mock-sweet, but now it changed. "You can make her not like you, that's what you can do. Because if you do like her, then you want her clear of this. For her sake, and for yours, and for mine. Understand?"
I nodded.
"Good. Now make it happen."
The fat guy was right. One hundred percent right. I was taking risks, but I knew what they were and I knew why I was taking them. Melissa was walking into this thing blind. I had to get her off my track. But how?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
That Friday night I sat in the
Tiny Dancer's
cabin, thinking. Maybe Melissa would be at the Blue Note Café for her newspaper staff meeting. If I showed up, maybe I'd be able to talk to her alone. That was a lot of
maybes,
but I had to take the chance.
A cold mistâalmost a fogâchilled the air, and me. It was so cold that for once I didn't mind climbing the stairway that led from the marina to the café because the climb warmed me. At the top I caught my breath, then crossed the street and stepped inside the café and looked around.
Melissa, her shoulders slumped forward, was sitting alone at a small table in the back corner. No Thomas Dowell, no Natasha Martin, no nobody. I thought she would still be angry with me, but when our eyes met, she smiled.
I ordered a mocha and a blueberry muffin. After I paid I walked over to her table. "OK if I sit here?"
"I want you to. I'm feeling a little lonely, to be honest."
"Where is everybody?"
She shrugged. "How would I know? I guess the success of our first issue drove them all away."
"It was a good newspaper," I said.
"That's nice of you to say, but it isn't true."
Steam rose from the muffin as I pulled it apart. "Do you want some?" I asked.
She shook her head. I took a bite, then another. Melissa fidgeted with her spoon.
I sipped the mocha and then fingered the muffin liner. "I'm sorry about the way I acted on the beach," I said. "I didn't mean to be mean."
"Chance, what was that all about? And don't lie to me. Please."
I looked away for a moment, and then I looked back. "As soon as I can, I'll explain everything to you. Absolutely everything. But until then you've got to promise me that you'll stay off the beach and away from the marina."
Her eyes clouded. "Are you in trouble, Chance?"
"No," I said. "I'm not in trouble."
"You're lying. I can tell."
I looked back at her. "I'm not in trouble, Melissa. But if you keep poking around on the beach, you'll get me in trouble. And you'll get yourself in trouble, too."
Her eyes locked on mine. "How long until you tell me?"
"I don't know for sure. June, at the latest. Maybe sooner."
"And you'll tell me absolutely everything?"
"I told you I would."
"Promise me."
I made a cross on my chest with the index finger of my right hand. "Hope to die."
She smiled, but after that, neither of us talked for a while. "You want something else?" I said when she finished her espresso.
"No thanks. I know it's cold, but I wouldn't mind walking a bit, like we did before."
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to walk with her and slide my arm around her. But when you're bobbing around in the ocean, when you're barely keeping your own head above the water, you can't reach out to anybody, because if you do grab hold, you might pull them under with you. "I can't, Melissa," I said.
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
"And you won't be coming on Friday nights anymore, will you?"
"No, I won't."
"OK then," she said, and she stood up and stuck out her hand.
I shook it. "OK then," I said.
PART THREE
CHAPTER ONE
All through February and March, things went the way the fat guy wanted them to go. Melissa stayed away from the rocks on the beach and stayed away from me at school, so I didn't worry that I was leading her into danger. I picked up the regular packages and brought them to the locker room in the regular way. The red packages, which came almost every Saturday morning, still spooked me. I didn't like the squishiness of them, or the way the coarse paper felt, and I
I nodded.
"Good. Now make it happen."
The fat guy was right. One hundred percent right. I was taking risks, but I knew what they were and I knew why I was taking them. Melissa was walking into this thing blind. I had to get her off my track. But how?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
That Friday night I sat in the
Tiny Dancer's
cabin, thinking. Maybe Melissa would be at the Blue Note Café for her newspaper staff meeting. If I showed up, maybe I'd be able to talk to her alone. That was a lot of
maybes,
but I had to take the chance.
A cold mistâalmost a fogâchilled the air, and me. It was so cold that for once I didn't mind climbing the stairway that led from the marina to the café because the climb warmed me. At the top I caught my breath, then crossed the street and stepped inside the café and looked around.
Melissa, her shoulders slumped forward, was sitting alone at a small table in the back corner. No Thomas Dowell, no Natasha Martin, no nobody. I thought she would still be angry with me, but when our eyes met, she smiled.
I ordered a mocha and a blueberry muffin. After I paid I walked over to her table. "OK if I sit here?"
"I want you to. I'm feeling a little lonely, to be honest."
"Where is everybody?"
She shrugged. "How would I know? I guess the success of our first issue drove them all away."
"It was a good newspaper," I said.
"That's nice of you to say, but it isn't true."
Steam rose from the muffin as I pulled it apart. "Do you want some?" I asked.
She shook her head. I took a bite, then another. Melissa fidgeted with her spoon.
I sipped the mocha and then fingered the muffin liner. "I'm sorry about the way I acted on the beach," I said. "I didn't mean to be mean."
"Chance, what was that all about? And don't lie to me. Please."
I looked away for a moment, and then I looked back. "As soon as I can, I'll explain everything to you. Absolutely everything. But until then you've got to promise me that you'll stay off the beach and away from the marina."
Her eyes clouded. "Are you in trouble, Chance?"
"No," I said. "I'm not in trouble."
"You're lying. I can tell."
I looked back at her. "I'm not in trouble, Melissa. But if you keep poking around on the beach, you'll get me in trouble. And you'll get yourself in trouble, too."
Her eyes locked on mine. "How long until you tell me?"
"I don't know for sure. June, at the latest. Maybe sooner."
"And you'll tell me absolutely everything?"
"I told you I would."
"Promise me."
I made a cross on my chest with the index finger of my right hand. "Hope to die."
She smiled, but after that, neither of us talked for a while. "You want something else?" I said when she finished her espresso.
"No thanks. I know it's cold, but I wouldn't mind walking a bit, like we did before."
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to walk with her and slide my arm around her. But when you're bobbing around in the ocean, when you're barely keeping your own head above the water, you can't reach out to anybody, because if you do grab hold, you might pull them under with you. "I can't, Melissa," I said.
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
"And you won't be coming on Friday nights anymore, will you?"
"No, I won't."
"OK then," she said, and she stood up and stuck out her hand.
I shook it. "OK then," I said.
PART THREE
CHAPTER ONE
All through February and March, things went the way the fat guy wanted them to go. Melissa stayed away from the rocks on the beach and stayed away from me at school, so I didn't worry that I was leading her into danger. I picked up the regular packages and brought them to the locker room in the regular way. The red packages, which came almost every Saturday morning, still spooked me. I didn't like the squishiness of them, or the way the coarse paper felt, and I
Similar Books
