The Wrong Path

Chapter Ten





It had been a bad week.

Claire had ignored her for two days for talking to “losers,” she’d failed both of her tests, she barely saw Trevor because they had stepped up football training, and whenever she and Will saw each other in the hallway they glared at each other.

So even though she wanted to just curl up into a ball on her bed and lay there until she had to get up for school the next morning, on Thursday night she dutifully joined the other girls at Claudia’s house to get ready for the homecoming carnival. They were all wearing black and gold outfits—the school’s colors—and hers was made up of a black mini skirt, a gold tank top, and a black sweater. Claire wrote “09” in black and gold on her cheekbone, Trevor’s jersey number, and Erin had curled her ponytail and wrapped black and gold ribbons around it. The other girls were dressed in similar outfits, and around nine when the boys arrived they were finally ready to go.

She forced herself to laugh along with the others when the boys all failed at being able to ring the bell on the sledgehammer game, and tried to fake enthusiasm when she and Trevor shot water into clown’s mouths to make the balloons behind them explode. He won, and she received a tiny stuffed dog out of the deal.

She was starving, and jealous of all of the people walking around with corndogs and fries. Carnival food was the best tasting food, but even suggesting carnival fries would have earned herself a one-way ticket right out of their group. So instead she just held Trevor’s hand, miserably drinking her watery soda.

Everyone else seemed to be having so much fun it almost made her sick. Just thinking about how long it would be until she could lay down in bed and sleep made her even more exhausted. Why was she the only one who didn’t think Parker making derogatory, sexual comments at Erin was funny? Why was she the only one who didn’t think it was hilarious when Zach tripped into a garbage can and spilled his soda everywhere? Had she always been so boring?

No. It couldn’t be. She used to think her friends were fun. She was just tired. It had been a rough week, and it was catching up with her. As soon as she got a good night’s rest, she would be back to normal.

When Malcolm won a stuffed crocodile at the ring toss game and the girls all started begging for it, offering to trade a kiss for the toy, Annabelle had to excuse herself. She received several stares of disbelief as she headed to the bathroom alone—it was unheard of to go without at least two other girls—but she needed to get some air. She didn’t actually need to use the restroom, she was just exhausted trying to maintain appearances, and no one seemed to notice, or care.

“Annabelle!”

She turned at her name, grinning despite it all when she recognized Ebony. Her briefly uplifted mood quickly soured when she saw Will standing beside her. She frowned at him as their eyes met, meeting his glare head-on.

“Come here!” Ebony called, waving her over. “Will’s about to win me the really big duck.”

Reluctantly, Annabelle headed over, looking down at the large duck Ebony was holding. It was the milk bottle throw… None of the guys in her group had been able to knock down any of them, but apparently Will was faring better.

Annabelle watched as Will drew back the baseball, his eyes focused on the milk bottles, and then sent the ball flying forward, knocking all three down. She gaped at him in disbelief, even as Ebony let out a squeal of delight and handed over the large duck for an even larger duck, bigger around than she was.

“Now get something for Annabelle,” Ebony ordered.

“No, I don’t need anything,” Annabelle assured her quickly, forcing a smile. “Thanks, though.”

Ebony waved a hand at her. “Don’t be silly. Will, pay the man.”

Before Will could snap back something nasty, Annabelle broke in. “Really. Don’t bother. I need to get back, anyway. Trevor already got me something. He was just holding it for me while I went to the restroom.”

“Annabelle?”

She froze, her eyes falling shut. Of all people to find her here… Why did it have to be Claire? She turned slowly, forcing a smile, even more horrified to discover her entire group of friends behind her.

“Hi,” she greeted breathlessly, taking in the accusing looks on their faces. Only Trevor appeared confused. “Ebony was just showing me the stuffed animal Will won for her.” She turned to look up at Trevor. “Did you know your brother had such a good arm?”

He looked genuinely astonished, a disbelieving look on his face. “No,” he said, almost uncertainly, lifting his eyes from hers to look up at Will.

“Well, if you’re done, can we go? I want to ride some rides.” From her tone, Claire wasn’t just mad… she was furious. She eyed the game they stood in front of with a sneer. “All these things are rigged anyway… so it’s not really a testament of skill.”

Annabelle felt her slumped shoulders straighten at the insult to Will’s abilities. “I thought it took more skill when the games were rigged?” she offered airily, in a tone she didn’t even know she possessed. She knew it well—the other girls often used it when they wanted to disagree with each other without starting an argument—but she had never used it before. She had never felt the need to. But somehow, hearing the scorn in Claire’s voice about what Will had accomplished made her burn with anger.

Claire stared at her, but she returned the look with deliberately wide, innocent eyes. Claire suddenly laughed. “Who knows,” she agreed, stepping forward and linking her arm through Annabelle’s. “Let’s go, though. You have to sit with me on the Octopus. That thing scares me to death.”

Annabelle paused, looking back at Will and Ebony, who were staring at them. “I like it,” she said to Ebony, smiling apologetically, hoping that she would understand.

Ebony just stared back at her.

It was hard to finish out the carnival. Claire wouldn’t let go of her for the remainder of the night—literally. Even when Annabelle really did have to go to the bathroom, Claire went with her. Between trying to be a good girlfriend to Trevor, hiding how miserable she felt, and having Claire attached to her like a fly on flypaper, by the end of the night she was so frazzled all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep for the rest of the weekend.

The tap on her window scared her straight up out of bed. Wide-eyed, her adrenaline pumping, she pulled apart her curtains to reveal Will sitting on the tree limb outside her window, his face almost completely hidden in the shadows.

She quickly pushed the window open, her heart pounding. “Will?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“Ebony asked me to give you something,” he said softly, sliding into her room. She stepped back to allow him access.

“What?” she asked, bewildered. Couldn’t her skirt have waited until Monday instead of the dead of night, terrifying her half-to-death?

He reached back out through the window and emerged with a large blue duck. “This,” he said, handing it to her.

She took it slowly, stunned. “Her duck?” she asked softly. It was soft and plush, and so large she couldn’t hold it in both arms without squeezing it. She hugged it to herself, feeling tears in her eyes. She knew the gesture meant Ebony was saying everything was okay, but she slowly shook her head, holding it back out to him. “I-I can’t. You won it for her. I can’t take it.”

“No, I didn’t.” Will gently pushed it back at her. “She made me get you one, too.”

She was grateful for the darkness that covered the tears sliding down her cheeks as she hugged the duck to herself. It was large and silly, but it was one of the best presents she had ever received. “Will you tell her thank you for me?” she asked softly, her voice thick with tears in the silent night around them.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.” She trembled in the cold air and searched for her robe, but Will was already at the chair in the corner of her room, where she had placed his folded shirts. She watched in disbelief as he picked up the white one and unbuttoned it, bringing it back to her. She knew it was wrong, but she was glad she was wearing her pale pink satin tank top and matching shorts. The pajamas were very cute, even sexy, and as she set the duck down on the bed and allowed Will to bring the shirt around her, the air between them grew thick and warm.

He drew her slowly into his arms, but she almost sobbed as she leaned into him, holding him as tightly as she could. His embrace was warm, strong, and dependable, just like Will. It surrounded her, protecting her.

When had she come to depend on Will so much?

She didn’t know how long they stood there in each other’s arms, but if she could have, she would have fallen asleep without letting him go. All the bad things from the past week—all the catty fights, vicious rumors, constant pretending—just seemed to fade away when she was with him. Will let her be herself, and forgave her even when she was downright cruel to him. Wasn’t that really why he had come into her room? To make amends?

Slowly, he released her, and she forced herself to do the same, though she really just wanted to continue to cling to him. “I need to get in,” he said, nodding at his room. He offered a light smile. “My mom likes to check on me in the early morning hours to make sure I actually came home.”

She smiled, feeling better than she had all week. “Yeah,” she agreed. She watched as he easily slid out of her window and onto the branch, making his way back to his room. She knelt down in front of her window and called out, “Will?”

He paused with one foot in his window and looked back at her.

“Thank you.”

He flashed her a smile, and then he was in his room.