“Oh.”
“Not that small.” He waved at the security guard as we left the club.
“Make medium talk.”
I looked down the steep hill at the street lights in town far below. “I didn’t
know you were adopted.”
“It’s not a big secret, but it’s not the first thing I tell people. Most people
take one look at my family and say, who’s the Jewish kid?”
“What happened to your parents?”
“They divorced right after I was born. My father got custody and then he
died in a helicopter accident a few months later. He was an old friend of the
Monroe family and they adopted me. They’re the only family I’ve ever known.”
“That’s why you asked me about my family and my father.”
“I was wondering if you’d ever met him. I got in touch with my birth
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mother when I was fifteen. She’s married, no kids, and seriously not interested in
a grown one. She doesn’t compare to my
real
mom.”
“I like your mother.”
“She likes you, too.” He drove along the winding road with an occasional
grinding of gears as he shifted. “You may not think I’m a prize, but the Hayers
always act like they’ve won the lottery with me. I couldn’t ask for a better
family.”
“I’m glad for you, Jack.”
“So am I. Every family has problems, though, halfling.” He glanced over
at me and said, “My mother works really hard trying to keep everything in order.
My father gets stressed and down. Lucky has his own issues. He’s not just some
smiling, movie-star looking dude, so don’t expect him to act like a hero.”
“Jack, if there’s something you want to tell me, tell me. Don’t speak in
elliptical terms.”
“Elliptical,” he said with a laugh. “You’re always so direct, nothing to
hide, no unspoken agendas, no manipulation.”
“What stops you from being straight-forward?” I asked. “You and Lucky
are the same that way – your talk always seems coded and as if you’re testing my
reactions. I’m like Charley in
Flowers for Algernon
, struggling to solve the
maze.”
“I don’t see you that way, Jane,” he said. “I wish I could explain, but it’s
too complicated and too…too private.”
He turned into the Birch Grove drive. Only a few lights were on at the
entrance to the school.
“So what’s your role in the family?”
“I’m the one telling them that it’s not all about success and image.”
“In other words, the slacker.”
“Or the king’s fool.”
“What does that mean?”
“Read your Shakespeare,” he said.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
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“No cheating on the test. Eyes on your own paper, Jane Williams.” He
parked on the drive and said, “I’ll walk you the rest of the way.”
He reached across me to open the glove compartment. His arm brushed
mine, sending that reaction through me, so strong that it threw me back into a
cool, shadowy place that I couldn’t remember, no matter how hard I tried, and I
froze.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Being a jackass isn’t contagious.” He took a
flashlight out and we got out of the van.
He angled the beam of the flashlight down on the uneven soil of the path,
and I followed it carefully. The wind tugged at the ends of the cashmere shawl
and the branches of the birches thrashed. Other than the porch light on, the cottage
was dark.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said. I opened the velvet clutch and took out my
keys.
Jack followed me up the porch. “Don’t you ever get scared out here by
yourself?”
“Here, in the trees?” I looked at the dark silhouettes of the graceful trees.
“I love the trees. Other things scare me, though.”
“Would you ask for help if you needed it?”
The wind whipped my hair across my face, and I brushed it away. “I have
to depend on myself, Jack. Even when things scare me.”
“Jane, I know you’ll beat any maze.” His clear, green eyes gazed at me
without the mischief that made them crinkle at the corners.
“Thanks for the ride. Good night, Jacob.”
“Good night, halfling.”
When I opened the front door, I reached quickly for the light switch. I
turned it on and stepped into the living room. Outside I’d felt safe, and this is
what scared me: that someone would trap me inside and hurt me. I looked around
and everything was exactly as I’d left it.
I shut the door and locked it. I checked the bathroom, the bedroom, the
kitchen, the porch and the closets. Nothing was out of place.
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When I peeked out through the front curtains, I saw Jack standing at the
edge of the path, as if he was making sure I was all right. He must have seen me,
too. He gave a wave and turned to walk back toward the drive.
I couldn’t figure him out. He looked at me in such a strange way, as if he
was seeing someone other than the Jane Williams that everyone else saw.
I took off the emerald green dress and hung it in the closet, and then placed
my new heels neatly beside my other shoes. I put on a cotton tank and pajama
pants. As I rinsed my face, I looked in the mirror. My mascara was smeared
under my eyes.
When I went into the medicine cabinet to get the bottle of facial cleanser, I
saw the sunscreen beside the bottle of aspirin. Thinking of Lucky’s pale skin, I
reached for the sunscreen and took off the cap. It smelled like him.
Lucky wanted me to be loyal to him, and then he’d walked away when
Sage insulted me. Or maybe he’d walked away because Sage had inadvertently
insulted Jack.
I curled up on the sofa with a comforter. I felt safer here, where I could
watch the door. My thoughts raced. Most of them began with why. Why, why,
why, why. I must have fallen asleep because the banging on my front door made
me jump up in bewilderment and terror.
My heart thudded. Then I heard, “Jane, let me in! Jane!” It was Lucky.
I ran to the door and opened it. Lucky fell into my arms, drunk and
laughing, “You’re awake!”
“I am now.” I helped him inside and he collapsed onto the sofa.
He smelled of beer and cigarettes. His blue eyes were glassy and he slurred
when he said, “Why’d you leave?”
I sat on the chair facing him and crossed my arms over my breasts. “I was
tired.”
“Was it because of Sage? What a fucking wannabe. Forget her.” He tried
to make a scoffing sound.
I went to the kitchen, filled a glass with tap water and took it to him. He
took a few gulps and said, “Come sit with me.”
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I sat on the far side of the sofa. Even bleary-eyed, Lucky was stunning. I
thought I would never get tired of looking at him.
“Janey, are you mad at me?” He reached for my hand and I snatched it
away.
“Why did you disregard me like that?” The pain caught in my voice,
shifting it higher.
He shrugged. “I told you. Those bitches will get jealous if they know
about us.”
“What is
us
? I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I’ll show you what I want.” He fumbled with his jacket and brought out
something. It was a gold penknife, similar to Hattie’s.
I jumped off the sofa and took two steps back, out of his reach. “What do
you think you’re doing?”
He looked at me with those eyes, the color of the sky. “I want to have a
blood oath with you. It’ll only be a drop or two. Don’t you trust me?”
I wanted to trust somebody. “Why do you want a blood oath?”
“To seal
us
, Lucky and Jane,” he said. “You can even do it yourself, if it
makes you feel safer. Come here, Jane.”
Why did I go to him? Because I wanted something, some
one
so beautiful,
and I wanted to believe that he thought I was special.
I sat beside him and he handed me the knife. I opened it and said, “What
do you want me to do?”
“Prick your finger. That’s all.” He took my hand in his left hand and held
my forefinger.
I hesitated and then counted silently to three and jabbed the point of the
knife into my fingertip.
He took my finger and squeezed the flesh on the tip until a bead of shiny,
crimson blood welled up.
Lucky raised my finger up and deep into his mouth, biting down pressing
his tongue against it. He sucked hard, dropping the knife on the coffee table and
using his free arm to wrap me close to him.
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
My body thrummed with desire, and a moan came from low in Lucky’s
throat.
When he finally let my finger slide of out his hot, slick mouth, he said,
“Jane, you’re delicious.”
He reached for the knife again and then tugged me up. He stumbled back
against the coffee table and I grabbed him to keep him from falling over.
“Lucky, are you all right?”
“Never better.” He led me to the bedroom and turned on the lamp by the
bed. He dropped the knife on the bedside table and then wrested himself out of
his jacket and dropped it on the floor.
He took my hand and fell back on the bed, looking huge in the small room,
and he yanked me down on the mattress. He rolled atop of me heavily. I wanted
to look in his eyes, to see what he was feeling. I didn’t know if he wanted sex,
and I didn’t know if I wanted sex with him this way.
But Lucky focused on my neck. His lips were on my throat and at first
kissing and then he nipped, as he’d done before. Then he bit harder, I shoved his
chest and said, “Stop! You’re hurting.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and placed his
large broad, sweaty hand palm down above my breasts. “You’re as small as a
bird. I can feel your heart pounding.”
I wanted to be touched so much, and I was excited by his beauty and his
need.
He stroked the inside of my arm, making my whole body shiver. “Close
your eyes,” he said in a low voice.
“No.”
“It’ll nick for only a second, a small cut. I
need
you so much. Can’t you
feel how I need you?” He pressed against me and I felt the hardness of his body.
“Won’t you let me have a few drops?”
“Why?” I whispered. “Please tell me why?”
“I like the taste. I
need
the taste. It’s my strangeness and I can’t share with
anyone else.”
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
He seemed so vulnerable then, his blue eyes focused on me, his breath
shallow and rapid. “Please, Jane,
please
.”
No one had ever needed me before and somehow I understood a
strangeness that couldn’t be shared. I said “Yes,” and closed my eyes.
I flinched as the knife pierced the skin on the inside of my elbow. Lucky
clamped his mouth over the cut.
Outside the wind grew loud, whistling through the trees, and their branches
trashed against the cottage, as Lucky nipped and sucked at the wound, opening
the cut.
I clutched his thick golden hair and when he pushed against me, I tried to
ignore the pain in my arm, the howl of the wind. I thought I should want more
from him, but this was enough.
I shifted my legs so that when he ground against me, and pleasure began to
rise in me almost making me forget the sharp pain of his teeth, the trees beating
against the windows until they shook.
Then Lucky groaned and shuddered. When he lifted his head from my arm,
blood was smeared on his lips. He licked at them with his red-streaked pink
tongue. Then he laughed wildly. “That was fucking incredible,” he said, his eyes
half-shut, like a cat dozing off. He rolled onto his back, crowding me against the
edge of the bed, and passed out.
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
“Birch Grove recognizes the complexity of alcohol and drug abuse and
misuse among minors. Evidence of student use of alcohol and/or drugs shall
first be addressed confidentially, so long as the student is willing to work on
this problem.”
Birch Grove Student Handbook
LUCKY
was in a deep, drunken sleep yet I thought I’d never seen anyone so
perfectly beautiful. I took off his shoes and his belt to make him comfortable and
covered him with a blanket. The wind had died down and now the trees made a
sad, low shush-shush-shush.
A cell phone began ringing at about four a.m. I found Lucky’s phone in his
inside jacket pocket. Jack’s name flashed on the screen.
At first, I wasn’t going to answer, but Jack was probably worried about his
brother. “Hi, it’s Jane.”
“Is he there? Let me talk to him.”
“He showed up and passed out.”
“I can’t believe you let him in. I thought you were smarter than that.”
“He’s my friend.”
“What kind of a friend? The kind that ignores you in public and then shows
up for a…whatever. Why are you letting him use you, Jane?”
“It’s none of your damn business, Jack, how I choose my friends and what I
do with them.” I felt myself go hot with anger and something else.