Boys, Bears And A Serious Pair Of Hiking Boots Part 23

"Ethan? Ethan, it's going to be OK," I tell him, desperate. He won't look at me.

"You freak!" Grady yells, lunging again. He sends a wicker chair clattering to the ground and knocks me into Ethan. We both fall, hard, against the porch swing before Fiona clutches a handful of Grady's s.h.i.+rt and yanks, choking him.

"Calm down!" she screams at him. He suddenly sags, limp in her arms, and with all her strength, she bundles him into the house. The screen door slams.

I turn to Ethan, gripping his arms. "Are you OK?" I'm shaking, but it's not from the fight or Grady's harsh words. No, right now I'm sick to my stomach with the awful, twisted knowledge that this is all my fault.

All. My. Fault.

Finally, Ethan looks at me. His eyes are watery, but he swipes his tears away with the back of his plaid sleeve. "Don't touch me," he says, quiet and fierce.

"But I -"

"Don't!" he yells, s.n.a.t.c.hing away from me. "It's over. Don't you get that? Everything, it's all over!" His face crumples, distraught. Backing away, he knocks into the fallen chair, but doesn't stop, just takes off, sprinting into the dark.

Into the forest.

"Where's Ethan?" Fiona hurries out about fifteen minutes later. I'm slumped on the front steps, my head in my hands. "Grady's locked himself in my room upstairs; he won't talk to me."

"Oh, G.o.d." I sniffle, trying to smear away my tears. "Ethan took off, out there somewhere." I nod at the dark shadows, looming out of range of the pools of light from the house. "I didn't know if I should go after him. Fi, the way he looked at me . . ." I choke back another sob. I can't believe this is happening - that I made this happen. He trusted me, and I've screwed up everything.

"What do we do?" She blinks at me, eyes wide with worry. "I could get Susie. And I think the guys' mom is here . . ."

"No!" I stop her, remembering what Ethan told me. "Not their parents. Not yet. We've got to do this ourselves."

"But do what?"

Think, Jenna!

Trying desperately to pull myself back together, I take a breath. "OK. n.o.body's noticed anything yet, thank G.o.d. So, you go find Reeve. Tell him what happened, get him to talk to Grady."

"But . . . should we be spreading this around?" Fiona pauses.

"This isn't spreading anything," I say, already getting to my feet. "Grady won't listen to us. He needs someone . . . someone to talk some sense into him. I'll go after Ethan."

"Out there?" Fiona looks past me at the forest. She s.h.i.+vers. "Shouldn't you at least get a flashlight or something?"

"There's no time for that," I argue. "And what if we get grabbed by an adult inside? No, I'll be fine."

She wavers for a moment and then launches herself at me in a hug. I stumble, surprised.

"I'm scared," Fiona admits, clutching me. "You should have seen Grady . . . I've never seen him like this."

"Me either, and Ethan . . ." I swallow. "Come on, we'll make this OK. We have to."

She nods, collecting herself. "Good luck out there."

"You too." I manage a weak grin. And then she's gone again, and I start walking slowly away from the house, toward the dark forest.

It's cooler now, and my thin summer dress and sandals are no match for the sc.r.a.pe of tree branches and tangle of tree roots underfoot. Bracing myself, I find the entrance to the path by the road and plunge into the darkness. The trees loom close around me, and even though I've walked this path dozens of times this summer, I can't help but remember the last time I was here in the dark, alone. That first night in Stillwater, I was paralyzed by fear, but this time, I have no choice but to keep moving, stumbling over the dark path as I clutch my arms tight around me and try not to jump at every noise. The trees rustle around me, and every few seconds there's a new sound - a bird calling, a mysterious clatter or high-pitched animal call. I gulp, forcing myself onward. I need to find Ethan.

After what feels like forever, I reach the lake. It's lighter here, the moon reflecting off the black water, but still, the valley rises up in huge dark swathes on every side.

"Ethan?" I call, nervous. Part of me still wonders if something's lurking in the trees, but I clear my throat and call again, louder. "It's me. Jenna."

There's no reply, but as I edge farther into the open, I see a hunched figure, far down the sh.o.r.e. I hurry toward him.

"Ethan?" I call again, panicked. He's sitting in the lake, legs stretched in front of him. Water gently laps around him, soaking his jeans and the bottom of his s.h.i.+rt, but he doesn't seem to notice. "What are you doing?" I kick off my sandals and wade out. It's ice-cold, pebbles sharp against my skin. "Ethan, you're getting soaked."

He stays there, staring out at the dark.

"Ethan, come on back to sh.o.r.e at least." I s.h.i.+ver, placing one hand gently on his shoulder. He turns his head a little, like he's only just noticed me. "Come on," I say, trying to keep my voice calm and comforting. "Let's get out of the water."

He tilts his head forward a moment and then struggles to his feet. He stays there, looking out at the lake, and for a terrible moment, I think he's going to walk right out into deep water. Then, to my relief, he turns and follows me back, splas.h.i.+ng the few paces to sh.o.r.e.

We sink down on the gra.s.s, and I wait, anxious. "I'm sorry, Ethan. G.o.d, I'm so sorry!" The words come tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I told her, but I never thought she'd show up here, or be . . . such a b.i.t.c.h!" I swallow, a sharp pain inside as I think about what I've done to him. "But that's no excuse, I know. I made you a promise."

Ethan is motionless as the minutes slip by. I begin to worry that he's gone into some kind of shock: the real kind, from the trauma of his fight with Grady, and the fact that his whole life is splitting apart. But then, finally, he lets out a long sigh.

"It's OK," he says quietly.

"It's not!" I cry. "Ethan, how can you say that?"

"What else am I going to do?" He turns to me, and for a moment I think he's completely defeated, but then I see something else in his expression. The moonlight is shadowed on his face, but I think there's something . . . almost calm. "It's done. It's out now. I'm out," he adds with a bitter laugh. "It was always going to happen eventually."

"But not like this!" My voice sticks. He pats my shoulder - a faint, small gesture.

"It's done," he says again, resigned.

There's more silence.

"So, what . . . what happens now?" I still feel wretched. "Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I guess I just have to hope Grady comes around. Eventually. And doesn't tell my parents." He pauses. "G.o.d, my parents."

I reach over and take his hand, squeezing it fiercely. "You're going to be OK. And I hate it, that it's like this for you, but . . . you'll get through it." I hope to G.o.d that it's true. If only he were in a larger town, or even back in New Jersey. It would be hard there, sure, but there wouldn't be this same spectacle. He wouldn't be going through this alone.

A cloud drifts over the moon, and for a second, we're in the dark again: a thick blackness all around that I can almost touch. The lake swells against the sh.o.r.e with a low swoosh of sound, rhythmic and calming. It would be beautiful if the ugly fight from before wasn't lingering over us both.

"You want to know the weird thing?" Ethan asks, turning to me. His dark hair falls, messy over his eyes. "Before, when Olivia said what she did, I was standing there, and all I could feel was . . . relief. Like, it was finally out of my hands." He swallows, bringing his legs up against his chest. "All this time, I've been trying so hard to keep it secret. To stop everything from changing."

I sigh. "But you can't."

"Nope."

There's a pause. "Maybe this is good," Ethan says, as if he's trying to convince himself. "Maybe now I can figure out what comes next. How to be this guy."

"You're still you," I insist. I wish I could be around to support him through this. "What was it you said to me? That you didn't want this one part defining who you are. You're not just gay."

"I know." He gives me a weak smile. "But people, they don't see it like that."

"They should," I say fiercely, but something suddenly catches in my chest. Here I am, swearing that Ethan is more than his s.e.xuality, when I've been doing the same thing. Or rather, the opposite. My environmentalism, the Green Teens - I threw myself into them to fill this s.p.a.ce in me. I wanted to quiet the loneliness, and have some kind of power when life seemed totally out of my control, but without noticing, they became almost everything to me.

That's why Olivia changing has been such a shock, I realize, and why I've been so reluctant to see anyone else's point of view. Because if all I am is a Green Teen, what happens when I start questioning our ideals? What will life be like back in New Jersey without Olivia, or my old group, and all that purpose and direction I felt?

Ethan is quiet beside me, lost in his own troubles as I gaze out at the dark lake, thinking back to the meetings, the protests, all those hours I would spend writing letters and handing out pamphlets . . . It made me feel safer, as if I could make some small difference in this vast, scary planet. But for all that effort and energy, I've discovered that things aren't as simple as I thought. The slogans I chanted and the banners I waved don't even come close to addressing the real problems facing the world. The real answers are shades of gray, layered with compromise and priorities I can't even begin to grasp. I want to understand, but I know now that I'm not going to find any of those hard truths just cheerleading recycling drives or waving signs around at construction sites as if that's all it will take to make things better. It's a start, but there's so much more.

I let out a long breath. Ethan's right; my worries may not be as life-changing as his, but it's a relief to have the truth suddenly laid out in front of you. I've been clinging to my Green Teen ident.i.ty to give me someplace to fit. But I'm more than that. And so is he.

"It'll be OK," I tell him, and for the first time, I believe it for myself. "You'll figure it out."

He gives a dry laugh. "I guess there's no avoiding it. Avoiding anything."

We watch the water awhile, fingers laced together on the dew-damp ground. Then voices sound, back near the trees. We turn.

"Thank G.o.d!" Fiona hurtles toward us, lit up by the thin beam of a pocket flashlight. She's pulled on a light jacket, her hair falling out of its thin ponytail. "We've been looking for you forever!"

We?

Reeve emerges out of the shadows behind her. With Grady. He's looking down, scuffing his sneakers on the ground, but he's here.

I rise to my feet, anxious.

"It's OK." Fiona shoots a look back at Grady. "He's calmed down. There won't be any . . . any scenes. Right?" She thwacks his stomach. He nods reluctantly.

"Should we . . . ?" I look back at Ethan. He hasn't moved from his spot, but his face is even.

"Let's get back," Fiona decides, s.h.i.+vering. "We can cover for a few people, but they'll notice all of us missing soon."

I nod. This must mean Grady didn't tell. And if he hasn't told . . .

"You'll be OK?" I ask Ethan quietly, bending down.

He gives me a smile. "I'll live."

"No more late-night swims, you hear me?" I try to joke, but my fear must show, because suddenly, he reaches up and hugs me. I grip him tightly, but a second later, he pulls back.

"I'm good." He nods, trying to sound brusque. "You'd better go. Don't want them sending out a search party."

I edge away, leaving him curled up there on the sh.o.r.e, Grady lingering a few awkward paces behind him.

"Grady's really calmed down?" I ask Fiona, glancing back.

"I beat some sense into him. It was just shock, I think. I mean, they're brothers. He didn't even know . . ." She trails off. "But he's good now. He'll make it right."

I exhale, a weight lifting from me.

"You OK?" Reeve falls into step beside me as we make our way back into the forest. I blink. I must have registered his presence before, but this is the first time I notice him, looking at me with clear concern.

I nod. "You need to watch out for him," I tell Reeve. "All of you. He's going to need you guys." Again, I feel a pang that I won't be around. IM and cell phones only count for so much.

"It's cool." Reeve manages a smile, but I can barely make it out in the dark. "We've got this."

The tension in my chest eases a little more.

"But what about you?" Reeve presses. "I heard it got pretty ugly with Olivia."

I shrug, resigned. "I think . . . I think we're done. I mean, I can't ever forgive her, not for this."

"I'm sorry." His voice is low, sincere. A moment later, I feel his hand reach for mine. I pull back, but he takes it, firmly.

I look at Fiona, just a bobbing flash of light ahead of us. "I said I didn't want to sneak around anymore," I whisper. It all seems trivial after the dramas of the night, but I want to stand my ground.

"Does it look like I'm sneaking?" Reeve answers me in a normal voice. "Hey, Fiona," he adds, calling ahead. "Just so you know, I'm holding Jenna's hand back here!"

My mouth drops open.

"Whatever!" she calls back, bored.

"See?" He smiles at me again.

"What changed your mind?" I ask, trying to stay cool. But the feel of his body next to mine is warm and comforting, and after all this tension, it's a relief to relax against him.

"I was worried about you," he says, self-conscious. "When they said you took off into the forest. I was dumb, before." A pause. "I didn't want it to get messed up, like it did with Kate, so maybe . . . maybe I went too far, with the secret thing. I really thought you were OK with it. I'm sorry."

I meet his eyes, black in the shadows, and manage a smile. It doesn't mean much in the big picture, I know - just a few more days of kisses - but in another way, it's everything. I matter enough to him.

"OK," I say softly.

When we reach the road again, the B and B is lit up, full of warm light. Noise and music drift over to us, and through the windows, I can see people laughing. After the dark chill of the forest, it looks like a haven. A home.

Fiona waits for us to catch up. "So what's our story?"

Reeve looks around. "I figure we can just say we went out for an adventure. You know, a moonlit hike for Jenna, or something."

"And Ethan and Grady stayed behind," I agree, "to . . . I don't know, clean up."

Fiona shakes her head. "You guys are terrible liars."

"And that's a bad thing?" I protest. She smiles.

"Lucky you've got me around."

"Truly blessed." I link my arm through hers.

"So, official version," she begins, as we cross the dirt road. "We're having a sleepover at the Johnsons' tonight, to get out of Susie's hair. Ethan and Grady are back there, setting up, and we're just going to pick up our night things."

"That is a good story," Reeve agrees, on my other side. He's still holding my hand, even as we climb the porch steps and open the door to the packed, raucous party. "We should do it for real. Their parents will probably hang out here for ages. And we should be around, you know, for Ethan."