Oh, really? I arched back, then curled in, repeated the actions again and again, until I had a nice swing going. He was stretched to full height, the best kind of target.
“What are you— Oomph!” He crouched over, wheezing.
I’d just head butted him in the gut. Satisfaction filled me as I said, “How about now?”
When he no longer sounded like an old man hooked to an oxygen tank, he moved directly in front of me, placing my forehead directly in front of his navel. Brave boy. To keep me still, he settled his hands on my waist. My bare waist, I realized with a flare of panic. My shirt had risen up, catching on the underwire of my bra.
“Stupid gravity!” Motions rushed, I reached up, clasped the hem and tugged.
“Settle down before you hurt my favorite body part. I’m really fond of my…gut.” He shooed my hands away, my shirt falling and once again catching on my bra. “Here. Let me.” He tucked the material in the waistband of my jeans. “Better?”
“Yes, now get me down from here! Who would do something like this, anyway?”
“I would,” he stated simply.
I tried to meet his gaze, but he was simply too high up. “You did this?”
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
“But why?”
“You tell me.”
Not that crap again. “Cole. Please. Act like you’ve never been to juvie and let me down.”
He sighed, and it was not a patient sound. “Ali has a mean streak. Good to know. And I told you. I’ll let you down—after we chat. So let’s chat. Did your dad ever talk to you about something weird?”
Dread slithered through me, wrapped around my heart and squeezed painfully. “Like what?”
“You. Tell. Me.”
Argh! “I do not know you. I do not trust you. Therefore, I will not talk to you about this.”
Another sigh slipped from him. “The answer is simple, then. You’ll get to know me. Are you going to the game? To Reeve’s party?”
Funny that I didn’t have to think this answer. “No to the game, but I’m considering making an appearance at the party.”
“Okay, let me rephrase. You’re going to the party. But are you going with anyone?”
“No.” Wait. Yes, I was. I was going with Kat, wasn’t I?
“Good. I’ll meet you there.”
My eyes widened to the point I feared they’d fall out of my head. He’d meet me there…for a date?
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not a date. You don’t like to share your story with people you don’t know, and I don’t like to date girls I don’t know.”
Great. I hadn’t meant to, hadn’t realized I’d done it, but I’d asked the date-thing aloud. “We’re on the same page, then,” I said in an effort to recover. “But just to be clear, we’ll be spending time together, chatting about something other than the tracks and weirdness?” With our peers as witnesses, I realized with a groan.
“Yes. You got a problem with that?”
A big one. But I said, “Fine. I’ll do it if you insist, but only because I think we need to continue this conversation. Like, say, on a day when you’re feeling more cooperative. So will you let me down now? I’m about to be sick.”
“You are not. But if you’ll answer one more question, I’ll give you what you want.”
Stupid rope, forcing my hand. “Ask.”
“Does anything unusual happen to you each morning, when you first look at me? Something that doesn’t happen at any other time, just morning, the first time you see me.”
He couldn’t know. He just couldn’t…unless he, too, experienced something. He’d hinted before, but I’d assumed he meant something else. Oh, please, please, please, be the visions.
“Wh-what makes you ask that?”
“Does it?” he insisted.
“Yes.” I’d give him that much. “Wh-what about you?” Seriously, I had to stop with the stuttering. It was beyond humiliating!
“Yes.”
An agreement. So much more than I’d expected. “What do you see?” I whispered as eagerness consumed me. I had to know.
“I’ll tell you, but not here and not now. Write down what you see, and I’ll do the same. After school, we’ll exchange notes. That way, neither of us can claim the other is lying. And if you hand me a blank note, I’ll make you regret it.”
“Scary,” I said with mock-mock fear. He was scary. “But the same goes for you.”
“Good.”
Now that that was settled… “We’re going back to school? You’ll let me down?”
“I told you I would, didn’t I?” He bent down and pulled a small— Oh, dear heaven, I was about to be murdered. He was now holding a crossbow.
His arm extended, and he aimed the weapon at the top of the rope. His finger tapped the trigger. I screamed with blood-curdling force, only to tumble toward the ground when the arrow severed the rope rather than my foot.