by Harrison, S.
Carlo Delgado is the fourteen-year-old son of our stable master, Javier Delgado. He’s my best friend and the only other kid I know. Carlo’s dad moved into the little two-bedroom house in the Seven Acre Wood ten years ago, and Carlo has come to stay with his dad every summer vacation since to help him look after the horses. Hanging out with Carlo is the highlight of my year, and I just got him in gigantic trouble. It was me and my big mouth’s fault. I have to warn him.
Jonah strides off into the distance. He glances over his shoulder and points toward the house. I nod and make it look like I’m doing what I’m told as I head back up the hill, but the second that I’m out of Jonah’s sight line I break into a furious sprint. I veer away from the house and go tearing across the main lawn, bolting toward the quaint rows of hedges surrounding the groundskeeper’s shed. The stables are behind the polo grounds. It’s a good eight-minute walk, twelve if you’re as slow-moving as Jonah. I’m sure that I can make it there in less than three minutes if I take one of the quad bikes in the shed. With any luck, Jonah won’t even see me kidnap Carlo to safety.
I sprint across the grass and almost make it to the hedges in less than two minutes. The doors of the shed are wide open, which means Graham the groundskeeper is in. He’s a quiet guy who likes to keep to himself. He’s thin and wiry with a thick white beard and glasses that perch on the tip of his crimson-pointed nose. He seems to be much more comfortable around plants than humans, especially a rowdy thirteen-year-old girl like me. I can see him inside as I get closer, standing at the bench, completely absorbed in doing something plant-y with some seedlings. He’s dressed in his usual plaid shirt, green overalls, and black rain boots. He dresses like that year-round, even on summer days like this. I know from past experience that my mere presence always scares the living crap out of him, so, with a little smile on my face, I go barreling through the open door like a force of nature.
“Hi, Graham!”
He jumps a foot off the ground. His glasses spring off his nose, flip once in the air, and disappear into an open bag of potting mix. I grab a set of keys off a hook by the door and leap onto the nearest quad.
I twist the ignition, the engine roars into life, and I full-throttle the quad out of the shed, spraying dirt and dust backward all over Graham.
“Sorry!” I yell over my shoulder as I swing the handlebars wildly to the left, carving fat curves in the loose gravel outside. I peel out as fast as the bike will take me, speeding across the lawn behind the house and right through one of the yellow rose gardens beside the hand-carved gazebo.
The wind rushes through my hair as I round the corner past the high fence of the tennis court and down through the green grotto. The growl of the quad bike echoes all around as I weave along the paths that snake through the dense tunnels of trees.
I burst out into the sunlight again and see the polo grounds coming up quickly. I’m almost to the edge of the field when Carlo appears from behind one of the grandstands, a heavy saddle in his arms.
“Carlo!” I yell toward him. By the time I’m near enough to see the expression on his face, I can tell that he already knows what we’ll be doing this afternoon—hiding in the Seven Acre Wood around his dad’s house.
I brake, slide-skid the quad bike across the grass, and stop right beside him. “Get on,” I say breathlessly, rubbing and flexing my aching arm.
He drops the saddle on the ground and wipes his brow with the back of a dirty-gloved hand.
“What have you done now?” he asks, climbing on the back of the quad.
“I’ll tell you at the pond.”
I gun the throttle and swerve the bike toward the woods. I glance to the right and see Jonah in the distance, waving his arms at us as we hit the path that leads to the outer edge of the trees. I swerve to the left and into the forest. There’s no doubt that Jonah knows where we’re going, but we would hear him coming and be gone again long before he got to us. Through the forest we go, the quad bike bumping over the terrain as I expertly weave in and out of the trees. I’m pretty sure most grownups would have trouble handling the bike as well as I do, even with a weak arm like mine, but that doesn’t stop Carlo from holding on to me as tightly as he can.
We roar over the top of the hill and down the other side into the clearing. I hit the brakes, slide through the loose dirt and twigs at the bottom, and finally stop beside the cool, clear water’s edge of the sheltered rock pool we discovered five summers ago. Our private meeting place.
Carlo jumps off the back, pulls his gloves off, and stuffs them into the pocket of his shorts. “What’s going on, Finn? Where was Jonah heading?”
I cut the engine, get off the bike, and walk over to the old log we dragged to the edge last year. “He was looking for you, but he’s probably going to talk to your dad now, instead,” I say regretfully, flumping down on the log and digging my toes into the dirt.
“What for—what did I do?!” asks Carlo.
I shrug my shoulders and look at the ground to avoid looking him in the eyes.
“I might have mentioned that . . . you broke my arm?” I wince at the thought of how he’ll react. I’m expecting Carlo to be mad at me; I would be if someone got me into this level of trouble. Just how mad he gets is another question. “It just slipped out, I swear! I bumped my head and I didn’t know what I was saying. I’m really sorry.”
“Finn.” The tone of his voice isn’t angry at all. He walks over and sits on the log beside me. “It’s cool. I told my dad about that ages ago.”
“What? Why?”
Carlo laughs. “Because it was freaky. I had to tell somebody, and you know how chill my dad is. He said you must be part devil and that I should stay away from you. He was just kidding, though. At least I think he was. Anyway, I never would’ve hit you if you didn’t ask me to, and if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes what you can do. I was there that time you jumped out of the oak tree remember? My whole family ride horses, Finn; I know what a broken arm looks like.”
“You’re still gonna get in trouble, though, aren’t you?”
Carlo crinkles his nose. “Nah, what for? That was years ago, and you and me are still best friends. Dad already knows what I did. Even if he did find out for the first time today, it wouldn’t make any difference. My parents don’t punish me at all since the divorce, so I can pretty much get away with anything,” Carlo says with a mischievous grin.
“Jonah promised not to punish me, but I bet he’ll find a way. I shouldn’t have told him anything.”
“I’ll tell you what . . .” Carlo leans down and gathers up a handful of stones. “From now on we’ll call this our . . . Pool of Secrets. Here.” He drops half the pebbles into my hand. “We’ll tell each other our secrets, and for each one we tell, we’ll throw a stone into the pond. They’ll sink to the bottom and that’s where they’ll stay, forever.”
I can’t help but think how romantic the idea is.
“I’ll go first.” Carlo holds up a pebble between his fingers. “My dad tells everyone that he doesn’t drink, but I know where he hides his tequila.” He throws the pebble out into the middle of the pond and it disappears with a plop. “Your turn,” he says with a smile.
I hold up a pebble. “When I was five, I set fire to the east wing kitchen.” I throw the pebble into the pond.
“I heard about that! It was a big fire. That was you?” exclaims Carlo.
“Yeah, I was trying to make pancakes for Jonah’s birthday. I think he knows it was me, but he never said anything.”
“Wow. Actually, when I think about it, I should have guessed that it was you.”
I smile and slap him hard on the shoulder.
Carlo picks another pebble from his palm. “I think I can beat that. I took my mom’s car and drove it around the block one night when she was out on a date. I ran over Mr. Bailey’s letterbox.”
I smile, genuinely impressed. “Cool.
It doesn’t quite beat the fire, though.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Carlo says, arcing the pebble out into the water. “How about this, then? One time I hit this girl with a stick and broke her arm.” He smiles, looking at me from the corner of his eye and nudging me with his elbow.
“That’s not a secret to anyone anymore,” I say, half-laughing. Carlo grins back at me.
I find the biggest pebble in my hand and toss it into the pond.
“What was that one for?” asks Carlo.
I watch as the ripples spread out wider and wider until they reach the shore and disappear. “I’ve never been off the grounds of Blackstone Manor,” I say with a sigh.
Carlo turns to me. “Really?”
I nod my head.
“You mean you’ve never been anywhere else? Not even to school?”
“Nope. Jonah homeschools me. He said I’m already so far ahead of other kids my age that school would be a step backward.” I look away sadly into the shimmering water.
“Wow. I can’t believe that I never knew that about you.”
I look back at Carlo and try to force a smile, but I can’t hide my sadness. Especially from him.
He smiles sympathetically. “Well, I think you’re lucky, Finn. I don’t know many kids that actually want to go to school.”
“I want to more than anything. I’m sick of being around grownups all the time. I want to be around kids my own age. You’re the only other kid I know!” I throw another stone into the water hard enough to skip it twice before it sinks. “I feel like I’m missing out on so many things. Sometimes it feels like the world is being kept away from me.”
Carlo looks up at the huge willow branches overhanging the pond. “You’re the smartest girl I know, Finn. Way smart enough to figure out how to get Jonah to send you to school. I mean, if that’s what you really want.”
I look over at Carlo. His thick black hair falling across his forehead, his emerald-green eyes, a smudge of dirt across the olive skin of his cheek. He really is very cute. It’s not the first time I’ve thought so, but it is the first time that I realize that no one knows me better than the fourteen-year-old boy sitting beside me.
I look back at the pond and throw another pebble into the water. “You’re the only real friend I have, Carlo.”
He screws up his nose. “That’s not true. What about Jonah? What about Beauty?”
“Ha! Jonah totally doesn’t count, and Beauty is a horse!” I say, playfully punching him on the shoulder.
“Well . . .” Carlo says, flicking a pebble toward the pond. “You’re the coolest girl I know. You could probably do anything.”
“Thanks,” I say sheepishly.
“You’re also the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Especially when you smile like that.”
I feel my cheeks flush red. I pick a larger rock out of the dirt and drop it into the pond, splashing him with droplets of water.
“Hey!” Carlo almost falls backward off the log. “You must have a really big secret for a rock like that!”
“Not a big secret. A big . . . question.” I feel a bundle of nerves spark into life in the pit of my stomach. “Carlo. Have you ever . . . kissed a girl?”
He looks at me; his big emerald eyes go from my eyes, to my lips, and back again. “You mean really kiss?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly.
I nod.
He slowly shakes his head. I feel my heart beating in my chest like a drum. I swallow hard and will the words to come out.
“Do you think you would ever want to . . . kiss . . . me?” My stomach backflips with excitement just from asking.
His eyes are wide and his face is suddenly so serious. He bites his bottom lip and the tip of his tongue slowly peeks out between them, moistening them ever so slightly. Slowly, he nods.
I gingerly shuffle closer to him, my gaze fixed on his, my heart pounding. I hear the sound of the pebbles he’s holding drop from his fingers and softly hit the ground. He wipes the dirt off his palm on the side of his shorts and gently takes my hand. We stare at each other for a moment, my breathing heavier than usual; my heart’s beating now like it’s trying to escape from my chest. An intense rush of adrenaline surges through my body as he slowly leans in. Time seems to slow to a crawl. The songs of the birds in the trees around us fade away into the distance. I feel my heartbeat in my ears. The closer he gets, the more aware I become of the heat of his skin. The dappled light of the afternoon sun reflects off the pond and dances across his face. He closes his eyes, gently presses his lips to mine, and, for an instant . . . the whole world disappears.
I close my eyes and drink in the sensation of my first kiss, how soft and warm his lips are, how giddy and strangely weak I feel, how tightly I grip his hand, how perfect this moment is. It lasts only for a few short, beautiful seconds, and when our lips part we look into each other’s eyes, wondering if what just happened really happened. I look down and see our fingers entwined. Carlo smiles and so do I. It feels like we’re the only two people left on earth.
“There you two are.”
The voice from the top of the hill behind us breaks the spell like an electric shock. Carlo’s dad has found us. Our hands shoot back to our sides. Did he see us kiss? My stomach twists into a knot. I feel like we’ve just been caught red-handed in the middle of the crime of the century.
We both look up and see Mr. Delgado standing there with his hands on his hips. “When you two have a minute, Major Brogan would like to see you both up at the main house. If I were you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting.” He turns and disappears back into the forest.
Carlo takes a deep breath. “If you ever go to school and you’re told to go to the principal’s office, it feels a lot like this,” he says, swallowing hard and trying to force a smile. “I guess we’d better go, Finn.”
I jump on the back of the quad bike and Carlo drives. He doesn’t hurry. All the way back to the house I hold on to him, my arms tight around his waist. Even though we’re both in trouble and heading for punishment, I can’t help feeling so deliriously happy.
Carlo steers the bike along the path, across the grass verge, and up onto the circular driveway. I see Jonah in the distance, standing on the front steps of the main house with his arms folded, talking to Carlo’s dad, who’s sitting on a quad of his own. Surprisingly, instead of his usual suit and tie, Jonah is wearing his military fatigues, complete with black beret and spit-shined, black combat boots. Everyone, including me, knows that Jonah was a major in the army, but I’ve known him my whole life and I’ve never actually seen him in uniform, or ever really thought of him as a soldier. Not even with all the gun training we’ve done together.
I’m not afraid of Jonah, I never have been, and I’ve never had a reason to be. He’s my teacher, my mentor, role model, and friend, and also my hero. But right now, as we get closer and I see him in that uniform, standing like a stone statue on the front steps, I can’t help but feel a creeping sense of dread.
Carlo stops the bike a few feet away from the steps and cuts the engine. We both climb off and slowly walk to where Jonah is standing. With our heads hung low, we trudge unwillingly toward our fate, staring at the ground like condemned prisoners.
“I guess I’ll leave you to it, Major,” says Carlo’s dad.
He revs up the bike, and without even a sideways glance, rides off past us and back in the direction of the stables. Jonah watches him in silence as he goes, over the rise of the hill and then across the field in the distance.
“What took you so long, boy?” Jonah says forcefully, taking us both by complete surprise, his voice echoing off the front of the house and reverberating around the driveway enclave.
“We were . . .” Carlo begins meekly.
“You were what?” booms Jonah’s voice. Carlo flinches.
I step forward in defense of Carlo, ready to take the blame for anythin
g. “We’re sorry Jonah, we didn’t . . .”
“Was I talking to you?” Jonah hisses, cutting me off. His icy glare pierces me. It’s a look that I’ve never seen from him before, and it chills me to the core. Jonah stands there in silence, hands behind his back, glaring at each of us in turn. I catch his gaze and it feels like a cold laser beam, burning a hole through my skull. My eyes flick down to the ground again and stay there.
“You two have been running around here doing whatever you want for far too long. I thought you were good, responsible kids, and yet today, I find out that not only have you been fighting, taking things that don’t belong to you without permission, and lying to me, but worst of all, deliberately causing harm to each other.” Jonah’s voice is so very serious. “Carlo. This is unacceptable behavior. Finn, I thought I raised you better than that.”
“But, Jonah . . .” I peep croakily.
“Quiet, Finn!” Jonah barks.
This is the first time Jonah has ever really scolded me, and it does not feel good at all.
“Now, after reviewing all that has come to light today, it has become glaringly obvious to me that what you children lack is proper discipline. What you need is a firm hand to guide you, to be taught the difference between right and wrong and the consequences of your actions. Carlo, you will be spending every afternoon for the rest of the summer here with me and Finn, and in that time you will both address me as Major Brogan. Furthermore, until I say otherwise, the only words I want to hear coming out of your mouths are ‘Sir, yes, sir!’ Is that clear?”
Carlo and I look at each other. He looks as afraid as I feel. My Jonah has been body-snatched and replaced by this utterly terrifying stranger.
“I said, is that clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” we say in unison.
“Good.” Jonah gives us both another icy stare. I can’t see it—my eyes are still on the dirt—but I can definitely feel it.
“Carlo. You’ve seen what Finn can do, how she can fix herself?”
