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The Nightingale Files : The Rook and Queen

Page 17

by Megan Meredith


  He was towering over me like he had been on the front porch earlier today. His breathing was shallow, and his blue eyes intensifying. “I might lose my nerve.”

  Hearing the whispering echo of the “maybe later” that he had said on the porch earlier today, in my head, I knew what he meant, but I knew I didn’t want to feel ashamed about it later.

  “If that’s the case…” I paused momentarily. Maybe this wasn’t fair after my impulsive kiss on Friday, but I reminded myself that no one was half naked then. “Maybe it’s best,” I finished as I pulled away from him and ducked in the back door.

  I returned within minutes in a t-shirt and jean shorts with my hair wadded on the top of my head. Nate wasn’t by the pool where I’d left him. Great, he left. The gate was open, and I wandered through it, sure that his truck would be gone.

  But there, against his matte black hood and grill, he leaned with his arms crossed, his crutches leaning next to him. Waiting for me. Even if it meant he’d lost his nerve, he’d stayed. I liked that.

  I joined him, leaning against the hood. “Thanks for waiting.”

  He just nodded.

  We stood there, side by side, for a while in silence until he said, “Sorry I had to leave earlier.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I felt like we were in the middle of something. Once I got home, I realized my mom didn’t need me that desperately, and I should have just stayed, and all I could think about all day was coming back.”

  “It’s really okay. Did you have a good afternoon?”

  “Not especially. Mom fired the landscaping guy again but had some event planned for tomorrow, and she needed Tan and me to get the yard ready.”

  “I heard Tanner played well in the game on Friday.”

  “Yeah, I heard that too.”

  So he didn’t go.

  “Do I need to go? Will your parents be upset that we’re out here?”

  You didn’t seem to care about that when I was in a swimsuit, I thought but said, “No, they are already asleep. My dad doesn’t like me to be alone in the house with…boys.” I paused, thinking this was an awkward turn in the conversation. “But we’re fine out here.”

  He nodded. “Neighbors can see and whatnot?”

  “And whatnot,” I repeated. Then, I found myself whispering, “Did you lose your nerve?”

  Nate shook his head and laughed. “No.”

  “Okay, good. I just didn’t know if my jeans shorts were so off-putting that you’d decided against…,” I joked, trailing off at the end.

  “Not necessarily. I got to thinking while you were gone that you were right. If I lost my nerve just because the moment passed, then maybe I shouldn’t be doing it. And I didn’t want you to think that I only wanted to kiss you.”

  “Not only?” I raised one eyebrow teasingly, though I knew he hadn’t meant it that way.

  “Why do you do this to me? It’s been this way since the beginning; I say things I don’t really mean, and I mean things I can’t really say.”

  I smiled and found myself wanting to reach for him. It was probably best that the crutches were between us.

  “What I meant was I want to kiss you again. I might even tonight. But I wanted to ask you to go on a date with me. A real one. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together recently, but I want to spend time with you on purpose now. If that’s okay. I know you said you needed to think about it.”

  I looked over at him and smiled, nodding a yes. I realized I’d been wrong. The whole time, I’d been wrong.

  “Did you hear about Ace?” I asked, changing the subject to cover my blush.

  “I did. Do you feel relieved?”

  “Yes. I’m ready to move on from this whole ordeal.”

  “I’m glad,” he said sincerely. “So, it’s a yes on the date?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed out loud.

  Nate grinned at my response. “I have to be out of the house tomorrow for my mom’s JA event. I’ll come pick you up.”

  “Okay,” I said, then heard my phone ringing inside the gate by the pool. “Hang on, let me grab that.” I jogged in my bare feet inside the gate and snatched up my phone. I swiped “answer” as I said, “Hey, Felix.”

  Felix immediately launched into some story about a documentary he’d just finished. I laughed until I saw that Nate had followed me inside the gate and limped toward me. His blue eyes flashed in the light of the lanterns, and his brown hair curled at the edges as it grew damp from the sweat on his neck. He is surely the most attractive boy I know, I thought.

  While I still held the phone to my ear and made the occasional “uh-huh” to Felix, Nate stared into my eyes and put his hand behind my neck. A smile spread across his lips, and I knew he was going to kiss me.

  “Felix…I’m gonna have to call you back…,” I said into the phone and then dropped in on the lounge chair as Nate bent to kiss me, pulling me close with his hand that was on my neck and then in my hair. As I let him kiss me, I felt my heart race. I couldn’t really breathe, but I didn’t care, because Nate Reinhart was kissing me again, and this time, it felt altogether something like jazz and fireworks.

  “So, Ace is really gone?” Felix asked, his wide eyes accentuated by the Facetime angle.

  “Yep. Gone.”

  “How does that feel?”

  “Freeing.”

  “And how was the date?”

  “It was good,” I said vaguely.

  “That can’t be all,” he demanded.

  “You’re fishing.”

  “You’re avoiding.”

  “You’re barraging.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  “You’re…”

  “I’m amazing and funny, and you miss me.”

  “I do.”

  We smiled at each other, feeling our friendship over the distance and thankfulness flooding me. Then, Felix continued. “So, what’s next for the All Saints Queen?”

  I laughed at the thought of me as Homecoming Queen. “Finishing sophomore year,” I said simply. “Trying to survive without you. What about you?”

  “Coming home in a month. Hoping to all that is holy that you haven’t moved on without me.”

  “Never could.”

  “Me neither.”

  I had no idea what would become of me and Nate. I had no idea if Felix’s parents would accept him when he returned. No one knew what would happen to Mr. Hickman and Ace in prison. I wondered if Sylvie would find forgiveness and happiness. I wasn’t sure I could pull up my math grade or what the rest of my sophomore year would hold.

  I didn’t know much, but I knew I had been dreading this year, feeling like I didn’t have much to look forward to and bargaining with God for good things. And he had given me good people.

  And there was much to look forward to.

  THE END

  The Nightingale Files is purely a work of fiction though at times I have pulled on conversations, situations or locations that have existed.

  The characters/schools/business are fictional and any representation of places or persons (living or dead) is coincidental.

  Bentonville is a beautiful, real place, and we love living near it. I have not been compensated by the city itself or any business, mentioned or not, in the making of this book. However, if said institutions should like to sponsor the series going forward, I would gladly make mention of them.

  Chess quotes were paraphrased from:

  Yalom, Marilyn (2004), Birth of the Chess Queen: A History (2nd ed.), Perennial, ISBN 0-06-009065-0

  Horton, Byrne J. (1959), Dictionary of modern chess, New York: Philosophical Library, p. 175, ISBN 0-8065-0173-1

  AN EXCLUSIVE LOOK AT:

  THE NIGHTINGALE FILES:

  THE BISHOP AND PAWN

  The Nightingale Files:

  The Bishop and Pawn

  1.

  A BAD BISHOP, PASSIVELY PLACED, CAN STILL HAVE USEFUL DEFENSIVE FUNCTION

  “You’re the one who got me into this. You ca
n’t flake on me now,” I said into the phone pinned between my cheek and my shoulder as I laced up my shoes.

  “I know, I know,” Felix admitted with thick protest. “I just lack the proper motivation today,” he joked.

  “I’ll give you twenty-four minutes to find it.”

  He laughed. “Why not seventeen?”

  “Because it will take me twenty-four to run to your house.”

  “You’re going to run to my house and then do our normal run too?”

  “What can I say, I have extra steam to blow off today,” I said, sighing loudly as I tied the other shoe.

  “Still haven’t heard from Nate?”

  “Nope.”

  “Alright. I’ll be ready when you get here. Be careful.”

  “Will do. I’ll bring my Glock,” I said laughingly.

  “Do you even know what a Glock is?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Better get to poundin’ pavement if you want to make it in twenty-four minutes!”

  “On my way.”

  I locked the front door, stretched on the porch, and gave myself the length of the driveway before I started running. I wasn’t as natural at running as Felix was; with his impossibly long legs and lean muscles, he glided down the asphalt like a freakin’ gazelle. My legs were getting stronger, and I could tell they had power behind them to carry me, but they certainly weren’t long by any stretch of the imagination.

  My legs were warming up, and my strides felt easy, so I pushed my feet further as I turned off my street. My breaths were even and slow like Felix had been teaching me.

  Sweat beaded on my brow and began to slowly roll down my neck. The late summer heat was getting sweltering earlier and earlier in the day. The sun washed out the cloudless sky and trained its sights on me with the intent of melting me before I reached Felix.

  We only had a couple of weeks until school started, but it was borderline miserable outside. Which probably meant it was boiling in California where Nate was.

  At the thought of Nate, I cranked up the music in my earbuds and drowned out my thoughts.

  My frustration ruled my legs, and I pushed a little harder around the corner to Wellington Boulevard, which connected to Felix’s subdivision. Two houses down, there were new foundations going in and frames going up.

  As I jogged past, I saw a boy leaning against a small oak tree, taking a smoke break. His jelled red hair caught fire in the sunlight, and his ice blue eyes followed me down the street. I looked away just as he threw down his cigarette and pushed off the tree, heading in my direction.

  Maybe I really do need that Glock, I joked to myself, tamping down some nervousness.

  The boy jogged up beside me and said something I couldn’t hear, which was probably best, I thought. I didn’t slow down, but I took my right earbud out. “What?” I asked breathlessly.

  He smirked at me, which made the glacier blue dance in his eyes. As I did my best not to judge him, I had to admit that, for a construction worker, he was really good-looking.

  “I just said ‘hey,’” he repeated. He kept up with me even in his work boots.

  “Hey.” I smiled politely at him.

  “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

  Mostly away from you, I sneered a little inside, but out loud, I said, “Over to a friend’s house. He’s helping me train.”

  “You look like you’re doing fine on your own.”

  He observed me very openly. I let him see me roll my eyes. He was laying it on thick, but, oddly enough, I didn’t feel threatened by him. And ever since Ace, I was hypersensitive to boys and their intentions.

  He had freckles high on his cheeks and a square jaw that clenched when he tried not to smile too big.

  “Thanks,” I said, “but don’t you need to get back to work?”

  The boy looked back over his shoulder and cursed, seeing that his attentions had taken him three blocks further than he must have intended. He started to jog back, away from me, and I giggled to myself.

  Just before I cut across the street into Felix’s subdivision, I heard him shout after me, “Will you come back this way?”

  I laughed and lifted my arms up like I didn’t know.

  “Come back this way. I need to see you again!”

  I smiled but knew I was far enough away that he couldn’t see it. I put my earbuds back in and pushed my hardest all the way to Felix’s driveway, where I could see him stretching.

  Felix had returned at the end of the school year from his semester at the “lab,” as he called it. When his parents had sent him away to get to the bottom of his so-called abnormalities, I hadn’t been sure how he would come back. But after therapists, counselors, doctors, physiatrists, and even a pastor had confirmed to his parents what I already knew—that there was nothing wrong with Felix—they had backed off and begun to accept him.

  But Felix himself had changed. Not that he’d ever seemed insecure, but he was now sure of himself, and he was focused. He’d gone out for the track team and convinced me to do it to. It was the outlet we both needed.

  Nate had gone off to a prestigious football camp in California and hadn’t called since he’d left. We hadn’t exactly broken up when he’d left, but our status and security definitely eluding me now. So, every day, Felix and I worked out our problems on the asphalt.

  Felix threw a water bottle at me as I stopped at the edge of the drive. “Twenty-two point four five. Nice, AB! Got a little pep in your step this morning?”

  I smirked at the thought of the redhead. “Yeah. Guess so.” I shrugged. “You got those stilts warmed up yet?”

  He shoved me, then winced. “Oh, gross. You’re sweaty.”

  “Listen, Felix,” I said, snapping his name like a whip, “if you can’t accommodate sweat, you are in the wrong sport, my friend.”

  “I can accommodate mine. Doesn’t mean I like yours.”

  I swiped my hand across my neck and left a long streak down his arm.

  “You’re disgusting, Avery Brave.”

  “I’m disgustingly faster than you!” I said as I took off down the street.

  “Oh, Nightingale. You’re going to pay for that!” he shouted after me.

  I knew I would. In about four strides, he would catch up to me and probably pass me, but the thrill I got out of teasing him spiked my adrenaline and coursed through my quads as I pushed them forward faster and faster.

  I fully expected to be tackled at any second, thrown down into the grass and left in his dust. But it never came.

  I kept sprinting. One block, two. I quickly looked behind to see Felix chasing me, on my tail, but he hadn’t caught me yet. A stitch grabbed my side, and I doubled over, holding it.

  Felix slapped my back as he caught me. “AB! I think you’re in the wrong event! Where did that come from?”

  Heaving the breaths out to try and expand my lungs far enough past the stitch to relieve it, I answered, “I have no idea.”

  “You had to be running a seven-minute mile! I had no idea you had that kind of speed in those squats li’l legs of yours.”

  “They are pretty close to the ground,” I joked.

  “I’m going to tell coach we have a new sprinter.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Why not?” he challenged.

  “Because maybe it was a one-time deal. A fluke.”

  Felix eyed me suspiciously. “I doubt it.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to be a sprinter, Felix,” I pushed back.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, grasping my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I see I struck some sort of nerve. I’m not trying to push you. So, let’s just run.” He searched for a nod of agreement. “Okay?”

  I nodded sheepishly, not knowing what nerve he had struck or what it meant. “Okay.”

  We ran seven miles at a good clip, me struggling to keep up with Felix’s lengthy strides. We talked about lake plans and laughed about our favorite shows. We caught up on what was happening with Carol, and, by
the time we’d solved all the world’s moral problems, we were back at Felix’s house.

  “Do you want me to drive you home?” he asked.

  “Nah, I’ll walk back. I need to cool down so I’m not stiff for the lake tomorrow.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Want to swim later?”

  “Yeah, let me shower, and I’ll be over after lunch.”

  “Okay. See ya,” I said, waving at him and walking back in the direction I’d come from.

  When I neared the construction site, I found it deserted. No men, no trucks, no redhead. But nailed to the tree where he had been leaning and smoking, there appeared to be a note.

  My aching, exhausted legs protested, but my curiosity enticed me across the street to the tree. Sure enough, it was a note.

  It read:

  TO THE ANGEL WITH HONEY-COLORED HAIR

  Then, it listed his phone number. He’d signed it MB.

  I smiled to myself and ripped the note from the nail and continued back to my house. I debated whether to run this way tomorrow.

  When I walked into the house, Mother was mid-conversation with someone on the phone. I poured myself a glass of water, trying to catch my breath, and listened in half-unintentionally.

  “No. That’s what she said. They were going to start taking in teenagers.” She nodded and then shook her head in disbelief. “I know, it seems risky, and…okay, I wasn’t going to use that word, but yes. But she says that they feel like God wants them to do this.”

  I watched her from the counter as she listened and bobbled her head from side to side in slight agreement and disagreement. Then, when she could listen no more, she held up a hand and said, “But Helen, I don’t really think it’s our place to make that call. Really, what we need to do is be helpful. Be there for them. Even if it goes wrong, we need to be there for them.”

  I had never heard my mother be so bold with one of her friends, and it surprised me. It made me smile behind my glass.

  “Okay?” She waited for a response and then nodded. When she hung up the phone, she turned and smirked at me. “Were you listening?”

 

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