Rock and a Hard Place

chapter 3

A few days later Libby sat on a giant outcropping of rock that reached out over the rushing creek. The warm September breeze blew gently through the trees and swept a leaf into the water below.

Her eyes folowed its progress. As it floated along, she pondered the events of the past week. Miss Orman had tried to cheer her up after Libby couldn’t support her story about Peter. It al seemed unreal. If she hadn’t experienced it herself, she wouldn’t believe it either. Famous people didn’t just appear out of nowhere, especialy not in Rockvile.

But Peter had appeared. And she did spend time with him.

He was beautiful and perfect and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. The best part was that he didn’t know about her life or that she lived with crazy Aunt Marge. Peter didn’t know that her dad’s grief was so strong, he brought Libby to Wisconsin and left her to live at his sister-in-law’s house before driving off into the depths of depression.

The sound of wind rushing through the trees increased. It sounded like the roar of the nearby highway. Libby lay on the large stone slab, her back warmed by the sun-heated rock. She gazed at the movement of the tree branches overhead as they bent and swayed in the wind. The leaves were a patchwork of green, yelow and orange. Fal was near and creating a beautiful scene. She wished she had a camera to capture it, or the talent to paint it. The breeze whispered on her cheek, the sun warmed her skin. Her thoughts returned to Peter and how wonderful her life would be if he were in it.

A shadow moved over her and blocked the sun. She jerked onto her elbows to discover the intrusion. People rarely came to this part of the preserve.

“Are you cutting class?” Peter stood before her, a broad smile on his face and the familiar hair faling in his eyes.

“Oh my God.” Libby popped up from her spot. “What are you doing here?”

She never thought she’d see him again. Hoped, yes, but not in her wildest dreams did she believe it could happen. She stared, her mouth agape. Was he real? Perhaps she’d lost her mind after al.

His t-shirt hugged him snug across the chest and shoulders, revealing strong arms. His jeans hung low, his thumbs looped in the top of his pockets. She looked at his handsome face. His eyes sparkled with mischief as the breeze tossed his hair.

“Mom realy likes this spot, and now, so do I.” He grinned and a gorgeous dimple appeared. “We’re heading up to Minneapolis for some taping.”

“Guess it’s my lucky day,” she bubbled.

“Guess so.” With a devilish grin, he raised an eyebrow.

Imaginary gymnasts did flips in her stomach. She thought Peter would be a distant memory, like so many others she stashed safely away. Now here he stood, in the flesh. He couldn’t be more real.

“How much time have you got? She wiped her dusty hands on the back of her jeans then slid them into her back pockets. She stood a few feet away, hopeful he would stay forever. She wasn’t sure what to do.

“As long as we want,” Peter answered.

Her face beamed.

“Wel, an hour, at the most,” he corrected, another cute smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“We better not waste time then.” They faced each other, a momentary pause and an instant of awkwardness. Libby refused to let this opportunity fail. She broke the silence. “Have you seen the rock formations at the back of the glen?”

“No, but I’d love to.”

His smile touched her heart.

“It’s this way.” She tilted her head toward the trail, and fought the urge to squeal with joy.

They folowed the trail through the rocky ravine, the wals progressively greener with rich moss. Every so often water trickled down the sides, flowing into the stream they walked along. Peter moved next to her in al his glorious beauty. She tried not to look at him too often.

“You never answered my question,” Peter said, stepping over a sharp rock.

“What was that?” Libby glanced up.

“Are you cutting school? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and where I come from we go to school on Wednesdays.”

“No, it’s teacher in-service. We get a Wednesday afternoon off once a month, so the teachers can meet and talk about how horrible today’s youth is.” That’s about al they did too, lots of talking and not much action.

“You must be at the top of their list.” He grinned, and held his hand out to help her over the large rocks.

“You have no idea.” She placed her hand in his, reveling at his warmth in the cool ravine.

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as they made their way along the crooked path. Occasionaly, he bumped her shoulder playfuly with his, as if he wanted to make sure she was stil there.

Something about him fit. He didn’t ask too many questions or judge the things she told him. It had been a long time since someone accepted her.

“Tel me again, why your family comes here?” She wanted him to say it was so he could see her and then promise they would be here every day.

“They like this spot. It’s close to the interstate and we pass this way a lot when we’re traveling between Chicago and Minneapolis. Mom is always trying to make us feel normal and keep us grounded.” Peter jumped easily from one boulder to another, as though he’d climbed them his entire life.

“But you are normal.”

“Are you kidding? We’re far from it.” He gave her a look of disbelief.

“But, you’re together. You have a Mom and Dad and a big family that spends lots of time together.” To her they seemed like the most magical, perfect family, almost as good as hers had once been.

“We spend too much time together.” He ran his fingers through his long bangs pushing them out of the way. “I can’t tel you how often I wish I could ditch my family. I never get any privacy.”

“That is one thing I have a ton of.” She looked out at the creek as it rushed over age-old rocks. Her days were filed with solitude. Even at school, the kids stayed away. They knew her past was tragic and that made her different. She didn’t match their perfect picket fence lives, so they treated her like a pariah. She didn’t care though. It was better to be alone, than to explain her past.

But sometimes she wished someone special cared about her.

It might be nice to have a friend to keep her from spending too much time alone, or to drag her into a game of Frisbee, or even someone to talk to about nothing at al.

Peter’s voice brought her out of her silent lament.

“I’d like to trade my little brother Adam for more privacy any day.”

Their eyes connected giving her another little jolt. She thought of her little sister. Libby would trade anything for one more day with her.

“I shouldn’t complain,” he continued. “But once in a while, it’d be nice not to have every minute of my life planned.”

“What do you mean?” She hopped from one large rock to the next.

He considered her carefuly. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Of course, I do.” Her backbone stiffened. She hated being talked down to, especialy by Peter. He was not like everyone else, at least not in her eyes. She left his side and moved ahead. She jumped from rock to rock and crossed the stream to the other side.

“Don’t get al stuck up on me, but do you realy understand what I do?”

“Yeah, you sing with your brothers. You travel around in your bus and perform. I’m not a total moron.” Why did he have to show his jerk side? Everything had been perfect.

“I didn’t say you were a moron, but, there’s a lot more to it than that.” Peter easily leapt over the rocks to reach her side. He held her arm to slow her down. The stream rushed by noisily, the raw smels of moss and ferns surrounded them.

“Okay, for example, we just came from New York where we were on Rock Hits Live.”

She stared blankly, arms crossed. She refused to admit her ignorance.

“You don’t know what that is?” He shook his head in disbelief. “It’s a live music interview show. Do you ever watch TV?” He asked in disbelief.

Libby huffed a sigh of irritation. “No. I haven’t laid eyes on a TV for over a year.” Other than Aunt Marge’s ancient set, which was permanently turned to the Home Shopping Network.

She didn’t know why she admitted even that smal detail. She hated when people looked down on her unconventional life, especialy since she had no control over it. She hated it even more from Peter. She refused to believe he was like the others.

“Realy?” He responded.

She could see the unasked question behind his eyes.

“Okay, listen,” he said, determined to help her understand.

“We just came out with our third CD.”

“Yeah, wel anyone can make a CD. We have a media class where kids create them for extra credit.” Ahead an enormous boulder dominated the end of the trail; the creek poured out on each side. Libby climbed over the surrounding rocks, reached the top and sat. Peter folowed.

“Your right, it’s not that hard to put together a CD. But we’ve got a major recording contract. We spent a month in the studio recording our latest music. We’re doing massive publicity for our new CD.”

The more he spoke, the more she noticed a serious side in him. This was his life, and his passion. Libby’s pulse quickened as she listened. It seemed even more impossible he’d be here talking to her.

“Everyday is filed with rehearsals, interviews, and appearances.”

“Realy? That does sounds like a lot.” How foreign it was to her pithy little Rockvile life. He had no idea how easy his life was.

“So between al that work and travel, it doesn’t leave much time to think, let alone relax.”

Peter’s concentration moved from Libby for a moment as he noticed their surroundings. They perched on the top of a huge boulder in the heart of the glen. Every inch of the steep rocky sides dripped with silky moss and ferns poked out their feathery fronds.

The moist scent of the glen’s lush vegetation filed the air. A cool mist floated around them. It was Libby’s magic place.

“This is amazing.” Awe colored his voice.

“Yeah, it is. I’m glad you like it.” She leaned back on her hands and inhaled a deep breath of nature’s gift. “So, when are you done? When do you go home?” She ran her hands over the cool, gritty rock, afraid to hear the truth.

He flipped his mop of hair out of his face. “We get a couple days to go home here and there, but we’re booked solid for the next ten weeks. Then if everything fals into place, we might be going to Europe for a couple months.”

This amazing guy lived his life bigger than her wildest dreams.

Maybe she could have thought about travel and making huge plans, but life had delivered a left hook and knocked her off her feet. Each time she tried to get up, another blow knocked her back down. So now she stopped trying to get back up. She was nothing, a nobody, a shel of her former self. She wrapped her arms around her knees and held tight.

“Now what’s that look for?” Confusion lit his eyes.

“Nothing. I just didn’t know you were such a big deal.” Her lips tightened into a thin line. “I must look awfuly boring to you.” She wouldn’t meet his eye. Why was he wasting his time with her?

“I didn’t tel you al that to brag, but I figure you should know we’re not just another folk group singing on Sundays. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just not what we do.” He leaned forward, caught her eye and refused to look away.

“And you’re not boring; totaly the opposite. It’s just that we’re always on the go, one rehearsal, taping or interview after another al day every day. We never stop. My dad and Garrett are always plotting and planning the next step of our career.” Peter roled a smal pebble between his thumb and forefinger mindlessly.

“Don’t you like it?” She searched his eyes.

“Yes, I love it! Are you kidding?” He tossed the pebble to the water below. “I’m living my greatest fantasy. Everyday I wake up amazed al this is happening. But it gets exhausting, and I crave time to be alone and have privacy.”

He gazed into her eyes. “But times like this, where I’m doing what I want, like sitting with you.” He bumped shoulders with her again. “They’re the best.”

Libby bumped him back. “See not every minute of your day is planned.” He took her hand and gave it a warm squeeze. She rewarded him with a shy smile. “So what’s your favorite part of the band?” She loved to hear him talk, and wanted to know more about his life before he disappeared again.

“The best part is performing. I could sing on stage al night.

There’s such a connection to the music and the audience. It’s total euphoria.”

They sat atop the giant rock engulfed in the misty cool beauty of the glen. Peter reached over and held her hand. They relaxed, content in each other’s company. Peter ran his thumb over her fingers. Suddenly he paused and turned her hand over.

“What’s this?” He asked, innocently enough.

“Nothing.” She snatched her hand away, embarrassed.

“No, give it back.” He reached out and puled her hand back into his two and examined the violent bumps. “What are al these marks?”

Her face heated at his question. “It’s nothing.” She tried to brush it off, but dread crept in.

“It’s not nothing, it looks like cuts.” He held tight to her hand as he examined it. “You’re not a cutter are you?” He looked her straight in the eye.

“No! Now let go.” She tried to pul her hand away, but he wouldn’t release her. Libby’s happiness spiraled down, the joy of the day gone. Too often the kids at school snickered ‘cutter’ to her back, just loud enough that she’d hear.

“Wel, what happened?”

She understood why he asked. She might ask the same thing.

Peter’s expression was honest concern, nothing more.

“They’re scars. From a car accident.” She bit her lip, not wanting to reveal another word.

“Oh God, that’s terrible.” He continued to study her permanently marred fingers and palm. “It must have been a realy bad accident.”

“Yeah, it was,” she whispered as the image of the crumpled car and glow of ambulance lights flashed in her mind.

He peeked up at her past the heavy chunk of hair that covered his eyes. “You know, they look like little starbursts.”

“Whatever you say,” she replied, not seeing it.

“Give me the other one,” he commanded, as if her feelings weren’t involved. For some reason she obeyed and extended her other hand. He examined both palms, lightly trailing his thumb and fingers over the surface of her skin. Shivers ran up her arms.

“No, they’re not starbursts.” He continued to touch each mark. “They’re angel kisses. It’s like angels kissed your hands al over.” His eyes rose to meet hers. They were filed with kindness and compassion. Something she had felt little of the past year.

Only Peter could turn the violent scars from a devastating accident into something beautiful. He was the sweetest person she’d ever met. Without another word, he lifted first one hand and then the other and kissed each little mark on her tender, scarred hands.

Libby’s mouth opened in wonder. Peter bent over her damaged hands. His soft lips pressed to them. His warm breath tickled her skin as his lips gently moved. Goosebumps danced up her arms and her stomach flipped. Never in her life had she felt this way. His tender kisses were heaven. She never wanted this moment to end. For once she thanked God for the ugly scars.

Peter looked up, her hands cradled in his, as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. His eyes, a deep pool of liquid brown, melted into hers. Libby’s breath slowed. Today her world was perfect. This beautiful boy held her captive. His expression confirmed he felt the same. They leaned their heads closer, just inches apart.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye.

“Ouch! Crap.”

They looked up just in time to see Peter’s brother Adam slip down the side of the boulder, and drop his fancy camera in the process.

“What the?” Peter exclaimed. They jumped away from each other as if guilty of some terrible act. Adam, crouched at the bottom of the large boulder checking his camera for damage.

“Adam, what the hel are you doing?” Peter yeled, their moment shattered.

“Looking for you, nimrod. Dad’s realy pissed. You were supposed to be back an hour ago.”

“Shit,” Peter said under his breath.

Adam resumed his picture taking, focusing on Libby and Peter.

“Stop it.” Peter reached for the camera. “Don’t make me break that thing.”

“Hey, I’ve got some great stuff here, this new lens is amazing.

I’ve heard the paparazzi use this type too. I got it al, Peter, including your nose hairs. You should realy trim them.” Adam ducked out of Peter’s reach before he could get smacked.

“Libby, please excuse my “little” brother. As you can see he is mentaly chalenged.”

“Hi.” Libby said, mortified to be discovered at such a vulnerable time.

Adam flashed her a huge grin.

“Adam here is going to hightail it back to the bus and tel them I’m on my way. That way I won’t have to break his fingers. Right?” Peter stood and glared at his brother.

“Dad would be pretty ticked if you did that. Plus, who’d play lead for you, so you don’t go off key al the time.”

“Libby, can you find me a rock? I need to throw it at Adam?”

“Geez, you realy know how to spoil a party,” Adam complained.

Peter faked a throw.

“I’m going, I’m going.” Adam turned and hurried down the trail, occasionaly jumping from one large rock to another, his camera held tightly.

Peter turned to her.

“I’m so sorry. My family is the worst. They drive me nuts.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Libby smiled. She would give anything to have a family again. Especialy one like his.

“We better get going. My dad hates to be kept waiting.” They rushed back, covering the ground in a fraction of the time it took to get there. Peter took her hand often to help her over large boulders that blocked the path.

When they arrived at the break in the woods, the engine of the grand tour bus rumbled impatiently. Adam leaned against a tree, futzing with buttons on his camera.

“This was great,” Libby said. She hated to see it end. The day was glorious.

“Hey, we head back down to Chicago on Saturday. I can’t promise anything, but I bet I can talk my mom into a stop here. Any chance you could meet me? Can I cal you?”

First excitement, then panic, hit. Visions of Aunt Marge answering the phone filed her mind. “No, you can’t cal. I’m sorry.” She softened. “But I can be here. I’l wait for you.”

“No phone either, huh?” He winked. “It’l probably be around lunchtime, I’m sorry I can’t give you an exact time.” He spoke fast, looking to the bus every few seconds. “I’l meet you at that flat rock outcropping where I found you today.”

“I’l be there.” She would wait al day if need be. Anything for another chance to see Peter. His gaze gave her such hope.

“I’ve gotta run. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Peter jogged easily across the field toward the bus, Adam at his side.

“Sorry to interrupt back there. Looks like you were about to get some.”

Peter shoved him away. “Shut it.”