Ask Me by Kimberly Pauley

have to bother tonight. I only saw one vehicle, a Chevy Suburban, on the far side of the lot, and it looked empty. Jade’s murder was likely keeping everyone inside. A few people were off drowning their sorrows at the party I’d heard Tank was having tonight. He was calling it a wake for Jade, but that was only an excuse to get wasted.
    If Granddad knew this was where I’d gone, he’d probably be mad. But I needed to get away and the woods were my favorite escape.
    I walked down one of the paths that flirted with both the edge of the lake and the forest surrounding it. It was getting dark, but I always kept a flashlight in my car for times like these. Even when everything was quiet, the forest still murmured: little furry things rustling throughfallen leaves, the wind in the branches, every now and then a deer leaping away in confusion. All those little noises made me feel less alone, like I was a part of something in some way. Something I couldn’t hurt or ruin.
    I walked gently, taking care not to disturb anything. When I was younger, I had practiced my “Indian” walk; balancing lightly on the balls of my feet and rolling into a step rather than just setting my feet down. After years spent walking in the woods by myself, I was as close to silent as you could get. Of course, the woods here were different than ones I had grown up in. Very few pine needles, for starters. The feeling was the same, though.
    The deeper I went, the darker the woods became. I finally switched on my flashlight when I stepped on a twig, and the sharp snap sent a sleepy bird to chirping. I was almost to my favorite spot on the lake, the place where the trail dipped back to the shore halfway around from the beach area. There was a tree there that had grown crooked. Over the years it had formed itself into a knobby bench where you could sit and watch the lake but be far enough away to keep anonymous if there were any beachgoers. I turned the final corner before my tree. I had my flashlight pointed at the ground so I wouldn’t trip over the big cypress root I knew was lying in wait in the middle of the path. It had gotten me more than once.
    “Who’s there?” a voice called.
    I brought my flashlight up to shine on the tree, managing to stub my toe on the root at the same time after all. It was Alex, possibly the last person I had expectedto see. The light illuminated him in a hazy glow. He blinked against it. I caught myself against another tree, and I juggled the flashlight in suddenly clumsy hands. If it weren’t for my problem, I might not have managed a reply at all. But I said,
“La voce della verità.”
Whatever that meant. I cleared my throat and spoke louder. “It’s Aria. Just Aria.”
    “What are you doing here?” he asked. “You’re not following me, are you?”
    I couldn’t tell for sure, but he sounded more bemused than annoyed. “Looking for peace,” I responded, relieved the truth didn’t sound too stupid. “I don’t follow anyone.” I got the flashlight under control and righted myself, pointing the light in his direction again. He squinted, not bothering to hold up a hand to block the light from his eyes. I lowered the beam.
    It was my turn to ask a question. “What are
you
doing here?”
    “Just … remembering.”
    I heard a
clink
as he shifted on the tree and allowed the flashlight beam to drift lower. He was grasping the neck of a nearly empty bottle of vodka. He shifted, trying to hide it behind his back, but almost dropped it instead.
    Oh
, I thought.
    “I’m sorry. I guess I should leave you to it.” The beam of light wobbled.
    “Whatever,” he said, looking away.
    I hesitated. He wasn’t asking me to stay, but he hadn’t told me to go. I took a step closer to him. He shrugged and took a swig from the bottle, swaying slightly. I kept going.What was I doing? I sat down near his feet, not willing to sit next to him on the tree. It was comfortable for one but far too close for two. I set the