Betwixt

"Dale Fi

"That's right. You live just around the corner, don't you?"

"Yeah, you helped us find the house."

"I remember." She forces cheeriness into her voice.

"What can we do for you, Dale?" Dad pulls out a stool and offers Dale a seat.

Dale slides into the chair and looks around the kitchen.

I should let him know I'm here, but I can't. Words are stuck in my throat, clogging my airways, making it hard to breathe. What's he here to say?

"I..." He licks his lips and picks at the counter top. "I've been worried about Nicole. Do you guys have any more news?"

My parents look at each other, trying to have one of those wordless conversations, but I think they're a bit rusty.

Wait, no I see it.

They just had one!

Dad turns to Dale and with a broken voice admits, "We don't know what's happened to her."

"Have you heard from her?"

The hope in Mom's voice is hard to miss.

Dale shakes his head with a sad smile.

"You know you're the only one of her friends who's come to see if she's here. Are you two in some kind of relationship?"

I can sense my mother's struggle to ask. After what she discovered in the top drawer of my bedside table, I can understand why.

"No, ma'am." That smirk I love jumps onto his face. "No... uhh... she's not really into guys like me. I'm a little too outspoken and thoughtless for her tastes."

I move from my position in the doorway, my heart melting at his quiet words.

"So you're not friends?"

"I really want to be, but I guess I need to control my tongue first."

My parents look at each other in confusion.

"I'm just really sorry if I ever said anything to hurt her and I'll regret it forever if I don't get to see her again and tell her that."

I blink rapidly as tears blur my vision.

My father's brow dips with concern.

"Are you suggesting she ran away because you two had a fight?"

"No, sir." Dale sits up straight. "In fact," he pauses and takes a breath, "I'm wondering if she didn't run away at all."

"Why? Why are you saying that?"

I wince at the sharpness in my mother's voice.

It's impressive that Dale isn't shying away.

"I don't know, Mrs. Tepper, it's just a feeling... or a wondering. Has anyone considered the fact that she might not have skipped town?"

"The sheriff thinks she has." Mom's shoulders bunch with agitation.

"But is he right? I mean it's all just conjecture, isn't it?"

For some reason this is stressing my mother out more than the idea of me ru

"So what does that make her? If she hasn't run away, where is she?"

Dale and I both see where this is going and I desperately want to intervene.

"I'm not sure; I'm just suggesting that maybe someone should start searching for her."

Dad places a tender hand on Mom's back and gives it a small rub. "I've sent a picture of her to the Sheriff. He's sending it to the L.A.P.D. for us."

Dale looks a

"Are they going to do more? Aren't they going to search the area? Pull together a party of people? I'll help."

He rises from the stool.

"Son, we have to admit that Nicole ru

"But it's not the only one." He rubs his face. "Mr. Tepper I think you should be going back to the sheriff and insisting he starts searching for her."

"We have this under control, Dale." Dad's voice is calm, but I can hear a small edge creeping into it.

"Sir, I don't think you do. She didn't run away."

"Dale." My mother slaps the counter. "Stop. We are doing what we can and I want you to go."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Tepper, I didn't mean to upset you, I just..."

"Leave, please." Her voice breaks and wobbles as she turns away from him.

Dale repeats his apology one more time.

"Goodbye, Dale." Dad shoots him a pointed look and Dale has no rebuttal.

With a soft sigh, he shoves his hands in his pockets and walks to the door. He turns to scan the room one last time, his eyes alight with a hope that is swiftly dying. Dipping his head, he silently walks from the room.

His hand is on the doorknob when I reach him.

"Thank you," I whisper in his ear.

He goes statue still as his face washes with relief.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said that stuff to you," he whispers.

"I know... but I guess I can kind of be an irritating bitch."

"You're not." Dale turns to me. "I wish I could turn back time and erase that whole conversation. It's just my nose was throbbing and I was a

A laugh bursts from my lips before I can stop it.

With gentle fingers I touch his swollen nose.

"Oh that feels good." He closes his eyes. "Nice and cold."

My heart skips a beat as he raises his hand and places it on top of mine. He hovers above it making sure not to fall straight through my fingers. His eyes open and he gives me a long, steady gaze.

"Want to come home with me?"

I listen for sounds of my parents' conversation. It's getting heated, but that's not why I want to say yes.

I let go of his nose and reach for his hand. He senses what I'm doing and spreads his fingers.

"Let's go."

With a soft smile, he opens the door and we walk into the cool night air.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When we reach his house, we climb the stairs in silence. Dale closes the door behind him and I take a seat on his bed.

"Where's Jester?"

"He's been banished for the day after peeing on Mom's Persian."

I chuckle and move further back on the bed as Dale lies down on his back. I lay down so my head is resting near his then roll onto my side so I can see him. He turns in my direction.

"I wish I could touch you right now."

"Why?"

For some reason that makes me nervous. Plenty of other boys have said that to me before and I've always given in. I don't want it to be like that with Dale. Not that I can actually sleep with him right now, but if I could and I did... would he speak to me in the morning?

My voice shakes as I ask, "What would you do?"

"Well," Dale smiles, "you know your long bangs, how they always fall forward and cover up your left eye?"

I nod.

Dale moves to his side, so we're lying face to face. "I'd tuck them behind your ear and make sure you were looking at me so I could tell you that I don't think you're horrible, I think you're amazing."

"No you don't." I scoff.

He grins at me.

"I think that's another reason why I was so a

"I'm not awesome, Dale."

"Yes you are. I asked around... talked to your old friends. One of them told me you used to write these amazing poems. Brody, the guy from your English class, said you used to invite everyone over for these movie marathons and your mom would cook enough popcorn to feed a country."