eight

The pavement flew beneath us. We were going faster than the cars, zipping in and out of lanes. It was just me and Pippa and the bike. All the pines on the side of the road smushed together like backgrounds in cartoons.

As we picked up speed, my T-shirt flapped against my skin. I was freaking out. Not gonna lie. When I gunned the engine, my pulse jumped. No going back now. Pippa wrapped her arms around the space above my jeans and squeezed.

We were totally in the open. No protection if we wiped out. The bike rumbled under me like it might burst into flames. That would be cool, but not exactly convenient.

We rode to Everglades National Park and rolled straight through the entrance. Just waved as we passed the ranger station. The guy inside waved back. I kept cruising down this wide, curvy path. There was nobody around except for a lonely backpacker marching into the swamp.

“This is the perfect place for my zombie movie,” Pippa screamed into the wind.

“The army used to hide missiles out here,” I told her.

She wasn’t really listening. That’s when I pulled off the road.

Pippa squeezed tighter. “We’re stopping?”

I glanced at the sky. Vultures circled like punctuation marks. I remembered what I’d told Pippa. They defended themselves by vomiting. Nature was so weird.

“Don’t you want to check it out?” I asked.

“Check what out?”

“The abandoned missile base.”

“Okay.” I could tell she was trying to hold it together. “Are there any snakes around?”

“Burmese pythons, mostly.”

She shuddered. “Lots of them?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know. Even the park rangers lost count. That’s because stupid people buy them as pets. When the python grows to be, like, twelve feet long, they throw them away. Kind of messed up. I mean, it’s not the snake’s fault … ”

I swung my leg over the bike. Pippa almost fell, but I helped her down like a true gentleman.

“Watch out for the tailpipe,” I said, grabbing a backpack from under the seat. “The metal gets so hot, you could torch the skin off your leg. That’s what happened to my dad. Third-degree burns. He’s got a scar and everything.”

The stripes in the pavement were so faded, I wondered how long ago anybody had driven over them. We walked to a fence snarled with barbed wire. Behind it, a sign said: U.S. ARMY RESTRICTED AREA. USE OF DEADLY FORCE IS AUTHORIZED.

“This is crazy.” Pippa was talking so fast, it sounded like she was on crack. “Oh my god. I can’t believe we’re doing this. Are you sure we won’t get caught?”

I was already climbing the fence. I tossed my jacket over the barbed wire so Pippa wouldn’t get cut. She hauled herself over like it was nothing. It took me a couple tries just to dig my sneakers into the links without slipping.

Once I reached the top, I was super proud of myself. No joke.

Getting down was another thing.

“Now what?” I shouted.

“Just move fast and don’t think.”

“I’m not very good at that.”

“Which one? Moving fast? Or thinking?”

“Both. There’s a certain part of my anatomy that … um …
I don’t want to mess up.” Did I just say that out loud?

I managed to scramble over the barbed wire. Once I was halfway down the other side, I jumped and hit the ground so hard a jolt of pain blasted through my knees.

“Nice,” Pippa said. “Are you just going to leave the bike there?”

“Oh, right. The swamp apes might steal it. Quit your bitching. Nobody’s gonna find it.”

The road curved toward a building in the distance. The missile base was just a row of cement blocks, like the ones we used to stack in the backyard, pretending we were Storm Troopers defending the Death Star. This thing was for real, though it was all boarded up with plywood and the bolts in the DANGER sign had rusted.

A burnt-looking tree was the only semi-living thing in sight. Pippa took a composition book out of her bag. She sat down, right there on the grass, and started writing. It was kind of geeky and adorable at the same time.

“Taking notes?” I asked.

“For my zombie screenplay. I want to remember what this place looks like. It’s kind of epic.”

“I used to write stuff down,” I told her. “Song lyrics, mostly. But my mom tossed all my old notebooks.”

“That’s so evil.”

I shrugged. “Evil is too kind a word.”

“You should keep writing.”

“True. I’ve been working on new lyrics. Nothing major. Just getting some random ideas. Music is my ultimate release. It’s like a VIP screening in my brain.”

“A song is like a movie, too.”

“How so?”

“It’s there. You’re in the moment. Then it’s gone.”

Nobody had ever talked about stuff like that with me. I wanted to keep talking to Pippa … tell her about the music and the words that kept me awake at night.

“Sometimes I think I’ve found the perfect melody,” I explained, “and after playing it for a while, it doesn’t feel right anymore. Or it maybe sounded better in my head. Or I’m just not good enough to play it.”

“I know what you mean,” Pippa said. “When I listen to an awesome song on the radio, it feels like the band is singing with me.”

“My ex-girlfriend, Michelle, always made fun of my songs. Actually, she thought they were all about her.”

What the hell was I saying? This was the perfect time to shut up. Any rational person would’ve stopped talking. Did I?

Of course not.

“Can I tell you something personal?” I asked.

“Sure,” Pippa said, staring up at the trees.

“Michelle was my first. I mean, you’ll always remember your first, right?”

“Yeah. I guess.” She shoved the notebook in her bag. “Unless you were unconscious or something.”

I stared.

“Sorry. I was trying to be funny,” she said.

“Thanks. That really helps.”

“I mean, I know what you’re going through.”

“You do?”

She hugged me. When she started to pull away, I didn’t let go. Pippa was looking at me so intensely I forgot to breathe. We kissed right there on the abandoned road, a place where men had built missiles and planned wars, and now, hardly anybody remembered. She was breathing into me, daring me to feel something.

Still, I held back.

She must’ve noticed. Yeah, I’m sure she did. God. Why couldn’t I be normal for once? I was overanalyzing the situation as usual, thinking about something my crazy cousin, Marco, had told me in back sixth grade: kissing seals the deal. Of course, I hadn’t made out with anybody then. Not unless you count Pippa, who’d tried to “practice” on me during a marathon of Ninja Turtles.

Now we were kissing for real.

Shit.

I had officially lost it. Why was I thinking about anything at a time like this? I needed to focus. Here I was, alone with this girl who had somehow changed into this mega hottie, and I couldn’t even kiss it away.

Pippa tilted her chin down, closing me off. She must’ve sensed that I was someplace else.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

I stroked the small of her back, tracing circles there. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Only when you do that.”

“I’ll stop, if you want.”

“Don’t. I mean … I don’t want you to stop.”

My hands slid inside her shirt. I kept mumbling stuff like, “You’re so damn pretty.” She told me to keep going. It seemed like the right thing to say. I wanted to feel good, too; but all I felt was confused. And to make things more confusing, I didn’t know why.

On the side of the building, somebody had painted a rocket with the words U.S. ARMY printed in capital letters. Under it floated some modern day graffiti. YUCK, it said, beside a frowny face with a mouthful of fangs.

Pippa pushed my hands off her. Shoved me, actually. “Do you always kiss with your eyes open?”

“Huh?” I was still looking at the rocket.

“Just be real. Seriously. I can take a hint. If this is too weird—”

“It’s not like that. I mean, shit. I’m sorry.”

What was I sorry for? It seemed like I was always apologizing.

Pippa smoothed her hair into place, tucking a few strands behind her ears. “Let’s just go, okay?”

“Wait. I want to show you something.”

She was halfway to the fence. In other words, back to where we started. “I’ve seen enough.”

“God, you’re so judgmental. It’s like you’re trying to make yourself mysterious.”

“That makes no sense, Trent. How can I ‘make myself mysterious’? It’s not like I’m pretending to be somebody different. Unlike other people I know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Now I was getting pissed.

“This is so wrong.” She grabbed a tissue from her bag and mashed it against her face.

“Talk to me for one second. Please.”

“You’re just using me to get over your ex,” Pippa said.

“That’s totally not true. Don’t even play that.” I reached out for her, but she jerked away as if I were Kryptonite. “You’re being really dramatic over nothing.”

Great. Now she was full-on crying and, of course, it was my fault. I stood there thinking how cute she looked. I wanted to kiss her spiky eyelashes. Hold her until she stopped shaking.

“Can we go back now?” Pippa sniffed.

“Not until you see the best part,” I said, stomping off toward a garage-type building just a few yards ahead. On the ground, you could see wing-shaped dents, as if something heavy had dragged across it a long time ago. So this was the abandoned missile base.

“There’s a door,” I said.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

I jammed my pocketknife into the lock, gave the knob a few twists. Just like magic, it swung open.

“If you think I’m going in there, you’re insane,” Pippa said.

“Suit yourself.” I dipped inside, leaving her alone with the shriveled trees and the vultures swaying on the horizon.

After a few minutes, Pippa couldn’t stand it anymore. She poked her head through the door, blinking against the dimness. It smelled like rusted metal and old things, like air that hadn’t been breathed.

“Trent? If this is your idea of a joke, I’m sure as hell not laughing.”

I turned on my flashlight. A halo bounced on the wall. I flicked it on and off like a strobe effect. “Wooo. It’s a rave party.”

“Stop it,” she said. “You’re giving me a migraine.”

We were in some kind of military hanger. Orange paint flaked off the walls, peeling like a bad sunburn. The ceiling was crisscrossed with aluminum pipes and dangling lamps.

As we staggered forward, I bumped into a traffic cone. I crushed it under my sneaker. The cone fell sideways in front of us. “Get up,” I shouted at it. “You can do it. Don’t lose hope now.”

Pippa was edging toward the door. I turned the flashlight off, leaving us in a blackness so heavy it was almost solid. For a second, I couldn’t catch my breath. The dark had knocked it out of me.

“I can see you smiling.” I grabbed her waist.

“If you don’t let go in two seconds … ”

I clicked the flashlight on. We both stared at the wall, where a poster of the Statue of Liberty stared back. Her lower half had peeled off, leaving curls of masking tape.

“Don’t worry, girl.” I tightened my hold around her waist. “You’re safe with me.”

Pippa jabbed her elbow into my ribs.

I grunted and finally dropped her. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because you’re being a jerk.”

I stood there, rubbing my chest, as if she had inflicted real damage. “We should probably jet. Unless you want to get lung cancer from the asbestos.”

“Right,” she said, heading straight for the door. Beside the handle was a sign chiseled with faded warnings: IN CASE OF ELECTRIC SHOCK, USE WOODEN POLE OR ROPE TO REMOVE VICTIM.

“Wrong way.” I jabbed my thumb in the other direction.

Pippa followed me into the sunlight. I was still thinking about that kiss. This wasn’t just any random girl. If I messed up with Pippa, I’d be losing a lot more. Was it worth crossing out of the friend zone? At that moment, I couldn’t decide.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

We listened.

I heard two things: the blood punching into my fingertips and the beat of my sneakers as they sliced through the grass.

“Um. Not really,” I said. “Did you take your anti-zombie meds today?”

“Right on schedule.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Great. Just what I needed to know.”

“Well, you’re acting like a complete psycho. Can we go now?”

“Wait up.” I thrust an arm in front of her. “Swear to God, I just heard this crazy noise.”

“Like what exactly?”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you.”

“Well, that really makes me feel better.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I’ve got it all under control. You know. Making the magic happen.” I tossed my backpack on the ground and felt around inside. My fingers brushed against metal. The handle almost felt like a toy, but it was real.

“Where did you get that thing?” Pippa asked. “Did you think we’d be gang-banging in the Everglades? Even rappers couldn’t get away with that crap.”

“It’s my dad’s. When I turn twenty-one, I’m getting it registered in my name.” I wrapped it in a sweatshirt.

“Please explain why you’re carrying a loaded weapon in your backpack.”

“It’s not loaded.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Want me to show you?”

She shook her head. “I’ll pass.”

We walked to the fence, where my army jacket slumped like a dead body. Almost an hour ago, we’d been having fun. Now this entire day had gone to hell.

I crammed my foot in the chain-link and pulled myself over. Pippa took her sweet time, but she made it down first. I was at the top of the fence, trying to yank my jacket from the barbed wire, but it was stuck. I kept tugging until it ripped free.

“That didn’t sound good,” Pippa said. “Is there a merit badge for sewing? Or maybe you could borrow my Hello Kitty stapler.”

“Shut up.” I threw the shredded jacket toward the weeds. It cartwheeled in mid-air and landed with a flop. The more I tried not to laugh, the worse it got. Then we both cracked up.

“You’re so evil,” I said.

Pippa smiled. “I try.”

Near the road, a couple of egrets swooped and took off, flapping without a sound. No sign of the Kawasaki.

“It’s gotta be somewhere,” I muttered.

We pushed back the sawgrass. The jagged leaves stung like a paper cut. I kept looking, though we both knew what I didn’t say out loud. The bike was gone.

After what seemed like forever, I finally gave up. I grabbed a rock and pitched it at a stump. “My dad’s gonna rip me a new one.”

“Let’s ask the ranger at the front entrance,” Pippa said.

I scanned the horizon, half-expecting the vultures to lift us into the sky. “That’s seven miles from here. We’re basically screwed. In a couple hours, this place will be so dark even a flashlight won’t help.”

“Are you serious? What are we supposed to do now?”

“Start walking.”

We headed back. Pippa had dragged the camera around all afternoon, yet we’d hardly shot any footage for the so-called Life Portrait documentary. I slid the bag off her shoulder and lifted the camera from its plastic case.

“At least get a light reading first,” Pippa muttered.

“It’s okay,” I said, though I knew she was right. I aimed the lens at her face. The sun was streaming in geometric angles behind her. She was sunburned and sweaty and so amazingly beautiful.

“The focus is off,” she said. “You didn’t even measure it.”

“You’re no fun.”

“What am I? The entertainment committee?”

“Not even close.”

“You’re no wilderness man, either. That’s pretty obvious. Bet you couldn’t even start a fire with a dead twig.”

“Out here? Number one, it’s too damp. Number two, I’d have the whole tribe on my ass. They’ve got their own police force and everything.”

“So whose side are you on?” she asked.

I lowered my head. I wanted to scream at her, throw stuff, go crazy. Instead, we both stayed quiet. That was the worst part.

Finally, I let her have it. “What a shitty thing to say, Pippa.”

“I’m sorry. God. I didn’t … I mean, it didn’t come out right. That was so wrong. I wasn’t trying to put you down.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s not what it sounded like.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe I should just staple my mouth shut.”

“For the record, I’m not about choosing sides.”

“I know.” Pippa stared at the ground. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Okay.” Here it comes.

“I see two people in front of me,” she said, “and I don’t know which is real. When we started hanging out again, I thought you were really cool. I mean, you didn’t judge me or anything. Now it feels like you’ve changed. Like you’re afraid of getting close to people. Or you think you’re not good enough.”

“It sucks that you see me like that.”

“True. But guess what? You’re more than good enough,” she said, and for a moment, I almost believed it.