Rapid Falls(33)

Wade was a simple guy. He wasn’t stupid—but he liked problems that could be solved. It wasn’t in him to second-guess or yearn for something more than what life dealt him. Wade was Jesse’s best friend and had been since the first day of kindergarten. At Jesse’s insistence, he had reluctantly accepted me as the third in their trio. I had won him over a few hours later when I showed him where to find a frog at recess. When we got a little older, Anna tagged along with us too, and I got the feeling that Wade thought of her the same way Jesse and I did: a pesky little sister to be tolerated if necessary and ditched when possible. I always knew where I stood with Wade ever since we were kids. I was counting on that.

As I waited for him at the picnic area, I examined my fingernails closely, trying to find one that had grown long enough to be satisfyingly gnawed off. Jesse used to tease me about the ugly missing skin around my nail beds, often raw to the touch. It was a disgusting habit, but it helped calm me when I was feeling unsettled or out of control. I tore off a small bit of skin and spit it into the dirt below my feet, remembering the last time I was at Rapid Falls was over a month ago.



Jesse and I had decided to play hooky from school on an early May afternoon—one of the first warm enough to hint at summer. Rapid Falls High was a squat one-floor building just up the road from the Rapid Falls Inn. The front of the school, where the classrooms were, had a long band of windows that looked onto the highway. Sometimes the view felt like a taunt as I gazed out the windows at the cars heading out of town. There were only three hundred kids in the whole school, so by senior year it seemed like there were no new conversations left to have. During lunch, we would gather in the Cave, a carpeted room at the center of school that served as our drama room. The room would buzz, but it all just seemed like noise to me. I didn’t care who kissed whose boyfriend at the Field last weekend or how much money someone had saved to buy their truck. It was May, just weeks away from graduation, and I was tired of the gossip and the mustard-color walls. I was ready for the next part of my life to begin. I was proud of the heavy white leather graduation jacket draping my body as I walked down the hallway. It felt like I was wearing the ticket to the future.

Jesse had shop class after lunch, so he didn’t have to worry about leaving early. Our shop teacher, Mr. Crumb, was legendarily lax. He took attendance at the beginning of his class and then retreated into his office, leaving students alone with the engines they were supposed to take apart and put back together. Usually the shop was empty halfway through the period, but Mr. Crumb never reported anyone missing. I, on the other hand, had to fake an illness to get out of history. On my way out the door, the principal stopped me to ask where I was heading.

“Doctor’s appointment,” I lied. “Women’s issues.”

He looked at me skeptically, then nodded. I felt wonderful as I walked outside. The air was warm and smelled faintly of flowers. Everything felt perfect. Until I saw her. She was leaning on Jesse’s truck, laughing. He was standing close to her, almost touching her. I could hear something in Anna’s voice that I’d never heard before. She was tilting her head and talking a little faster than normal. She was flirting. Neither of them saw me coming.

“What are you doing here, Anna?” I said sharply. Just because she had broken up with Ross didn’t mean she could flirt with Jesse. She sprang back like she’d been stung. Jesse had a weird look on his face too. Almost like guilt.

“Just . . . talking. Jesse and I were just talking about my . . . film.” Anna looked at Jesse, not me, as she spoke. I felt my rage rise at her lack of eye contact, at the way she acted like he was on her side and not mine. For the last few months, Anna had been working on a project to use as part of her application for film school upstate. Jesse was the star. The program accepted students in their last year of high school so they could prepare for a film degree. I hoped that she’d get in because it would mean she would not be able to return to our hometown for Thanksgiving. The program was intensive and didn’t allow for long holidays, so Jesse and I would be able to come back to Rapid Falls and celebrate our first months of college without Anna by our side.

Jesse seemed to sense my annoyance and tried to defuse the tension.

“Anna needs to shoot a few more scenes before she sends it off. I told her she could come with us this afternoon.” I saw Anna was carrying her backpack. Irritation scratched my throat. I shielded my eyes. Suddenly the sun seemed too bright. It was almost sickening.

“Huh,” I said. Anna had been getting on my nerves a lot—always asking to tag along when Jesse and I were hanging out. “It’s kind of a full truck.” Jesse’s pickup truck was ten years old and barely bigger than most people’s cars.

“We’ve squeezed in three people lots of times,” Jesse said. “Besides, I’m sure Anna can fit. She’s tiny.” I felt another wave of annoyance, but Jesse didn’t notice. He was too busy looking at Anna.

I was furious. Anna shot me a triumphant smile. Loser, loser, loser, I repeated in my head for the entirety of the drive. It didn’t make me feel any better, especially since Anna and Jesse were so busy planning the next scene that they didn’t notice my silence. The parking lot was empty when we got to the waterfall. The town was trying to redevelop its industry to attract tourism dollars and compensate for the decreasing price of wood on the international market, but so far it hadn’t managed to do much more than attract the same bunch of German tourists who came every year to kayak.