I threw the essays on top of a pile, scrambled to my feet, and grabbed a coffee cup from behind a stack of books.
The footsteps slowed, then stopped. The light beneath the door darkened. As it did, the light in the office seemed to grow brighter—especially the light coming from behind me.
The computer. It was supposed to be asleep, its screen dark.
The old brass knob creaked. The door started to open.
I lunged across the room, grabbed a handful of wires and cords, and pulled. The computer whined before falling silent.
“Vanessa?”
“Hey, Dad.”
He stood in the doorway, his laptop under one arm, a brownie sundae in one hand.
“I was just about to bring you coffee and a sweater.” I held up the coffee cup and cardigan, the latter of which was his favorite and a perfectly believable reason to be in his office. “Would you like cream?”
He looked at the cup as I held it up. “You were really going to bring me coffee and a sweater?”
I paused. “Yes?”
“Well.” He smiled and stepped into the room. “Thank you, Vanessa. You just made my day.”
Of course I did. I’d been distant since seeing him in Raina’s scrapbook, and I knew he felt that, even if he didn’t understand its cause. Were this gesture sincere, it would’ve been the closest we’d come to our old relationship in months.
“You’re welcome.” I let him kiss my cheek as he passed, knowing the more I gave, the easier it’d be to leave.
“That’s strange.”
I had one foot through the open doorway when he spoke. I turned slowly, feeling my face flush the same shade as his favorite sweater. “Is something wrong?”
He was behind his desk, leaning over the keyboard. He typed, waited, and typed again. He tapped the top of the monitor and then took it with both hands and gently shook it back and forth. “I know I left this on. Did we have a power surge while I was outside?”
He stood up straight and scratched his head. In that moment he looked so perplexed, so like my beloved Big Poppa when-ever he was confused by new slang his students were using or technology he was trying to learn, that I suddenly felt terrible for snooping.
“That’s what that was.” I hurried back into the room and picked up the cords. “I tripped over these when I was getting your sweater. I must’ve disconnected the computer. Sorry.”
His face relaxed. “That’s okay.”
I plugged the cords back in and darted toward the door.
“Vanessa?”
I froze. He knew. I had thought unplugging the computer would shut everything down so that he’d never know that I’d been on the computer, let alone that I’d figured out his password and reached his desktop. But it hadn’t. And now he knew. He knew that I knew about Charlotte, and—
“If you wanted to join me for coffee and dessert… I’d like that.”
“Sure, Dad,” I managed without turning around. “I’ll be right back.”
I closed the door behind me and headed for the kitchen, which was now empty. I put the dirty cup in the dishwasher and filled two clean cups with coffee and cream. I cut a huge piece of brownie, wrapped it in a paper towel, and grabbed two forks from the utensil drawer.
And then I took the coffee and dessert and went upstairs, where Paige was waiting for me.
CHAPTER 6
I WOKE UP the next morning with a headache. I took three aspirin, drank a gallon of water, and soaked in the tub for an hour. Nothing helped. The pain continued into the weekend, when Paige and I returned to Bates, and I guessed it was caused by stress—related to Dad, school, and lying to Simon. Unfortunately, the physical relief I’d surely feel after coming clean during this visit was a small consolation.
“So tell me more about this famous party,” Paige said. She and Riley stayed a few feet in front of Simon and me as we walked across campus. “Will there be games?”
“And prizes,” Riley said. “And some of Androscoggin County’s finest livestock.”
I looked at Simon. “As in cows?”
“Technically, it’s a harvest festival,” he explained. “Bates has one every year.”
Up ahead, Riley said something that made Paige laugh. She rocked to the right, bumping his shoulder with hers.
“He doesn’t know about last summer?” I asked, lowering my voice.
Simon shook his head. “He saw some of the news coverage on TV—along with the rest of the country—but he has no idea she was involved. He thinks she’s your great summer buddy who moved to Boston to be there for you.”
“Good. If she wants him to know anything else, she’ll tell him when she’s ready.”
He lifted our clasped hands and pressed his lips to the top of mine. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
I hesitated, then kissed his cheek. “Me, too.”
It was a warm fall day, and the campus was filled with people studying, sunning, and heading to and from the festival. As we walked, I listened to their conversations and laughter, thinking they all sounded so happy, so normal. I tried to imagine doing the same things on a college campus this time next year… but couldn’t.
“So what do we think?” Riley asked when we caught up with him and Paige at the festival entrance. “Scarecrow contest then tractor race? Tractor race then scarecrow contest? Or should we just skip ahead to the caramel apples and pumpkin-flavored beer?”
“I could go for a hayride,” I said, spotting a long, horse-drawn wagon on the far side of the field. “If that’s okay with everyone else.”
It was. We took our time getting there, stopping along the way to cast our votes for the best pumpkin carving, watch a cider-making demonstration, and sample different varieties of locally made maple syrup. After we finally joined the end of the long hayride line, it took another thirty minutes to reach the front; by the time it was our turn, the wagon was packed and the next one wasn’t due back for several more minutes.
“We can totally fit,” Riley said, surveying the narrow gaps between riders. “We’ll just double up.”
“You don’t mind sitting on my lap?” Paige joked.
“In the interest of time and entertainment, no. I’d make that extreme sacrifice.”
Paige laughed. Simon looked at me.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
We climbed a short ladder and over the slatted back of the wagon. Riley followed Paige as she navigated through legs, feet, and bales of hay, and, true to his word, sat on her knees when she found a small seat near the driver and horses. Simon squeezed in the back left corner of the wagon, then pulled me gently into his lap.
“I think I like the Bates Harvest Festival,” I said as he put his arms around me.
Roughly thirty people were crammed into the small space—many of whom, judging by the occasional shrieks and loud laughter, had enjoyed some pre-hayride pumpkin-flavored cocktails—but sitting in the back with Simon was so cozy, we might as well have been alone.
“How was your lab?” I asked as the wagon started moving. We talked so often I knew his schedule by heart.
“Long. Grueling. Visually taxing.”
“I thought you loved science’s little winged friends.”
“I do… when I’m not expecting very important company.”
I smiled. “Important company? What kind?”
“Oh, the kind that makes me forget the atomic number of carbon, and how to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit, and the taxonomy of living things.”
“Kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species,” I recited, patting his chest lightly with each one. “She must be something special to make you forget the little science even I know.”
His arms tightened around me. I rested my head on his shoulder.
It felt so good, so comfortable.
If only it didn’t have to end.
“Caleb’s birthday’s next weekend,” Simon said a moment later.
“Right,” I said, grateful for the new topic. “The
big one-seven. Is he excited?”
“Against his will. He was just going to have a few friends over for pizza and a movie, but Monty had other ideas. And whatever Monty wants—”
“Caleb wants.”
“Hence the town-wide boat bash next Saturday night. Monty’s decking out the Barbara Ann, Caleb’s friends are rigging their fishing boats with lights and DJ equipment, and people are supposedly going to be jumping one ship for the next all night long.”
“Jumping ship?” I lifted my head and looked at him. I hadn’t checked the Winter Harbor Herald Web site since yesterday morning. “Does that mean… ?”
“No.” He lifted a strand of hair away from my face. “It doesn’t. Rowboats might be able to sit in spots, but the water’s still too frozen to launch anything bigger. Caleb just loves boats so much Monty wanted to make sure they were part of the party.”
I lay my head back down. Simon’s heart beat faster against my palm.
“So, I know it’s short notice… but would you want to come? With me? To Caleb’s party?”
I opened my mouth to say yes. He sounded nervous, and I wanted to reassure him—and I also wanted to be wherever he was. But the word wouldn’t come out.
“I know he’d love to see you,” Simon continued. “So would my parents. But if it’s too soon, I totally understand. It was just an idea.”
“No.”
“No? As in it’s not too soon?”
Hot tears sprang to my eyes. Blinking them away, I sat up so his arms released me. I tried to look at him but couldn’t.
“No… I can’t go.”
“Can’t. Okay. Do you already have plans?”
This was it. I had to do it. It was bad enough lying to him—I couldn’t drag down his whole family, too.
“Simon.” Fresh tears welled as I said his name. “I have to tell you something.”
He put one hand on my knee. “Anything, Vanessa. Always.”
Anything. Always. Did he mean it?
I wasn’t ready to find out but took a deep, shaky breath any-way. “Do you remember—”
I was cut off as the wagon jerked forward. Simon’s arms were back around my waist instantly. The air filled with shrieks and screams as the horses quickly sped up from a slow stroll to a full gallop.
“The Sleepy Hollow Stampede?” I practically shouted to be heard over the excited din and thundering hooves. The long black banner, suspended between trees, disappeared as we charged beneath it and into a dark forest.
“I think we’ve been hijacked!” Simon yelled back with a smile.
Holding on to him to keep from tumbling out, I followed his nod. The wagon driver, an elderly man who’d been wearing overalls and a flannel shirt when we boarded, had either changed into a costume without our noticing… or been taken out by the Headless Horseman.
“Vanessa!” Paige shrieked.
Our eyes met across the wagon, and we both cracked up. Riley bounced in her lap, his eyes closed, his arms tight around her shoulders. Hers were around his waist. As the wagon flew over bumps and rocks, festival volunteers dressed as witches and zombies lunged from the trees. Passengers screamed, ducked, and gripped whatever they could—hay bales, the sides of the wagon, each other—to avoid being caught and falling off.
It was the first time I’d been scared by something unrelated to the events of last summer since the events of last summer. And because Simon was right there, holding me tighter than he ever had before, I enjoyed every second.
When it was over and the wagon slowed to a stop at the ride entrance, Simon, still smiling, brushed my windblown hair away from my face. He went to kiss my forehead, but I lifted my chin so his lips landed on mine.
We kissed for several seconds, ignoring the looks and giggles of other passengers moving past us as they climbed out. We might have continued—perhaps even taking another ride just so we didn’t have to pull apart—but Riley had apparently been terrified into extreme thirst.
“Cider,” he gasped, standing just outside the wagon. “Lemonade, witch’s brew, I don’t care. As long as it’s liquid and can be swallowed.”
Simon’s lips stilled against mine. He lowered his head to my shoulder and shook it.
“I could use a drink myself,” I said. After the excitement of both the hayride and kissing Simon, my body needed fueling. I gave him a quick peck and climbed off his lap.
“But you wanted to talk. Maybe we should meet up with them later.”
It was stupid. And childish. And would probably only end up making things worse.
But I lied anyway.
“It’s no big deal. It can wait.”
If he wasn’t convinced, he didn’t say so. He was quiet for a while, though, as we walked to a big white tent where dozens of students and teachers were square-dancing. I worried he was upset that I’d put off the topic, but he seemed to relax after we spent some time at the tent’s refreshment table.
I relaxed, too. The refreshments consisted of bottled water, pretzels, and mixed nuts, and chasing the salty snacks with regular water was surprisingly satisfying. The music, played by a live country band, was good. Paige, fueled by Riley’s jokes and attention, couldn’t stop smiling. Simon let go of my hand only to put his arm around my waist.
I was having such a nice time I didn’t even hesitate when Simon asked me to dance.
Along with Paige and Riley, we formed a square with two other couples. The large white tent was crowded, and the portable dance floor shook from the dancers’ stomping and skipping. It took a few spins—and a lot of knocking into each other—to get the hang of it, but once we did, we do-si-doed like pros.
“College rocks!” Paige yelled as we hooked arms during one turn.
I laughed. I hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time.
Which made me happy. So much so that I kissed Simon the next time we were paired together.
One country song led to the next. The caller encouraged the crowd to sing along, and eventually, catching on to a simple chorus, I joined in.
Maybe it was the music. Or the white lights twinkling overhead. Or the way Simon caught my eye and grinned no matter where we were in the square. Whatever the reason, I didn’t notice no one else was dancing until I went to hook my arm through Riley’s… and it wasn’t there.
It’s okay…, I told myself, turning slowly. They’re not looking at you….
Except they were. All of them—students, teachers, the caller, Riley, Simon. Everyone but Paige. They’d formed a big, still circle. They didn’t clap, dance, or sing along. They simply stood there, watching me.
The girls were pouting.
The guys were smiling.
CHAPTER 7
“ARE YOU COLD?” Ms. Mulligan asked when we sat in her office Monday morning. “Should I close the window?”
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