Nicholas Sparks - The Last Song

When she reached the head of the pier, she opted to walk through the business district instead of along the beach. As soon as she rounded the corner near the diner, she knew she’d made the wrong decision. A shadowy figure leaned against the hood of a car, holding a fireball.

Marcus.

Only this time he was alone. She stopped, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

He pushed off the car and walked toward her, the play of streetlights casting his face half in shadow. He rolled the fireball over the back of his hand, watching her, before the ball ended up back in his fist. He squeezed his hand, extinguishing it, and started toward her.

“Hi, Ronnie,” he said. His smile made him seem even creepier.

She stayed in place, wanting him to see that she wasn’t afraid of him. Even though she sort of was.

“What do you want?” she demanded, hating the slight quiver in her voice.

“I saw you walking and thought I’d say hello.”

“You did,” she said. “Bye.”

She started to move past him, but he stepped in front of her.

“I hear you’re having troubles with Blaze,” he whispered.

She leaned back, her skin crawling. “What do you know about it?”

“I know enough not to trust her.”

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

Again she turned, making her way around him, and this time he let her pass before calling out to her.

“Don’t walk away. I came to find you because I wanted you to know that I might just be able to talk her out of what she’s doing to you.”

Despite herself, Ronnie hesitated. In the dim light, Marcus stared at her.

“I should have warned you she gets pretty jealous.”

“Which is why you tried to make it worse, huh?”

“I was just making a joke that night. I thought it was funny. Do you think I had any idea what she would do to you?”

Of course you did, Ronnie thought. And it was exactly what you wanted.

“So fix it,” she said. “Talk to Blaze, do whatever you have to do.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t hear me. I said I might be able to talk some sense into her. If…”

“If what?”

He closed the gap between them. The streets, she noticed, were quiet. No one else around, no cars in the intersection.

“I was thinking we could be… friends.”

She felt her cheeks flush again, and the word came out before she could stop it. “What?”

“You heard me. And I can clear all this up.”

She realized he was close enough to touch her, and she took a sudden step backward. “Just stay away from me!”

She turned and ran, knowing he would follow, conscious that he knew the area better than she did, terrified that he would catch her. She could feel her heart pounding, she could hear her own frantic breaths.

Her house wasn’t far, but she wasn’t in shape. Despite the fear and rush of adrenaline, she could feel her legs getting heavier. She knew she couldn’t keep it up, and as she made a turn, she chanced a look back over her shoulder.

And realized that she was alone on the street, no one behind her at all.

Back at her house, Ronnie didn’t go inside right away. The light was on in the living room, but she wanted to regain her composure before she faced her dad. For whatever reason, she didn’t want him to see how scared she’d been, so she took a seat on the steps of the front porch.

Above her, the stars were out in full, the moon floating near the horizon. The scent of salt and brine rode on the mist from the ocean, a vaguely primordial smell. In another context, she might have found something soothing about it; right now, it felt as foreign as everything else.

First Blaze. Then Marcus. She wondered if everyone was crazy down here.

Marcus certainly was. Well, maybe not technically-he was intelligent, cunning, and, as far as she could tell, completely without empathy, the kind of person who thought only about himself and what he wanted. Last fall, in her English class, she’d had to read a novel by a contemporary author, and she’d chosen The Silence of the Lambs. In the book, she’d learned that the central character, Hannibal Lecter, wasn’t psychopathic, he was sociopathic; it was the first time she’d realized there was a difference between the two. Though Marcus wasn’t a murdering cannibal, she had the feeling he and Hannibal were more similar than different, at least in the way they viewed the world and their role in it.

Blaze, though… she was just…

Ronnie wasn’t sure exactly. Controlled by her emotions, certainly. Angry and jealous, too. But in the day they’d spent together, she’d never gotten the feeling that something was wrong with the girl, aside from being an emotional wreck, a tornado of hormones and immaturity that left destruction in her wake.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She really didn’t want to go inside. In her mind, she could already hear the conversation.

Hey, sweetie, how did it go?

Not too well. Blaze is completely under the spell of a manipulative sociopath and lied to the cops this morning, so I’m going to jail. And by the way? The sociopath not only decided he wants to sleep with me, but he followed me and practically scared me to death. How did your day go?

Not exactly the pleasant after-dinner chitchat he probably wanted to have, even if it was the truth.

Which meant she would have to fake it. Sighing, she heaved herself up from the porch steps and headed for the door.

Inside, her dad sat on the couch, a dog-eared Bible open in front of him. He closed it as she walked in.

“Hey, sweetie, how did it go?”

Figured.

She forced a quick smile, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. “I didn’t have a chance to talk to her,” she said.

***

It was hard to act normal, but somehow she pulled it off. As soon as she got inside, her dad had encouraged her to follow him to the kitchen, where he had made another pasta dish-tomatoes, eggplant, squash, and zucchini over penne. They ate in the kitchen while Jonah put together a Lego Star Wars outpost, something that Pastor Harris had brought him when he’d dropped by to say hello earlier.

Afterward, they settled in the living room, and sensing she wasn’t in the mood to talk, her dad read his Bible while she read Anna Karenina, a book her mom had sworn she would love. Though the book seemed okay, Ronnie couldn’t concentrate on it. Not only because of Blaze and Marcus, but because her dad was reading the Bible. Thinking back, she realized she’d never seen him do that before. Then again, she thought, maybe he had and she’d just never noticed.

Jonah finished building his Lego contraption and announced he was going to bed. She gave him a few minutes, hoping he’d be asleep before she entered the room, then put aside her book and rose from the couch.

“Good night, sweetheart,” her dad said. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m glad you’re here.”

She paused before crossing the room toward him. Leaning over, and for the first time in three years, she kissed him on the cheek.

“Good night, Dad.”

In the darkened bedroom, Ronnie took a seat on her bed, feeling drained. Though she didn’t want to cry-she hated when she cried-she couldn’t seem to stop the sudden rush of emotions. She drew a ragged breath.

“Go ahead and cry,” she heard Jonah whisper.

Great, she thought. Just what she needed.

“I’m not crying,” she said.

“You sound like you’re crying.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me.”

Ronnie sniffled, trying to get herself under control, and reached under her pillow for the pajamas she’d stashed earlier. Pressing them close to her chest, she stood up to go to the bathroom to change. On her way, she happened to glance out the window. The moon had ascended in the sky, making the sand glow silver, and when she turned in the direction of the turtle nest, she detected a sudden movement in the shadows.

After sniffing the air, the raccoon started toward the nest, protected only by yellow caution tape.

“Oh, crap!”

She threw down her pajamas and raced out of the bedroom. As she bolted through the living room and kitchen, she vaguely heard her dad shouting, “What’s wrong?” But she was already out the door before she could answer. Cresting the dune, she began screaming as she waved her arms.

“No! Stop! Go away!!”

The raccoon raised its head, then quickly scurried away. It vanished over the dune into the saw grass.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

Turning, she saw her dad and Jonah standing on the porch.

“They didn’t put up the cage!”

The doors of Blakelee Brakes had been open only for ten minutes when Will saw her push through the lobby doors and head directly into the service center.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he started toward her.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Thanks for nothing!” she snapped.

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked you to do one simple thing! Just make a call to have the cage put up! But you couldn’t even do that!”

“Wait… what’s going on?” He blinked.

“I told you I saw a raccoon! I told you a raccoon was coming around the nest!”

“Did something happen to the nest?”

“Like you even care. What? Did your volleyball game make you forget?”

“I just want to know if the nest is okay.”

She continued to glare at him. “Yeah. It’s fine. No thanks to you.” She turned on her heels and stormed toward the exit.

“Wait!” he shouted. “Hold on!”

She ignored him, leaving Will shocked and rooted in place as she pounded through the small lobby and out the front door.

“What the hell was that all about?”