CHAPTER TEN
We stop at the curb a few minutes later, and Amber quickly pays for our ride with her credit card. She’s an expert at working the computer to take care of the bill. She gives the cabbie five dollars in cash and waves at him in the rearview mirror. “Thank you.”
Sam is waiting for us when we get out. Together, we move toward the memorial, mingling with the crowds. There are a lot of people here, even though there’s a chill in the air. The sound of falling water rises above the murmur of voices.
“Have you ever been here before?” Amber asks Sam.
“Nope. Never been to New York City.”
“You guys go ahead. I’m going to grab a brochure.” Amber goes over to an information area while Sam and I walk to the edge of the first structure: a huge, deep pit in the ground continually filling with water that disappears into a hole in the middle.
I’m not sure what emotion this memorial is supposed to invoke in me, but all I can think about is how the water just keeps disappearing and there’s nothing left to show for it. It seems so . . . hopeless. Is it supposed to represent the cycle of life, with things going in, going down, disappearing, and then somehow magically coming back again? I don’t see how that has anything to do with the deaths that occurred here. No one who died on that day is coming back. It makes me sadder than I already was.
People all around us are crying. I have an ache in my chest. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and it confuses me for a moment because it’s too heavy. And then I notice that Amber is still several feet away. It’s Sam who’s touching me as his jaw clenches over and over again. He’s staring out into the water so intently, I’m not sure he even realizes what he’s doing.
My chest tightens, and I shift just the slightest bit away. I don’t mean to reject him; it’s just that his presence is so incredibly intense, I can’t handle it without my heart racing and my pulse running away from me. It’s silly to be so affected by a near-stranger.
His hand drops away. “Sorry,” he says softly, still staring at the water.
“Don’t apologize. I get it.”
“It’s really sad here.” His voice is gruffer than normal.
My own voice is strained, higher than it should be. “Yes, it is.”
“Did you know anyone who died here?”
“No. It was kind of before my time. I was just a kid.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I study his face, looking for signs of his age. His beard covers up too much of his skin to be able to gauge it correctly. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.” He pauses and then looks at me. “You thought I was older, didn’t you?” He sounds slightly offended.
I shake my head at his vanity. Silly man. “Don’t worry. You don’t look a day over forty with that beard.”
He strokes it as he returns my gaze, his sadness slipping away to be replaced by pure chemistry. “Not into the beard?”
I try not to smile, I really do, but the way he’s petting himself and looking at me like that . . . it’s getting me all riled up. My lips move up into a sneaky grin despite my best efforts to remain serious. I hope my sister doesn’t look over at us. I hope no one looks over at us; this is a completely inappropriate emotion to be having in this place.
“The beard’s . . . okay,” I say, lying. In truth, it’s nice. Too sexy, really. He should probably shave it off so I can lose the urge to stare at him every five seconds.
I turn my attention back to the memorial. There are engravings on the edges of the ledge surrounding the water. I run my finger over one of them. Jonathan. A man named Jonathan died in this place where we’re standing. He will never grow a beard or flirt with a girl from central Maine or worry about how scary and confusing it can sometimes be to make connections with people you’ve just met. Suddenly, I feel very, very lucky to be alive, standing in this place with this beautiful man next to me. Tears well up in my eyes. I quickly brush them away before Sam can see me riding this emotional roller coaster straight down to its lowest point.
“How old are you?” he asks.
I’m glad for the distraction and wonder if he did it on purpose to spare me my embarrassment. “Twenty-five.”
“Huh.” He slowly nods, staring off into space. That single syllable is loaded with meaning, but I can’t translate what it is by reading his body language. He just keeps bobbing his head up and down.
I face him. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He turns his head and looks me up and down. “I was just thinking . . . you don’t look a day over forty in that skirt.”
My heart does a double flip. He’s flirting with me! I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from saying anything as my face flames red again. Oh my god, he is too much. How on earth are we going to live in the same apartment for ten days? If he’s this intense after just a few hours, I can only imagine . . .
“Do you like the music?” he asks out of the blue.
I’m confused for a moment, wondering what music he’s talking about. The only thing I can hear is water and people talking. “Huh?”
“Red Hot’s music. Sorry. Totally random subject change.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”
“Things were getting kind of heavy,” he says by way of explanation.
“Yeah. No. No, I get it.” It takes a second for my brain to come back online. He didn’t mean to flirt. He regrets it. He’s taking it back. “Yeah. I guess I’m a fan.” I don’t want to offend him and tell him that I couldn’t care less about their music. After all, his brother is their guitarist, and I’d heard that Sam is supposed to be writing new stuff for them. It would be like him telling me he dislikes farm animals.
“You don’t sound very convinced,” he says, smiling slightly, the emotion not reaching his eyes.
“My mothers were big fans.” I shrug.
“You have more than one?” He looks at me quizzically. He probably thinks his silly beard is throwing me off again.
I shake my head and stare down at the water. “It’s a long story.”
He glances over at Amber, who is now wandering around the other fountain. “I think we have some time.”
I’m not sure how much of my family’s dirty laundry I want to air in front of Sam, so I take two steps to my left, pretending to be interested in another perspective of the fountain. “Maybe another time.”
His jaw tenses and he looks straight ahead. “I get it.” His half smile looks forced.
“You get what?” I worry I’ve offended him somehow, and I don’t want to do that. Not here. Not anywhere, really.
“Who am I, right?” He glances at me, vulnerability in his eyes. “Some jackass who wandered into your vacation and ruined it.”
I shake my head at him, taking two steps back to the right. I’m being rude for no good reason. My mothers would be so disappointed, especially considering who he is to the band. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not here on vacation, and you didn’t ruin anything.”
“You sure about that?” He nods in Amber’s direction. “I’m pretty sure your sister thinks you’re here to play tourist.”
“She might think that, but that’s not the case. She was going to be lonely with Ty gone, so I came to keep her company . . . That’s it.”
His jaw tenses again. “You’re a good sister.”
“Because I’m visiting when she’s lonely?” If he only knew how much I didn’t want to come, I’m sure his opinion of me would change in a heartbeat.
“Yeah. And you’re doing it in a place that you don’t really like.”
Huh. Maybe he does somehow know. “What makes you say that?” Do I have another mind reader in my life? How horribly inconvenient that’s going to be.
His gaze is piercing. It’s like he’s seeing right through my façade. “It’s obvious you don’t like being here. You don’t like crowds. You don’t like talking to strangers.” He shrugs. “You’re reserved. Like me.”
I nudge him with my elbow as I look out over the water, trying to lighten the mood. “What are you talking about? You’re no stranger. We’re practically related. My sister is dating your brother, and they’re living together.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, so I risk sneaking a glance at him. He’s staring out ahead, not seeing the memorial or anything else as far as I can tell. He’s got a faraway look in his eye. His shoulder muscles are tense, and his jaw is bumping out over and over again.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He shakes his head and turns around, slowly walking away. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I’m torn; do I stand here by myself, or do I follow him? I hate the idea of looking like a desperate fool by running after him—he’ll take it as a sign that I like him, no doubt—but I also know what it’s like to be sad and to feel alone . . . like I’m an inconvenience to everyone around me.
He thinks we’re alike. You don’t like talking to strangers . . . like me, he said. And I know that when I’m feeling down, I just want everyone to leave me alone. He probably wants that for himself too. I watch him go, the slump of his shoulders making me feel bad about my decision to stay.
I’m not good in situations like this. Not good at all. Terrible would probably be the most apt description. Analysis paralysis. Too shy to fly. Too school for cool. Would following behind him be creepy, sad, or compassionate? I have no clue.
He looks upset. I don’t think it’s the memorial doing it either. Maybe this place is prompting his sad thoughts, but there’s something else going on, too. I hesitate to take action, not just because I’m not sure how to react, but also because I don’t want to open up the door to him asking me a bunch of personal questions, and I risk that by volunteering to get involved with his problems. Rather than making a mistake by doing something, I decide I’d rather make a mistake by doing nothing. There will be less embarrassment that way, at least. And so I let him walk away . . .
Suddenly, Amber is by my side, taking any further decision out of my hands. “Why do you look so forlorn? Is this place making you sad?”
“Of course it is. I think that’s the whole idea.” I’m trying to make a joke out of it, but it falls flat.
She puts her arm around my shoulders and hugs me to her. “I’m sorry. I just thought . . . if you’re going to see anything in the city, this should be it.”
“No, you’re right. Thanks for bringing me here. I should see this. Everyone should see this.”
“We’ll skip the museum part,” she says. “You could spend hours in there, but maybe another time.” Amber looks over at Sam. “Is he pissed I brought him here?”
“No. I think he’s sad about something else.”
“Did he tell you anything?”
“About what?”
“About his life. About what his deal is.”
I shake my head. “No. He said some stuff went down back where he lives and that’s why he’s here early. That’s all I know.”
I can practically see the wheels turning in my sister’s head as she stares at him. “Sam and Ty had a hard time growing up. Their father wasn’t a very nice person.”
“They can join the party, I guess.” I can’t keep the disappointment from my tone.
“Don’t start,” Amber says, pinching my cheek lightly. “Our fathers are not mean people. It’s a totally different thing with Sam’s father, trust me.”
“Whatever you say. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
I sigh. “Since when are you so nosy?”
“Since when am I not nosy?” She’s back to staring at Sam.
“Aren’t you worried about upsetting Sam and Ty by digging into their past?”
She looks at me. “Why would being interested in their lives upset them?”
“Maybe they’d see it as pushing when they don’t want to be pushed.”
She sighs. “Not everybody is as hyper as you are about people knowing their personal details.”
I laugh at her boldness. “I think people are more worried about them than you give them credit for.” Her teasing strangely makes me feel better. She’s accepted me as who I am. Acceptance means a lot to someone like me, a girl who never feels like she belongs anywhere beyond the end of her driveway.
“Whatever. Let’s go get a cab.”
Amber and I walk arm in arm to the curb where Sam is waiting for us. He throws his hand up, and a cab veers over in response.
“Well done,” she says, giving him a thumbs-up.
He nods at her compliment, saying nothing.
She leans in and speaks quietly in my ear. “I think he’s the strong, silent type.”
I jab her in the ribs with my elbow. “Shush.” Now she’s just looking for trouble. I’m pretty sure he heard her, because his back tenses up as soon as the words are out of her mouth. I don’t think he’s one for teasing, which means we could be in for some trouble over the next ten days. There’s one thing my sister knows how to do well, and that’s how to get under a person’s skin.