Part 10 (2/2)

Not like his girlfriend and best friend.

But I didn't say this out loud, of course.

I couldn't help wondering if the new Mrs. Wagner came out here much, maybe with her morning cup of coffee. Had the irony of his house's widow's walk occurred to Will? You know, her being a widow, and all?

”Do you miss her?” I asked Will suddenly. Too suddenly, I realized, when he looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about.

”Who?” he asked.

”Your mom, I mean,” I said. ”Your, um, real mom.” I didn't figure there was any point in pretending like I didn't know the story of what had happened with his dad.

”My mom?” He squinted out across the water. ”No, not at all. I never knew her. She died when I was born.”

”Oh,” I said. Because I didn't know what else to say.

”It's okay,” Will said with a grin, I guess sensing my sadness for him, and wanting to rea.s.sure me. ”You can't miss what you never had.”

”I guess,” I said. ”Do you like-” I paused, not sure what I should call his stepmom. ”-Marco's mom?” was what I ended up settling for.

”Jean?” Will nodded. ”Yeah. I like her a lot.”

”Well,” I said, ”that's good. And Marco?”

”Yeah,” Will said. His grin broadened. ”How'd you know about Marco and Jean? Have you been asking around about me, or something?”

”Maybe,” I said, feeling myself start to flush, and hoping he wouldn't notice in the relative darkness.

If he did, he didn't let on.

”Marco's cool,” Will said, with a shrug. ”He...” He paused, seeming to struggle with how to put what he said next. ”He didn't have a lot, growing up. He's been in some trouble. But I think he's starting to chill a little.”

”He and your dad get along?” I asked casually, but I was really curious. Would I get along with the man who'd ordered my dad to his death, then married my mom? I was thinking probably not.

Will looked thoughtful. Not sad, or anything. Just like he was thinking hard about what I'd asked.

”You know, I think they do,” he said finally. ”It's different for Marco. I mean, he's not related to my dad. So there isn't the same...pressure between him and Marco as there is between him and me.”

”So I guess that's what you meant when you were talking about things being weird,” I said. ”About Marco and your dad and stepmom and...what happened with them, and everything?”

I guess it was wishful thinking. You know, that the thing with Will's parents was really what was bothering him, and not...well, the thing with his girlfriend. I mean, did Will suspect? About Lance and Jennifer? He had to. What had happened at tonight's game, with Lance not having been there for him because he was over by the sidelines talking to Jen...and now the two of them having disappeared together....

That had to be what he meant about things being weird lately. That had to be the explanation for the dark shadow I sometimes saw fall across his face. Didn't it? I mean...didn't it?

”I guess that's part of it,” he said, looking out into the water. ”But it doesn't explain everything. It doesn't explain....” He tore his gaze from the bay and looked down at me instead.

And I knew-just knew-what was coming. I even closed my eyes, antic.i.p.ating the blow.

He's going to ask me, I thought. He's going to ask me about Lance and Jennifer. What should I say? I can't be the one to tell him. I just can't. They should have to tell him. Lance and Jennifer! It's their fault, not mine. They should be the ones to have to break the news. It's not fair that it has to be me!

But then, to my utter astonishment, what Will ended up saying to me instead was, ”It doesn't explain what's going on between me and you.”

If that meteorite I'd been fantasizing about earlier had suddenly streaked down out of the sky and taken out the Avalon High cheerleading team, I doubt I'd have been as surprised as I was by what Will had just said to me. I was stunned, in fact, into speechlessness and, my eyes flying open, could only stare at him, my mind sluggishly repeating those last three words over and over again.... Me and you. Me and you. Me and you.

Except that-there was no me and you. To me, maybe. But not to Will.

Was there?

But before I could even begin to formulate a reply to his extraordinary statement, he tore his gaze from mine and, looking out across the water again, asked, ”Do you ever get the feeling that this can't be it?”

My brain staggered around, trying to figure out what was happening. I'm afraid it was all too much for me, and I ended up going, ”Um...what?” because it was the only thing I could think of to say.

”You know,” Will said, a note of urgency in his deep voice as he looked me in the eye again. ”Don't you ever wonder if there's something...more? That we're supposed to be doing?”

”Um.” Okay. Okay, apparently this is heading somewhere, hopefully back to what he'd said before, about me and you. In the meantime, I'll humor him. ”Sure. Isn't that how we're supposed to feel? Otherwise we'd never move out. We'd all just live with our parents until we died.”

He laughed a little at that. I loved the sound of his laugh. It almost made me forget about...well, what I'd seen earlier.

”That's not what I meant, exactly,” he said. ”Do you ever think”-his blue eyes were very bright in the moonlight-”that this isn't the first time you've been alive? Like that you might have done all this-only as someone else-before?”

”Um.” I looked up into his face, wondering what he'd do if I reached out and grabbed it, dragged it down to mine, and kissed him. ”Not really.”

”Never?” He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, a gesture I was starting to realize was habitual for him when he was feeling frustrated. ”You've never had a feeling that you've been somewhere before-somewhere you know you've never been? Or read something that you know you'd never seen before that moment, but that felt familiar anyway? Heard a piece of music you could swear you'd heard sometime in the past, but that you know you couldn't have?”

”Well,” I said. It would be wrong to kiss him. He might freak. Guys don't like it when girls make the first move. At least according to Nancy. But how would she even know? It's not like she ever had a boyfriend. ”Sure. But there's a name for that. It's called deja vu. It's a totally common-”

”I'm not talking about deja vu,” he interrupted. ”I'm talking about knowing you've met someone before-the way I feel I've met you before-even though there's no possible way we could have met before. That kind of thing. You don't feel it? That there's...there's something...something between us?”

Oh, I felt there was something between us, all right. It just wasn't, I was pretty sure, what Will was feeling. I mean, I didn't feel like I'd met him before. Because if I had, I for sure would have remembered.

Although there was that...my feelings for him, and the strength of them. The way I wanted him to be mine, but at the same time, I also wanted to protect him from the hurt I knew he was going to feel when he found out-and he would find out-about Lance and Jennifer. These weren't the kinds of feelings that stem simply from a guy being nice to you, and buying you a cup of lemonade, and giving you a rose.

These were far, far more than that.

Could there be something to what Will was saying? Could we have met before? If not in this lifetime, then...in another?

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