Caught in the Crossfire Page 7

  Nearby, a loon yodeled. Too close. “Ian, we need to leave. I think Edward and Bella are nesting near here.”

  “That’d be cool to see.” Ian peered past the lily pads toward the long marsh grasses that grew along the shore.

  “You don’t understand.” I plunged my paddle into the lake. The canoe moved away from the shore. “We could scare them. They could abandon their nest and their babies.”

  Bella floated into view. On her back were two brown fuzzy babies. Edward pulled himself upright and tucked his wings against his body, propelling himself furiously toward us with his feet.

  “What’s he doing?” Ian laughed.

  “It’s called the penguin dance. He thinks we’re a threat to his family so he’s trying to scare us away. He won’t stop until we leave or he dies of exhaustion.” I didn’t find anything funny about the situation.

  Ian read my face, swiveled in his seat, and thrust his oar into the water. Our canoe shot forward. Edward relaxed and sank onto the lake.

  “Not to be negative or anything, but you do know things got pretty weird for Edward and Bella, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.” I stared across the lake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh man, is it early.” I yawned. Two days had passed since we had taken the canoe out. Four days since the kiss. Four long days locked in an orbit around Ian and four long nights of constant dreams. Some were about the war—my father, walking into a building minutes before it blew up. Others were about Ian. Those were rated R or higher. I prayed every night. For the dreams to stop. For Jesus to protect my dad. For strength to fight my feelings. The carved letters WWJD on the bunk above me demanded an answer I didn’t have. I even searched the bathroom for my cross, but it was gone. Swept up with all my good intentions and tossed away.

  Day after day we grew closer. To each other. To impact.

  I knew I should run.

  Instead, Ian came up with an idea to take my mind off my dad and asked me to meet him in the dining hall.

  “This is your idea of fun? Hauling me out of bed before six a.m.? Sorry, but I’m not sure this is keeping my mind off anything since I’m still half-asleep.”

  “Quit your griping.” Ian grinned. “Besides, you’ll cheer up when you hear my news. I found us a private place where we can meet. It’s about twenty feet away from the highest ridge of the trail that goes around Spirit Lake. The offshoot to it is so hidden no one else would be able to find it.”

  I lifted my head off the table. Private place? My heart began to thud again. Terror and temptation: the twins that had invaded my mind. “An offshoot to a hidden place? How come I don’t know about it?”

  “I only found it because I was following a porcupine,” Ian said, impressed with himself. Wanting me to be impressed as well.

  I blinked as his words registered. “I know it’s early, but did you say you were following a porcupine?”

  “Yup.”

  “Tell me there’s more to this story.” Curiosity began to gnaw at me.

  “I had to get away from camp for a bit. Don’t you ever feel like that?”

  “Sure, sometimes.”

  “So, I was exploring the forest and saw a porcupine cruising down a path. I followed him, but he disappeared into a bush. When I knelt, I discovered a small opening. Of course I had to check it out.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “When I came out on the other side, I found myself in this clearing that has the most perfect view of the camp. It’s unbelievable. I mean, we can see everything that’s happening here, but they can’t see us at all. It’s like looking down on the inside of an anthill. It’s totally private. We’re going. Right after breakfast.”

  “Hey!” Bethany walked into the dining hall and sat next to me. “What are you guys doing up so early?”

  “Ask him,” I grumbled.

  “Jonathan’s not a morning person.” Ian blew off her question. If I’d been more awake, I would have busted him on it. “What are you doing here so early?”

  “Hannah’s baking cinnamon rolls for breakfast. It’s a big job so I volunteered to help her.”

  “That’s nice of you,” I said.

  “She’s going to give me her recipe.” Bethany grinned. “I’d better get into the kitchen now. Jonathan, do you want to go for a canoe ride after breakfast?” She placed her hand on my arm. She smiled. Ian didn’t.

  “Sorry, but Jonathan and I made a date to memorize our lines after breakfast.” Ian used his innocent tone. He reached beneath the table and squeezed my leg.

  “I need to do that too. Can I join you?” Bethany’s fingers stroked my arm.

  “We’re concentrating on the Herod/John the Baptist scene. Maybe another time.” Ian smiled, squeezing tighter.

  “Oh, okay then. Another time. ’Bye guys.” Bethany walked into the kitchen. The smell of baking bread filled the dining room.

  “We made a date?” I hissed at Ian. “What are you thinking?”

  “That it would be nice to get away with you today. Alone.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as the dining hall filled up for breakfast. After Paul’s prayer, Ian got in line for breakfast, but I stayed and passed. I already had plenty to digest.

  We waited for thirty minutes after breakfast, pretending to practice our lines in the dining hall. Truthfully, we were waiting for Hannah to finish cleaning the dishes and leave her kitchen ripe for the raiding, as Ian said.

  “You’re not going swimming?” Hannah asked as she walked through the dining hall.

  “No.” Ian lied with ease. “I burn too easily.”

  Hannah took one look at his pale complexion and accepted the answer without question.

  “You guys can stay as long as you like. Just close up when you leave, okay?”

  “Sure, Hannah. No problem.” The twinges of guilt struck me. We waited another ten minutes, just to be safe, before we snuck into the kitchen.

  “I’m still not sure about this,” I said as a strawberry-rhubarb pie and a six-pack of root beer disappeared into Ian’s backpack. “Hannah would give us the food if we just asked her.”

  “Yeah, she probably would, but then you’d be missing the whole point.”

  “And the point is?”

  The sound of whistling sent us scrambling out of the kitchen. Ian grabbed a bag of Doritos and flew out the door with me two steps behind him. This is crazy, I thought, Crazy, but fun! Which, of course, was Ian’s point.

  Ian alternated sauntering with sudden bursts of sprinting toward the edge of the woods. He could have passed for Mike Myers in a corny Austin Powers movie minus the tuxedos, the hot girls, and the cool British accent.

  “You’re insane!” I laughed as we ducked into the forest. Ian doubled over, panting. “I mean, you’re certifiable! You should have seen yourself!”

  “Me? What about you? I’ve seen less guilty-looking criminals on America’s Most Wanted. C’mon, this way to Porcupine Point.”

  The light in the woods loved Ian. It fell on him and turned his red hair into an open flame that could spark a forest fire at any moment. I followed him up a steep incline. The rocks were slippery, covered in lime-green moss, and beautiful against the rich black dirt of the trail. Ian led us down a path I didn’t know. I scanned for landmarks, anything that might tell me where we were. When I looked back, Ian had disappeared.

  “Ian? Where are you?”

  “You’ve got to come through here.” He stuck his hand out and waved through a nearly invisible gap in the bushes.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. It’s bigger than it looks.”

  I knelt and crawled through the opening. My head bashed into something hard.

  “Shit! I didn’t tell you to barge through. Crap!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I crawled through the bush and found Ian sprawled on his butt, scowling and rubbing his forehead.

  “Wow!” Stepping into the clearing felt just like finding hidden treasure I didn�
�t have to share. Except with Ian, and he was part of the treasure.

  “I know, right?”

  I crossed the patch of grass in a dozen steps, stood at the edge of the cliff, and looked across Spirit Lake. I felt Ian move behind me. He made no noise and I didn’t look at him, but I felt him coming closer to me. That’s the way it had become with us. Orbiting. Always orbiting. Vertigo hit as I looked at the rocks below and imagined falling hard. The waves pounded, splashing against the shore, wearing down even the strongest of rocks. I sat down on the grassy edge where I couldn’t fall or jump.

  We were right across from camp. Far enough away that we were invisible to anyone who happened to look in our direction. I leaned back to take in the full view of the sprawling sky above me.

  “So who exactly is this John the Baptist guy?” Ian sat down next to me.

  “Wow. I guess I just assumed you knew who John the—”

  Ian raised an eyebrow and frowned at me.

  “I know, I know. Erroneous assumptions, right? Let’s see, who’s John the Baptist? He’s from the New Testament. He traveled around telling people the Messiah had come. A lot of people didn’t want to hear that, so John had a tough life. He lived in the wilderness a lot and looked kind of wild.”

  “What was his beef with Herod?”

  “Basically John the Baptist got in trouble for saying that it was against God’s commandments for Herod to get divorced and marry his brother’s ex-wife.”

  “Sounds like this John the Baptist had a big mouth.”

  “What can I say? Sara has a gift for perfect casting.” He walked right into it.

  “Ouch.” Ian laughed, easy and light. He threaded his fingers through mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. “So, they were both divorced when they got married?”

  “Yup. That’s the story.”

  “I don’t get it. Divorced people remarry all the time. No one has a hissy fit about it.”

  “Yeah, but that’s now. The Bible was written thousands of years ago. Things were different back then.”

  Ian thought for a few moments. “So the Bible is outdated.”

  I pulled my hand away and stared at him.

  “It must be if we can get divorced now, but we couldn’t then. What else could it be? Unless God changed His mind.”

  “God doesn’t change His mind. God is constant.” A wave crashed against the rocks below.

  “Something changed, Jonathan.”

  Ian’s logic hit me hard. “I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it before. We could ask Paul. He’d know the answer.”

  “Pass.” Ian rolled his eyes. “You hungry yet?”

  “Starving.”

  “Too bad we only brought one pie and it’s all mine.” Ian sprang up and ran toward the backpack.

  “No way!” I was right behind him.

  He reached the pie first. Of course he did.

  “Open up.” Ian leaned forward, scooping a huge forkful of strawberry-rhubarb decadence and waving it in front of my face.

  I leaned forward, parted my lips, and an explosion of tart and sweet hit my tongue. Saliva flooded my mouth, and I tried not to think about how Ian feeding me pie didn’t feel the slightest bit like being a kid. It felt like being a man. With a man.

  “Want more?” he asked in that damned sexy way he had of layering meanings.

  I nodded.

  “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

  “Why?”

  “Because everything is better with your eyes closed.”

  The statement was ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as the fact that I obeyed and waited for what I knew was going to happen. At least his lips tasted like strawberry rhubarb.

  And so we took turns, feeding each other bites of pie and kisses until there was no more pie and no more excuse for our game.

  “Get away!” I waved my hand at the bees that crawled over the empty pie plate. The sound of their buzzing filled my ears.

  “Let them be and come over here.” Ian leaned against the tree trunk, not even trying to hide the bulge in his shorts.

  I looked away from him. The bees swarmed the pie plate, a mass of yellow-and-black bodies crawling over each other, sucking at the sweet smears of syrup.

  “You think it’s safe?” I ran my fingers through my hair and wished for better words. “Ignoring the fact that at any moment we could both get stung?”

  “I can handle it,” he said, and I believed him. He could handle it.

  I also knew I wasn’t him. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Ian stood and picked up the pie plate. He walked to the edge of the cliff and hurled it. For a moment it hung in the air, suspended, like a UFO before crashing on the rocks below. The bees never moved. They could have flown away at any moment, but instead they rode the plate to their doom, intent on only one thing: satisfying their need. He turned to look at me, expectation written in his eyes.

  I opened my script. “We should practice our lines for Curtain Call.”

  Ian sighed and lay down in the shade of a tree. “Nope, no can do. I need to digest.” He peeled off his T-shirt, bunched it up under his head, and closed his eyes.

  My eyes crawled over his face, along the ridge of his collarbone, across his thin, defined chest and his ribs that jutted out. Over his pink nipples and down to his belly button and beyond.

  “Okay, but we shouldn’t wait too long. Sara’s going to expect us to have these lines down soon.”

  “I agree. We shouldn’t wait too long.” Ian yawned and stretched his arms out. “Parents’ day will be here before you know it. Now will you come over here if I promise not to bite?”

  Ian’s arm was too skinny to really be a comfortable pillow, but that didn’t stop me from resting my head on it. It didn’t stop me from discovering that he was right. Again. Everything was better with your eyes closed. Kisses, pie, dreams of kisses and pie, and before I knew what had happened, I woke up hours later, Ian’s legs and arms flung over me, to the grating buzzing sound of ravenous mosquitoes.

  “Ian, we fell asleep!” Without thinking, I put my hands on his chest and tried to shake him awake. A current ran over his smooth skin. One touch shocked me even more awake.

  “Shit! What time is it?” He sat up, eyes wide open.

  “I don’t know.” I looked at the sinking sun. “Maybe seven? They’ll be wondering about us.”

  Ian pulled his shirt over his head and shoved the empty root beer cans in his backpack. We sprinted through the forest. Along the upper trail, down the mossy rocks to the lower trail. Our feet pounded against the dirt path. Out of breath and swatting at angry red welts, we tried to act cool as we walked into the dining hall. The scent of Tater Tot hot dish hung in the air. A light chatter buzzed in the background. The dining hall was nearly empty. The main swarm had already left. Hannah was just beginning to clear her serving line.

  “Would you boys like a slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie?” Hannah asked, a knowing glint in her narrowed sky-blue eyes. Her fists planted on her wide hips. Only her smile betrayed her good nature. “Or have you already had one?”

  “Thanks, Hannah, we’re good.” I shot an accusing glance at Ian.

  “Are you now?” Hannah plopped a scoop of steaming hot dish on our plates. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Oh, we’re good, but we’re not half as good as your strawberry-rhubarb pie, Hannah,” Ian said, taking a piece of pie.

  “You nearly got us into trouble,” I hissed as we sat down and looked at my sparse tray, regretting that I’d passed on Hannah’s pie.

  “There’s no such thing as nearly.” Ian took a bite of pie. “For example, you nearly had another slice of pie. I doubt that’s much comfort though.”

  “Loser.”

  “Do I have to remind you again to stop talking about yourself? It’s quite narcissistic.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Regretting our getaway?”

  “Um, let’s see. We almost got in trouble, I’m covered in
mosquito bites, you murdered a bunch of bees, and everyone is probably wondering where we were all afternoon. What do you think?”

  “Are you?”

  “No, not at all.” I held his eyes.

  “Good. Me neither.” Ian pushed his half-eaten slice of pie over to me. “Besides, you’ve got to admit it worked. You didn’t think about him once today.”

  “Who?”

  “Your dad.”

  “No, I didn’t. Not once.” I swallowed hard.

  “Lighten up. You’re allowed to have some fun, you know.”

  Ian smiled at me. A hot flush spread across my cheeks.

  “Speaking of which, meet me tonight once everyone in your cabin is asleep. Down by the lake where I found you before. Oh, and bring a towel.”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “Because we’re going skinny-dipping.”

  My jaw dropped in astonishment, but no words came out. My mind went blank. I picked up a fork and took a bite of Ian’s pie, the aftertaste of strawberry and sin lingering in my mouth.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I lay in my bunk, listening to the sounds of heavy, rhythmic breathing and Jake’s thundering snore.

  Should I?

  The crickets were tuning up their wings. Their songs floated on the night breeze that slipped through the screen window, stirring my imagination. In the moist sand, burrowed deep in their amphitheater holes, they called for their mates. They were not alone.

  I pulled the zipper on my sleeping bag open, freed my legs, and felt for my towel in the darkness. Aaron looked sound asleep. What explanation could I possibly give if he woke up and noticed I had snuck out?

  I inched the door open to avoid creaking and slipped out of the cabin, clutching my towel and my vow to be truthful. Consequences be damned.

  I found him sitting just as I had imagined him, on the shore. Leaning far back, face to the night sky, deep in thought. It wasn’t too late to go back to the safety of my cabin, I knew, but the cricket song drew me. It filled me until I was part of it. Lost in it.

  “Hey.” I stood on a rock and looked down on him.

  “You came.” He turned at my voice. “I wasn’t sure you were going to.”