Read Rumors Online

Authors: Erica Kiefer

Tags: #fiction, #mystery, #relationships, #young adult, #grief, #healing, #contemporary romance

Rumors (5 page)


Shh! Do you want us to get caught?”

With
muffled objections, I reached up with both my hands, pulling on his
forearm to make him release me. He chuckled, not letting
go.

Ok, he asked for it.

Twisting
my face, I bit his finger—hard.


Ow!” Shane pulled his hand away, shaking his right hand and
examining his finger. “You’re a little beast!” Despite his amused
tone, I knew the bite must have hurt.

I
grinned wickedly in satisfaction. “That’ll teach you to put your
hands on me like that,” I said.


You’re a fighter,” Shane concluded, shaking his head at me.
“That’s good. It’ll get you far in life.”

I
dropped my smile, his choice of words hitting home.

Fighter.

That’s
how everyone described me after the drowning accident last
summer.


It’s a good thing she’s a fighter
,”
I heard everyone say at the hospital when I pretended to be asleep,
not wanting to face anyone or answer the questions that they wanted
answers to.
“She could have died,
too.

I
was
a
fighter. I knew I’d put up a good fight against the tumultuous
river—but so had Maddie. She had more fight in her than I did. She
should have survived. If only I hadn’t—


Allie…” Shane ventured closer, noticing my sudden change in
demeanor. I knew what he could see—the emotionally broken parts of
me displayed on my face, weighing heavily on my shoulders. My
posture would appear slightly hunched, as if I struggled to carry a
load—and my hazel eyes, most of all, would be void of the
glistening laughter from moments ago. I knew how I looked because
I’d seen those sorrowful eyes, accusing me from my own reflection,
for months.


I’m sorry,” Shane said, his voice apologetic and touched with
confusion. “What did I say?”

I shook
my head, my eyes casting to the ground. He was oblivious to the
impact of his words, probably not even considering that I was
thinking about Maddie. Thoughts of the accident often hit me out of
nowhere. It wasn’t Shane’s fault. Like everyone else, he lived a
sheltered life—and I didn’t mean from a worldly standpoint. He had
never experienced the hurt and pain I was suffering, so he couldn’t
relate. No one could.

No, it
wasn’t his fault at all. Shane’s life was void of the emotional
devastation that comes from loss—from guilt. He was just an average
senior in high school, a typical jock juggling academics and
athletics, whose biggest worry was which college he would attend. I
couldn’t expect more of him, and so I would not even try to pull
him into my disparaging world.

I forced
a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing.” My voice was a whisper, pushing
past my emotions. “I… just remembered I was supposed to drive my
sisters home thirty minutes ago.” I let out a breath of air,
playing the part. “My mom’s gonna kill me. She didn’t want them at
the party too long.” I couldn’t make my eyes meet Shane’s. I didn’t
know if he believed me—if he could see past my strained
façade.

I also
didn’t expect his soft lips to touch my forehead, or for him to
place his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me
closer.

My
breath caught in my chest, confused and uncertain. Shane’s lips
lingered on my skin before he lowered his forehead to mine. I
closed my eyes, uncertain if Shane’s eyes were closed as well, or
if he was watching my tentative reaction.

Either
way, I didn’t see him make his move. I only felt him place his
fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face. His lips touched mine,
ever so softly—almost in question, like he was testing my response.
My mouth opened slightly, perhaps about to protest. I don’t know
for sure because the next moment, before I could decide if my heart
was drumming faster from attraction or nervousness, Shane moved his
mouth more adamantly to mine. His hand slid to the side of my face,
holding me steady.

I
surrendered.

His kiss
became our kiss. A shiver ran down my body, igniting a fuse of
emotions—like a breath of fresh air blowing away the heaviness. In
that moment, I forgot about my pain, and my guilt. All thoughts of
Maddie were pushed aside.

For the
first time in months, I felt sheltered.

Shane’s
kiss was the first thing I remembered when I awoke in bed Saturday
morning. I had replayed the scene repeatedly in my mind, recalling
the startling way our kiss began, and then how I’d allowed it to
transform into something I wanted—something I needed.

Regret
hit my empty stomach.

My hands
rubbed at my eyes, and I ran a hand through my loose, wavy hair. I
groaned and sat up in bed, draping my head over my knees. I
shouldn’t have allowed the kiss to happen. It didn’t mean anything.
I knew Shane wouldn’t think twice about it, and I wondered if I
should feel used. The whole evening had been an easy set up for a
one-night stand.

But I
had used him, too. Maddie’s death lingered over me like a rain
cloud, every day threatening to pour down the accompanying guilt
and despair linked with her memories. I’d enjoyed the temporary
amnesia from constantly thinking about her. I supposed that made
Shane and me even. We both got what we wanted, and we could move
on.

My cell phone chirped, signaling a text message. It was from
Shane and read, “
Good morning, beautiful.
Do I get to see you today?”

Wait, what?

I read
the text one more time, confusion hitting my eyebrows. What
happened to the one-night stand idea? Not that I liked the idea of
being used, but it was certainly easier than… whatever Shane’s text
implied.

Within
the hour, I was dressed in warm running gear, an iPod attached to
my arm and headphones dangling loosely around my neck.


Allie, are you sure you want to run this morning?” Mom asked
from the breakfast table. She took a bite of pancakes from the
plate she’d put together for me after I politely declined. “It’s
cold out there. Why don’t you wait for it to warm up this
afternoon?”

I lifted
my shoe onto the chair to tie my lime-green shoelaces, a brilliant
contrast to the black Asics encasing my feet. “It’s just one of
those mornings,” I said, the line I always used if I’d had a
Maddie-related nightmare or a case of insomnia. Mom knew that
running cleared my head and never questioned me once I released my
key phrase. I felt bad for lying this time, but I didn’t feel like
hashing out boy issues with her right now. I would figure it
out.

My feet
hit the pavement, thumping in steady repetition. The chilly
November air folded me in its embrace and I fought against it, my
muscles fighting to warm up and push through the cold. Saturday
mornings were often peaceful at this time. Cars that normally sped
by on the way to work rested quietly in their garages. Doors and
windows remained shut while families enjoyed their day off
together. I passed a few people walking their dogs, a few joggers…
I returned a friendly nod and kept running. Eyes didn’t follow me,
wondering if I was ok or pausing to judge my behavior. I didn’t
have to accept advice or explain how I was feeling. I simply ran
until I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and feel my breath
inhale and exhale methodically.

Three
miles out, I paused to catch my breath, my chest slightly burning
from the cold. I wiggled my fingers for warmth and stretched my
tight hamstring. A car pulled up alongside the road with the window
rolled down. Tara called out to me.


Good morning, crazy girl!”

I walked
over to the window and peered inside. Resting my hands on the
window frame, my fingers appreciated the flow of heat from the
vents. I definitely needed to start wearing gloves. “Hi, Tara. What
are you doing here?”


I stopped by and your mom told me your route, so I thought
I’d pick you up for breakfast. We need to talk!” Her eyes lit up
with excitement, and she smiled knowingly.

I
groaned. “What is it you think we need to talk about?”


Oh, stop it already. I know about you and Shane. Come on,
girl, get in here! Let’s grab some breakfast.”

Hesitation and annoyance dragged my movement, but I relented.
It was better that I explained the situation to her than allow Tara
to spread faulty news. Stepping into the car, the radio blared the
latest hits. I took a final glance at the peaceful, empty sidewalk
with envy.

We drove
to a café just down the block. Tara sipped on hot chocolate while I
wrapped my hands around a mug of herbal tea. Blueberry muffins sat
between us on our small, round table for two.


What do you mean—you’re confused?” Tara asked, leaning
towards me. “This is awesome! Me and Austin—you and Shane. It
doesn’t get any cooler than best friends dating best
friends!”


So you’ve said,” I murmured, picking at the streusel on my
muffin. This whole thing started because of that ridiculous notion
of hers. I rubbed the grains of sugar between my fingers. “Shane’s
hot and everything, but I’m not sure there’s more to our
relationship than that.” I reflected on the fumbled conversations
we’d had so far, none of which were inspiring, or comforting in the
least.

Tara put her muffin down from her mouth. “Well, don’t you
think there
could
be?”


I don’t know,” I said, “but the point is, there’s not. Shane
has been nothing but a temporary distraction. I’m content to leave
it at that.”

Tara
tapped her finger on the table as though stifling impatience.
“That’s not how he describes it from his end.” She held out her
iPhone, scrolling through text messages between her and Austin.
Some of them were texts between Shane and Austin that had made
their way to Tara.

One text from Shane in particular caught my eye.
“I don’t know, man. There’s something about her
that I really like. She’s a little tough to crack, but I’m up for
the challenge.”

I didn’t
know if I should feel flattered or irritated at being perceived and
discussed as a “challenge.” And didn’t the term “crack” suggest I
was a nut?


The point is,” Tara interrupted, “he likes you, and I really
think you two could hit it off.”


Why do you care so much?” I asked, not hiding the annoyance
in my tone.


Because Allie, it’s been fun going out on dates and to
parties with you. It almost feels like it used to be, you know…
before.” Tara dropped her lashes momentarily, rubbing her lips
together with uncertainty. She glanced back up at me, surely
wondering if I caught her meaning. Of course I did. All anyone
wanted was for me to go “back to normal,” so they could cross me
off their list of worries and return to
their
normal life.

I stood
up, wrapping a napkin around my muffin and unintentionally molding
my grip into it. “Let’s just get out of here, ok? Thanks for buying
breakfast.” Before I could stalk out the door, Tara grabbed my
wrist, standing so her eyes met mine.


Look, I’m sorry, ok? I know your cousin’s death still affects
you. I’m your best friend—I understand how you feel.” I fidgeted at
her latter statement, but she carried on unaware. “I just hate to
see everything you’ve worked for at this point in high school get
kicked to the curb. We could have
a
lot
of
fun
this year.” She let go of my arm but peered at me
earnestly. “It’s your senior year. It’ll be gone before you know
it.”

I stared
back at her. “So you want me to pretend to like Shane?”

Tara
shifted her stance. “Not ‘pretend’ necessarily. But give him a
chance. I think it’d be helpful for you to have something else to
think about.”

While I could agree that the distraction with Shane had been
refreshing, I didn’t know how helpful it could be in the long run.
I told Tara I’d consider it and asked her to let it be for now.
When she dropped me off at my doorstep, I didn’t return with the
clear head I’d hoped for. I frowned at the Lexus parked in my
driveway. Someone quite wealthy was visiting my house—or at least
the
son
of
someone quite wealthy. With anticipation, I pushed the latch on my
door and stepped into the house.

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