Part 5 (1/2)

”Boys,” Ash muttered. She looked into her gla.s.s. A few sips shy of empty. ”I need a refill,” she said, but the boys had already tuned her out, sucked back into their game.

Halfway to the bar Ash spotted two newcomers nestled in a corner booth. The young man, with his five o'clock shadow, close-cropped hair, and olive complexion nearly as dark as Ashline's, didn't match her memory for anyone she'd seen at Blackwood. He looked too old to be a student, and yet was still out of place in this bar. The girl smoldering next to him, however, Ash was indirectly acquainted with: Raja, an Egyptian G.o.ddess of sorts on campus, with a reputation for being ”standoffish,” to put it lightly. For the few games of Who Would You Do?

that Ash had been present for at the boys' lunch table, Raja had always come out on top. Ash had met her only 61 once, at one of Bobby's nefarious soccer parties. When Ash had offered her a drink, Raja had just stood up and walked away. When Ash had pa.s.sed her in the hallways, she had observed Raja gliding through the living world like a ghost, mentally somewhere else-home, college, traveling the world. Who knew?

Tonight things were different. The young man was impossibly ignoring his drop-dead gorgeous companion in favor of fixing Ash within his sites.

Ash dropped onto the bar stool next to Lily and tried to ignore them. Ray was busy refilling the pitcher. ”Rolfe's a d.i.c.k,” she said to Lily.

Lily just shrugged.

s.h.i.+t, Ashline thought. She'd never been good at this whole girl-talk opening-up nonsense, and Lily wasn't making things any easier. ”If you like him,” she tried, ”maybe you should just ask him out.”

”Let me spell this out for you,” Lily said in such a surprising display of anger that even Ray looked up from what he was doing. The pitcher overflowed. ”I've been to a dozen American schools since the fifth grade. Each and every one has had its own Rolfe Hanssen, and they're all the same. So for the final time, let the record show that I do not have the hots for Rolfe.”

Ash sat stunned. ”I'm sorry. I-”

”No, I'm sorry.” Lily was rifling through her handbag, fl.u.s.tered now. ”I'm just sick of being asked.” She fished out the ten, tossed it onto the bar top, and waved Ray off when he tried to give her change.

62.

”Well, if you want to talk . . .”

But Lily was looking behind her. ”You've got company,” she whispered. And like that, she picked up her pitcher and disappeared back into the billiard room.

That's when Ashline felt his presence looming behind her. He lingered silently, just within the boundaries of her peripheral vision. He wasn't begging to be noticed, like any other barfly would.

”You're blocking my sunlight, pal,” Ash said over her shoulder. She refused to validate him by meeting his gaze.

”I'm not an eclipse, just an admirer who wanted to introduce himself.” He slipped onto the bar stool next to her and extended his hand. ”Colt Halliday.” The older boy who'd been sitting next to Raja-if she could call him a ”boy” at all.

”Colt Halliday?” she repeated, but ignored his outstretched hand. ”Sweet name. Isn't there a stagecoach somewhere you should be robbing?”

”I left my six-shooter in my other jeans.” His voice was rich and just a tad breathy when he talked, like the whisper of silk against metal. When Ash met someone for the first time, she sometimes got an instant flash of images, as if she could see a person's soul defined within a single painting. When Colt talked, Ash saw crimson and smoke.

”A bandit with a sense of humor,” Ash said. ”New student at Blackwood? Haven't seen you around.”

”No, I'm finis.h.i.+ng up my first year down at Humboldt, but I work most of the week up here as a park ranger.” He 63 leaned against the counter, bringing his sharp cheekbones into profile as he motioned to Ray for another drink. The lines of his face were so angular that his cheeks and chin could have been the cut facets of a diamond. ”So are you going to tell me your name, or am I going to have to start guessing?”

Ash shrugged playfully.

”Fine.” He sighed. ”I'll start reverse alphabetically, but stop me if I get it right. Zora? Zoey? Zelda-”

”Okay, okay! It's Ashline,” she conceded, but couldn't hold back her laughter.

”I know. Raja told me.” Colt smiled and held out his hand again. ”Just wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.”

”You better not be calling me a horse.” Ash finally took his hand, which engulfed hers. Only then did she notice the girth of his forearms, which were so thick and toned that she could follow the veins from his elbow down to his wrist. ”Christ, Halliday, the lumberjack union called. They want their arms back. Do you protect the forest, or cut it down?”

He smirked and squeezed her hand lightly before he severed contact. ”Not much to do when you're out on patrol except climb trees and box with Smokey the Bear.”

”I bet you win, too,” she said.

She took a shameless moment to size him up and catalog everything she knew about him already into two lists.

64.

PROS:.

1. Just under six feet tall, a comfortable height for her 2. Arms that could put even her thighs to shame 3. Rugged and confident in a way the high school boys could never be 4. Most important, he was unlike anyone she could have met back home CONS:.

1. If he had an athlete's body, he might have the athlete mentality to match 2. Friends (?) with Raja 3. Now that she was close enough to smell him, she detected a faint scent of- ”Is that jasmine?” Ash wrinkled her nose. ”Are you wearing Dior?”

Colt sniffed his T-s.h.i.+rt and then sheepishly rubbed his sleeve. ”Raja practically crop-dusted my car with it on the way here.” He scanned the bar from front to back.

”I'm not sure who exactly she was hoping that the perfume would attract . . .”

”I'm just impressed that a perfume-wearing, park-protecting college freshman can still find time to take underage high school students on dates to the bar.” Ash whistled. ”Mom must be so proud.”

”Who, Raja? She's just a friend.”

65.

Ash glanced back in Raja's direction. Given the intensity of Raja's stare, Ash was surprised that she hadn't spontaneously combusted yet. ”Well, your friend looks like she's about to breathe fire for being neglected in the corner. Given the state of the bar clientele”-she panned the room with her best judgmental look-”I can't say I blame her.”

He laughed. ”Raja's a firecracker. She can fend for herself. Besides, you haven't even let me buy you a drink yet.”

Ash opened her mouth, about to cave into the charming inquiries of the handsome park ranger. And then the scream pierced the air.

The scream was certainly human-female, more precisely-but it stretched into an octave that Ash didn't even know she was capable of hearing. It penetrated her eardrums so startlingly that she couldn't help but clamp her hands over ears. The wail infiltrated even her deepest recesses, and her body transformed into a human tuning fork.

”Are you okay?” Colt asked.

”Okay?” she started to ask. Hadn't he heard it too?

The screaming instantly stopped, as if the valve of pain had been wrenched to the off position. He placed a hand on her elbow.

”I . . .” Ash stopped herself and gazed around the Bent Horseshoe. The barflies were continuing their business.