Of the Trees(13)

“Laney, you were supposed to drive me home, remember?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I know,” Laney said, tearing her gaze from this stranger and fixing her speculative look on Cassie. “But I wanted to introduce you.”

“Hello,” the man spoke, and again, there was something in his tone that spoke of age even as his voice was that of a teenager. He held out his hand, lined and dirty looking, for Cassie to shake. She did so tentatively and jumped when the hand that encased hers was soft and warm, the grip steady as it held her for a moment.

“I saw you wander away with Jess,” Cassie said. She found she was having trouble looking away from his face. It was so incongruous with the rest of him. He was older than they were, as least twice as old. He had to be. There were lines around his eyes, despite the smoothness of his forehead. His skin looked rough; his knuckles crisscrossed with a fine web of wrinkles that you could only just see. Yet, he held himself with an easy loping grace, casually observing them in a stance that screamed teenager with a confidence that roared experience. It was beyond disconcerting. A tingle rose in the base of Cassie’s scalp, a dread that had no real place on the edge of a carnival with dozens of strangers still wandering behind them.

Or were the dozens of strangers still there? Cassie looked behind her. All the flashing lights were shut down, the rides were silent and still, and nothing was moving. The music had cut off, and the noise that colored the background now consisted of scuffling feet and the rattle of garbage cans being emptied. Most of the people were gone. Again, the pop of a beer can hissed and someone muttered a curse word. Cassie dragged her attention back to Laney, only to find her still staring at her new friend with a look that bordered on adoration.

“Laney,” Cassie said, shouting her name when her friend didn’t turn immediately.

“What?”

“Jess?”

“Oh, right, she was with me.”

“Well, where is she now?” Cassie asked, irritation starting to creep over the trepidation. It was late now, the carnival was definitely over and mostly cleared out. She didn’t have a curfew, and Laney probably didn’t either, but she knew her father would be waiting up for her. Besides all that, she was irritated with Laney. She was angry that her friend would wander off, not apologize, and then ignore her when it was clearly time to go.

“She’s with Jude.” It wasn’t Laney who answered, and Cassie felt her gaze drawn once more to the stranger, drawn by the melodic voice of the man who was clearly … he was, wasn’t he? … at least twice her age. Irritation rippled over her skin again, and she felt more outside of herself than within, her teeth gritted and her jaw clenched.

“So, go get her,” Cassie said, her voice cold and demanding. Surprise lit his features and from somewhere behind him, some shadow she couldn’t see into, a laugh reverberated.

“Cass!” Laney gasped, knocking her with an elbow. “You don’t have to be rude!”

“I need her,” Cassie said, sparing her friend one withering glance before glaring off into the shadows. “Jessica Evans! You get out here now!”

Beyond the laugh, someone giggled. “I’m coming, coming,” said a slurred voice. From behind the booth, Jessica stumbled.

“What’s wrong with you?” Cassie asked, stepping toward her. Once she had passed the corner of the booth, she could see a large group of people. Some sitting on the dusty ground, a collection of boots and sneakers, all mingled with empty beer cans and one lonely wine bottle. A big man, the one Cassie had seen Jessica speaking with early, stood and followed her from the shadows. In his large, meaty fist, two bottles of beer hung from between fingers. The caps were off, and they glistened with condensation.

“Either of you want—”

“No!” Cassie said forcefully, catching Jessica as she tipped into her arms. “We need to go. Curfew.”

“Please.” Laney laughed, moving forward. Her hand lifted slowly from her side, reaching toward the stranger. “Since when do you have a curfew?”

“Laney!” Her voice was sharp, a crack of a whip in the still night air. Her friend frowned, but her hand dropped back to her side. Cassie saw a wistful smile when Laney turned to face her strange friend.

“I guess we better go,” Laney said, her gaze still fixed on the man leaning casually against the booth.

“Her, too?” asked the big one. His massive hand, still clenching the bottles, rose up and swiped the sweat from his forehead. The condensation from the bottles leaked down the side and dripped onto his stained tank top.

“Yeah,” Cassie said, hoisting Jessica up firmly in her arms. “Her dad is waiting for her in the parking lot.”

The lie came from nowhere, and it was a stupid one that they could check easily. But they didn’t argue. Not one of them offered to help carry the drunk girl to the car. Cassie didn’t care because she was absurdly grateful for that fact. She moved quickly, as quickly as she could, while Jessica’s head lolled on her shoulder, humming a tune that Cassie had never heard before. She thought maybe it was a classical piece or even Celtic, which was weird because she never would have thought that Jessica listened to classical music; she was more a hip-hop fan if she was anything. Maybe her parents or some family friend played it. It was pretty anyway.

Laney trotted along beside her, her mind more at the booths than with her friend.