hear my footsteps, but she kept right on ranting loud and clear. In a ridiculous tone that sounded nothing like my voice, she mocked, “Hey, I’m Camden Cole. Have some worms. I have a bazillion.” She groaned and flapped her swinging arms. “I don’t want your worms! I want my own damn worms. And maybe more than four dollars’ worth.” She let out a frustrated growl but just kept marching. “I bet Camden had chips with his dinner. He probably even got dessert. Eating chocolate cake in his stupid shoes and fancy shirt.”
My whole body jerked, and I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as if I’d hit an invisible brick wall.
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
She thought I was rich. That was the kiss of death.
She didn’t know I’d had to buy those shoes myself. And yes, I knew exactly how ugly they were, and given the opportunity, I would have thrown them in a bonfire. But my dad didn’t bitch at me when I wore them to church and that alone made them worth their weight in gold.
My breath caught when suddenly she cut into the woods. On the sidewalk, I could have pretended to be out for a nightly stroll. She didn’t own the whole town. But if I got caught following her into those woods, it would have been far past the realm of coincidence.
I clenched my teeth as I watched her disappear on that dark, moonlit trail. I should have gone home. I should have left her alone, given up on the worm thing, and spent the rest of my summer trying to become the man my parents and grandparents were so desperate for me to be.
But even knowing all that, my feet didn’t budge.
My heart thundered in my ears, and I stood at a crossroads. She was a complete stranger, yet my draw to her was like the moon pulling in the tides.
Years later, I’d still debate why I’d followed her that night. I wasn’t mad anymore and she’d gotten far enough ahead that I couldn’t hear her ramblings—good or bad. But for reasons I’d never be able to explain, my feet slid into her footprints on the dirt path.
She was a good bit ahead of me, but I did my best to keep quiet just in case. The woods weren’t as thick as I'd assumed, and before long, porch lights from houses on the other side of the wood line illuminated our way. I wasn’t tall by any means, but my legs were longer than hers, so I gained ground quickly. More than once, I slipped behind a tree for fear she’d heard me.
Through it all, she just kept walking, her eyes forward and her brown hair swaying across her back.
Stalking aside, it was nice and peaceful on that trail.
That all changed when the sound of a man’s voice boomed through the silence. I froze, my brain struggling to figure out which direction it had come from, but Nora took off at a dead sprint.
I darted after her, and with every step, the shouting grew louder. Slurred cuss words soared through the air like wobbly arrows, escorted by an off-pitch symphony of grunts and grumbles. My feet pounded against the trail, sticks cracking and leaves rustling, but she never looked back.
Nora exited the woods first, her plastic bags looped around her wrists, smacking her legs as she ran across a yard of unkept grass straight toward a small ranch home with paint peeling off the crooked shutters. There was a broken windowpane covered by plywood on the front of the house, and the crack in the front door was visible even from yards away.
For a brief second, the night fell silent, so I ducked behind a tree to watch her while I caught my breath. I found no oxygen because no sooner than Nora reached the door did it swing open, nearly cracking her in the face. A man with messy, brown hair and a beer gut stumbled out, crashing into her. His hands snaked out, but not to catch her. He pushed her hard, sending her small body sailing.
On instinct, I lurched from behind my tree, but a boy, who I assumed was her brother because he looked just like her only a lot bigger, plucked her off the ground and dragged her behind him.
“Don’t you ever fucking touch her again!” the boy yelled.
The disheveled man used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and slurred, “I should gut you both. No