Kelley Armstrong - The Gathering

“Maya?”

I scrambled up as a figure appeared at the edge of the woods. Nicole. I waved and she stepped through into the clearing, gym bag slung over her arm.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going swimming today,” I said.

She blushed. “I know, I practice too much.”

“Um, no. I mean swimming … in a lake … in October.”

“It’s not that cold. And the pool we’re going to next month is always freezing, so I thought it’d be good for me. But now that you mention it …” She gazed out over the lake and shivered.

“Uh-huh,” I said, and we both laughed.

“I heard you talking,” she said as she came closer. “Who’s up there—?”

She stopped as she realized I was alone. Then she looked at the lake and her cheeks colored. “Oh. I-I’m sorry. I’ll just, um … I’ll see you tonight.”

“Hold up,” I said as I scrambled off the rock. “I was just leaving. My mom will have lunch ready soon. Join us. There’s always lots.”

I caught up and we walked in awkward silence for a minute before she said, “Daniel asked me to the party this morning.”

When I glanced over, she blushed again. “I mean, obviously, I was invited. But he called to make sure I was coming, and I thought maybe he wanted help, but he said he was with the guys today, so I thought, you know, he was just making sure or something.” Another bright flush. “It probably doesn’t mean anything, but it was nice.”

I nodded. “He said he might ask you.”

Her face glowed, and I felt a little guilty. Mom says I shouldn’t play matchmaker. If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen. But if I can help make things happen—whether it’s getting a couple together or organizing a fund-raiser or being captain of the track team—then I don’t see the point in sitting back and doing nothing.

I thought Nicole would be a good fit for Daniel. Not a love-of-his-life match, but someone who could help him get back into dating, someone who really liked him and would be happy just to hang out with him, take things at his pace, understand if it didn’t work out.

“I hear you invited someone, too,” she said.

“Huh?”

She grinned and elbowed me. “Forgotten already? I met Rafe in the store last night and asked if he was going tonight, and he said that you invited him.”

I opened my mouth to say it wasn’t like that, then shut it. If Rafe said I invited him, then he wasn’t lying. No more than I’d been when I said Daniel had considered asking Nicole. It just wasn’t the way it sounded.

“I told Daniel about it when he called,” Nicole said. “I was just going to razz him about it, but he seemed surprised.”

That was putting it mildly, I was sure. I should have mentioned it—I just hadn’t figured Rafe would take me up on the offer. He probably still wouldn’t, but I should have told Daniel anyway.

“Daniel’s fine with it,” she continued. “You know how he is. If you’re cool with it, he is, too.” She kicked a tree branch off the path. “Anyway, Rafe’s not so bad. Hayley doesn’t think so anyway. She—Oh.”

When she hesitated, I said, “What is it?”

“Just, well, if you’re going with Rafe, and Hayley finds out I knew about it …” A deep breath. “I’ll have to tell her. She’ll be really mad if I don’t.” Another pause. “And she’ll be really mad if I say you invited him.”

“Which has nothing to do with you.”

“I know but … maybe I just won’t tell her.”

Fair or not, Hayley would take it out on Nicole. If any of the kids had a problem with small town life, it was Hayley. You can’t be a convincing mean girl without an entourage. Stuck with a meager selection, she’d decided to convert Nicole. I hated how she treated her—best friends one day, ordering her around the next. Nicole didn’t seem to like it either, but with Serena gone, I guess she’d decided Hayley would have to do, since I didn’t seem to be interested.

I looked out at the lake. I could use a girlfriend. A real one I could talk to, not just someone to hang out with. How could I push Daniel to replace Serena in his life when I wasn’t ready to?

When would I be ready to?

I didn’t know. Just not yet.

Nicole came to my place for lunch, then we hung out, but it was awkward. I was used to being with her as part of a group, and it wasn’t long before she “remembered” a singing lesson, and I spent the rest of the afternoon with my animals.

When Dad took me to the party that evening, I still hadn’t shaken my mood. If anything, it’d gotten worse. I couldn’t stop thinking about Serena. Couldn’t stop thinking this was my second birthday without her. The first party, though. She’d died at the end of August and even by October, I hadn’t been ready for a party without her. Now I realized I still wasn’t.

We were halfway down the wooded road to Daniel’s place when Dad pulled over to the side.

“You don’t look like a girl heading to her sixteenth birthday party,” he said.

“It’ll pass. I’m just …”

“Serena?”

I nodded. My eyes filled and I pushed my palms against them. “Great. I knew I should have bought the waterproof mascara.”

Dad pressed a tissue into my hand. I carefully wiped my eyes, then flipped down the visor mirror.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“You’re parentally obligated to say that.”

“True.”

I made a face at him, then adjusted my seat belt, and said, “Carry on, Jeeves.”

“Jeeves is a valet, not a chauffeur.”

“We can’t afford both, so you’re stuck with double duty.”

He stopped in front of the house. The windows were dark.

“Oh, please,” I said. “Not the surprise party thing again.”

“Better work on your surprised face.”

I opened the door. “No final words of warning?”

“I trust you.”

I sighed. “That’ll be my epitaph someday. So trustworthy. So honest. So boring.”

I headed up the walk. Like all the houses in Salmon Creek, the Bianchi home is owned by the St. Clouds. This one is two stories with four bedrooms, one for Daniel’s parents and one for each child. No matter what your job is, your house is just big enough to fit your family comfortably. They’re all nice, though, not cookie-cutter military base houses. The Bianchi place is modern Victorian, with gabled windows and a big front porch that cries out for a swing. Yet there’s no swing. Never has been.

The front door was locked. All part of the show, given that I knew where the key was. I unlocked it and let myself in.

“Oh my, no one’s here,” I called. “Could I have the wrong day? Maybe they all went someplace else to party without me.”

Silence. I walked into the living room. When no one jumped out and yelled “surprise!” I started to get concerned. I wandered through the empty, silent house, finally ending up in the dining room where brightly wrapped gifts were piled on the table.

“Okay, guys, so where are you?”

I noticed something on top of the pile. A papaya. I groaned. That was my classmates’ old nickname for me. Maya Papaya. Original, I know.

There was an arrow carved in the papaya, pointing to the screen door.

“Follow the papayas,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Guys, guys, guys …”

I headed for the door.

I FOUND ANOTHER PAPAYA in the middle of the yard, pointing to the path leading into the forest. As I walked, I alternated between looking for papayas on the ground and for classmates overhead. Given how many times I’d jumped out of trees or off rocks and scared the crap out of my friends, I figured payback might be coming.

But there was no sign of anyone—just papayas, a half dozen of them leading me along the path. Then I stepped out into the clearing at the base of a rock face that rose fifty feet in the air. I’d seen this particular cliff many times, but today it was different. Today it had toeholds and cuts carved out and stone protrusions drilled on. A belay and pulley hung from the top.