Ghost Town Page 0,96

game of Monica's, but this is low even for her--"

"Shane, Monica didn't do this, and it's not a game! Shane! Listen!"

"I've listened enough to you!" he yelled, and shoved her so hard she fell and almost cracked her skull on Marvis Johnson's memorial stone. "You stay the hell away from me and my family, you crazy bitch! This is sick! This is fake!"

He tried to push over Alyssa's tombstone. It didn't move. He kicked at it, panting, and Claire lay where she was, watching him, heartsick. She'd thought maybe this would convince him, maybe it would force him to remember . . . but he didn't. He couldn't.

"Please," she whispered. "Please stop, Shane. Stop hurting yourself; I can't stand it."

He collapsed against his sister's tombstone and just sat there, his back to Claire. His shoulders were shaking. She got up and went to kneel beside him. He looked destroyed, just . . . broken. She put her hand on his shoulder.

He didn't hit her, at least. He didn't seem to notice she was still there. He was pale and shaking and sweating, and hunched in on himself as if somebody had punched him really, really hard. "She can't be," he said. "She can't be dead. I just . . . I just saw her. She was making fun of my shirt. My shirt . . ." He looked down at himself, pulled his T-shirt out, and said, "I wasn't wearing this. This isn't even my shirt. This is wrong. This is all wrong."

"I know," Claire said. "I know it feels that way. Shane, please come back with me. Please. I'll show you the room you have in Michael's house. You'll recognize some of the things in there; maybe it'll help. Come on, get up. You can't stay here; it's cold." He didn't move. "Alyssa wouldn't want you to stay here."

"Why didn't she get out?" he asked. "If there was a fire, how did I get out if she didn't? I wouldn't leave her. I wouldn't do that. I couldn't . . . just . . . run--"

"You didn't," Claire said, and put her arm around him. "You tried to save her. You told me, Shane. I know how hard you tried."

He finally swiped at his eyes and looked at her. "I don't even know you," he said. "Why are you doing this?"

There it was again. How could her heart keep on breaking? Why didn't it just do it once and get it over with? Claire struggled to keep the hurt she felt from echoing in her voice. "I know you think you don't," she said. "But honest, Shane, you do know me. We're . . . friends."

He stared at her for what seemed like the longest time, and then he said, "I'm sorry I pushed you. I don't . . . I don't do things like that."

"I know."

"Is it true? Is Lyss really . . ."

Claire just nodded without speaking. Shane's hair blew in his face, but he didn't blink. She reached over without thinking and moved it back. He caught her hand against his face.

"You touch me a lot," he said. "Don't you?"

She looked down and felt the blush mounting in her face. "I guess I do," she said. "I'm sorry." She risked a quick look up at him. He was studying her, as if he were really seeing her for the first time. "What?"

"Are we going out?"

She nodded. He didn't say anything at all. She didn't know how to feel about that. Before she could think how to ask what he was feeling, he stood up, and she hurried to do the same.

"So I have amnesia," he said. "That's what you're telling me. I got some kind of kick in the head and I lost a bunch of time and forgot all this. And you."

That was . . . so much easier than what she'd been trying to say. "Yes." She nodded. "Amnesia. That's why you need to trust me, Shane. It's dangerous out here. You don't know how dangerous."

For the first time, he gave her an ironic expression she recognized--classic Shane. "It's Morganville. Of course it's dangerous." He glanced back down at Alyssa's headstone, and that moment of the Shane she knew flickered and almost disappeared. Almost. "She wouldn't want me moping around the cemetery like some dumb-ass. Alyssa wasn't like that. She'd make fun of me if I did." Shane took in a deep breath. "So I guess . . . I guess I can go