But that was so not me in this universe, and with a soft sigh I deliberately made sure that there was at least an inch of space between us.
"Thank you," I replied. "It's… beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, Caspian." He grinned at me again, and my heart melted into a puddle at my feet. Yes, I wanted to tell him, you have just made every single romantic fantasy I've ever had come true. But since Coward is my middle name, I kept my thoughts to myself.
I grew even shyer when his gaze wandered over me. Frantically hoping that my hair still looked as good as it had in my room, I tried to discreetly run my tongue over my teeth in case I had any lipstick smudges on them. "I wasn't sure what time to get here. You never mentioned it." I let my gaze do a bit of wandering too, and noticed that he was dressed in black jeans and a black long sleeve shirt. It suited him, made him look dark and mysterious. And sexy. Very, very sexy.
Was I drooling? Good Lord, I hoped not.
He shrugged. "I'm just glad you could make it. Whenever you got here was good enough for me. Did you have sweet dreams?"
I shrugged back, praying a telltale blush wouldn't betray me. "Yeah, sure, I guess I did. I don't really remember my dreams." Liar, liar, pants on fire.
"You didn't go through the cemetery, did you?" He looked concerned.
"No. I went along the main road."
"Good," he said softly. "Good."
I glanced down at the book he was holding. I couldn't read the title. "How long have you been here?"
"Since seven. I didn't want you to think I was standing you up."
"Since seven? Seven a.m." I felt both my eyebrows rise up into my forehead.
"Yeah." He ducked his head shyly and changed the subject. "So, do a lot of people normally come by here?"
"Not really. It's pretty sheltered under the bridge."
He turned and made a slight leading gesture in front of him with his book. "After you, then."
I led the way under the bridge, holding tightly to my flower, and the wind picked up on the water, blowing a cool breeze over us. I caught the slight fragrance of my vanilla shampoo wafting on the wind, and I was glad that I had picked something warm to wear.
We both sat down somewhat awkwardly, with a foot of space between us. I wanted to get closer but wasn't sure how to pull it off smoothly. Settling for "readjusting" my legs, I managed to lessen the space by an inch or two.
He didn't seem to notice at all.
I looked out at the river as I spoke. "So, what book were you reading before I got here?" Not exactly the most exciting of topics, but at least it was conversation.
"Great Expectations. I've already read it once before, but I'm sort of going back to pick up on all the things I missed. There are a lot of details."
I knew that one.
"Poor Pip and Estella," I sighed. "To be so unhappy for so many years? It kind of seemed cruel to keep bringing them together when they were younger since they could never be together in the end."
"Cruelness was the only reason why they knew each other at all, though," he pointed out. "Miss Havisham manufactured it that way to teach Estella to break hearts."
"I know," I agreed. "But don't you think true love should fix all? I don't know, maybe it's just the romantic in me…" I trailed off, realizing that the conversation was heading toward true love and happily-ever-afters. I didn't want to scare him off already.
"So did you think that the ending was believable?" I steered the conversation back to safer territory. "I really went back and forth on that one. Half of the time I thought it was pure genius, but the other half of the time I thought it was all too unbelievable. Like Dickens just picked the most unlikely twist and made the story work around that."
"I never thought about it that way, Abbey. I always pictured it as Dickens's way of portraying how a single moment can affect our lives so profoundly."
The intense look on his face made me burst out in laughter. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having talking about a book that had been mandatory reading material for school.
"I really didn't want to read it at first. It was assigned to us in eighth grade," I admitted. "Every day we were forced to read a chapter out loud to the whole class. It was sooo boring! And after we got to the part about the mysterious benefactor, this know-it-all kid told everyone who it was. I didn't believe him, so I took the book home that night and finished it. I was completely shocked when it turned out he was right."
"Oh, man." Caspian shook his head in disbelief. "What an idiot. But you must be a fast reader to have finished in one night."
"Well… I guess I am. I can usually finish a book in a day or two. In all fairness, though, I had to stay up most of the night and then finish the last chapter right before school the next morning."
"That's still pretty impressive."
His flattery charmed me. Am I good at anything else 1 could tell him about? I could make killer French toast… and crepes… and I know the names of all the vice presidents. No, no, too much about me. I didn't want him to think I had an ego the size of Manhattan.
"What about you?" I asked. "You must like reading too. I haven't met very many guys who would reread a book like Great Expectations, or any book for that matter, and then willingly discuss it. You're not secretly recording this conversation for a college term paper, are you?"
He grinned. "No, I just decided to read some of the classics. Enrich myself in literature. Expand my brain. I don't know…" He looked away. "I'm not a fast reader, so it kills a lot of time for me."
"Do you have a lot of time to kill? Aren't you in college or something?" I cringed when I heard my questions out loud. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's okay. I don't mind," he said. "I'm not going to college right now. I took some time off to… think about my options."
I didn't know what else to say, and we lapsed into silence. I racked my brain, trying to think of something else to talk about that didn't make me sound (a) boring or (b) stalkerish. So far I was drawing a blank. Then I thought about the cemetery behind us as inspiration.
"Have you lived in Sleepy Hollow long?" I asked him.
Ah, well, I never claimed to be the best conversationalist in the world.
"Actually, I'm from White Plains. I moved there about two and a half years ago, with my dad."
"Where did you move from?" I persisted.
"We moved from West Virginia. My dad got a job as the manager for an auto body shop. He's going to eventually take it over when the owner retires. New York offered better money than West Virginia, so we moved." He shifted the book he held from one hand to the other. "I transferred to the White Plains high school halfway through March and graduated the year before last. You go to Hollow High, right?"
"Yup." I gave a halfhearted sigh. "I'm a junior. I can't wait till graduation."
He was quiet for a moment, and then spoke again. "What about you, Abbey? Have you lived here long?"
"Born and bred. Mom and Dad grew up here, went to school together here, and got married here. The whole nine yards. I've never lived anywhere else."
"Wow." He laughed. "I bet you can't wait for college, then, to get out of this town."
I smiled at him. "Yeah, right? Actually, other than moving out of my parents' house, of course, I wouldn't mind staying here. Beautiful parks, scenery, this cemetery… and some of the best pizza I've ever tasted."
He laughed again, louder this time. It was a very nice laugh. "I agree with you on that one. New York definitely knows how to make good pizza."
We smiled shyly at each other.
"I want to start a business downtown," I blurted out. "I already have the store picked out for it and everything. It needs some work, but it has a beautiful bay window."
"Really?" He sounded surprised. "What type of business?" Suddenly I grew hesitant at the question. I'd already said too much. I couldn't believe I had just told him that. Kristen was the only other person I'd ever talked to about it.
"I'm not really sure
yet," I mumbled, looking away.
"No? No ideas at all?" he prodded gently. "I find it hard to believe that someone who already has the location picked out for her business doesn't have any ideas for what type of business to actually run there."
"Okay, okay," I groaned. "Yes, I have some ideas."
He cocked his head to one side, waiting patiently for me to finish.
I sighed. Since I've already come this far …
"I make perfumes, and I've thought about having a place where people can come and get their own scent custom made for them. I've also dabbled a bit in making soap and shampoo, although my last creation was a disaster and it will take a while before I get the formulas correct." The words came spilling out of me in a rush. "Basically I just want to have a little handmade bath and body shop, and call it Abbey's Hollow… in honor of Washington Irving." I peeked over at him, silently willing him not to say how stupid it all sounded. I wasn't up for rejection.
To his credit he didn't even look bored. "I like it."
"You do?" I asked him, a tiny bit shocked. "But what about the name? Do you think it's corny?"
"No. I don't think it's corny at all."
I gave him a tell-me-the-truth look.
"Seriously," he replied with a straight face. He leaned in a little closer to me, and his eyes held mine. "I really do like the idea, Abbey. I think it's great. And the name is the best part."
I didn't even think twice about telling him more. "I have a business plan started for it," I confessed. "But Mom and Dad are pushing me to go to some prestigious university. All I really want to do is take a couple of local business classes, and maybe apprentice with someone who runs their own herb shop. Or go to Paris and see what I can learn there." I shrugged halfheartedly. "I don't want to waste my life in school for something I have no interest in, you know?"
Another thought intruded, and I frowned. "Of course, all of my plans could end up going nowhere. Kristen was going to…" My voice caught, and I broke off. Looking down at the limp violet in my hand, I played with the stem and concentrated hard on not crying. "Kristen was going to help me with the shop. She had the most amazing ideas for the perfume labels and…"
A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye and I hastily wiped it away, trying not to smudge my makeup.
"It's okay, Abbey/' Caspian said softly. "Don't cry. I think it's a good idea to open your shop. You'll be making Kristen happy by continuing on with your dream."
"Do you think so?" I asked, trying vainly to keep the quiver out of my voice.
He nodded gravely and then deftly turned the conversation back to my parents. "What if you compromise with them?" he suggested. "If you tell your mom and dad what your ideas are now, then maybe they won't waste their time planning a different future for you. You never know. It's worth a shot."
What he said made an incredible amount of sense. The simplicity of it made me feel stupid for not thinking of it myself. "Thanks for the advice, Caspian. I never would have thought of such an obvious answer. It was right there in front of me the whole time."
"You're welcome," he said. "Sometimes all it takes is looking at the problem from a different angle. You can always ask my advice, Abbey. I'll try to help whenever I can."
Was I hearing more behind that statement than he actually meant? I couldn't tell.
I cleared my throat. Time to move on to happier things so I didn't drag the whole day down with my sniffling and crying. "Do you want to see something? There's a tiny waterfall on the other side of the bridge. We'll have to walk a little bit to reach it. It's sort of hidden." If he noticed my sudden change of topic, he didn't mention it.
"Okay." He put his book on the ground. "I guess I'll leave this here for now and come back for it."
"No one will run off with it," I reassured him with a grin before standing up. Carefully tucking the flower into my jean pocket, I tried to brush off the back of my sweater to remove any stray rocks or dirt that might be clinging on. I did not want to find out later that I had been parading around with pieces of nature all over my ass.
Caspian stood too and once again motioned for me to lead the way. Turning, I led him out from underneath the opposite side of the bridge and we settled into silence as we walked along the riverbank.
"Have you… read anything by Edgar Allan Poe?" I ventured. I had to keep him talking. He would think I was a freak if I just stayed silent the whole time. "I loved his story 'The Tell-tale Heart.' Talk about creepy."
"I'll have to check that one out," he said. "I've heard of 'The Raven,' but not that one."
"'The Pit and the Pendulum' is another good one. Look for that one too," I said. Am I actually getting better at this small talk thing? Maybe it was because he was so easy to talk to. And he loved books. Could he be any more perfect?
"I guess living in the town of Sleepy Hollow means that you've read the story by Washington Irving, then, right?" He stooped to pick up a small handful of tiny pebbles, rattling them around gently as he spoke.
"Are you kidding me? They teach it in first grade at the elementary school. This town idolizes Mr. Irving. His other stories were good, but nothing can top 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.'"
"I think it's cool that his house is near here. Talk about truly loving the town you live in."
I nodded my agreement. "He's buried here too. On a hillside in the Irving family plot." I paused to turn back and point in the general direction of the cemetery. "I stop by there a lot. I'll have to show it to you sometime."
"It's a date," he said softly, catching my eye.
"Okay. It's a date," I repeated back to him. The butterflies started swimming around in my stomach again, and I felt my cheeks start to burn. I ducked under a low-hanging tree branch, holding on to my hat with one hand while also trying to slow my racing heart.
Inhale and exhale. Think calm, cool thoughts. What he'd said was no big deal. It wasn't even an official I'11-pick-you-up-and-we'11-go-to-dinner date. I was simply going to show him an old tombstone. No big deal.
So then why did I feel like hyperventilating?
He interrupted my mini freak-out session. "I actually have a little confession to make. Wanna hear it?"
I was cool. I was calm. I could answer him now. I shrugged. Urn, YES! "Sure. What is it?" I was really getting good at this whole not-acting-too-eager thing.
"I haven't read the story yet," he said.
My brain must not have been functioning properly. That's the only excuse I have. "What story?" I asked dumbly.
He laughed. "You know, the story we've been talking about? 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'?"
I came to a dead stop and turned to face him. "Wait. What? Seriously? You've never read 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'? Good God, don't let the natives hear you say that. You'll be tied up and roasted for non-book-reading historical duty or something."
He winked at me, and I could almost hear the grin in his voice as he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I'll have to count on you, then, Abbey, to fill the gaps in my education before any of them find out. Think you're up to it?"
My cheeks burned fire, but I managed to keep my voice normal. "I guess I can… but let's wait until we get more comfortable."
Hearing my words, and immediately realizing all the wrong ways that they could be taken, I jerked back around and pitched forward. I was a freak. A complete and total freak of nature.
We reached a split in the path, and I led us to the left.
Squeezing between two large boulders, I motioned for Caspian to follow me as I tried to erase my words from just seconds ago. "Like I said, it's a tiny waterfall, but I still think it's pretty neat." We stepped all the way through, and a panoramic view spread before us.
Dozens of rocks had been spread out like giant stepping stones, and water rushed and pooled and trickled from one stone to the next. It ended with a free fall into a basin that was less than two feet deep.
I moved closer and settled onto a smooth, flat rock that offered the driest
surface. It was wide enough for two, but to my instant regret Caspian perched on a hollowed-out tree trunk beside me. He tossed his handful of pebbles into the river and they made loud plunking noises before sinking to the bottom.
Then he angled his body so that he was facing me. "So, about this legend…"
A large smile crossed my face and I forgot all about my embarrassment from before. This was my story. I knew it backward and forward, and I couldn't wait to tell the tale.
"It starts with this gangly schoolteacher named Ichabod Crane, who also happens to be the choirmaster, town gossip, and general all-around errand boy. After teaching his classes during the day, he went from house to house to gossip and tell ghost stories at night. One of the favored stories of the time was about a Hessian soldier who had lost his head and was rumored to haunt the bridge and cemetery by the church. He was named the Headless Horseman."
I watched to see if he was getting bored or restless yet, but Caspian's eyes were focused solely on me. His eyes were gorgeous, and I had to fight not to get lost in them. It took me a second to pick up where I'd left off.
"So Ichabod Crane is happy teaching his little school and being the gossip bringer, until one day he sees Katrina Van Tassel-daughter of Baltus Van Tassel-and falls madly in love with her. Of course, / think he probably fell in love with all the land, animals, and obvious wealth that Baltus displayed, but either way, he was bound and determined to have her."
I lowered my voice and gave it an ominous tone. "What Ichabod quickly realized, though, was that Katrina was a flirt and already had several suitors. The most popular one being Brom Bones. Brom was basically everything that Ichabod wasn't. Strong, well built, boisterous, and full of himself. A very manly man."
Caspian snorted, and I gave him a quick half smile.
"When Ichabod starts trying to court Katrina, Brom plays practical jokes on him. Terrorizing Ichabod's students, ransacking his schoolhouse, making fun of his singing voice… that type of thing. Then it all comes down to a big harvest celebration that the Van Tassels throw one evening. Ichabod is invited, and tries to finally win Katrina's hand. But something goes wrong, and Katrina turns him down. Brokenhearted, Ichabod leaves the party on his old, lame, borrowed horse, to wander home through the dark.
The Hollow Page 7
