The autumn colors that became the landscape of the island were warm and soothing, but the loneliness I sometimes felt from living there still resided deep within me. Golden yellows, burnt reds and bright oranges were just a few of the hues that adorned the giant oaks and maples. As I walked back home from the dock, the towering trees bent with the chilly November winds as their colorful leaves fell effortlessly to the ground and danced all around me.
Most days I had to walk the half a mile home after the ferryboat dropped me and the other kids off at the pier. Some days, though, when my mom didn’t have to work at my brother’s school, she’d wait in her car and give me a ride home.
It seemed as though my family was getting into a routine and settling into our new home, into our new lives. My brother James said he was happy at his new school and quickly made a handful of energetic buddies just like him. Luckily, most of these boys lived in nearby neighborhoods, so he could ring their doorbells after school, run outside and play until dusk.
My mother seemed more content with her new job and once in a while, I’d catch glimpses of my old mom, the one I missed, the one I remembered from before my father’s death. Her only wish was that she could start working full-time so she’d be able to save some money for the three of us.
It seemed as if all I did was go to school, come home, study, eat dinner, study some more, go to bed and repeat the same routine the next day. As settled as I may have begun to feel, it wasn’t turning out to be a whole lot of fun.
Whenever I had free time I would try to reconnect with Becca, Sarah and Gabby via the Internet or chat on the phone with one or, if possible, all of them. Lately, though, I felt as if my best friends were distancing themselves from me. They all promised they would come for a visit and stay with me over a long weekend, but it had been almost two months and not one of them had made any attempt. The “Fab Four” seemed to be fizzling fast.
I wasn’t sure if it was purposeful or simply because they were continuing with their lives and other friendships so many miles away. I, too, really had no choice but to carry on with mine, even if I had to do it alone in the middle of the Atlantic.
A few times, during school, I hung out with two girls who were in both my study hall and my lunch wave. Erica and Taylor were best friends and had grown up together on Pike’s Island. Erica was Italian and had a head full of tight, black curls and a pretty, dark complexion. Taylor had shocking red hair and white, almost translucent skin. Erica was short, while Taylor was tall. Even though they looked like complete opposites, Erica and Taylor were as close as two friends could be.
Every now and then, the two of them would fill me in on little tidbits of gossip that occurred in school or back home on the island. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested, but my ears perked up whenever I found myself around the two of them.
“Did you hear about Tessa Anderson and Connor Finch?” Erica asked one day in the cafeteria, as she slid her lunch tray toward Taylor and me.
Taylor looked around nervously. “Shhh,” she said. “You’re so loud.”
Erica plopped down across from us, leaned forward and whispered. “Sorry.”
Dying from curiosity, Taylor flung her upper body on top of the lunch table. “So … what happened?”
Erica spoke so softly that I had no choice but to lean in, too. “I guess they got caught having sexual relations in the back of Connor’s car during lunch yesterday.”
I slowly nodded. “Really?”
Taylor added, “Very interesting.”
Erica sat back and smiled like the Cheshire cat. “Guess he didn’t like the food choices in the cafeteria and wanted to eat his own special version of take-out instead.”
A visual of Connor and Tessa in the back seat of his Beemer popped into my head and I cringed. “Ewwww.”
“I second that,” Taylor said as she took a big bite of her pizza. “Although, he really is hot.”
Erica scanned the room. “I guess Michael Cooper is back to school again, for how long? Who knows?”
I shot up. “He is? Where?”
Erica looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you care?”
“Just wondered,” I said, trying to sound casual as I sipped my iced tea.
“You got the hots for him or something, Willow?” Taylor teased.
“Not at all,” I lied.
I suddenly felt nervous and could tell my face was turning red. Abruptly, I stood and grabbed my empty lunch tray. “Gotta go! Gonna head to the library and finish up my history paper.”
Without any further explanation, I quickly turned and fled and could distinctly feel both of them staring after me as I did.
• • •
I walked through the halls toward the library in a state of confusion. Why did Erica say Michael was back in school? I knew for certain that he wasn’t in homeroom this morning and why wouldn’t he have told me on MyWeb that he was coming back?
Once he graciously accepted me as his friend back in October, we communicated regularly a couple of times a week. He told me he was too sick to come to school, but wouldn’t say why. I tried not to make a big deal about it since he didn’t.
His MyWeb page gave no hint as to his type of illness. I was tempted many times to ask either Taylor or Erica, but I didn’t want to bring up his name out of the blue. And now, when I had just had the perfect opportunity to ask, after Erica’s comment about his being back in school, I acted all giddy, got embarrassed and basically ran away.
Through our correspondence, I quickly realized that Michael had a passion for writing. He’d send me his newest poems while I kept him updated on anything that was newsworthy in school, which, most times, wasn’t much at all. He never asked me for my phone number and I didn’t dare ask him for his. It seemed as though we were strictly pen pals, which in today’s age of technology, seemed archaic.
Back in Mass, I had always hung out with a lot of boys as friends, but never had a boyfriend. I had plenty of crushes on guys, it seemed like a new one every week. But for the most part I kept my crushes to myself. I didn’t want my girlfriends teasing me about it or letting the guy know. I’d be way too embarrassed. And if I did find out that a boy liked me, I would do everything in my power to avoid him at all costs, even if I had to go out of my way and take a longer route to class so I wouldn’t have to bump into him in the hallways. I guess deep down I wasn’t ready for a relationship.
Why was I even thinking about Michael Cooper and having a boyfriend in the same thought process? What was wrong with me? I didn’t even really know him. And why did I think that he would tell me, of all people, when he was coming back to school? I’m sure Erica was mistaken, but she said it with such conviction.
As I walked down the hallway toward the library, I caught myself looking for Michael, peeking around corners and searching darkened doorways as though he’d be hiding in them.
I had to get a grip. I opened the library door and vowed not think about anything else but finishing my paper and handing it in on time, which happened to be during the very next period.
• • •
I had just finished typing up my bibliography when the bell rang signaling the end of the period. I started to freak out because the printer jammed as soon as I began printing my paper.
My history teacher, Mr. Winkler, was such a stickler for getting assignments in by their due date. That should be his name. Mr. Stickler. He would automatically deduct ten points for every day it was late and I was not about to let that happen. I prided myself on being a straight-A student.
I finally fixed the jam, printed the paper and ran for my locker so I could grab my history book. Another five points off a future quiz grade if you didn’t bring your book to class everyday. He was so demanding.
I tried to get down the hallways as quickly as I could. There was too much congestion as students made their way to their next class. The library was on one end of the school, while my locker and history class where completely on the other.
I fi
nally rounded the corner to the hallway where my locker was located. I pushed and shoved through the crowd as I made my way toward the end of the long corridor.
Too late. The bell rang.
Kids dispersed and the hall completely emptied in a matter of seconds. There was no time left. I sprinted toward my locker and worked my combination as fast as I could. It was stuck! These lockers were the worst and I thought for a split second that maybe Tessa Anderson wasn’t lying all those months ago.
“Damn it!” I took a deep breath and tried again.
All of a sudden an arm grazed the side of my head as a hand came to rest on my metal locker above me.
“Where’s the fire?” the unfamiliar voice asked.
Unsure, I turned around and looked up. I recognized that smile immediately. Erica was right. Michael was back.
CHAPTER
SIX
In the Middle of Nowhere (Willow's Journey #1) Page 5
