against it.
“I looked in too,” she said. “I didn’t really like anyone I saw.”
“Yeah,” Jonathan said. Even though he’d seen Emma, he knew what Kirsty meant.
Kirsty stood, the shadow on her face growing longer as her slight body eclipsed the purple tubes of the neon ice-cream cone. Her beige coat fell neatly on either side of her body, and she brushed the fabric with her hands, smoothing it further. She took a step toward Jonathan and paused. Kirsty looked over her shoulder, into the ice- cream shop, then down the long walk beside it.
Jonathan stepped forward to cover the distance between them.
“Hey,” he said, as if they’d just walked into each other a second ago.
“Hi,” Kirsty said, smiling and quickly looking away.
Something about her face seemed different tonight, Jonathan thought. Maybe it was the light or lack of it, but her features seemed more finished, seemed almost pretty, something he never would have thought when he saw her in daylight.
“What’s up?” he asked, the chill now centered in his stomach. He wasn’t used to talking to girls, and it had to be totally obvious to Kirsty. Knowing this only made him more nervous.
“Just out for a walk.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“My mom’s on one of her let’s-spend-every-minute-together kicks,” Kirsty said. “I couldn’t deal, so I bailed.”
Jonathan had no idea what it must be like to have a parent insist on spending time with him, but he laughed and nodded his head. “Parents are a pain.”
“Total water torture,” Kirsty replied. “Every word another drop on my forehead.”
They stood quietly for a moment. Jonathan didn’t know what else to say to the girl. He was full-on nervous, and the chilled anxiety in his stomach was making him uncomfortable. Maybe he should just say good-bye.
“It’s strange so many people are out,” Kirsty said.
“Strange?” he asked, grateful she’d broken the silence.
“After Mr. Weaver. I figured most people would stay home for a while.”
“I didn’t even think about that. You don’t seem too worried. I mean,
“I shouldn’t be,” she said. “But since Dad left, Mom’s been really needy. I figured once we moved, she’d lighten up, but that didn’t really happen.”
“Sorry to hear about your dad,” Jonathan said. The words felt awkward on his tongue. He didn’t know Kirsty at all, so his condolence felt insincere. Fortunately she didn’t seem to notice.
“Thanks,” Kirsty said. “That’s nice of you.”
“When did he leave?”
“About a year ago. A lot of drama.”
“That blows. Do you still see him?”
Kirsty didn’t answer immediately. She looked up at the ceiling covering the walkway, stared at it as if searching for the answer there. “Not much,” she said, finally. “Like I said, a lot of drama.”
Another uncomfortable silence fell over them. Jonathan was about to say “that blows” again, but knew it would sound lame. Instead, he decided to change the subject because it didn’t seem like either of them wanted to discuss Kirsty’s father any more.
“How do you like it here?” he asked.
Kirsty’s response surprised him because she didn’t answer his question. Instead, she said, “Do you want to walk? I’m getting kind of cold just standing here.”
“I guess,” Jonathan said. “Where do you want to go?”
“Would you mind walking me home?” Kirsty said. “It’s not far.”
“Sure,” Jonathan said. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
Kirsty lived in the Briar Gate development, which was half a mile down Horace Road, the street running parallel to Crossroads Boulevard on the other side of the mall. As they walked, Jonathan found himself unable to relax around Kirsty. Yeah, she was nice, and she was even kind of interesting, but she also seemed distant, sort of cold. Jonathan understood. It wasn’t exactly like he was Mr. Personality tonight either. They were simply two school outcasts who bumped into each other and decided to take a walk.
“So, do you miss your friends?”
“Didn’t really have friends,” Kirsty said. “My dad scared people off. He’d get up in their faces and drill them like an army sergeant. He was totally paranoid. It freaked people out. I learned pretty young to keep other kids away from the house. And since he was really strict, I didn’t get to spend much time away from home, except to go to school and…”
“And?” Jonathan asked.
“Church,” Kirsty whispered, as if embarrassed. “My folks were both hyper about the church back in Spokane. My mom has totally lightened up about it now, but…Ugh! It sucked. What about you?”
“We don’t go to church,” he said. In fact, he’d probably only been in a church five or six times in his entire life. He attended two Sunday-school classes when he was like six years old, and after that it was just weddings.
“What about friends? I don’t see you hanging out with anyone at school.”
“My best friend…”
Jeez, what would David say if he found out he was walking Kirsty home? David had played it totally cool at the bookstore, like he was just goofing about Kirsty, but what if he really liked her? Would he be pissed or something?
“Was he the guy I saw you with on Saturday?” Kirsty asked.
“I didn’t think you even noticed us. But yeah, that’s David.”
“Have you guys been friends a long time?”
“About three years,” Jonathan said. “This is the longest my family has lived anywhere, so it seems like a long time, but I guess it’s not.”
Kirsty didn’t reply. Instead, she looked upward, just like she did at the mall. She kept walking, her eyes directed at the sky.
Again Jonathan noticed she looked almost pretty, her face bathed in night, certainly not the eight David suggested but a good, solid seven. And again he noticed the odd feeling that came to him when he looked at her. It was almost like he had forgotten something but was on the verge of remembering it, a kind of vague recognition.
A gust of wind startled him out of his reverie, and he returned his attention to the sidewalk.
“What are you looking at?” he asked, because the silence was getting to him. It was a stupid question, but he had to say something.
Kirsty lowered her chin and turned to face him. She wore a shy smile. “I’m just looking at the night,” she said quietly.
“Oh, okay.”
At Kirsty’s house, a two-story brick place with big windows in front, they paused on the sidewalk.
“Thanks for walking me home,” Kirsty said, sticking out her hand.
Jonathan was relieved to see the gesture. For a couple of heart-stopping seconds, he’d wondered if Kirsty considered this chance meeting a kind of date, wondered if she might expect a kiss or something. He knew that was just his imagination going into hyperdrive during the quiet stretches of their walk, but still, he felt relief knowing nothing was expected of him but a quick joining of the hands.
He took her hand, squeezed lightly, and a shock, like static electricity, crackled along his palm.
Kirsty jumped a little and laughed again. “Magic,” she said with a smile.
“Yeah,” Jonathan replied, feeling more uncomfortable than he had all night.
“So, you want to get together again sometime?” Kirsty asked. “For just like coffee or something. Not a date, I mean. It’s just good to talk to somebody my own age.”
“Sure,” Jonathan said, though what he was thinking came closer to
