The Garden

by Amy Sparling

  He gives me a questioning look. An are you okay? look.

  I hold out a thumbs up behind Belle’s back. I’ve told him before that I live with my cousin and that she doesn’t go outside. He didn’t ask for any details and I wasn’t volunteering them, but I’m glad he knows to stay quiet now. One random unexpected person might send my cousin into another panic attack.

  Belle doesn’t talk much as we walk fifteen minutes through the gardens to the other side of the campus. She’s too busy admiring the beauty of the gardens, even when they’re covered in shadows. She stops to touch a rose bloom, and then she leans forward and smells it.

  “I can’t wait to come back,” she says whimsically. “Let’s come back tomorrow.”

  I bite the inside of my lip. “You need to heal first.”

  “Why? I’m out here now.”

  “Because this right here is an emergency,” I say, pointing at her ankle. “We’ll come back in a few weeks.”

  “No, tomorrow.”

  “It’s after midnight, so it’s technically already tomorrow,” I say. “Wish granted.”

  She groans. “I thought you wanted me to go to the gardens! You said it would help my anxiety.”

  “I do,” I say, feeling like a huge jerk. She’s come so far tonight, and she’s in pain, and we’re about to go to the hospital, which I’m sure will be horrible on her anxiety. I just can’t tell her the truth right now. All I have to do is get a little more time, a few more days to search for the key.

  Belle freezes at the edge of the property. Even though there’s a large stone wall that closes in the Shelfbrooke campus from the outside world, there are a few wrought iron gates that bridge the two if you know where to look. This one is in the gardens, and it leads to a road that’s only two blocks away from Aunt Kate. I found it a few weeks ago.

  “What if someone’s out here?” Belle whispers, peering through the gate at the street on the other side.

  “It’s late, everyone is asleep,” I assure her. We step onto the sidewalk and then quickly hobble across the street. My shoulders are aching from supporting her weight, but we’re almost there. I try calling Aunt Kate again, but she doesn’t answer.

  “Mom is going to be so mad at me,” Belle says as we approach the apartments. Aunt Kate’s car is parked in the spot right in front of her apartment and Belle stares at it for a moment, like it’s something familiar that she hasn’t seen in a while.

  “She won’t be mad,” I say. “Stay here.” I leave Belle to lean against the porch railing and I jog up the three steps to the front door. Anxiety washes over me. This is a lot like when I first showed up here, only it’s different. Everything has changed since then.

  I ring the doorbell a few times in a row, hoping it’ll be loud enough to wake her up. A light turns on in the living room.

  The door swings open.

  “Oh my God!” Aunt Kate says. She dives past me, heading straight to her daughter. “What’s going on?”

  “I think she broke her ankle,” I say.

  “I didn’t want an ambulance,” Belle says, winces as her mom bends down to look at her ankle.

  I prepare to get a lecture about how I should have called an ambulance or something, but my aunt stays calm. She grabs her keys and throws a coat on over her pajamas, and then we get into her car, Belle stretching out in the back seat.

  Everyone is silent while she drives to the hospital. I suddenly feel so stupid. I’m almost eighteen. I should be smarter than this. I should have called an ambulance instead of walking my cousin that far. I could have run to Aunt Kate’s house myself and then came back to get her in the car. I should have done things very differently than I have.

  We pull into the parking lot at the hospital, right up front near the emergency room. “I’ll go borrow a wheelchair,” I say, jumping out of the car right before it rolls to a stop.

  When I bring the back wheelchair for my cousin, Aunt Kate puts a hand on my shoulder. “You did the right thing,” she says softly, her voice reassuring all the insecurities inside my heart. “I’m glad you were there for her.”

  The anxiety gods must be smiling down on us, because the emergency room is empty. No one lingers on the waiting room chairs. Only one nurse works at the triage desk, and she takes Belle back to a room quickly. My cousin’s face is white and freaked out, but she’s doing okay. I stay out in the waiting room to give her some privacy with her mom.

  Now that it’s almost one in the morning, exhaustion is setting in. I haven’t been sleeping much since I spend my time before and after school in the garden, looking for the key. Not wanting to fall asleep in the waiting room, I pick up my phone and scroll through it, just to have something to do.

  There’s a notification from the school’s document cloud site. The one Declan and I used to work on our group project together. I click the notification and see that Declan has left a comment on our paper, even though it was turned in for a grade weeks ago.

  Hey… is everything okay with your cousin?

  I click reply.

  Her ankle is hurt. We’re at the hospital now. Here’s my number if you want to text me.

  A few minutes later, a new number messages me.

  Much better. I didn’t know how else to get ahold of you since you don’t use Knight Watch.

  Me: I guess it’s about time we exchange numbers. Now we can be secret friends. Save my number as someone else’s name.

  Declan: You’re taking this whole thing too seriously, I want to be your friend.

  Me: I want to be your friend too, which is why I’m staying away from you. The Stokes are bad news.

  It’s wild how my heart beats a little faster when I’m talking to Declan. Even over text, it’s like my brain goes haywire with how bad I’m crushing on him, even though we can never be anything more than that.

  We exchange a few more random texts, and I tell him about how Belle fell and hurt herself so we went to her mom’s house to get a ride. I don’t tell him about her anxieties because I don’t want to share her personal business like that.

  He doesn’t reply for a few minutes, and I almost fall asleep again. Then my phone beeps.

  Declan: It seems like the garden is important to your cousin.

  Me: It’s important to both of us. I promised I’d take her there, but I just have to find the key first.

  Declan: She doesn’t know you don’t have the key?

  Me: No… She also doesn’t know I’ve never actually been to the hidden garden. But I’m going to find it, and I’ll get her there. I made a promise and I’m keeping it.

  Declan: What makes you think there’s a hidden garden?

  Is he messing with me? Or does he really not know? How could Declan Moss, great grandson of the founder of the Shelfbrooke gardens not know about the hidden garden inside the very place he works? But the alternative—that he’s lying to me—is a little hard to swallow right now. Declan is my friend. I don’t want him to lie to me.

  Help me find the key and I’ll show you, I text back.

  That sounds like you just want an excuse to hang out with me, Declan texts. Then he sends a wink face emoji.

  All the seriousness is gone now. We’re back to flirting and playful banter. Maybe he really doesn’t know about the garden.

  Believe it or not, there’s more to my life than flirting with cute gardeners, I text.

  Like what? He texts. Looking for places that don’t exist?

  Oh it exists. I just need to find the key.

  The double doors of the emergency room open and my aunt walks out, pushing Belle in a wheelchair. I shove my phone back in my pocket and stand up.

  “What did they say?”

  “Not broken,” Aunt Kate says. “But it’s a pretty bad sprain. She has to wear this walking boot for a few weeks and stay off it for a while.”

  “Well that’s mostly good news,” I say, looking at my cousin. Someone gave her a blue fleece hospital blanket, and she’s got it wrapped around her chest like a sh
awl. She looks up at me and nods. “Can we please get home now.”

  “Of course,” Aunt Kate says. “I’m not go into sneak you back into campus right now. You two can stay in Belle’s room at my house and I’ll take you back in the morning.”

  “I’m not going back to school unless it’s dark outside,” Belle says.

  Aunt Kate gives me a look like what are you gonna do and then rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

  We pile into her car and drive back to her apartment. Belle passes out on the short drive, thanks to the high dose of pain meds she got in the hospital. I help my aunt carry her inside and put her in bed, then I make a place to sleep on the couch. It’s so late, I can barely keep my eyes open, and when I lay down in my aunt’s living room, I put my phone on the coffee table, but notice there’s a new text from Declan. He sent it just a few minutes after the last text I sent him.

  I open it.

  You mean this key? The text says. There’s a photo below. I click it.

  It’s a silver skeleton key with the same symbol on the handle that’s on the lock at the hidden door.

  All these weeks I spent looking for it and it was right there the whole time.

  Declan has the key.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I can hardly sleep for the rest of the night, and it’s not because I’m on a couch in a strange place. It’s because Declan has the key. He has the key! It takes everything I have not to squeal out in excitement and wake up my aunt and cousin.

  I have school the next morning, and after eating Aunt Kate’s delicious French toast for breakfast, she drives me back to Shelfbrooke. Belle stays home with her because she doesn’t want to come back to the dorms until it’s dark outside and we can sneak her back inside.

  There is so much going on right now with my cousin and the amazing fact that she’s left her dorm for the first time in three years, but I feel selfish because all I can think about is that key. I need the key. I can’t wait to get it.

  And of course, because life isn’t fair, I’m suck at school all day with no ability to talk to Declan. He makes eye contact with me in English class, and again in the hallways and during chemistry, but I try not to do anything other than a simple smile. You never know if one of the Big Five are watching, waiting to tattle on us to Chad Stokes.

  At lunch, I eat alone in my dorm, and I imagine a world where things were different. Where Chad Stokes didn’t exist, and Declan lived in Malibu. Where we could flirt and date and be together without fear of repercussions. A world where Belle didn’t have anxiety and she could hang out with us outside, in the sunshine, with no worries at all.

  I pick up my phone to look at the picture of the key again, and that’s when I realize I forgot to text him back. Duh, Sophia! I didn’t text last night because it was late and I didn’t want to accidentally wake him up.

  I quickly type out a reply.

  You have the key! Can I please please please borrow it?

  His reply is instant.

  Declan: It’s just a decoration.

  Me: No, I promise it isn’t.

  Declan: What makes you think you know more about my family’s history than I do?

  Me: Meet me at the staff dorms tomorrow morning and I’ll show you.

  It takes him a while to reply, like maybe he’s thinking about it. My heart skips a beat and my hands get shaky as I sit here staring at my phone, waiting for him to reply. We can’t meet up after school because I promised to go to my aunt’s house to see Belle and smuggle her back into the dorms tonight after dark. But tomorrow is Saturday, and the campus is just as empty bright and early on Saturdays as it is at night.

  My phone beeps.

  Declan: Okay… but only because I want to see you. Not because I believe that this key actually leads to anything.

  My heart flutters. He wants to see me. I want to see him.

  But more than anything, I want to get into that garden.

  Me: Can we go early? Like 7am?

  Declan: You think 7am is early? Gardeners get up at 5 ;-)

  I grin and text him back: 5 it is!

  Belle doesn’t come home the first night. Aunt Kate calls and tells me she’s having another panic attack and wants to stay longer. The dorm room is so quiet and weird when I’m the only person in it. I manage to fall asleep around midnight, and when my alarm goes off at four thirty in the morning, I desperately wish I could stay in my warm, comfortable bed.

  But I have a garden to explore.

  I get up, throw on some clothes, and spend more time than I want to admit putting on makeup and fixing my hair. I want to look cute for Declan, even though he’s seen me looking pretty lame in my school uniform. Technically, we’re supposed to wear our uniforms on weekends too, but it’s so early, I really don’t think we’ll run into anyone. At least I hope not.

  I slip out the door right at five, and see Declan standing outside the staff dorms, waiting for me. I can’t help but grin.

  “Hey,” I say, walking outside to meet him. “You have the key?”

  He pulls it from his pocket. The key is longer than your normal key. It’s longer than the length of my hand, heavy and sturdy. He holds it out to me.

  I take it gently, reverently. This key means everything to me right now and I can’t believe I finally have it in my hand.

  “What makes you think you’ll find a secret door for this key?” Declan says as we walk toward the nearest garden hedge.

  “I’ve already found it,” I say.

  He snorts. “There’s no way. I know these gardens in and out.”

  “So you know about the secret door?”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “There is no secret door.”

  “Clearly you don’t know the gardens as well as you think you do.”

  He frowns. “Are you serious? Do you seriously know a secret door? Or is this some elaborate joke?”

  We slip into the gardens, and I lead the way. The path to the hidden garden is intricate, with lots of twists and turns, and it takes about fifteen minutes to walk there at a normal pace. But I know it by heart.

  “Of course I’m serious,” I say. “Why would I be joking about this?”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets. “The hidden garden is a rumor at Shelfbrooke. A legend. I don’t know how it got started, but people are always passing it around from one class to the next. So naturally, everyone comes to the gardener—me—thinking I’ll tell them where it is. But it doesn’t exist. My dad doesn’t know anything about it, and neither does my grandfather. I don’t think they would lie to me, either. It’s just really annoying whenever someone starts being my friend and then I realize it’s because they want access to a place that doesn’t exist.”

  “Trust me, this is real,” I say. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  Declan is cute when he looks skeptical. I lean over and bump into him as we walk. “I promise.”

  He grins. “How did you find it?”

  I snort. “Oh you know…wandering around the gardens feeling sorry for myself.”

  “I’m sorry everyone treats you like crap. I mean, you weren’t exactly super nice to me when we met but, you don’t deserve that.”

  An ache rises up in my chest. I look over at him. “I’m sorry for how I treated you when we met.”

  “You’ve already apologized for that,” he says, stopping at an intersection of the garden pathways.

  “I know, but… I feel like I should say it more.”

  “It’s fine. I promise.” Declan looks left and then right. “Which way do we go?”

  “This way.”

  We walk a little further, and as we get deeper and deeper into the gardens, Declan keeps sneaking little glances at me. Like maybe he’s wondering if I’m lost. But I’m not lost.

  We approach the wall with the hidden door. I stop and turn to him. “Key, please.”

  He hands it to me.

  I take a deep breath. If this doesn’t work, I’ll be crushed. Belle won’t have a gard
en to visit. I’ll be a liar who let her down.

  My teeth wear into my bottom lip as I approach the wall. From here it just looks like vines of green leaves that stretch wide and tall. But I know what lies underneath it. I feel for the door, and then uncover the lock. I slide the key into the hole, and it fits perfectly. I twist it.

  It’s rusted and old and hard to turn, like my dorm room lock was when I first moved in. But I put some muscle into it, refusing to be proven wrong. This will work. It has to.

  The lock clinks, and releases.

  “Holy crap,” Declan breathes from beside me. I look up at him and grin. “Can you help me?”

  We both grab the large metal handle and pull. The door easily opens a few inches, abut then the vines are all overgrown and blocking us. Declan takes a pair of garden sheers from his pocket and gently snips at all of the vines, until the outline of the door is visible.

  The door swings open. I bounce up and down on my toes.

  “I can’t believe it,” he says, looking down at me.

  “Why don’t you go first?” I say.

  He holds out his hand. “Together.”

  I reach for it, and a jolt of electricity shoots through my body as we hold hands. We step through the door and into the hidden garden.

  The area in front of us is rounded, with polished cobblestones making a circular path around a large granite fountain in the middle. Water gushes through the fountain just like it does in all of the other fountains in the rest of the gardens, only this one hasn’t been touched in a very, very long time. There are roses and lilies and orchids, and dozens of flowers that I can’t name, all left to grow and flourish on their own.

  We see little bits of other statues around the garden, that are mostly covered up from the flowers and vines. An angel here, a small child there. One even looks like a puppy.

  The air smells better than any flower bouquet I’ve ever had. It’s a perfect mixture of floral and sunshine, and I wish I could wear it as a perfume.

  Declan and I wander around in silence for a few minutes, just taking in the sight of the beauty around us. There is only one bench in here, a large wooden masterpiece that’s set up like a throne that’s big enough for two people to sit on.