release of blood or food, in the place of emotions that were too strong or awful or dirty to be dealt with.
Carly understood the other girls, and commiserated with them.
She did feel bad about deceiving her dad. In group, the counselors droned on and on about honesty and open lines of communication, until the refrain repeated in her head like a drill.
But hadn’t he let her down a thousand times?
Fuck group, she decided viciously, willing her hand to let the blade descend upon her flesh. Every time she went to therapy and hung with those losers, it got harder to make the first cut, and after she came down from the high it gave her, she felt twice as guilty.
“Don’t do it.” The low voice came from the rocky outcrop above her.
Carly let out a strangled squeak, almost slashing herself accidentally as she jumped. With horror, she realized that the voice was male, so she dropped the blade into the sand and brought her shirt up to cover her chest.
When he leaned forward, out of the shadows and into the moonlight, she took an unsteady breath. He was just a boy, her age, and therefore unthreatening.
“It’s none of my business, of course, but it seems a shame to put scars on such beautiful skin.” He leapt off the rock he was crouched on and dropped down to sit beside her.
Clutching her shirt to her chest, she began to scoot backward, reassessing him as a possible menace. She was tall, but he was taller, certainly heavier, and he moved quick. Plus, he’d been skulking around in the dark, watching her.
He plucked the razor from the sand and held it up to catch the meager light, showing her his intentions before he stashed it. “As a man, I’d say a mark or two doesn’t hurt. But I’ve never known a woman who wanted to ugly herself up. Especially at such a pretty place.”
In spite of herself, she smiled. He was probably just a smooth-talking juvenile delinquent, but she liked being thought of as a woman. “You’re not a man,” she said.
“Sure I am. Enough so that I was enjoying the peep show.”
“Then why’d you stop me?”
“And let you mar perfection? Not a chance.”
“I’ve done it before,” she bragged, flattered by his compliments.
“I know. I’ve seen you.”
Carly was disconcerted by the idea of being watched in a private moment. “My dad’s going to kick your ass when I tell him you’ve been spying on me.”
He eyed her shrewdly, or perhaps he was only trying to get another glimpse of what was under her shirt. “Go ahead and tell him,” he said, calling her bluff. “I’ve got your razor blade, and I’ll bet you have some old marks, scabs and stuff, under that lacy little scrap you call a bra. Yeah, bring him out here. I’d like to talk to him about what you’ve been doing.”
“You’re a freak,” she said shrilly, worried now.
Carly was just about to run when the clouds shifted and a fortuitous ray of moonlight struck his face. She couldn’t discern the exact color of his eyes or hair, although she assumed both were dark, but could make out his well-arranged features, and they were familiar.
“I know you,” she said. “I remember you from junior high. You were a year ahead of me. What’s your name?”
“James.”
“James what?”
“James Matthews.”
Despite the tension, or perhaps because of it, she laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your name. It’s like two first names.”
“Okay,
She felt a flutter in her belly, like the tension she sometimes got before a big test. “You remember me?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’ve you been? I mean, I haven’t seen you at Shores.”
“You go there?”
She rolled her eyes, nodding. “It sucks.”
“I thought you went to private school, rich girl.”
“No,” she said glumly, letting the slight pass. “Dad’s into social justice.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know. Where do you go?”
“Nowhere. I have homeschool.”
Her heart made a funny little twist. Only religious wackos and lowlife dropouts had homeschooling. “How is it?”
“Sucks.”
They understood each other perfectly, for a moment, before a strange glint in his eyes made her remember that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. James was cute, dangerous, and a little scary. It was an appealing combination, but she wasn’t ready for what his eyes said she’d get if she lingered here. “I’ve gotta jet.” She stood, careful to keep her shirt from slipping.
He jerked his chin up in a gesture boys used as
She looked over her shoulder, aware that the pose was provocative, considering her mostly naked back. “Why not?”
“This is my place.”
Carly started to argue, then rephrased the negative comment into a question, like they’d taught her in group. “What do you do here? Besides peep at girls?”
His eyes licked down her back then went far away, across the ocean. “Same thing you do. I hide.”
Ben heard Carly come in through the back door, but he didn’t go downstairs to confront her. Instead he waited, listening for the sound of her footsteps, his pulse pounding with adrenaline. All of the fear and anxiety he’d experienced over the past few frantic moments upon finding her bed empty, transformed into rage.
She tiptoed up the stairs, making very little noise, for she’d had the foresight to remove her shoes in the hallway. Once inside the safety of her own room, she let out a deep breath and pulled the door closed behind her.
He reached out to click on her bedside lamp.
She blinked at the sudden light, her eyes huge with guilt and wide with surprise.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked. His voice was clipped, his enunciation carefully controlled.
She moistened her lips, eyes darting around the room.
“Don’t lie,” he warned, forcing himself to remain seated. He’d never hit her, never even spanked her as a child, but he was mad enough to make up for that oversight right now.
“I was with my boyfriend,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance. “What’s the big deal?”
He searched her face for signs of deception. Carly was a poor liar, despite having plenty of practice, but he couldn’t always tell. “Summer told me you didn’t have a boyfriend.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “What does she know? You guys, like, discussed me?”
“What’s his name, then?”
“James Matthews.”
“You made that up.”
“Did not.”
Ben believed her, and it did nothing to assuage his anger. He hated the idea of some teenaged dirtbag taking advantage of his daughter’s precarious emotional state. The last thing she needed right now was more turmoil.
