whether or not to be ticked off. “Let’s see. They caught me using the high dive at a public pool after dark, skateboarding down a spiral parking lot ramp … stuff like that. A couple of weeks ago, I got caught bungee jumping off a highway bridge with a homemade bungee cord. The judge ordered a change of scenery for me this summer, said I had to do something productive. Trust me, helping renovate a summer camp in the Catskills is the last thing I want to do.”
The image she had of him did a quick one-eighty. “Why would you go bungee jumping off a bridge?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” he asked.
“Oh, let me see. You could break every bone in your body. Wind up paralyzed. Brain dead. Or plain dead.”
“People wind up dead every day.”
“Yeah, but jumping off bridges tends to hasten the process.” She shuddered.
“It was awesome. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’ve always liked flying.”
He’d given her the perfect opening. She reached into her pocket and took out an eyeglasses case, flipping it open to reveal a fat, misshapen joint. “Then you’ll like this.”
With the glowing end of a twig, she lit up and inhaled.
“This is my kind of flying.” Hoping she’d succeeded in shocking him, she held it out to Julian.
“I’ll pass,” he said.
What? Pass? Who passed on a hit from a joint?
He must have read her mind, because he grinned. “I need to watch myself. See, the judge in California gave my mother a choice—I had to leave town for the summer or do time in juvenile detention. By coming here, I get the bungee-jumping incident wiped off my record.”
“Fair enough,” she conceded, but kept holding out the joint. “You won’t get caught.”
“I don’t partake.”
Ridiculous. What was he, some kind of Boy Scout? His reticence bothered her, made her feel judged by him. “Come on. It’s really good weed. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he said. “Just don’t like getting high.”
“Whatever.” Feeling slightly ridiculous, she added a twig to the fire, watched it burn. “A girl’s got to find her fun where she can.”
“So are you having fun?” he asked.
She squinted at him through the smoke, wondering if she’d ever asked herself that question. “So far, this whole summer has been … weird. It’s supposed to be a lot more fun. I mean, think about it. It’s our last summer as regular kids. By this time next year, we’ll be working and getting ready for college.”
“College.” Leaning back on his elbows, he gazed up at the stars. “That’s a good one.”
“Aren’t you planning to go to college?”
He laughed.
“What?” She let the joint smolder between her fingers, not caring if it went out.
“No one’s ever asked me that before.”
She found that hard to believe. “Teachers and advisers haven’t been hounding you since ninth grade?”
He laughed again. “At my school, they figure they’re doing a good job if a kid makes it through without dropping out, having a baby or being sent up.”
She tried to imagine such a world. “Up where?”
“Sent up means doing time at juvenile hall or worse, prison.”
“You should change schools.”
Again, that joyless laughter. “It’s not like I get to choose. I go to my closest public school.”
She was skeptical. “And your school doesn’t prepare you for college.”
He shrugged. “Most guys get some crappy job at a car wash and play the lottery and hope for the best.”
“You don’t seem like most guys.” She paused, studying the bemused expression on his face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m nobody special.”
She didn’t believe that for a second. “Look, I’m not saying college is, like, nirvana or something, but it sure as hell beats working at a car wash.”
“College costs all kinds of dough I don’t have.”
“That’s what scholarships are for.” She flashed on the year-end assembly that had taken place a few weeks earlier. She would have skipped out, except the alumni magazine had needed her to take pictures. Some military guys had given a presentation on how to get paid to go to school. She’d zoned out during the presentation, but the topic had stuck with her. “Then get into the ROTC. Reserve Officer Training Corps. The military picks up the cost of your schooling. Earn while you learn, that’s what they said.”
“Yeah, but there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. They send you to war.”
“They’d probably let you do more than bungee jumping.”
“What are you, a recruiter for these guys?”
“Just telling you what I know.” She didn’t really care whether or not this kid went to college. For that matter, she didn’t really care whether or not she got into college. Pot tended to make her chatty. She put the now-cold joint into a Ziploc bag to save for later. Maybe to save for somebody who wanted to get high with her. The trouble was, she really only felt like hanging out with Julian. There was something about him. “It must be weird to go to a high school where no one helps you get into college,” she said. “But just because no one’s helping you doesn’t mean you can’t help yourself.”
“Sure.” He tossed another dry branch on the fire. “Thanks for the public service announcement.”
“You’ve got a chip on your shoulder,” she said.
“And you’ve got your head in the clouds.”
Daisy laughed aloud, tilting back her head as she imagined the notes of her voice floating upward with the sparks and smoke from the fire. She felt wonderful around him, and it wasn’t the pot. She liked him. She really, really liked this guy. He was different and special and kind of mysterious. He didn’t touch her, though she wanted him to. He didn’t kiss her, though she wanted that, too. He simply sat back and offered a subtle, slightly lopsided smile.
Those eyes, she thought, feeling a peculiar warmth shudder through her. She looked into them and thought, Hello, other half of my soul. It’s good to finally meet you.
Present Day
Daisy pondered her history with Julian far more than she should, especially at times like this, the middle of the night, when she was all by herself, her body aching
