The Reaping (The Fahllen #1)(16)
Author: M. Leighton

Later, when the sixth period bell rang, I ran out the door in hopes of catching Leah. Ryan had driven her home again yesterday and I could only assume that this would be the new norm. I knew I had to get to her before they left the lot.

But I was too late. They were already gone. My only other option was to stop by her house on my way home. Hopefully they’d beat me there.

And they did. Leah was still sitting in the car with Ryan when I reached her mailbox. I waved to get her attention and, when she waved back, I made my way up her driveway.

She must’ve said her goodbyes because Leah got out and shut the door. Ryan was backing out just as I reached her.

Leah’s cheeks were flushed with color and her smile was so big I bet her face hurt. She radiated sheer bliss.

“He didn’t have to leave. I just needed to ask you something real quick,” I said.

“It wasn’t you. He had to go. He was actually supposed to go straight home from school, but he wanted to take me home first.” I could see that she was positively thrilled over the fact.

“Good. Hey, I’ve got a favor,” I began. I could tell that, mentally, Leah was still with Ryan in the car, but I figured that was about as much of her attention as I was likely to get. “Can Stephen pick me up here tonight?”

I saw her focus return to the here and now then her eyes widen with excitement. “Yes! We could get ready together,” she said eagerly. Then, with a dramatic gasp, she said, “Why don’t you just spend the night? We can stay up all night talking about the party.”

That sounded like such a normal girl-thing to do, I immediately consented. “But what if we leave at different times?”

“Whoever leaves the party first should find the other before she goes. How about that? Then we could both leave at the same time.”

Sounded simple enough. “Alright.”

I told Leah I’d be back right after dinner then I hurried home to tell dad. He was waiting for me in the garage, as usual. I saw his dirty shoes, this time sticking out from behind the open driver’s side door.

Without preamble, I plunged right in. “Dad, can I spend the night with Leah tonight?”

I thought he would come out of the car with both barrels loaded and ready to go, but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even answer me for the longest time. When he did, it wasn’t what I expected. “Carson, is this about your mother and sister?” His voice was soft and sad. Dejected. I guess he thought I blamed him and wanted to curtail my time with him as much as possible.

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it. I hadn’t given it much thought since I found out. I’d stayed busy and during quiet moments I’d purposely avoided thinking of my myriad troubles. Too much was happening too fast. I couldn’t seem to get my bearings and it felt better to just ignore it all, focus on what few good things I had going for me and not question the rest.

“No, Dad. Honestly, I’ve been trying not to even think about all that. This is just a night at Leah’s. That’s it. No big deal.”

He was quiet again. Finally, I heard him sigh. “Alright, but be home early in the morning.”

Relief washed over me. “Ok. Thanks, Dad.”

I raced into the house to pack a bag before I had to start dinner. I flipped through my meager wardrobe, agonizing over what to wear. I settled on a medium weight cable knit sweater, a pair of low-riding jeans and some Ugg boot knock-offs (I’d convinced Dad that I needed them to keep my feet warm on the walk to school in the winter). I stuffed it all into an overnight bag, along with shorts, a t-shirt and a few toiletries, and headed to the kitchen to start the tacos.

A few minutes after six, I was ringing the bell at Leah’s. She flung open the front door, took my bag in one hand and my hand in the other and dragged me up the stairs to her room. From the instant she shut her door behind us, she didn’t stop chattering until Stephen pulled up at the curb. When she saw his lights, she ran to the window and squealed excitedly.

“He’s here! He’s here!”

“I can see that,” I teased. I knew that my excitement should rival hers, especially since I’d been daydreaming about just such a night forever it seemed, but it just wasn’t there. I could, however, find joy in her joy, which is exactly what I did.

She walked me to the door then reminded me, “So, I’ll find you as soon as we get there, ok?”

“Alright,” I said. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Are you kidding? This is, like, the best night of my life,” she declared. “And it’s only seven o’clock.”

I was still smiling when I walked out the door. Stephen was just getting out of his car. I guess he had gotten tired of waiting for me. He hurried around to the passenger side and opened the door for me.

“You look great,” he said, genuine appreciation glowing in his blue, blue eyes.

Leah had forced me to avail myself of all her newly purchased feminine products, which was a real treat for me, since they were all on the “silly” list seven doors down at the Porter house. I’d put a few loose curls in my hair with her flatiron and used some of her lip gloss and mascara. I’d even walked through a sprits of her perfume. I felt like an alien, but in a good way.

“You, too,” I said, my comment as lacking in imagination as was his. He did look nice, though. But then again, he always did.

Once I was seated in the car, Stephen shut the door and rounded the front to the driver’s side. The car smelled overwhelmingly of some sort of cologne. It was probably a nice scent—in moderation—but it seemed that Stephen had doused every inch of his car in the stuff. It was literally breathtaking. I was forced to crack the window or risk passing out.

Just as I was in the beginning stages of a nasty headache, Stephen cut off the main road onto a dirt drive that cut through the woods. It dead-ended at the edge of a grassy clearing. When he parked, I jumped out of the car and took several deep, cleansing breaths. Between the cologne and the football anecdotes, I was ready for fresh air and a change of subject.

I straightened my sweater as I looked around. According to Stephen one of the football players’ parents owned this land. They had erected a series of cabana-like structures in the clearing that formed a semi-circle facing the lake. In the center of the ring of tents was a fire pit surrounded by six long benches made from split trees. A path led from the fire pit down to the dock which was decorated with tiki torches and Chinese lanterns. Just beyond the dock, across the water, I could see a few more torches on what looked to be a small island a couple hundred feet away.