My insides seized up at the idea of making myself vulnerable in that way. She may as well have asked why I didn’t dance a naked jig for him on one of the tables. Sure, he might like it, but then again he might think I’m a desperate fool.
When McKale explained his clan’s feelings on the importance of gifts, he had really nailed how I felt about the bin. Giving him those presents was going to be like giving him a piece of myself. I wouldn’t force my gifts on him like the FFG had done to him tonight. And I couldn’t handle it if we weren’t both honored in full by the giving and receiving of each heartfelt item.
“I can’t,” I told her. “Not right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right. He doesn’t deserve it after kissing the enemy.”
“He can’t help it. She makes him lose his mind.”
“Then why are you mad at him?”
“I don’t know.” I was shaking. “I guess I just want him to be strong enough that she won’t affect him, but I know that’s not fair. I’ve never felt this… this…” I searched for the right word.
“Vulnerable? Threatened?”
“Yes…” But I was feeling so much more than those two words.
“What else?” she asked. She scratched my back and I tried to relax.
“I don’t know. I just, I’m starting to care about him, you know?”
“Are you scared he’s gonna break your heart?”
“Maybe. I mean, I don’t think he would on purpose, but if she keeps coming after him…”
We hadn’t even kissed, and seeing him touch another girl tonight, regardless of the circumstances, burned me up inside with hurt and jealousy. On top of that I was scared for my family. I felt powerless.
“Let’s just take it day by day, ‘kay?” Cass asked.
I almost grinned at her wisdom, but my face was not up for it. Instead I whispered, “Okay.”
I almost asked Cassidy what in the world she was doing out so late, but then decided I didn’t want to know. At least not tonight.
She hugged me, smelling like fresh mud and other stream life.
“You can have first dibs on the bathtub tomorrow, chickadee,” I told her.
“You sayin’ I stink?”
“To high Heaven.”
She stood up and dropped her shorts on the floor with mine then climbed into her bed with the smelly shirt still on.
“Oh well,” she said. “Night.”
She sounded a little sad, but she was probably just tired and worried about me. I wished her goodnight and blew out the flame.
That evening I dreamed the FFG was luring McKale into the portal. I was running through the high grass, trying to get to him, but my movements were slow. Too slow. He followed her in, and the portal hung open, gaping. The two of them stood in the black hole, like a set of jaws ready to devour. I could see him, falling to his knees at her service. I screamed his name over and over, but he would not look away from her. She, however, looked right at me. And smiled.
The next week was awful and the weather didn’t help. It rained almost every day.
Mornings were spent with Leilah and Rachelle doing chore duties. If it wasn’t raining too hard Cassidy joined us. I’d really gotten the hang of it all, and some of the older women now acknowledged me and spoke to me in the kitchens. One even made an apron my size.
My favorite job was collecting eggs early in the morning. It was neat to stick my hand into the beds of straw in the hen house, wondering if my fingers would encounter a smooth shell.
McKale and I hadn’t spoken. Not really. When my parents invited him to eat meals with us I greeted him and kept my face expressionless. I had to look at him, otherwise my parents would get suspicious, but the moment his eyes began to plead with mine, I looked away. I was torn between being wary of getting closer to him, and wishing he would seek me out and bare his soul. This inner turmoil made me grumpy.
My parents weren’t dumb, and they knew me too well. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hide my mood. They planned picnics and walks for us as a family, attempting to cheer me or make me talk. Even when it was raining.
On the fifth day while thick clouds hovered above, we had a picnic dinner in a small flowery glen. Dad began walking around and pointing out different plants and herbs. He kept breaking off leaves and rubbing them between his fingers for us to smell. The fragrances were strong, spicy, and sweet. He peeled open a root of one and walked over to where I sat on the damp blanket. When he held it under my nose, an image of McKale’s shy smile came to mind. I closed my eyes.
“Licorice root,” Dad said. “You chew on it to extract the flavor. It’s too tough to eat.” Using a knife to cut off the outer layer, he handed me the bit of root like a candy stick. So this was what McKale often nibbled. When Dad turned around I tossed the thing away.
“It’s wonderful in tea,” Mom said, stretching out next to me.
“How do you know all of this?” Cassidy asked Dad.
“McKale’s been teaching me.”
My head snapped up. “He has? When?”