THE SOUND OF leaves crunching starts again in a rhythmic pattern, like footsteps.
“Peyton, are you out here?” Owen calls from the darkness.
I’m so relieved to hear his voice that I can barely speak. “Yes.”
Owen touches my shoulder, and I flinch. He ducks his head so he can look at my face. “You don’t seem okay. What are you doing out here, anyway?”
I take a deep breath and fight off the panic. “I came out here to look for Grace. I thought she might have gone back to the car. But it’s so dark that I got turned around, and I couldn’t figure out where we parked.”
I’m not sure if I want to tell Owen the rest. “Before you came out, I thought I heard someone following me. That’s why I freaked a little.”
Owen slides his arm around my shoulders protectively. “Did you see who it was?” There’s an edge in his voice.
“No. It was probably just April trying to scare me.”
Owen rubs the top of my shoulder. “April was inside. She was still there when I came out to look for you.”
“Maybe it was Madison. Or Dylan. He’d do anything April says.”
“They were both inside, too.” Owen’s expression hardens. “It could’ve been someone from East Valley. The football teams are rivals. Not as bad as Spring Hill, but it could’ve been one of the players trying to start shit.”
My stomach feels queasy. I don’t like the idea of anyone following me, for any reason.
The sound of another branch snapping startles me. More leaves crunch—louder this time.
Owen whips around and steps in front of me. But when the figure comes into view, I immediately recognize his gait.
“Hey. Have you guys seen Grace?” Christian asks.
I step out from behind Owen. “No. I was looking for her. I think she might have gone back to the car.”
Christian trudges past us. “I’m gonna go find her. I guess I messed up again.”
Owen takes my hand as if it’s something he does all the time. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”
“No thanks. I’m not interested in watching you and Cameron take stupid risks.”
Owen seems confused. “You mean the game? It’s no big deal. We play all the time.”
I slip my hand out of his and wrap my arms around myself. “Did it ever occur to you that you could get killed? If that part of the building caves in…”
I can’t say it.
“That’s not gonna happen. The building has been like this for years.”
“Now you’re a structural engineer?” I ask, frustrated. “That part of the building is condemned for a reason. If it’s unstable, the roof could cave in. Someone could get trapped down there, or worse.”
An image flashes through my mind—a dirt ceiling crumbling over my dad’s head—and I shudder.
Owen notices and starts to take off his jacket. “Are you cold? You can have my coat.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I didn’t realize the game bothered you so much. I won’t play. I’d rather hang out with you anyway. Come on. I want to show you something cool.”
“What?”
“You’re not good at surprises.”
I pout. “Fine.”
Owen leads me around the side of the building to a crumbling concrete staircase that leads down to a padlocked metal door.
“I’m not going in the basement. Did you miss the whole conversation we just had?”
He walks down two steps, our joined hands stretched out between us. “All the damage was on the north side of the building.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred and ten percent. A bunch of newspaper articles came out about it. They had inspectors here and everything.” He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Want me to look it up?”
“No. I trust you,” I say without thinking about it. “I mean … I believe you. But what’s worth seeing down here?” I’m imagining a dark basement full of more rusty machinery. “There are probably rats.”
“I’ll protect you from the vermin.” Owen grins. “I protected you from the bears, didn’t I?”
“Fine.” I follow him down the steps. “But if I see a rat, I’m gone.”
“Deal.” He reaches the second-to-last step and jumps down.
I notice the padlock again. I sigh dramatically. “Oh well, I guess we can’t go in.”
“I just need a minute.”
Owen hunts around near the door and holds up something.
“Is that a rock?”
“That’s what the millionaire who invented these wants you to think.” He slides a panel off the bottom of the rock.
It’s a Hide-A-Key. We had one for our garage when I was a kid.
Owen holds up the key. “Behold.”
He unlocks the padlock and takes it off the door. “You know I did that to impress you, right?” His tone is playful, but there’s also something serious about the way he says it.
“I’m impressed you found the plastic rock.”
He grins and pushes his shoulder against the heavy metal door. It opens slowly and makes an awful scraping sound. “I can’t wait for you to see this. Nobody knows about it but me.”
Owen keeps talking, but I’m not listening anymore.
On the other side of the door, a tunnel stretches out in front of us.
Metal walls rise up from the cracked concrete floor. The ceiling is standard elevator height, and the tunnel is wide enough for three people to walk side by side.
Owen steps inside and turns back to look at me. The moment he sees my face, he realizes something is wrong.
“I can’t go in there.” I’m shaking my head back and forth, over and over, and I can’t stop.
He rushes back to me and cups my cheek with his hand. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re going to pass out.” He touches my forehead as if he’s checking for a fever.
“I can’t go in there,” I repeat. It’s only the second time I’ve said it out loud, but the words keep repeating over and over in my head.
Owen looks back at the tunnel. “Are you claustrophobic? It’s okay. It’s not that far. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.”
I can’t find the words to explain what’s wrong.
He takes my hand. “Maybe if you close your eyes, I can walk you through.”
I don’t know if that actually works for people with claustrophobia, since I’m not one of them. I don’t know if they can feel how close the walls and the ceiling are, even with their eyes closed. I feel it all. And I’m not even in the tunnel yet.
“If you don’t want to try, it’s okay.” Owen touches the side of my face.
I don’t want to feel this way every time I walk up to a football stadium with the wrong type of entrance or an underwater exhibit at an aquarium. I don’t want to see rocks and earth raining down on my father, crushing him, wondering how long he stayed alive.
Did he suffocate? Or try to dig his way out?
How long did he survive under there?
I’m sick of feeling like a hostage in my own body. “I want to try.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod.
Owen takes my hands and he backs into the tunnel one step at a time. The toes of my boots touch the strip of metal that runs across the threshold, and I can’t go any farther. My feet feel like they’re trapped in quicksand and it’s swallowing me inch by inch.
Earth and rocks raining down on me.
“You can do this. I know you can.” Owen tugs my fingers gently, but my feet still won’t move.
The quicksand rises another inch, and my heart thrashes in my chest.
Owen offers me an encouraging smile.
I wish there was a way to let him inside my head so he would understand why this is so hard for me without me having to tell the story. I never talked about it with Reed. Tess and my mom are the only ones.
But I want to tell Owen.
“I—” My voice wavers. “I’m not claustrophobic. My dad died in a tunnel. His team was under a hotel in Iraq. There was an explosion, and the tunnel—” My voice cracks. “It caved in.”
Owen immediately pulls me against his chest and hugs me. “I’m so sorry.”
Tears burn my eyes, and I bury my face in his jacket. I choke back my tears, but I can’t swallow them all. “I don’t know the details, but none of them made it out.”
He kisses the top of my head. “It must be hard not knowing.”
“I don’t want to know. My mom and my uncle have been trying to tell me since the day it happened. But I can’t handle it. I already have nightmares.”
Owen hugs me tighter. “Maybe what you’re imagining is worse than what really happened?”
“Or my version isn’t nearly as horrible.” I hesitate. “I hate talking about it. My best friend, Tess, is the only person I’ve ever told.”
“What made you tell me?”
I pull away. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure, or you’re scared to admit the reason?” Owen puts his finger under my chin and gently turns my face toward him. He dips his head and kisses me softly. “Why is it so hard to admit you have feelings for me?”
“Because…” I try to turn away, but there’s nowhere to go. I rake my fingers through my hair and flip it to the side in an unsuccessful attempt to hide my face.
“Are you going to finish that sentence?” He isn’t letting this go.
I’m raw from talking about Dad and I can’t find a way out of this conversation.
“Because if I admit that I have feelings for you then I’ll have to do something about them!” I blurt out. “There. I said it. Are you happy now?”
He’s smiling. “On a scale of one to ten, I’m at about an eight.”
“Stop.”
“I can’t.” Owen’s expression turns serious. “If I stop, I’ll never find out why you won’t give us a chance. What are you so afraid of, Peyton?”
“You don’t understand. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. I’ve already made too many.”
“So this thing between us is a mistake?” His eyes search mine. “Because the way I feel when I’m with you feels like the opposite of every mistake I’ve ever made.”
I don’t want to admit the truth, not even to myself. But I find the courage to say it.
“Me too.”