn’t mince words. Isa’s dad needed to know about the real monsters in this house.

My entire body was buzzing from the confrontation. I left through the kitchen, backed the car out of the garage and blasted the sound system as I waited for Milo out front.

Take that, Funsicle.

TWENTY-FIVE

Twilight was precarious. Nothing but blind spots. I squinted. The road seemed extra twisty tonight.

“Watch it!” Milo shouted, covering my hand with his and swerving the steering wheel so that we nearly gutter-bumped. “You’re all over the place.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “But it was your idea to put me behind the wheel, remember?”

He didn’t answer, but he bolted from the car the minute I’d nosed it and then parked it cautiously among the caravan of vehicles lined up along the turnoff to the beach. I watched as he strode far ahead, ignoring my calls, and before long I’d lost complete sight of him in the thick of strolling families.

Humidity was curling up my hair and turning my skin clammy beneath my striped hoodie dress. Bad outfit choice. Heavy where it lay against my arms and back, but so short that too much of my legs were left exposed and defenseless against the cold ocean breeze.

My eyes hunted Sebastian. I was frantic to see him. Also, he hadn’t answered my text. Probably meant nothing. Still. I walked to the boardwalk and bought a funnel cake. Then I took a seat at a beachside table, where I had a good view for watching the band set up their equipment and speakers as the sun went down.

I checked my voice mail, rechecked texts, and then my voice mail again. Nope.

Aidan and Lizbeth were standing out in the surf, talking with some kids I didn’t know. Lizbeth’s hair was coppery in the reflected tiki torches that spiked the dunes. A ways apart, Emory and Noogie had snapped out a quilt. Staking a four-cornered claim that was equidistant from boardwalk, ocean and stage.

I signaled and shouted to the girls, then plunged like a kite through the crowd. On sight of me, a look passed between them. A not-entirely-positive look. Beyond that, it was hard to interpret it.

But I slowed my steps anyway.

“Jamie, what’s that mark on your cheek?” Emory touched her own. “Your blusher is totally uneven.”

I pressed my hand to my face. “I’m not wearing any makeup,” I said, though I was—but just a little. Not a Jersey Girl amount, not to draw attention.

“So where’s, um,
Milo McRae
?” asked Noogie. Taffy-pulling his name. By now, she and Emory had sprawled out on the quilt. Hands propped, legs stretched, toes ballerina-pointed. I decided not to take a space next to them. I wasn’t feeling nearly welcome enough.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

“Sebastian told me you and Milo came together.” Emory arched her eyebrow.

“Oh, I …” I was confused. Why did she sound sarcastic? And why did they care where Milo was? I couldn’t take it personally. I hardly knew her, after all. But I’d thought we’d had a little bit of an alliance.

And now Aidan and Lizbeth had joined up with them. I fully expected the Aidan factor to be awkward, but it was more civilized, with Lizbeth kicking off her flops and dropping to sit cross-legged on the quilt. Emory didn’t seem perturbed. The bond between lifers certainly didn’t extend to me. In fact, I was the odd one out. I felt self-conscious and embarrassed without knowing exactly why. My eyes scanned for Sebastian—where
was
he?

“I’ll just go for those drinks,” said Aidan. “Jamie, you want anything?” Though he hardly seemed to be listening as I told him no thanks, and he took off.

“So, I am super curious, Jamie,” said Lizbeth, with a little condescending giggle. “We all are. Where in the world did Milo go?”

“He went to see his friends,” I answered. “I mean, he’s definitely
not
hanging around me tonight, if you’re looking for him.”

“Oh yes. He is very, very hard to find,” said Lizbeth, nodding. “Didja hear that, Noogs?” She tapped her toe against Noogie’s ankle. “Milo’s with his friends. So now Jamie can relax. Unless she’s the designated driver?” There it was again, that smirking condescension. “Or is
Milo
driving?”

“Milo’s only fourteen,” I said. “He’s a kid. He can’t drive. Not on my watch, anyhow.”

“Oh, right. Milo’s
fourteen.
I think Isa told me that once.” Noogie barked a laugh and clapped her hands together. Her attitude toward me was an improvement over Lizbeth’s, but I wouldn’t have called it nice. “You’re sure a stickler for the facts, Jamers.”

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t like how this was going at all. The static had begun again in my ears, worse than ever. I pushed my fingers against them
little girl blue come blow your horn
as I stared at Noogie, uncomprehending. Had I pegged her wrong? Was she a complete fake, the kind of girl who took on whatever personality was most convenient for the moment she was in? I knew girls at school like that.

Or—worse thought—Noogie and Lizbeth believed that I was some stealthy cougar girl all hot for Milo? “Hey, look, there’s nothing between Milo and me. If that’s what you’re insinuating,” I blurted. “I mean, please. I’d never hook up with a fourteen-year-old.” Did I sound like a liar? Did they know about Sean Ryan?

What
did
they know?

They were laughing now. Really laughing at me. What was all this attitude about? It was as if they’d all gotten together and decided I was

“Let it go, Jamers,” said Noogie. She was using her lifeguard voice, the one that usually came with a shrill, reprimanding whistle.

“Let what go?” Decided I was some kind of joke, some kind of Jersey Girl who

“You know what. You’ve got poor Connie Hubbard half out of her mind, wondering what wackadoodle thing you’ll think up next.”

Connie, of course. I was so naïve—of course Connie was the one spreading the stories. She’d already told everyone about my kidnapping Isa off to Pendleton. Now they’d rallied against me. Everyone on the island thought I was careless and irresponsible. Maybe they even knew about the pills; maybe they knew about Sean Ryan. Connie could have read my journal—come to think of it, I hadn’t seen it around in a while.

Or … or maybe Sean Ryan somehow had found out about my job here, and had contacted Miles McRae in Hong Kong, and told him that I wasn’t competent to take care of his daughter.

My thoughts weren’t lining up logically
the sheep’s in the meadow the cow’s in the corn where is the girl
and part of me knew that, but the ideas were shooting too fast through my head and unstoppable now,
round and round the cobbler’s bench
and my ears were ringing and my body felt unable to support the pressure
she’s under the haystack
of all the accusations.

Hold on to yourself she’s under the haystack.
I stared from Noogie to Lizbeth. “Stop laughing,” I commanded them. I began to back away.
I’m under the haystack fast asleep.
“I mean it. Stop laughing at me.”

Noogie stopped. “Jamie,” she said. “It’s only because we’re … we can’t help …” She reached out a hand as if I were standing on a ledge.

“Help what?” I demanded. “Help how?” In answer, they gaped; nobody was going to step forward, nobody wanted to tell me the big secret when they could all stand around laughing at me. I couldn’t bear it and without another word, I turned away. Running for the sea
the haystack the haystack
, which suddenly looked so inviting, the rolling waves were beckoning me.

I waded out into the darkness. My ankles were sucked up in wet sand as the salt water lapped cold around my knees. I filled my lungs with deep breaths of salty air. My skin and hair turned sticky, my ears were corrosive with sound, but the promise of a calm on the horizon was so seductive
fast asleep I’m fast asleep
I’d just keep walking, yes, that’s what I’d do, farther and farther until I couldn’t

“Jamie?”

I whipped around. The klieg lights from the stage were lit up behind him, so Sebastian was all outline, like a paper cutout. I could have hugged him, but there was a formality in the way he held himself that stopped me. Oh no. Not Sebastian, too. Whatever they’d thought I’d done, I couldn’t begin to deal with the idea that he’d joined them, and that everyone was against me tonight.

“Oh, hi! I’m so glad you’re here,” I said anyway, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “When you didn’t text me back, I thought you were upset about Milo.”

“Confused,” he said after a pause. “I was more like confused.”