by Amanda Ashby
“No.” He shook his head. The onslaught of text messages from both his parents had stopped, and he suspected it would go back to business as usual. Where they got on with their own lives, and he appeared in their spare rooms from time to time.
But right now it didn’t sting as much.
“I talked to him this afternoon. He’s going to call. Let me know when you’ve spoken to him.”
“Sure. Though I’ve got my sound disabled so that lot won’t wake up.” He nodded to the other bunk where Lulu and Theo were crashed out.
“It will take an air siren to make them stir. I’m going to hit the hay. Those kids are exhausting. Sleep well.”
“Will do,” he said, and flicked off the light. There were no curtains, and moonlight flooded in through the window by the bed. He shifted and stared at the night sky. Then he turned back to his phone and brought up the last photo Via had sent him.
She’d taken to adding bunny ears to every photo of him she had on her phone.
The fact she had photos of him at all still blew his mind. But after they’d spent the morning swimming, they’d met up at the trees behind the cabins and spent the afternoon talking. Not about anything much.
But somehow about everything.
Another text message came in.
I had fun today.
Me too, he replied, liking that she never abbreviated anything in her messages.
Never thought I would enjoy this place.
He swallowed as he traced his finger across the screen. He was almost certain she didn’t enjoy canoeing. Or hiking. Did that mean…
His phone buzzed, and it wasn’t Via. It was his dad.
Ruth said he was going to call. Tough. He was sick of the drama between his parents. He declined it, and then his finger slid across the screen and brought up Via’s name. She was the only person he wanted to talk to.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey.”
“I’m not sure why I’m calling,” he murmured, and stared out at the night sky. Stars glittered down on him. So familiar.
“I’m pleased you did.” Her voice was low, as if she was trying not to wake anyone in her own cabin.
“Yeah, me too.” He ran a hand through his short hair, still not sure why he’d called her.
Liar.
It was because when he was with her, things were better.
“Today was…really great.” Her voice was breathy.
“It was,” he said, and smiled as a familiar star flickered out at him. “I’m looking at the sky right now. I can see your star.”
“You have a star for me?”
“Now who’s the weird one?” He winced. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut?
“It’s not weird,” she said in a slow voice. Down the other end of the phone was a rustle of sheets and the sound of footsteps. “I’m at the window. Which star is mine? Is it Gemini? The twins.”
“Way too obvious. Plus, no offense to Zac, but I don’t think of him when I look at the sky.”
She giggled. “He’s so vain he’d probably be offended, but I’m not.”
He held a finger up to the window even though she wasn’t with him. “It’s Vega.”
“Part of the summer triangle.” She let out a soft sigh. Heat pounded in his chest. That’s why he liked smart girls.
One smart girl.
“It’s easier to see it out here. The sky’s darker than at home. Different.”
“Lots of things are different here,” she said, then paused. “Tomorrow night everyone does this dumb movie night out by the lake.”
“The kids have been talking about it all day.” He’d been planning to ditch it since it involved tap-dancing squirrels who were trying to make it big on Broadway. “Are you going?”
“I usually do, but Zac and some of his friends are doing a bonfire…we could go there—” She broke off and paused again. Twice in a minute. His heart thudded. Was she nervous?
“Or,” he said in a low voice, “we could go somewhere else. I doubt anyone would notice.”
The line went silent, and his spine stiffened.
There was a small chance he’d messed everything up. Like nuclear fallout messed up. Definitely enough to be visible from space.
“A-are you asking me on a date?”
“I guess. Though there won’t be any dinner. Or movies. Or anything at all. Just me.”
There was more silence and a rustling noise. “Sounds like a date. And yes.”
“Really?” His whole body went tight. Did she say yes?
“Definitely,” she replied.
Then they were silent, though he could still hear her breathing from down the other end. He pinched himself. Pain shot through his arm, but he grinned. It was real. She’d said yes. They were going out on a date.
7
This was a mistake. A big, big mistake. Had she really agreed to go on a date? How was it even possible?
But she knew the answer.
Because with him she wasn’t the weird smart girl. Zac’s freaky sister. She was herself. Just a pity she hadn’t had much practice at it.
Could she plead insanity? She dragged off the cute fitted T-shirt Frankie had talked her into buying and replaced it with an oversized one. If she dressed up, then everyone would know. She might as well have an arrow pointing over her head.
Hey, look at me.
I want to kiss Hudson Trent.
Even though I’ve never kissed a boy before.
She swallowed. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she could talk to Zac about, and Frankie wasn’t answering her phone. It might not even happen.
But she wanted it to.
And he had a star for her.
She dragged the oversized T-shirt off and put the cute one back on, making her hair go static. There was a small chance she was losing her mind. She stared in the restroom mirror. The shirt was blue and had a scooped neck. Instead of a bra, she had on a bikini top that had never seen the light of day, but now the straps were peeking out. It was typical summer wear. Though not for her. Until now.
She teamed it with her denim skirt, then grabbed one of Zac’s hoodies. It almost reached her knees, and if she needed to cover up, it would do the job just fine.
She was ready. Her parents had gone to watch the movie and no doubt make out, and Zac had gone off to his bonfire. She’d vaguely promised that she’d go to one or the other.
She stepped outside and swallowed. The day was fading, turning the twilight into a soft purple haze. Lights glittered down by the lake, and shadowy figures were trailing toward the large movie screen that had been set up.
Footsteps sounded behind her and she spun. Hudson? But it was a girl with long blonde hair pulled back from her face and cascading down her back like a waterfall. Diana.
“Hey, you. Zac’s sister. Tell him he’s pond scum. Total lowlife.” Diana came to a halt and glared at her. Via winced. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on the receiving end of one of Zac’s conquests.
“Look—” she started to say, but Diana held up her hand and marched over to where several other girls were waiting. They let out a defiant burst of laughter and disappeared in the direction of the bonfire. Via sent her brother a quick text to let him know there was an angry blonde heading in his direction, and then scanned around for Hudson.
He was nowhere. Had he changed his mind?
Her phone buzzed and a text message came in.
I’m at your favorite place.
She frowned. Her favorite place involved electricity and Wi-Fi. There was nothing about Camp Doom she liked—
The tree. Where she’d hidden from him several times.
And where she’d literally fallen for him.
If she met him there, no one would see them walking together.
Because he knew that made her uncomfortable. Warmth filled her as her thumbs flew across the screen.
On my way.
Night birds sang out and insects darted past as she walked down the side of the cabi
ns and to the copse behind the campsite. The grass, dried out from the long summer, rustled beneath her sneakers, and the violet sky was darkening to a pale gray as the silvery white moon rose up above the lake. She used her phone to guide her, then put it away as she stepped into the clearing.
Hudson was leaning against the tree, while a picnic rug was spread out nearby with a couple of sodas and bowls of covered food. Candles were dotted around, sitting in old jam jars and tins. Romantic, but no chance of a fire. Her heart pounded.
She walked toward him. A half smile slid onto his lips as his gaze swept across the T-shirt that hugged her chest.
“Wow.” His voice was soft against the darkening night. “Via, you look amazing.”
“Thanks.” Heat prickled her skin and she had no idea what to do with her hands. Hands were stupid. Who even invented them? She thrust them into her pockets, with the hoodie hooked over her left arm.
“I’m really pleased you came.”
“A movie about tap-dancing squirrels? Not a hard decision.” She kept her voice light.
“I can work with that.” He grinned and reached for a crutch to swing himself over to the picnic rug. “I believe our table is ready.”
“Very impressive.” She sat, curling her legs under her. He eased himself down, ankle stretched out in front of him.
His face was in the half shadows, all angles and edges.
“The menu is soda and chips. Oh, and I stole a couple of chocolate dessert cups. Though they have the texture of primordial sludge and should only be consumed under advisement.”
“I’m good.” She shook her head, knowing she’d only manage to spill anything if she held it. In the distance someone was playing guitar. Probably from Zac’s bonfire. “Did you have fun with your aunt and uncle today?”
“If you’ve seen one playground, you’ve seen them all.” He shrugged. “What did you guys do?”
“Torture by tennis. The only cool part was stopping at a bridge on the way. It’s right on the San Andreas fault line and constantly needs repairing,” she said, fumbling for her phone and swiping the screen. “Here.”
His eyes were bright against the flickering candlelight as he studied the photo where the metal rail was twisted around from the damage.
“That’s why I like you, Via,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You know the difference between the railing being hit by a truck and twisted by a fault line. And the difference between a star and a constellation.”
She swallowed. He liked her?
Like liked?
“Hudson—”
“You don’t have to answer,” he quickly cut in, and stared at the star-filled sky.
She studied the curve of his neck. His Adam’s apple protruding as he swallowed.
“What if I want to answer?”
There was silence between them and he turned, catching her gaze in his. Her skin prickled.
“What would you say?”
“I like that when I’m with you, I don’t feel weird,” she said. Now whose voice sounded hoarse?
“Weird? Anyone who thinks you’re weird is a moron. You’re smart…and beautiful.”
In the distance a chorus of voices joined the guitar, while night insects chittered all around them.
And he thinks I’m beautiful.
She leaned forward and traced the line of his mouth, suddenly knowing what to do with her hands. His eyes widened in understanding, and he edged himself up on one elbow.
“I want to kiss you,” she confessed. “But I’ve never kissed anyone before. I don’t want to mess it up.”
“You couldn’t. Not even if you tried.”
“I could. I researched it.”
“You researched how to kiss? What did you find?”
“There’s a lot that can go wrong. It appears to be a logistical nightmare,” she said as the night around them faded away to nothing. He reached up and touched her hand.
“I could help.”
“I’d like that,” she whispered as his face moved closer to her. Soap and cinnamon caught in her nose, and her heart pounded as his lips brushed hers.
Oh, boy.
His mouth found hers again and the sky exploded. Part of her mind tried to tell her it wasn’t possible for the sky to explode, but she ignored it and kissed him back. When they pulled away, his gaze held hers.
“How was that?”
“Inconclusive,” she murmured as he pressed his nose to hers. As he kissed her again, his mouth was turned up into a smile. She had no idea what she’d been scared of.
8
“You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself,” Ruth said the following afternoon as Hudson stepped into the cabin. He held up his hands to show he’d walked without the crutches. Not that it was the real reason he was smiling.
Nope. It was because last night he’d kissed Via.
And she kissed me back.
He could still feel her skin pressed against his, the scent of coconut and apples in his nose. He’d been out with his aunt and uncle while they bought groceries, and he hadn’t spoken to her all day, but they’d arranged to meet up later, when everyone was taking part in a campsite match of hide-and-seek. He swallowed.
Probably best not to think too much about it. He limped over to the seat he’d been heading toward and sat down. His ankle was now just a dull ache.
“Yup, I’ve mastered walking three steps. Go me,” he said as Ruth sat down at the other side of the table. Her mouth was set in a serious line.
“I’ve been speaking to your dad. He’s been trying to call you for two days. Any chance you’re going to answer him?”
“Can I say no?” Hudson said, his good mood fading.
“Actually, you can.” She shrugged. “Hudson, I’m not the boss of you. But…I know he really wants to talk. It’s important.”
“Fine.” He toyed with his phone as Ruth stood up.
“I’ll give you some space.”
“Thanks.” He reluctantly swiped the screen and made the call. His dad answered on the third ring.
“Oh, hey, buddy,” he said in a breathy voice. Like he’d been running. “I was starting to get worried about you. How’s the ankle?”
“Fine,” Hudson said in a tight voice as he stretched out his legs. Outside he could hear Ruth chatting to the kids, probably trying to keep them out of the cabin. He forced himself to be polite. “How’s Seattle?”
“Good. Actually…that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” His dad sounded cautious. Almost nervous. “There’s no easy way to say this. Lexi’s been offered a great job up here. That’s why we were delayed coming back. We’ve been looking at houses, and yesterday our offer was accepted.”
Hudson’s stomach clenched, and the room began to spin.
His dad had bought a house? In Seattle. As a rule, people didn’t tend to do that unless…
“You’re moving there?” His voice sounded tight and angry, even to his own ears. Good. Because that summed up how he felt. His dad was literally moving, without even bothering to mention it until after it had been decided.
Like it didn’t even matter.
Like I don’t matter.
“I know it seems quick. Truth is, buddy, Cricket Bay was always your mom’s idea, not mine. And there’s more opportunity here for me and Lexi.”
And it was over a thousand miles away. His head pounded.
“When’s the big move?”
“A few weeks. And you can come here on your school breaks,” his dad said in a rush, like it was a rehearsed script. A problem that needed fixing. It was probably number four on the to-do list. Hudson shut his eyes and nodded.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“So, we’re good?”
“Great,” he agreed in a dull voice.
His dad stayed on the call for another ten minutes, talking about the house, about how great Seattle was. About all kinds of things Hudson didn’t bother to listen to. Once he’d ended the call he reached for his crutches and headed for the door.
Ruth was waiting.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Fine,” he said in a cool voice. “It’s not a big deal. I just need some air.”
“Sure. Come and see me when you’re ready.”
He headed in the direction of the lake.
Why was he surprised? Even when his dad lived in Cricket Bay he was forever cancelling the nights Hudson was meant to stay. Between his job and his new wife, he was always busy. This was standard operating procedure.
His phone beeped with a text.
He dragged it from his pocket and stared at the screen.
It was his mom. Of course it was.
That man is unbelievable. This isn’t acceptable.
Here they went again. He turned his phone to “Do Not Disturb” and thrust it back into his pocket. Then he stabbed the crutches into the dirt, swinging himself forward. His mom was only pissed she now had a full-time son again. It might cramp her style. It was a familiar conversation.
Still. Nothing would really change. He’d just be getting in the way of one person now, not two. Anger caught in his throat. Today really sucked.
xxxx
An hour later his muscles stung with pain, but Hudson ignored it as he thrust the paddle into the water. His ankle meant he couldn’t walk or run or kick anything. But he could use his arms. So he’d dragged a canoe onto the lake and started rowing, three facts spinning around in his head competing for air time.
He’d kissed Via. She’d kissed him back.
And his dad was moving.
The wind skittered across the water, and the sky began to darken. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of long dark hair fluttering in the wind near the shore.
Via.
At the sight of him, she lifted an arm and waved.
The tightness in his chest eased. Maybe he should have gone to see her first. Would have saved a hell of a lot of exercise.
He held the paddle up in the air to return the gesture, and then thrust it back into the water and rowed to the shore.
