Betwixt

"Who?"

Adam glances at Dale. "You don't know this story?"

Dale shakes his head.

"Jody was Nicole's little sister. She was this cute little blonde kid with a constant smile. Pure sunshine, you know?"

My heart begins to pound so hard I think it might burst out of my chest. I push my fingers into the middle of my ribcage.

"Nicole adored her. One day she..." Adam clears his throat.

Don't say it. Don't tell him, Adam. I want to scream the words aloud, but I know it won't do any good.

"She fell out of a tree, broke her neck and died."

My ears start ringing as I slump back into my seat.

"She was only nine," Adam ended softly.

"Whoa." Dale's knuckles are white as they grip the wheel. "That explains a lot."

"Nicole was the one who found her."

Dale's head jerks to the side. The surprise on his face is unmissable, swiftly followed by sadness. I turn away from it. There's nothing I can say to stop this.

"She's never been the same since. She went into hiding over the summer and then when she got to high school she started hanging out with..."

"The wrong kinda people?"

"Pretty much." Adam nods.

The car fills with that eerie silence that follows tragic news. I keep my eyes out the window, watching the world slow to a stop as Dale pulls into Adam's driveway. Dale pulls up the parking brake as Adam opens his door.

"Do you think she's run away?"

Adam pauses and scratches the nape of his neck.

"I don't know, man. Maybe." His Adam’s apple shoots down his throat and back up again before he forces a smile and gets out of the car.

Dale waits for the slam of the door before reversing onto the road. I watch Adam walk to his door then turn and watch us leave. I swivel in the seat and look out the back window as he gazes after us.

Part of me wants to hate him. Another part has to admit that it was going to come out eventually.

I glance back at Dale. He keeps looking in the rearview mirror, searching for my response.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I don't say anything. I can't. Adam is soon out of view. I keep looking out the back window, unable to face Dale. He was the one person at school who didn't know.

I hate that the status quo has changed.

Dale clears his throat.

"You want to sit in front with me?"

"No, I'm fine back here," I mumble.

The car eases to a stop. Slowly I turn around to see Dale facing me.

"I'm sorry." His voice is soft.

"For what?" My voice is hard.

His eyes fill with compassion as he whispers, "I'm sorry you had to find your sister like that. I'm sorry you lost her."

"I don't want to talk about it." I clear my throat.

"Nic-"

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!"

Dale jolts back in his seat and accidentally hits the horn. Adjusting his position, he swivels back to face the road and gives a short, "Okay."

Putting the car in gear, we bu

I close my eyes.

Jody.

I squeeze my hand into a tight fist, willing it to hurt. I used to be able to draw blood. I open my hand now and see nothing... of course. You can't cut ghosts' skin... just their hearts.

Silence fills the car until we pass the turn off to Matt's house and start heading further into the forest.

"Anything look familiar?"

I lean towards the glass and shake my head.

"Nicole?"

"It all looks the same." I sigh. "I could have been anywhere around here."

"Just keep looking, see if something sparks a memory."

I do what I'm told and ask Dale to slow down about five minutes later.

"This could be it. I mean there's a steep bank all along this road."

"Well, let's get out and take a look."

Dale looks hopeful as he jumps out the door and starts walking along the road.

"If you were hit, there will probably be markings or damage to the guardrail," he calls over his shoulder. "You head up that way and I'll try down here, see if we spot anything."

I grab the dog tags around my neck as I march up the road, looking at the guardrail. I've walked at least a 100 yards when I turn around and shout, "I don't see anything. The railing looks fine."

"Same down here." Dale's voice wafts back to me. "Come on, let's drive a little further."

We spend the next hour jumping in and out of the car. The guardrail is fine along the entire road and by mile fifteen, I'm totally over it.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

Dale glances at his watch.

"I should probably get home anyway." He puts his foot on the gas and we head back towards Big Bear Village.

"What a waste of time." I sigh.

"I don't think so."

I look over at him from the front passenger's seat.

"I always knew you were an idiot."

His snicker is followed by a quick smirk.

"We can cross that stretch of road off now. It wasn't a waste of time."

"Okay, fine." I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.

Sometimes I feel like Dale can see me or something. It's like he can sense what I'm doing and rather than launching into more tiring conversation, he simply leans forward and turns on the radio.

The music washes over us as we amble back to town. I feel the beat thump inside me as the lyrics swirl in my brain. I can't help singing along.

"You actually like this song?"

I open my eyes and spot Dale's grin. "Everybody likes this song."

"No, no they really don't."

My eyebrows dip together. "Then why are you listening to it?"

"Because I like the sound of your voice."

Embarrassed, I sit up a little straighter. A smile tugs on my lips and I fight to iron it out.

"So you like to sing, at home, when no one's watching?" Dale changes gear and glances over at me.

"Maybe." I shrug.

"Hairbrush or deodorant?"

I grin.

"My hairbrush makes a much better microphone."

"Nice." Dale nods. "I was always more of a spatula kinda guy."

"You were not." I try to playfully whack his shoulder, but my hand goes straight through.

He scratches the spot I hit him and laughs. "I swear, I used to find every bowl and pot in the kitchen and turn it into this mega drum kit. I'd smack the hell out of those things. It drove my mother insane."

I laugh. "Good musicians start young, I guess."

"Yeah, well I'm hardly a talent, but I have fun."

"So, a drummer boy then. You know, that's actually pretty cool."

"Oh, well I'm glad you approve."

Another song starts and I feel my insides jolt with pleasure. I love this one.

"Can you turn it up, please?"

Dale obliges without comment and for some reason, I launch into song. I don't know why. I'd never do it with any of my friends, but I somehow feel as though I'm allowed to in this dungy old car. Like it's safe or something.

I finish the song with a loud flourish.