Am venit la mine cu un inceput. M-am gandit de fapt sa neg ca s-a intamplat? Stiam ce vazusem. Nu era imaginatia mea.

„Spectacol sfant”, a spus Vee. „Nu raspunzi. Caprioara este adapostita in farurile mele, nu-i asa?

Vii cu el insotit de el in fata masinii ca o ploaie.

– Pot sa dorm la tine? Am vrut sa cobor pe strazi. Din intuneric. Cu un aport brusc de aer, mi-am dat seama ca ajung la Vee’s, va trebui sa merg inapoi prin intersectia unde l-as fi lovit.

– Sunt in camera mea, a spus Vee. „Lasa-te. Te vedem in cateva”.

Cu mainile stranse pe volan, am impins neonul prin ploaie, rugandu-ma ca lumina de la Hawthorne sa fie verde in favoarea mea. A fost si l-am plutit prin intersectie, tinandu-mi ochii drepti in fata, dar, in acelasi timp, furand priviri in umbrele de pe marginea drumului.

Nu era semnul tipului in masca de schi.

Zece minute mai tarziu, am parcat Neonul in aleea Vee. Daunele aduse usii au fost mari si a trebuit sa-mi pun piciorul la ea si sa ma dau afara. Apoi am facut furori catre usa din fata, m-am incurcat inauntru si m-am grabit sa cobor pe scarile subsolului.

Vee statea cu picioarele incrucisate pe patul ei, cu un caiet inclinat intre genunchi, cu cascale infundate, iPod se ridica pana la capat. „Vreau sa vad pagubele in aceasta seara sau ar trebui sa astept pana cand am avut cel putin sapte ore de somn?” a chemat ea muzica.

– Poate optiunea numarul doi.

Vee inchise caietul si scoase castile. „Hai sa o terminam.”

Cand am iesit afara, m-am uitat lung la neon o clipa lunga. Nu a fost o noapte calda, dar vremea nu a fost cauza cocoselor de gasca care mi se umpleau pe brate. Fara geamul soferului spart. Fara indoire in usa.

– Ceva nu este in regula, am spus. Dar Vee nu asculta. Era ocupata sa inspecteze fiecare centimetru patrat al neonului.

Array

Am pasit inainte si am scos geamul soferului. Sticla solida. Am inchis ochii. Cand le-am redeschis, fereastra era inca intacta.

M-am plimbat prin spatele masinii. Am completat aproape un cerc complet cand am venit scurt.

O crapatura fina a legat parbrizul.

Vee a vazut-o in acelasi timp. – Esti sigur ca nu era o veverita?

Mintea mi-a revenit spre ochii letali din spatele mastii de schi. Erau atat de negri incat nu puteam distinge elevii de irisi. Negru ca … Patch’s.

„Uita-te la mine, plang lacrimi de bucurie”, a spus Vee, intorcandu-se pe capota Neonului intr-o imbratisare. – O fisura teenytiny. Asta e!”

Mi-am fabricat un zambet, dar stomacul mi-a suras. In urma cu cinci minute, geamul a fost spart si usa a fost inclinata. Privind masina acum, parea imposibil. Nu, mi s-a parut o nebunie. Dar i-am vazut pumnul lovind pumnul prin geam si am simtit cum unghiile lui mi-au muscat in umar.

Nu-i asa?

Cu cat am incercat mai greu sa reamintesc accidentul, cu atat nu am mai putut. Micile semne de informatie lipsa mi-au ramas in memorie. Detaliile se decolorau. Era inalt? Mic de statura? Subtire? Voluminos? Oare spusese ceva?

Nu-mi puteam aminti. Aceasta a fost partea cea mai inspaimantatoare.

Vee si cu mine am parasit casa la sapte cincisprezece dimineata urmatoare si ne-am dus la Bistro Enzo pentru a lua un mic dejun cu lapte aburit. Cu mainile infasurate in jurul cupei de china, am incercat sa incalzesc frisoana adanca din mine. M-am dus, m-am dus pe o camisola si un cardigan imprumutat din dulapul lui Vee si m-am maturat de niste machiaj, dar cu greu imi aminteam sa fac asta.

– Nu te uita acum, spuse Vee, dar domnul Green Sweater continua sa priveasca astfel, estimand picioarele lungi prin blugi … Oh! El m-a salutat. Nu glumesc. Un mic salut militar dublu.

Ce adorabil.”

Nu ascultam. Accidentul de aseara mi-a redat in cap toata noaptea, alungand orice sansa de somn. Gandurile mele erau incurcate, ochii erau uscati si grei si nu ma puteam concentra.

„Domnul. Puloverul verde arata normal, dar omul sau de aripi pare baiat rau ”, a spus Vee. „Emite un anumit semnal nonmesswithme. Spune-mi ca nu arata ca nasterea lui Dracula. Spune-mi ca imi imaginez lucruri. ”

Ridicandu-mi ochii suficient de sus pentru a arunca o privire la el, fara sa par ca sunt, am luat-o pe fata lui fina si frumoasa. Parul blond ii atarna la umeri. Ochii au culoarea cromului. Barbos.

Imbracata impecabil intr-un sacou croit peste puloverul sau verde si blugii de designer intunecati. Am spus: „Iti imaginezi lucruri”.

„Ti-a fost dor de ochii adanci? Varful vaduvei? Constructia inalta si lunga? S-ar putea sa fie chiar suficient de inalt pentru mine.

Vee se apropie de 6 metri inaltime, dar are ceva pentru tocuri. Tocuri. De asemenea, are ceva de a nu se intalni cu tipi mai scurti.

„Bine, ce nu e in regula?” Intreba Vee. „Ati plecat cu totul incomunicat. Nu este vorba despre fisura din parbrizul meu, nu? Dar daca lovesti un animal? S-ar putea intampla cu oricine. Acordate, sansele ar fi mult mai slabe daca mama te-ar muta din salbaticie. ”

Aveam sa-i spun lui Vee adevarul despre cele intamplate. Curand. Am avut nevoie doar de putin timp pentru a afla detaliile. Problema a fost ca nu am vazut cum as putea. Singurele detalii ramase au fost in cel mai bun caz. Era ca si cum un radiator mi-ar fi spalat memoria. Ma gandeam inapoi, mi-am amintit de ploaia abundenta care se cadea pe ferestrele Neonului, facand ca totul sa se estompeze. Sa fi lovit de fapt un cerb?

– Mmm, verifica-l, spuse Vee. „Domnul. Puloverul verde iese din scaun. Acum acesta este un corp care loveste in mod regulat sala de sport. Cu siguranta isi face drum spre noi, cu ochii urmarind imobilul, imobilul tau, adica. ”

O jumatate de bataie mai tarziu am fost intampinati cu un „Hello” placut, placut.

Vee si cu mine ne-am uitat in acelasi timp. Domnul Green Sweater statea chiar in spatele mesei noastre, cu degetele agatate in buzunarele blugilor. Era de culoare albastra, cu parul blond elegant, infundat, intins pe frunte.

– Buna ziua, a spus Vee. „Sunt Vee. Aceasta este Nora Gray.

M-am incruntat la Vee. Nu i-am apreciat etichetarea pe numele meu de familie, simtind ca a incalcat un contract nerostit intre fete, si sa nu mai vorbim de cele mai bune prietene, la intalnirea cu baieti necunoscuti. Am dat un val cu jumatate de inima si mi-am adus ceasca pe buze, scaldandu-mi imediat limba.

He dragged a chair over from the next table and sat backward on it, his arms resting where his back should have been. Holding a hand out to me, he said, “I’m Elliot Saunders.” Feeling way too formal, I shook it. “And this is Jules,” he added, jerking his chin toward his friend, whom Vee had grossly underestimated by calling “tall.”

Jules lowered all of himself into a seat beside Vee, dwarfing the chair.

She said to him, “I think you might be the tallest guy I’ve ever seen. Seriously, how tall are you?”

“Six foot ten,” Jules muttered, slumping in his seat and crossing his arms.

Elliot cleared his throat. “Can I get you ladies something to eat?”

“I’m fine,” I said, raising my cup. “I already ordered.”

Vee kicked me under the table. “She’ll have a vanilla­cream­filled doughnut. Make it two.”

“So much for the diet, huh?” I asked Vee.

“Huh yourself. The vanilla bean is a fruit. A brown fruit.”

“It’s a legume.”

“You sure about that?”

I wasn’t.

Jules closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Apparently he was as thrilled to be sitting with us as I was to have them here.

As Elliot walked to the front counter, I let my eyes trail after him. He was definitely in high school, but I hadn’t seen him at CHS before. I would remember. He had a charming, outgoing personality that didn’t fade into the background. If I wasn’t feeling so shaken, I might have actually taken an interest. In friendship, maybe more.

“Do you live around here?” Vee asked Jules.

“Mmm.”

“Go to school?”

“Kinghorn Prep.” There was a tinge of superiority in the way he said it.

“Never heard of it.”

“Private school. Portland. We start at nine.” He lifted his sleeve and glanced at his watch.

Vee dipped a finger in the froth of her milk and licked it off. “Is it expensive?”

Jules looked at her directly for the first time. His eyes stretched, showing a little white around the edges.

“Are you rich? I bet you are,” she said.

Jules eyed Vee like she’d just killed a fly on his forehead. He scraped his chair back several inches, distancing himself from us.

Elliot returned with a box of a half­dozen doughnuts.

“Two vanilla creams for the ladies,” he said, pushing the box toward me, “and four glazed for me. Guess I’d better fill up now, since I don’t know what the cafeteria is like at Coldwater High.”

Vee nearly spewed her milk. “You go to CHS?”

“As of today. I just transferred from Kinghorn Prep.”

“Nora and I go to CHS,” Vee said. “I hope you appreciate your good fortune. Anything you need to know—including who you should invite to Spring Fling—just ask. Nora and I don’t have dates … yet.”

I decided it was time to part ways. Jules was obviously bored and irritated, and being in his company wasn’t helping my already restless mood. I made a big presentation of looking at the clock on my cell phone and said, “We better get to school, Vee. We have a bio test to study for. Elliot and Jules, it was nice meeting you.”

“Our bio test isn’t until Friday,” said Vee.

On the inside, I cringed. On the outside, I smiled through my teeth. “Right. I meant to say I have an English test. The works of … Geoffrey Chaucer.” Everyone knew I was lying.

In a remote way my rudeness bothered me, especially since Elliot hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

But I didn’t want to sit here any longer. I wanted to keep moving forward, distancing myself from last night. Maybe the diminishing memory wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The sooner I forgot the accident, the sooner my life would resume its normal pace.

“I hope you have a really great first day, and maybe we’ll see you at lunch,” I told Elliot. Then I dragged Vee up by her elbow and steered her out the door.

The school day was almost over, only biology left, and after a quick stop by my locker to exchange books, I headed to class. Vee and I arrived before Patch; she slid into his empty seat and dug through her backpack, pulling out a box of Hot Tamales.

“One red fruit coming right up,” she said, offering me the box.

“Let me guess … cinnamon is a fruit?” I pushed the box away.

“You didn’t eat lunch, either,” Vee said, frowning.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Liar. You’re always hungry. Is this about Patch? You’re not worried he’s really stalking you, are you?

Because last night, that whole thing at the library, I was joking.”

I massaged small circles into my temples. The dull ache that had taken up residence behind my eyes flared at the mention of Patch. “Patch is the least of my worries,” I said. It wasn’t exactly true.

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