Just when I thought it was not possible that the temperature in Maine could get any colder, I’d find myself shivering uncontrollably and my teeth actually chattering whenever I was outside for more than a minute. I experienced my fair share of harsh winters growing up in Massachusetts, but so far, nothing compared to my new habitat, the exposed and vulnerable Pike’s Island.
Regardless, I tried to keep myself as warm as possible as I kept up with my grueling workload and my grades, even studying or doing my homework on the chilly ferryboat back and forth to the island.
While on my way back to the island one below-zero-wind-chilled-afternoon, I readjusted my scarf and wrapped it tightly around my neck. I sat there and tried to memorize present tense conjugations for my Spanish quiz the next day, but couldn’t. I found myself thinking about Michael and about the last time I saw him.
After Michael had stormed off on Thanksgiving, I quietly closed the front door and locked it securely behind me. I didn’t know what else to do. For a brief moment I contemplated running after him, but I had no idea where he went. He knew the island better than I did and when I tried to call him on his cell phone, it went straight to voice mail.
Michael never did show up to school the week after that and wouldn’t return any of my calls, texts or e-mails. I thought about trying to catch a ride over to his house one day after school, but I didn’t have his address in Portland and didn’t want to ask any of the other students if they knew where he lived.
Michael’s MyWeb account had no recent posts except for an updated quote underneath his profile picture. It read: “Be not fearful of death, for death is not fearful of you.”
His new quote was rather ominous and concerned me. Why was he talking about death? Was he really that ill? I wouldn’t doubt he became sick with something, especially after walking through a snowstorm to get to my house on Thanksgiving. I didn’t want him to leave that night, but I also didn’t think it was okay for him to let his parents worry about him. All he had to do was call them and tell them that he was safe.
From our past phone conversations, he had told me that he and his dad really didn’t get along, but that he adored his mother. I figured he must have had an argument with his dad that day, which probably prompted him to come and see me. But he wouldn’t tell me what happened that night or ever for that matter. That was the problem; Michael was way too secretive.
Sometimes he was forthcoming about things in his life like his interpretation of the lyrics to his favorite song or his passion for poetry and writing, but would never talk about why he missed so much school or what made him so ill.
Either way, he still wasn’t back in school and we had only one week left until Winter Vacation. I closed my spiral notebook, put on my hood and rested my head back on the windowsill. The soft swaying of the ferry lulled me and let my mind wander. I always seemed to be tired lately. I figured the constantly cold temperature and lack of sun gave me less energy during the winter months. Maybe that’s the reason polar bears hibernated. It made perfect sense. Humans should, too. I knew I wanted to anyway.
I dozed off and started dreaming about a warm and cozy snow cave where a fluffy, down sleeping bag and roaring fire awaited me when, suddenly, I was nudged awake.
I quickly sat up and searched for the source of my interruption. Tessa Anderson sat beside me, with a grin from ear to ear.
“What’s up, loser?” she asked.
I laid my head back down and closed my eyes. I was annoyed. “I was trying to sleep.”
She nudged me again. “Well, wake up, Willow! We’re home.”
• • •
Up until that day, I didn’t even realize that Tessa Anderson lived on the island. Never once had I seen her on the ferry to or from Portland since we had started school back in September.
Normally I would hang out with Erica and Taylor on the morning ride in, but rarely caught up with either of them after school because one or all of us stayed after for different reasons whether it was for sports, clubs or even extra help.
After the boat docked, I walked off slowly, barely awake. My mom was working at my brother’s school, so I braced myself for a frosty, torturous walk home. I zipped up my North Face as high as it would go and trudged through the semi-plowed streets. I was halfway home when a shiny, blue Ford pickup truck pulled up next to me.
A man rolled down his window and motioned for me to walk toward him. “Hey, come here.”
I looked around. No one else was in sight. I was scared and picked up my pace.
He sped up and called to me. “Wanna ride, Willow?”
I ignored him and walked even faster, completely freaked out that he knew my name. I was just about to start running when I heard a high-pitched laughing coming from inside the cab.
I looked over and saw Tessa pop up from underneath the dashboard. She was hysterical.
“Willow, calm down! It’s just me and my brother, Jaques.”
I thought I was going to have a heart attack or get abducted at the very least, while Tessa and her brother cackled at my expense.
I was pissed. “Very funny, guys,” I said sarcastically.
Tessa tried to stifle her laughter and yelled through the window. “Sorry.”
The truck screeched to a halt and Tessa flung her door open. “Hop in.”
CHAPTER
TEN
In the Middle of Nowhere (Willow's Journey #1) Page 9
