I looked down the pier to the boardwalk and the road beyond it, the streetlights breaking up the dark. ‘Nah,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll grab some more coffee before I head home.’
‘More coffee?’ Esther said, eyeing my cup. ‘Doesn’t that keep you up, though?’
I shook my head. ‘Nope. It doesn’t.’
At the end of the pier, we said our good-byes, and they headed back to the car. I could hear them still talking, their voices carried by the wind, as I turned and started in the other direction, back to the Gas/Gro, where I was the only customer as I filled up a fresh cup, adding milk, a stirrer, and, after a moment of consideration, a candy bar. The cashier, an older woman with blonde hair and a name tag that said WANDA, was working on a crossword. She put it down, then rang me up while stifling a yawn.
‘Late night,’ she said as I slid my money across to her.
‘Aren’t they all,’ I replied.
Out in the parking lot, the wind was warm and blowing hard, and for a moment I just closed my eyes and stood there, feeling it on my face. Earlier that night, I’d taken off to be alone, only to find – to my surprise – that company was just what I needed. Still, I knew it must have been hard for Maggie to come looking for me, not knowing how I’d react when I saw her. The easiest thing would have been to just leave me alone. But she didn’t go for the easiest thing.
I was a girl who liked a challenge, too. Or at least I liked to think of myself that way. So I went looking for Eli.
On the way to the boardwalk, I passed a cop, driving slowly, his radio crackling. Two girls, arm in arm, one stumbling, the other pulling her forward. The bars still had an hour or so left until closing, with people and music spilling out their open doors. Farther down into the business district, though, all the stores were dark. But in the bike shop, way in back, a light was on.
I raised my hand to knock, then dropped it, reconsidering. So I’d spent a night in the world of girls, big deal. Did it really mean anything had changed, especially me? As I stood there, debating this, I saw someone move across the lit, open back door of the shop: dark hair, blue shirt. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand was rapping the glass, hard.
Eli looked up, his face wary. When he came closer and saw it was me, he didn’t really look relieved. Or surprised, actually. He unlocked the door, pushing it open. ‘Let me guess,’ he said. ‘You want to learn to ride a bike, and it can’t wait until morning.’
‘No,’ I said. He dropped his hand from the door, and just stood there, looking at me. I realized he was waiting for me to explain myself. ‘I was in the neighborhood, saw the light.’ I held up my coffee, as if this proved something. ‘Long night, and all that.’
He studied my face for a moment. ‘Right,’ he said finally. ‘Well, come on in.’
I stepped through the door, and he shut it, locking it behind me. I followed him through the dark shop to the back, which was some kind of repair area. There were parts of bikes up on stands, wheels leaning against workbenches, a pile of gears on a table, tools everywhere. In one corner, where a bike was partially assembled, a handwritten sign said ADAM’S WORKSPACE – TOUCH AND DIE! with a skull and crossbones underneath it.
‘Have a seat,’ Eli said, waving a hand at a stool right beside this.
‘Seems dangerous.’
He glanced at the sign, then rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not.’
I sat down, my cup in hand, as he slid behind a nearby cluttered desk, which was piled with papers, various bike parts, and, not surprisingly, a collection of empty soda bottles and various convenience-store items. ‘So,’ he said, picking up an envelope and glancing at it, ‘you say you’re not here for a bike.’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Then what? You’re just out walking the boardwalk in the middle of the night?’
Eli doesn’t talk, Leah had said. To anyone. Ever. But he had to me, and maybe that did mean something, even if it wasn’t clear just what.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I just… I thought you might want to talk, or something.’
Eli shut the drawer, slowly, and looked at me. The click noise it made seemed very loud. ‘Talk,’ he said, his voice flat.
‘Yeah.’ He was just sitting there, staring at me, expressionless, and I felt not unlike when my mom got me in her sights, a serious squirm coming on. ‘You’re up, I’m up. I just figured…’
‘Oh, I get it,’ he said, nodding. ‘Right. You know now.’
‘Know…’ I said.
He shook his head. ‘I should have known when I saw you at the door. Not to mention at that party. Maggie isn’t exactly known for holding back information.’
I just sat there, not sure what to do. I said, ‘Look, I’m sorry. I just thought…’
‘I know what you thought.’ He picked up a stack of papers, rifling through it. ‘And I appreciate you wanting to help me, or whatever. But I don’t need it. Okay?’
I nodded numbly. Suddenly the room seemed too bright, illuminating every single one of my failings. I slid off the stool. ‘I should go,’ I said. ‘It’s late.’
Eli looked over at me. I remembered how that first night, I’d thought of him as haunted, before I even knew this was true. He said, ‘Do you want to know why I talk to you?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I do.’
‘Because,’ he said, ‘from that first day on the boardwalk, you were different. You never tiptoed around me, or acted all weird and sorry for me, or gave me that look.’