Snowed In (11 page)

It
was
kinda awesome. I’d never seen a bat up close like this.

“Go ahead and pet it,” he said.

It looked pretty harmless. I reached out—

It released an ear-splitting screech and flew toward me!

I let loose a blood-curdling scream and found 126

myself facedown on the floor of the cave, with Josh lying on top of me, covering me, while the cave filled with the horrendous echoing of a thousand angry wings.

When things finally quieted, we scrambled out of the cave, sliding down the snowy embankment until we landed on even ground.

I was breathless, my heart beating so hard that I figured it would wake up
all
the hibernating crea-tures within a five-mile radius.

Laughing, Josh dropped back in the snow, like he was planning to make a snow angel or something. But I figured that was the last thing on his mind.

“They’ve never done that before. Scared the crap out of me,” he said.

I figured I’d just scared ten years off my life expectancy. I was shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold.

We were both breathing hard. I had my arms wrapped around my drawn-up knees, trying to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. I pressed my forehead to my legs. “Do you go in there a lot?”

“Yeah. I like studying bats. Weird, I know—”

“No, not weird.” I glanced over at him. “My grandparents live in Austin. I’ve seen bats there when I’ve gone to visit them. I think it’s neat to 127

watch them. And when we went on vacation at Carlsbad, my dad and I watched the bats leaving the cavern at sunset, then we got up before dawn to watch them coming back. It was totally awesome, the way they just swooped in one after another.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at me. Maybe he was trying to figure out why I thought he’d care about my previous bat-seeking excursions.

“I should have told you I had a girlfriend,” he said quietly.

He shoved himself into a sitting position. “I really did think that Nathalie had told you, but I didn’t say anything because if she hadn’t—or even if she had—I didn’t want to talk about her. I just wanted to find out everything I could about you. I wanted to get to know you. And I guess I felt kinda guilty about that.”

My breathing had slowed. As a matter of fact, it had almost stopped completely. Because while he’d talked he’d moved really close to me. I could see the deep blue of his eyes.

“I like you a lot, Ash.”

Our breaths were visible as they mingled, intertwined.

“A whole lot,” he said in a low voice.

128

Then our breaths were no longer mingling, because neither of us was breathing. We were kissing.

And all I could think about was how much I liked the swirl, that Josh was an absolute master at kissing.

I had a feeling the snow around us was going to start melting.

But as much as I enjoyed him kissing me, as much as I didn’t want him to stop, I couldn’t help wondering . . .

Had I just become the other woman?

129

11

I shoved Josh’s shoulder, breaking us apart.

“We can’t do this,” I said, scrambling away from him, getting to my feet. “You’ve got a girlfriend.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“Based on the past couple of minutes, I’d say you forgot.”

“Ash, wait!”

I was skidding onto the trail, desperate to get to the skis, trying to figure out how I could move the quickest—by ski or by foot.

He grabbed my arm. I jerked free. “Don’t!

Nathalie was my first friend here. I’m not going to do
that
to her,” I said, pointing back to the place where we’d been kissing. The snow was no longer pristine there. It had obviously been disturbed.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’ve just wanted to kiss you ever since that first morning—”

130

I shoved him hard, he staggered back. “That’s the reason you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.

You were flirting with me.”

“No. I mean, okay, maybe I didn’t intentionally mention Nathalie because I thought you’d put up barriers. I know it makes me sound like a jerk, but I don’t want to hurt Nathalie. I mean, she’s been my girlfriend since I was twelve. I care about her.”

“Oh, yeah, that was real obvious back there.” I jammed the toe of my boot into the ski, locked it in place, and reached for the other.

“I’ve never kissed another girl,” he said.

“Yeah, right.” I shoved the other boot into place.

“I swear, I never have. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’ve never wanted to.”

“Then why me?” I spun around to face him, lost my balance, and landed on my butt.

He was beside me before I could blink.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I honest to God don’t know.”

He wrapped his hand around my arm, helped me to my feet, or my skis, rather. Whatever. He helped me stand.

I was frazzled, upset. I didn’t want to be the other woman—the other girl—the person who tore them apart, who might be responsible for . . .

131

Omigod! What if they broke up and it was my fault?

“That’s never going to happen again,” I said determinedly.

“Okay.”

I heard the resignation in his voice.

“Okay,” I said, hearing the disappointment in mine.

I watched him drop the flashlight into his backpack before shrugging it onto his shoulders.

He put on his skis, concentrating on a task that I figured he could probably do in his sleep.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “But I can’t be the other girl.”

He glanced over at me and gave me a sad sort of smile. “I know.”

“She’s crazy about you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut like the words hurt.

He heaved a deep sigh. “We need to get back.” He started to move past me and I grabbed his arm. “And Josh, I don’t do boyfriends.”

“Okay, already. I get it.” I heard the irritation in his voice. “Let’s just go.”

“No.” Shaking my head, I held his gaze. “I didn’t say that right. What I mean is that I don’t want a boyfriend. I like to date, but I only go out 132

with a guy a couple of times. I don’t want anything permanent. I’m not like the girls here. They all have boyfriends. I don’t want one.”

“But Chase—”

“He likes to date around too. So we’ll have some fun. Then he’ll move on to the fudgies and I’ll”—I sighed—“move on to online dating.”

“And hook up with a serial killer?” I wrinkled my nose, which was going numb with the cold. “Okay, the same thought occurred to me. But the point is, I shouldn’t have gotten upset about you having a girlfriend, because the most you and I would have is a date or two.” I’d convinced myself that’s the way it would be. I wasn’t upset that he had a girlfriend. I was upset that we wouldn’t have a single date.

“How do you know?” he asked. “You might really like me—”

“I don’t do boyfriends. Period. No, exclamation mark.”

“What are you afraid of?”

I scoffed. “Nothing. Just following my mom’s advice.”

“No one follows their mom’s advice.”

“Well, I do. And I just felt like I should let you know. Because I totally overreacted.” 133

And I found some comfort in knowing that I wouldn’t be faced with making a decision regard-ing our relationship.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go home.” I seemed to have finally learned how to move quickly and smoothly using the skis. I didn’t lose my balance once. Before I knew it, we came out of the woods and onto the trail that would lead to the street.

We took off our skis and started walking.

Josh glanced over his shoulder. “A taxi’s coming. Do you want to grab a ride? I’ll pay.” I glanced back over my shoulder. This one was a sleigh instead of a wagon like we’d taken from the airport.

The reality was that I wanted nothing more than to take a sleigh ride with Josh. But only because I thought it would be romantic. And romance was the one thing I couldn’t have with him.

“No. I’m good walking.”

The horse clomped by, the runners sliding with ease over the snow-packed ground. Watching it disappear around the bend, I wondered if I’d ever take a romantic sleigh ride.

As we got nearer to Nathalie’s, I said, “Thank Nathalie for letting me use her skis.” 134

“You’re not coming up to the house?”

“No, I think I’ll go on.” I don’t know why, but I was afraid she’d see evidence in my face that I’d kissed her boyfriend. Like maybe he was branded on my lips or something. Silly, I know, but guilt can give you really weird thoughts.

“Well, thanks for going with me,” he said.

“Yeah, sure.” I stopped myself from saying,

“Anytime.”

Because the truth was, I really couldn’t do this with him anytime. As a matter of fact, I could never do it again, because already I was wishing that we’d kissed a little longer, that I had a few more minutes of the memory.

“Thanks for sharing the bats with me,” I said.

“Even though they aren’t rodents.”

“It was sure an experience I’ll never forget,” he said.

I thought he might have been talking about more than the bats, but he didn’t elaborate, and I was glad. I wanted to believe that the attraction had taken him completely by surprise and that he wasn’t a jerk.

That he wasn’t like my dad.

I loved my dad, but it hurt that he was marrying someone else. I tried so hard not to think about it.

Josh stopped at the fence in front of Nathalie’s 135

house. I probably should have stopped too, but I kept going.

“I’ll see you around,” he called after me.

Not if I see you first.

A totally childish thing to think. Fortunately, I didn’t give in to my instincts to say it. Instead, I gave him a wave and continued on, wishing I didn’t know what it was like to spend time with him, to share moments with him, and most of all to kiss him.

136

12

I know some girls load up on ice cream when they’re feeling blue. Others gorge on white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies—preferably warm, with the chocolate still melted. Tara usually curls up with a romance novel that she sneaks out of the stash beneath her mom’s bed.

But me? I indulge in horror movies.

Fortunately, our little section of the island had a video store, cleverly named Videos, Etc.

Although it was already dark, I walked over.

Apparently the crime rate here was zero. Back home no way would I have walked several blocks, alone in the dark. But it was different here. I felt totally safe.

The clerk behind the counter greeted me when I came in. He was tall and skinny. It seemed like every day was a bad hair day for him. His was sticking up at all angles, and obviously not due to any effort on his part.

137

The place was ominously quiet except for a Disney video playing on a small TV behind the counter.

The store was also noticeably absent of customers. I wasn’t in any hurry, so I browsed the aisles looking for something different.

I could never get worked up about watching romantic movies. When Tara slept over, we always rented chick flicks—
Bridget Jones’ Diary
,
Pride and
Prejudice
. Tara has a real thing for English accents.

We once did a twenty-four-hour marathon of chick flicks. They’re fun when I’m watching them with someone who really enjoys watching them.

But when it’s just me . . . I like to be scared silly. Of course, my preference for scary movies over chick flicks made me a popular date. At least back home.

I hadn’t even seen a movie theater here.

I finally made it to the horror aisle, and much to my surprise, they had quite a selection. I heard a door open. The guy behind the counter issued his standard “hi,” and a low voice answered back.

I crouched and picked up the case for
The
Darkroom.
I hadn’t seen it yet. My film selection of choice and my best friend were incompatible. When we did rent horror together, Tara had a habit of curling up in a chair with her eyes and ears covered for most of the movie. Where’s the fun in that?

138

“You’re kidding me. You like horror?” I jerked my head around. Josh was standing there, studying me, acting like nothing had happened between us that afternoon. Like all was normal. I could pretend too.

“Uh . . .” I looked at the case I was holding, then looked at him. “As a matter of fact I do.” I stood up.

“Have you seen
The Ring
?” he asked.

“Opening day.”

He leaned toward me and whispered low, “The little girl in that movie scared the crap out of me. I slept with my bedroom light on for a week.”

“You should see
Ringu
. It’s the Japanese ver-sion, and it’s a lot scarier.”

“You’re into J-horror?” he asked.

Could he look any more surprised?

“Big-time.”

Grinning, he looked me over, from the toes of my boots to the tassel on top of my knit cap. “You don’t look the type.”

“And what does
the type
look like, exactly?”

“Like someone who shaves.”

“I shave.”

“Not your face.”

“What a sexist snob!”

He held up his hands like he was fending off an 139

attack. “I’m just saying . . . most girls I know watch horror movies with their eyes closed.”

“What about Nathalie?”

That reminder—or maybe it was my sharp tone—knocked the grin off his face.

“Eyes totally closed,” he said.

“I watch with mine wide open.”

“I’m impressed. The next time a horror movie is showing around here, I might have to make you prove that.”

Omigod! Had he just asked me out?

As if “Omigod! Did I just ask her out?” had suddenly flashed through his mind, his eyes widened and he suddenly became very interested in the movie selection.

“I haven’t even seen a theater,” I told him.

He kept his eyes on the videos. “One of the hotels has movie night every now and then in their ballroom.”

“You’re kidding.”

No sixteen-screen multiplexes here. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

He peered at me. “No. Plus there’s a theater on the mainland.”