Christopher's Diary: Secrets of Foxworth

“I came up here a few times with the guys on Halloween.”

“I thought so when you said you had never been to Foxworth in the daytime.”

“It was stupid. There really wasn’t anything scary about the place. If anything, it looked pathetic to me, a shell of something. Everyone tried to scare everyone else, jumping out of shadows and moaning.”

“So why did you want to come here today?”

“Oh, I didn’t in particular. I just wanted an excuse to be with you.”

“You could have just come out and said it. We could have gone somewhere else.”

“It’s really not that bad.” He leaned toward me and looked at me closely.

“What?”

“Your eyes are the color of the sky today. It’s like you’re one with the world, at least here.”

“Am I?” I looked at the water. Did I have a special connection with Foxworth now? Would it burrow deep into my heart and be forever a part of me?

“You’re a very pretty girl, Kristin. You don’t notice me watching you most of the day, I’m sure, but sometimes I catch you looking almost . . .”

“Almost what?”

“Angelic. Like you’re somewhere else, somewhere beautiful and alone, someone really undiscovered as if you were lost in time . . . like this lake.”

“I don’t feel particularly angelic, but I’ll admit there are many times when I feel lost in time.”

He smiled, and then he kissed me, softly, keeping his lips against mine just a little longer, like someone sipping the last drops of honey. When we parted, he kept his face close, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m smart enough to know you’re special, Kristin,” he said, and then he kissed me again.

This time, I really kissed him back, as if there would be a magic carpet taking us away from all that was sad and dark in this world, taking us someplace warm and comfortable, a place where we could breathe happiness and never know sorrow, a place I was sure Christopher Dollanganger and his sister Cathy had hungered to be in.

“Now I’m sorry I’m having a party Friday. Who needs anyone else there?”

“I don’t know if my father would let me go to your house knowing your parents weren’t home.”

“So we wouldn’t tell.”

“You wouldn’t tell!” My eyes widened, even flamed. “I have a special relationship with my father. It’s based on honesty.”

“Ouch,” he said, holding up his hands. “Maybe you are Sandra Dee.”

I punched him again, and he exaggerated the blow and fell off the boulder.

“Killed at Foxworth!” he cried. “And by a distant cousin. How appropriate. Oh, woe is me.”

“Get up, you idiot.”

I stood up, and he scurried to his feet. “Your wish is my command,” he said. He leaned in to kiss me again. Then he took my hand. “You know why I really like you, Kristin?”

“You want me to help you with math,” I said, and he laughed.

“Man, you are easy to fall in love with.”

I stopped and looked at him. Was that true? And if it was, why? What made someone easy to love? What made it so easy for Corrine to fall in love with her half-uncle? What made it so easy for my father to fall head over heels in love with my mother? Was there something magical that happened? Was that happening to me, too? “Why?” I asked him.

I thought he would make a joke, but he looked very serious. I could see he was thinking carefully. “There are other pretty girls in school. I’ve gone out with one or two, but even though none of them is prettier than you, that’s not the only reason. You’re . . . naked,” he said.

“Excuse me?”