The Last Song Page 14

  Ronnie felt the blood drain from her face. She told herself not to listen, not to believe it, that Will wasn't that way. But the words kept echoing in her mind...

  Let me guess. He took you fishing, right?

  Either that or he brings her to the aquarium...

  Had she really misjudged him? It seemed like she was wrong about everyone she'd met down here. Which made sense, considering she'd never wanted to come down here at all. When she drew a long breath, she noticed that Ashley was studying her.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Did I say something to upset you?"

  "I'm fine."

  "Because you looked like you were about to get sick."

  "I said I'm fine," Ronnie snapped.

  Ashley's mouth opened and closed before her expression softened. "Oh, no. Don't tell me you were actually falling for it?"

  New girl, new conquest? It's just the way he is...

  The words kept ringing through her head, and Ronnie still didn't answer--couldn't answer. In the silence, Ashley went on, her voice sympathetic. "Well, don't feel too bad, because he's pretty much the most charming guy in the world when he wants to be. Trust me, I know, because I fell for it, too." She nodded at the crowd. "And so have half the other girls you see around here."

  Ronnie instinctively surveyed the crowd, taking in the sight of half a dozen pretty girls in bikinis, all of their gazes fixed on Will. She felt incapable of speech. Meanwhile, Ashley was going on.

  "I just figured you'd be able to see through it... I mean, you seem a little more sophisticated than the other girls around here. I guess I thought--"

  "I've got to go," Ronnie announced, her tone steadier than her nerves. She felt her legs shaking slightly as she stood. On the court, Will must have seen her stand because he turned toward her, smiling, acting...

  Like the most charming guy in the world...

  She turned away, angry at him, but even angrier at herself for being so stupid. She wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this place.

  In her bedroom, she tossed the suitcase on the bed and was shoving clothes inside when the door opened behind her. Over her shoulder, she saw her dad standing in the doorway. She hesitated only briefly before crossing to the dresser and grabbing more of her things.

  "Tough day?" her dad asked. His voice was soft, but he didn't wait for an answer. "I was in the workshop with Jonah when I saw you come up the beach. You looked pretty mad."

  "I don't want to talk about it."

  Her dad stayed in place, keeping his distance. "Going somewhere?"

  She drew a furious breath as she continued to pack. "I'm out of here, okay? I'm calling Mom and I'm going home."

  "That bad, huh?"

  She turned toward him. "Please don't make me stay. I don't like it here. I don't like the people here. I don't fit in here. I don't belong here. I want to go home."

  Her dad said nothing, but she saw the disappointment in his face.

  "I'm sorry," she added. "And it's not you, okay? If you call, I'll talk to you. And you can come see me in New York and we'll spend time together, okay?"

  Her dad continued to watch her in silence, which made her feel even worse. She surveyed the contents of her suitcase before adding the rest of her things.

  "I'm not sure I can let you go."

  She knew this was coming, and inwardly she tensed. "Dad..."

  He raised his hands. "It's not for the reason you think. I'd let you go if I could. I'd call your mom right now. But given what happened the other day at the music store..."

  With Blaze, she heard herself answer. And the arrest...

  Her shoulders sagged. In her anger, she'd forgotten about the stolen goods.

  Of course she'd forgotten about them. She hadn't stolen them in the first place! Her energy suddenly evaporated and she turned around, plopping down on the bed. This wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

  Her dad still hadn't moved into the room.

  "I can try to reach Pete--Officer Johnson--and see if it would be okay. I might not be able to reach him until tomorrow, though, and I don't want you to get into any more trouble. But if he says it's okay and you still want to go, I won't make you stay."

  "Do you promise?"

  "Yeah," he said. "Even though I'd rather you stay, I promise."

  She nodded, pressing her lips together. "Will you come to New York to see me?"

  "If I can," he said.

  "What does that mean?"

  Before her dad could answer, there was a sudden knocking on the door, loud and insistent. Her dad glanced over his shoulder. "I think that's probably the boy you were with today." She wondered how he knew, and reading her expression, he added, "I saw him heading this way when I came in the house to find you. Do you want me to handle it?"

  Don't be mad at him. It's just the way he is. He can't help it.

  "No," she said. "I'll handle it."

  Her dad smiled, and for an instant, she thought he looked older than he had just the day before. As though her request had somehow aged him.

  But even so, she didn't belong here. This was his place, not hers.

  The knocking at the door sounded again.

  "Hey, Dad?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks," she said. "I know you really want me to stay, but I can't."

  "It's okay, sweetheart." Though he smiled, the words came out wounded. "I understand."

  She tugged at the seam on her jeans before rising from the bed. As she reached the door, he placed a hand on her back and she paused. Then, steeling herself, she went to the door and pulled it open, noting that Will's hand was hanging in the air. He seemed surprised that she'd opened it.

  She stared at him, wondering how she could have been so stupid to trust him. She should have listened to her instincts.

  "Oh, hey...," he said, lowering his hand. "You're here. For a second there--"

  She slammed the door, only to hear him immediately begin knocking again, his voice pleading.

  "C'mon, Ronnie! Wait! I just want to know what happened! Why'd you leave?"

  "Go away!" she shouted back.

  "What did I do?"

  She swung the door open again. "I'm not going to play your game!"

  "What game? What are you talking about?"

  "I'm not stupid. And I don't have anything to say to you."

  Again, she slammed the door. Will began pounding on it.

  "I'm not leaving until you talk to me!"

  Her dad motioned to the door. "Trouble in paradise?"

  "It's not paradise."

  "So it seems," he said. "Do you want me to take care of it?" he offered again.

  The pounding started up again.

  "He won't stay long. It's better to just ignore him."

  After a moment, he seemed to accept that and motioned to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

  "No," she said automatically. Then, putting her hands on her stomach, she changed her mind. "Well, maybe a little."

  "I found another good recipe online. This one has onions, mushrooms, and tomatoes cooked in olive oil, served over pasta, and tossed with Parmesan cheese. Does that sound okay?"

  "I don't think Jonah will like it."

  "He wanted a hot dog."

  "Now there's a surprise."

  He smiled just as the knocking sounded again. When it continued, he must have seen something in her face because he opened his arms.

  Without thinking, Ronnie walked toward him and felt him hold her close. There was something... gentle and forgiving in his embrace, something she'd missed for years. It was all she could do to stop the tears from coming before she pulled back.

  "How about I give you a hand with dinner?"

  Ronnie tried once again to absorb the contents of the page she'd just read. The sun had set an hour ago, and after surfing restlessly through a handful of channels on her dad's TV, she had shut it off and picked up her book. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to make
it through a single chapter, because Jonah had been standing near the window for almost an hour... which forced her to think about what was outside the window, or rather who was outside.

  Will. It had been four hours, and the guy still hadn't left. He'd stopped knocking a long time ago and simply perched himself just beyond the crest of the dune, his back to the house. Technically, he was on the public beach, so neither she nor her father could do anything except ignore him. Which was what she and her dad--who, oddly, was reading the Bible again--were trying to do.

  Jonah, on the other hand, simply couldn't ignore him. He seemed to find Will's vigil transfixing, like a UFO landing near the pier or Bigfoot trudging through the sand. Though he was wearing his Transformers pajamas and should have gone to bed half an hour earlier, he'd begged his dad to let him stay up for a little while, because, in his words, "if I go to bed too early, I might wet the bed."

  Right.

  He hadn't wet his bed since he was a toddler, and she knew her dad didn't believe a word of it. His acquiescence probably had to do with the fact that it was the first full evening they'd all spent together since she'd arrived and--depending on what Officer Johnson told them tomorrow--maybe their last. She figured her dad simply wanted to prolong the experience.

  Which was understandable, of course, and sort of made her feel bad about the whole wanting-to-leave thing. Making dinner with him had been more fun than she'd thought it would be, since he hadn't laced his questions with insinuations the way her mom did lately. Still, she had no intention of staying any longer than she had to, even if it was hard on her dad. The least she could do was try to make tonight enjoyable.

  Which was impossible, of course.

  "How long do you think he's going to sit out there?" Jonah mumbled. By her reckoning, he'd asked the same question at least five times, even though neither she nor her dad had answered. This time, however, her dad set aside his Bible.

  "Why don't you go ask him," he suggested.

  "Yeah, right," Jonah snorted. "He's not my boyfriend."

  "He's not my boyfriend, either," Ronnie added.

  "He's acting like your boyfriend."

  "He's not, okay?" She flipped to a new page.

  "Then why is he sitting out there?" He cocked his head, trying to solve the riddle. "I mean, it's just weird, don't you think? Sitting out there for hours, waiting for you to talk to him. I mean, we're talking about my sister. My sister."

  "I can hear you," Ronnie said. In the last twenty minutes, she figured she had reread the same paragraph six times.

  "I'm just saying it's weird," Jonah mused, sounding like a baffled scientist. "Why would he wait outside for my sister?"

  Ronnie glanced up, watching as her dad tried and failed to stifle a smile.

  She returned to her book and began working through the same paragraph with renewed determination, and for the next couple of minutes there was silence in the room.

  Aside from the sound of Jonah fidgeting and muttering by the window.

  She tried to ignore him. She scooted herself down, perched her feet on the end table, and forced herself to concentrate on the words. For a minute or so, she was able to block out everything around her and was on the verge of slipping back into the story when she heard Jonah's little voice again.

  "How long do you think he's going to sit out there?" Jonah mumbled.

  She slammed the book shut. "Fine!" she cried, thinking again that her brother knew precisely what buttons to push to drive her crazy. "I get it! I'll go!"

  A strong breeze was blowing, carrying with it the scent of salt and pine, as Ronnie stepped off the porch and headed toward Will. If he heard the door close, he gave no indication; instead, he seemed content to toss tiny seashells at the spider crabs that were scurrying to their holes.

  A layer of marine haze screened out the stars, making the night seem colder and darker than before. Ronnie crossed her arms, trying to keep the chill away. Will, she noticed, was in the same pair of shorts and T-shirt he'd worn all day. She wondered whether he was cold, then forced the thought away. It wasn't important, she reminded herself as he turned toward her. In the dark, she couldn't read his expression, but as she stared at him, she realized that she was less angry at him than exasperated by his persistence.

  "You've got my brother completely wigged out," Ronnie stated in what she hoped was an authoritative voice. "You should go."

  "What time is it?"

  "It's after ten."

  "It took you long enough to get out here."

  "I shouldn't have had to come out here at all. I told you to leave earlier." She glared at him.

  His mouth tensed into a flat line. "I want to know what happened," he said.

  "Nothing happened."

  "Then tell me what Ashley said to you."

  "She didn't say anything."

  "I saw the two of you talking!" he accused.

  This was why she hadn't wanted to come out here in the first place; this was what she'd wanted to avoid. "Will--"

  "Why did you run off after talking to her? And why did it take you four hours to come outside to finally talk to me?"

  She shook her head, refusing to admit how burned she felt. "It's not important."

  "In other words, she told you something, didn't she? What did she say? That we were still seeing each other? Because we're not. It's over between us."

  It took a moment for Ronnie to realize what he meant. "She was your girlfriend?"

  "Yeah," he answered. "For two years."

  When Ronnie said nothing, he stood up and took a step closer to her. "What exactly did she say to you?"

  But Ronnie barely heard his voice. Instead, she thought back to the first time she'd seen Ashley, the first time she'd seen Will. Ashley, with her perfect bikini-clad figure, staring at Will...

  Vaguely, she heard Will going on. "What? You're not even going to talk to me? You make me sit out here for hours and you won't even dignify my question with a simple answer?"

  But Ronnie barely heard it. Instead, she remembered the way Ashley had looked that day on the sidelines. Posing prettily, clapping... wanting Will to notice her?

  Why? Because Ashley was trying to win him back? And she feared Ronnie might get in the way?

  With that, things began to click in place. But before she could think of what to say, Will shook his head.

  "I thought you were different. I just thought..." He stared at her, his face a mixture of anger and disappointment, before suddenly turning away and heading for the beach. "Hell, I don't know what I thought," he tossed over his shoulder.

  She took a step forward and was about to call after him when she noticed a flicker of light down the beach near the water's edge. The light rose and fell, as if someone were tossing a...

  Fireball, she realized.

  She felt her breath catch in her throat, knowing Marcus was there, and took an involuntary step backward. She had a sudden image of him sneaking toward the nest while she slept outside. She wondered how close he might have come. Why wouldn't he leave her alone? Was he stalking her?

  She'd seen stories on the news and heard about things like this. Though she liked to think she would know what to do and could handle herself in almost any situation, this was different. Because Marcus was different.

  Because Marcus scared her.

  Will was already a couple of houses down the beach, his figure vanishing in the night. She thought about calling him back and telling him everything, but the last thing she wanted was to stay outside any longer than she had to. Nor did she want Marcus to connect her to Will. In any case, there was no her and Will. Not anymore, anyway. Now it was just her.

  And Marcus.

  Panicking, she took another step back, then forced herself to stop. If he knew she was scared, it might make things worse. Instead, she forced herself into the circle of the porch light and deliberately turned to stare in Marcus's direction.

  She couldn't see him--only the flicker of light as it bobbed up and down. Mar
cus, she knew, wanted her to be scared, which set something off inside her. Continuing to stare at him, she put her hands on her hips and raised her chin defiantly in his direction. Her blood pounded in her chest, but she held her position even as the fireball settled in his hand. A moment later, the light went out and she knew Marcus had closed his fist over it, announcing his approach.

  Still, she refused to move. She wasn't certain what she'd do if he suddenly appeared only a few yards away, but as the seconds became one minute and then another, she knew he'd decided it was best to stay away. Tired of waiting and satisfied that she'd conveyed her message, she turned and headed back inside.

  It was only as she leaned against the door after closing it that she realized her hands were shaking.

  15

  Marcus

  I want to get something to eat at the diner before it closes," Blaze pleaded.

  "Then go," Marcus said. "I'm not hungry."

  Blaze and Marcus were at Bower's Point, along with Teddy and Lance, who'd picked up two of the ugliest girls Marcus had ever seen and were in the process of getting them drunk. Marcus had been annoyed to find them here in the first place, and then Blaze had been hounding him for the past hour, asking where he'd been all day.

  He got the feeling she knew it had something to do with Ronnie, because Blaze wasn't stupid. Blaze had known all along that Marcus was interested in her, which explained why she'd planted those CDs in Ronnie's bag. It was the perfect solution to get Ronnie to keep her distance... which meant that Marcus wouldn't have a chance to see Ronnie either.

  That pissed him off. And then to find her here, whining about being hungry and hanging all over him and pestering him with questions...

  "I don't want to go alone," she whined again.

  "Didn't you hear me?" he snarled. "Do you ever listen to a single thing I say? I said I'm not hungry."

  "I'm not saying you have to eat anything...," Blaze mumbled, subdued.

  "Would you just shut up about it?"

  That stopped her. At least for a few minutes, anyway. He could tell by the way she was pouting that she wanted him to apologize for something. Yeah, well, it wasn't going to happen.

  Turning toward the water, he lit his fireball, angry at the fact that she was still here. Angry that Teddy and Lance were here, when he wanted some peace and quiet. Angry at the fact that Blaze had run Ronnie off and especially angry that he was angry about any of it. It wasn't like him, and he hated the way it made him feel. He wanted to hit something or someone, and when he glanced at Blaze and saw her pouting, she was tops on the list. He turned away, wishing he could drink his beer and turn up the music and just think in private for a while. Without all these people crowding him.