59. Surprises

It’s a nice dream, and I manage to let myself fall into it with Kelsey at my side.

This normal, average suburban house. Let’s say it’s far away from Solitary and these surrounding mountains.

This soft and comfortable couch that snugly fits two, especially when they’re curled around each other.

The quiet February night, with the chill kept outside and the warmth bundled up underneath a blanket in the family room.

The glow of the television and the hum of the program.

The privacy and the tranquility and the fantasy that finds the two of us next to each other, holding one another, then kissing each other.

I’m wide awake in Kelsey’s family room, but I’m in a dream. I’m in another life, and I’m finally not running for mine. I’m warm and relaxed, and all I can think about is this wonderful girl next to me.

The longer time ticks by and the later it gets, the more I lose myself.

Until Kelsey seems to wake me up.

“You better go,” she says in her gentle, sweet voice.

I haven’t overstepped any boundaries. But I’ve made it clear that I don’t want to go, that I don’t want to move.

“Okay,” I say, then kiss her again.

“I don’t like you driving this late at night.”

“Soon I’ll have my license.”

“I still don’t like you riding that motorcycle without a helmet.”

“I know. I’ll get one. I promise.”

I kiss her again.

The dream is being here by ourselves, owning this house and this life. Worrying about the kids upstairs and the bills to pay instead of the demons at the front door.

I’d like to say I can imagine it, but I really can’t.

I can’t imagine Kelsey being there, or anybody really. I can’t imagine anyone having the patience and the courage to stand by me and actually marry me with all my wonderful problems circling in around me.

Better not tell her that.

I know. I’m seventeen and a senior and shouldn’t be thinking stuff like that. But I’m no ordinary seventeen-year-old senior, so give me a break.

Someone give me a break.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

We’re so close, talking so soft.

I don’t want this moment to end.

“I meant to ask you—did you put that thing in my room?”

I brush a strand of hair back from her face. “What thing?”

It’s hard to pay attention.

“It’s like some flat stone. The size of my hand.”

Suddenly cold water douses me. The blanket is torn off us and lights blare in our eyes and sirens sound and my heart isn’t just racing but exploding.

No.

Of course that doesn’t really happen except in my stiffening body. I stare at her.

“When’d you find it?”

“Earlier this evening after we had pizza. Did you put it there?”

No I didn’t the boogeyman did and do you know what this means now do you?

“Yeah,” I lie.

“Where’d you find something so smooth?”

“Just up the road by the creek. Thought you might like it.”

I’m trying not to overreact or overthink or overdo anything. I smile and kiss her again, but it’s different. Kelsey can tell.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just—probably should go.”

I gently move my arm from underneath her and then sit up. She’s so cute in her pink sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. I had told her to get more comfortable, and she said she didn’t want to be a bum around me. But seeing her like that made me find her even more adorable, if that was possible.

But that mood has evaporated. As warm and cozy as it might be in here, it’s still cold and dark outside.

I don’t want to say anything more about that rock.

At least not to Kelsey.

When we get to the door, I give her a long hug that brings about another long kiss.

This time, I’m the one who moves away.

“I had a great time tonight.”

“Chris,” Kelsey says, that dreamy look in her eyes that says it all, “I just want you to know—”

But I move my hand and softly put it on her lips before she can complete her sentence.

“Don’t.”

“What?” Kelsey asks.

“Not now. Not tonight.”

I don’t want something big happening when something awful has already occurred.

“But what—”

“I want you to save those thoughts.”

“For when?”

“For—for another night. For a special night.”

“Tonight was special.”

I nod. “I’ve got something planned.”

“Like what?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She smiles.

I kiss her on the cheek and then tell her good night.

Outside in the cold, as I start the motorcycle and look around to see if anybody is nearby, I think about that rock.

Surprises around here are usually terrifying.

But I’m going to break that trend.

And I’m going to make sure that the people who gave Kelsey that rock know that it doesn’t belong to her.

It belongs to me. And if they want to do anything with it, they’ll have to do it through me.