Paper Dolls by Hanna Peach Page B

“We’re practically wearing his and her outfits.”
    We were both in dark denim and white tops. I laughed, partly in relief. “Aren’t couples supposed to start doing that after they’ve been together too long?”
    He grinned at me.
    “What?”
    “You just acknowledged that we’re a couple.”
    “Did I?”
    He pulled me in for another slow and lingering kiss. “About damn time, Aria Adams,” he murmured against my mouth.
     
    * * *
     
    I stepped out of the car after Clay had parked it on the side of a thin road surrounded by trees. He had driven us out of town along one of the hinterland roads that looped up the mountain range that Mirage Falls was nestled in.
    A few street lights dotted sickly pools of light over the nearby bridge, the sound of water drumming off rocks and the air moist with misty drops. There were no other cars parked here and for the last fifteen minutes until we stopped, none had passed us. We were definitely alone here for miles. Why would he bring me out here?
    Wouldn’t want my Rosey-girl getting involved with the wrong guy. A trickle of fear dripped down my spine.
    Clay’s door slammed shut, making me jump. I shoved my apprehension aside. “Clay, where are we?”
    He stared towards the bridge. “The Mirage Gorge. This is where Mirage Falls gets its name.”
    “Why are we here?”
    He didn’t answer. He walked around to my side of the car and slammed my door shut. The noise was like a gunshot in my ears, sending another jolt through me. The sky was turning a brilliant fiery colour, sunset was almost upon us.
    “Clay, why are we here?”
    “I want to show you something.”
    This was ridiculous. I trusted Clay. He would never hurt me. So why did my body shiver as we made the short walk to the bridge? The sound of gravel crushed under our feet like a death march.
    The bridge crossed over a deep narrow gorge, a waterfall dropping from behind it. Wooden slats lined an iron structure that was wide enough for one brave car; thin poles and strung wire to the height of my hipbone were the only things to stop someone from falling into the abyss. I kept to the middle of the bridge, my feet clattering over the wooden slats, and Clay walked closest to the railing. I wondered how old this bridge was and hoped to God it would hold us.
    I was being ridiculous. Of course it would hold us. It was designed for cars to pass over.
    He paused at the centre of the bridge, leaned against the railing and looked out, his back to the waterfall. We were high enough that we could see the burning sun just about to dip under the sea of forest across the mountains. I stood next to him and tried to enjoy the view, trying to ignore all these jumbled feelings churning inside me. For a time all that I could hear was the drumming of the waterfall crashing down upon all those jagged rocks below.
    Finally he turned to look at me, an odd look in his eyes. “Beautiful, isn’t it.”
    I nodded.
    “Have you been here before?” he asked.
    “No.”
    His face became serious, almost pained, and his eyes took on a faraway look, as if he was looking straight through me. As if I wasn’t there at all. I shivered. “What is it?”
    He shook his head. “Just remembering something.”
    “Remembering what?”
    He looked out again, his eyes becoming unfocused. “Remembering…the last time I was here.”
    A fear ricocheted through me. This was why I had strange feelings about this place. It was like I could feel the ghost of someone’s past hovering about my shoulder. It was the ghost of Clay’s past.
    “What happened here?”
    He didn’t answer for a long time. Then his next words were almost a whisper, “I almost died here.”

6
     
    I almost died here.
    “ What ?”
    Clay stared at his hands, the tips of his fingers running along the grooves of the top of the railing. “When I was eighteen, my world fell apart. My mother was my whole world and she just…she died. My father couldn’t handle it so he just left. I was