OK, what’s up with that, and what is that I hear in his voice? A part of me feels rejected, a part of me relieved, and a part of me just wants to slap him. God, what a stupid combination of emotions to feel, especially since it’s not like I want to be more than friends with Neil. Maybe it’s just knowing he doesn’t want more that makes the female ego react contrarily, even when I don’t want Neil to be interested in me.
I peek at Neil out of the corner of my eye. Or maybe it’s just because he’s so freaking good looking, even if he’s all full of himself in that hot-guy way. Tussled sandy brown hair, bright green eyes, strong features, and perfect white teeth to top off his perfect tan. Nice body too. Tall, long limbs, lean defined surfer-type muscles. And he’s always so attractively understated and just a touch messy in how he dresses. Like the clothes he puts on don’t matter, and yet every garment he puts on loves him. He looks good in everything, even that stupid jump suit on campus he’s forced to wear while working.
That’s probably why my female ego felt a little prick after the you don’t have to worry about anything else comment. I probably wouldn’t have had any reaction if he wasn’t so damn good looking.
Near the top of the mountain we exit the highway onto a winding road that heads toward the ocean and begin a series of blind turns down a one lane road, heavily shaded by trees and cutting through rocks. Some of the giant boulders are covered with vivid green moss. It looks entirely different than the rest of Santa Barbara. Where are we? I’ve never been here before.
“I love it up here,” Neil says, and makes another left onto an even narrower, only gravel lined road.
We stop. All I see is forest and giant boulders. “Devil’s Playground? This is Devil’s Playground?” I asked, surprised.
Neil laughs. “I can’t believe you’ve never been up here. What kind of local are you? Josh and I spent half of high school up here. Smoking weed. Writing music. It’s my favorite place to get my head clear.”
He climbs from the car and quickly comes around to open my door. I stare. “So what do we do here?”
He points at the rocks. “There’s a path across the rocks to the cliffs. I guarantee you’ve never seen a view of Santa Barbara like this.”
My eyes grow round. “You want to hike across rocks to a cliff?”
Neil laughs. “Yep. Something tells me you’ll love it, Chrissie.”
He takes my hand and guides me to a rock. Effortlessly, he climbs atop. He offers his hand and I take it, but I’m not feeling at all sure about this. He pulls me easily up beside him. Jeez, it didn’t look that high, but it feels a lot higher standing on top of it.
“Just do what I do, Chrissie. It’s no big deal.”
Neil hops to the next rock. I follow. Neil hops. I follow. Jeez, they’re getting higher, the ground is farther away, and each hop a little tougher.
I stop. I stare across the gulf beneath me. “I don’t think I can make it.”
Neil smiles reassuringly. “Sure you can. My sister Kristy can do it. I haven’t lost anyone yet.”
I take in a deep breath and hop. I smile up at Neil. “You bring your sisters up here?”
“I used to. When I lived at home. Don’t see very much of them now that I’m in Berkeley.” He hops onto the next rock. He turns to wait expectantly. “I miss them, though. My sisters.”
I can see the edge of the mountain.
“Three more rocks and we’re there,” Neil says with heightened encouragement and enthusiasm.
I start to laugh. He sounds excited, like a little boy, and all we’re doing is jumping rocks to a cliff. He hops. I follow. He hops. I follow. He hops, and then I’m on the rock at the cliff.
Oh my god. I see what all the fuss is about and instantly understand why Neil loves this place. It’s like being on the edge of the earth, surrounded by no one, only forest below, then Santa Barbara in such detail I can see the streets, a hundred mile view of the Pacific Ocean coast line, and each Channel Island so clearly I can see the topography. Home looks entirely different from up here.
Neil sinks down to sit, hugging his knees. “Awesome, isn’t it? I can’t believe you’ve never been here.”
Smiling, I sink down beside him, sitting cross legged. “It’s incredible. Thank you for bringing me here.”
He reclines on an elbow and hip, long limbs relaxed, and the smile on his face is breathtaking. “The best things in Santa Barbara are free. Most people never get that.”
I laugh. “Why do they call it Devil’s Playground?”
Neil’s gorgeous green eyes twinkle. “Because if you miss a rock, you’re pretty much screwed, Chrissie. It’s a lot farther drop than you think.”
I hit him and he rolls away, laughing. I lie back against the rock, arms beneath my head, copying his posture.
“Why did you really quit the band and end up in Berkeley?” I ask.
Neil exhales heavily, exasperated, and then leans back up on his elbow. He studies my face.
“A relationship,” he admits haltingly. “I’ve had one of those on-again off-again things going since I was fifteen. Worst kind of relationship. The kind you can’t seem to make work or make end. We were on again, so I left the road for San Francisco and we were off again right after we got there. I’m still getting over it, Chrissie. Shit got crazy this time. It kind of fucked me up for a while.”
I smile. It surprises me that he told me this. “I’m sorry. It sucks to care about someone you can’t make it work with.” I study his face. “Why did you tell me this? It’s the first personal thing you’ve told me.”
He brushes the hair back from my face. “I wanted you to know it’s not you. That’s not why I’m not interested in anything. If I wanted a relationship with a girl, it would be you. You’re pretty cool.”
I blush, the compliment throwing me completely off balance. Cool: I never expected that to be what Neil Stanton thought of me. I always feel terminally uncool. An outsider.
He looks away and settles back against the rock. “I also figured you’d get it. You’re still hung up on Alan Manzone. We’re both in love with people not good for us. People we can’t be with. I think that makes us perfect together. I figure if we hang together, we’ll end up really good friends.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I wait in the driveway as Neil walks to the car. He sinks into the passenger seat and slams his door shut.
I smile. “Where to?”
“Up the mountain. Everyone is up at Knapp’s Castle. We can just go there. Hang out. If you want to.”
Everyone? OK Neil, who is everyone? And what the heck is Knapp’s Castle? Never heard of it. I put the car in reverse.
“OK. Sounds fun.”
He says nothing. I start driving down the road. Fine. Just sit there silently beside me, Neil. It doesn’t bother me any longer.
We’ve spent every day of the last three weeks together. I’ve given up making suggestions on how we should kill time. I wonder if that’s all Neil is doing being with me; killing time until he returns to Berkeley. It should probably bother me, but it doesn’t.
I’ve really had a good winter break with Neil, and when it started I thought this month would be miserable. A new Chrissie low.
I roll to a stop at an intersection, pleased with how well I’m shifting my dad’s car these days. It took an entire afternoon in a parking lot, but Neil finally got me into the swing of things with a stick shift so I wouldn’t bring my dad’s car home without its transmission. Neil is a really patient guy. Even Jack couldn’t teach me this.
I merge onto the freeway and Neil is still silent. He seems tense, and a touch preoccupied. He hasn’t even looked at me once since we pulled from his folk’s driveway. He just sits there, staring out the window. What’s up with that?
We roll to a stop at the lights in the downtown stretch of freeway. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes. All the time we’ve spent outdoors has darkened his tan to a rich bronze. It makes his bright green eyes just pop from his face. There are more sun streaks in his brown hair. Probably because of all the saltwater and surfing. I like that he never pulls the long waves into a ponytail. Some guys are made for long, messy hair. Neil is definitely one of them. Even that outfit seems to make him look better. He’s wearing a pair of faded shorts, a baggy t-shit, and flip flops. He looks hot today, even sitting there all distant and jerk-like.