"Legally, I can't take her anywhere. I'm sixteen, Maya. Barely sixteen. She's nineteen. Who's the guardian here?"
I paused, then said, softly, "Oh."
"Yeah, oh. Annie and I never knew our dad. Our mom died last year when Annie was eighteen. Before the accident. So she got custody of me."
"Accident? It's brain damage?"
The look in Rafe's eyes, the grief ... It hurt just to see it, and he turned away fast, mumbling, "Yeah. It's brain damage. Point is that if anyone finds out, I'm off to a foster home and she's off to an institution. Which neither of us wants."
I stepped toward him. "I'm sorry. I just ..." Jumped to conclusions. Big surprise. "I'm sorry."
He turned back and ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, I know it looked bad. It is bad. I definitely don't want her living like this. The school thinks I'm seventeen, with my birthday early next year, so at worst, we'd have to wait that long."
I didn't know what to say to that. It was like when he admitted why he pretended to smoke--his honesty threw me. This time, though, he didn't seem to be trying to win points, which threw me all the more.
He was trusting me with things I hadn't earned his trust for, which only made me realize he didn't have anyone he could trust with stuff like that, not in Salmon Creek, and I felt bad for him, which I was sure he wouldn't want....
"I meant what I said," I said finally, "about spending time with Annie. Not in town obviously, but maybe we can go for a walk or whatever. She said she likes the forest. I could show her stuff."
"She'd like that." He looked over at me. "Thanks."
My cheeks heated. I looked away and mumbled, "Sure." Then I asked, "Are you coming to the party tomorrow?" because it was, at the moment, the only change of subject I could come up with.
"Daniel's party?" Rafe looked confused, as if he couldn't imagine why I'd think he was going to the party of a guy who obviously didn't like him.
"Well, it's at Daniel's place, but it's really--"
"Your birthday party. I know." He kept giving me that look, and I didn't blame him--I was as unlikely to invite him as Daniel was.
"Everyone goes," I said. "The whole class."
"Yeah, I know. Hayley asked if I was going, but I kind of figured that didn't exactly count as an invitation. Unless I went with her, which I'd really rather not."
I had to laugh at his expression. "Don't blame you. But you can now consider yourself officially invited by the birthday girl. It's an easier way to meet people than hanging out at the smoking pit. Healthier, too."
That got a smile from him. Not that lazy grin I'd seen so often, but something as different from his usual self as that ice-cold anger I'd seen him show to Sam and, later, to me. A crooked smile. Hesitant. Not quite shy, but close enough to do more to my insides than that sexy one he tossed around so casually. When I felt that, I felt a faint pang of panic, too--something in my gut that said falling for Rafe Martinez was a bad idea. When he said, "I'll see," in a tone that said he wasn't likely to show up, I was relieved.
"It depends on Annie," he said. "It's Saturday, so she'll expect me to stick around."
"Understandable," I said. "Have a good weekend, then, and I'll see you Monday."
I hurried off before he could reply.
TEN
"SO, NO TATTOO YET," I said as I sat on the rock, legs dangling over the edge. "Mom wants to take me to Vancouver for the weekend but ..."
That was our plan. I don't want to do it without you.
I couldn't say that, not even sitting here alone, talking to the lake, pretending Serena was still here, still swimming, still singing, forever swimming and singing.
I hardly ever came to the lake anymore. When I did, it was to talk to her, which seems weird, since this is the place she died. But it was the place she loved best, too, and if I sat very still and closed my eyes, I could hear her laughing, hear her singing.
Her voice haunted this place even more than her memory, and usually I couldn't take the reminder. But this was a special day, my sixteenth birthday, when we should have been in Vancouver, getting tattoos and bugging my mom to let us drive the car, then sneaking out at night to flirt with college guys.
"Mom still feels bad about what happened at the tattoo place," I said. "I wish she wouldn't. I just want to forget it." I hugged my knees to my chest. "That's weird, isn't it? That it's bugging me. Since when do I care what other people think? I do, I guess. But you always knew that."
I shifted again, the rock cold under me. "It's like this splinter that won't come out, and I keep picking at it and it only gets worse. Then there are the dreams. I had them last night again. I don't want to tell Mom and Dad, because they'll hike me back to Dr. Fodor, and he'll say it's post-traumatic stress, that seeing Daniel with that cougar brought it on again. What's the point of talking to a therapist if I know what he'll say?"