I didn’t reply, and I think he appreciated the lack of backchat. He picked the book up, handing it to me like a peace offering. “What do you want the dictionary for? It’s a bit late in the game for that, isn’t it?”
“I wanted to translate something Adam said to me.”
“What was it?” he asked.
I looked at him blankly, trying to repeat Adam’s beautiful words in my head. I remembered the look he gave me but drew a complete blank when it came to the phrase he’d spoken.
“I forget,” I muttered. At least it made him smile.
6. Charm
Six days was all it took for my pre-Adam life to fade. Spending time with him made everything else pale in comparison, which became painfully obvious when I considered the number of uncompleted school assignments I had due the next day.
This knowledge took none of the shine off seeing him waiting for me after school. Adam picked me up every day, always ten minutes late. It was the only sure-fire way I knew of avoiding the Beautifuls.
“Good afternoon, Coccinelle.”
I repeated the word, botching the pronunciation so badly that he laughed.
“You haven’t worked it out yet?” He pretended to be surprised.
“I don’t speak French,” I grumbled, shifting my stack of books from one arm to the other.
“Oh, that’s right,” he said, drawing out his words.
“You could just translate it,” I said hopefully. He smirked, and I knew he had no intention of translating anything for me.
His strong arms wrapped around me the second I was within reach and I pressed against him. The stack of books separating us kept the embrace polite.
“I’ll tell you one day,” he breathed, landing a quick kiss on my lips. “Meanwhile, what are we doing today?”
I wanted to tell him we were going to the beach, or back to my house to watch a trashy movie that, from past experience, neither of us would pay attention to. But I couldn’t. The road Alex didn’t want me to travel was getting long and winding. Adam’s knack for taking my mind off anything other than him was making me crazy, and my inability to get my homework completed was making me stupid.
“I have to go to the library,” I said grimly.
Adam’s face lit up like I’d just invited him on a trip to the moon. “Wow,” he said, astonished. “I didn’t see that coming.”
I nudged my armful of books into his chest. Taking the books from my grasp, he pulled me in close again. My fingers laced through his as I stretched up to get closer to his ear.
“I hear they have books and stuff there,” I whispered.
Adam laughed softly. “You’re impossible.”
“I know,” I agreed, composing myself instantly by pulling him across the car park by his free arm.
“Is it going to be open?” he asked. “The whole place looks deserted.”
“Mrs Young is always there. I think she lives there. She’s a scary woman, Adam Décarie.”
I knew he was intentionally lagging behind me. Changing tack, I let him walk ahead of me.
“I’ll charm her,” he teased.
“You won’t be able to. She’s un-charmable,” I replied, prodding him in the back to hurry him along.
“Superb use of the English language, Charlotte,” he mocked.
The library was deserted. Adam waited near the open door while I paced the end of the aisles looking for signs of life. I jumped when Mrs Young appeared out of nowhere and called my name.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you in here in two years, Charli,” she said gruffly. She was probably not exaggerating.
“I know, but I have a mountain of work due,” I complained. “I just need a couple of hours.”
Mrs Young shook her head so severely that I thought her wire-rimmed glasses would fly right off her face. She played the part of spinster librarian perfectly. Her ivory blouse was crease free and stiff, matching her upper lip. The heavy tweed trousers she wore probably played a part in keeping her posture so rigid. “I have a committee meeting in ten minutes,” she said, tapping her watch. “Come back tomorrow.”
Cue the gorgeous French American boy, who until that point had merely observed from the doorway.
“Ah, Mrs Young, I would be more than happy to ensure the library is locked up when we’re done,” he offered.
“And who might you be?” she asked, far less icily than she’d greeted me.
Adam extended his hand. She shook his hand, grinning like a smitten teenager. It made me smile. She wasn’t a day under sixty.
“My name is Adam Décarie. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” he said, using the unfair advantage of a gorgeous accent and equally gorgeous face to stun her.
“Oh, ah, likewise,” she stammered. “Are you any relation to Gabrielle?”
“Yes Ma’am. Gabrielle is my cousin.”
“Lovely,” she cooed.
“I will make sure Gabrielle gets the keys this evening. She can pass them on to you in the morning.”
Adam wasn’t asking permission and Mrs Young didn’t care. She handed him the bunch of keys. Just as she got to the door, he called out, “Don’t forget this.” He handed her the dated grey cardigan from the back of her desk chair. She thanked him and walked out. Adam stood with his back against the door, twirling the keys and wiggling his eyebrows like a cartoon villain.
“You’re shameless.” It was impossible to keep the smile out of my voice.
“Un-charmable, huh?” he asked smugly.
“Is no one immune, Adam?”
He walked over to me, leaned down and rested both hands on the desk behind me, trapping me at an awkward angle. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t want to. And when his lips found their way to mine, I couldn’t have cared if I never moved again. He murmured my name against my mouth and I managed a small groan of acknowledgement.
“You have work to do,” he reminded me. He stepped aside, motioning towards the aisles of books with an upward nod.
“I do,” I agreed, trying to calm my thumping heart.
By the time I’d completed enough work to scrape a passing grade, the heat between us was unbearable. Adam sat next to me, so engrossed in an Australian history book that I wondered if the feeling was one-sided.
“I’m done,” I announced, slamming my book shut.
Adam barely glanced up. “Charli, did you know that Australia is the sixth largest country in the world?”
Groaning, I buried my head in my hands, making him laugh. He slapped his book shut, reached over and pulled me into his lap.
We stared at each other for a long moment. I tried to guess what he was seeing – something I’d done from the minute I met him. I swallowed hard, desperate for him to make a move but not confident enough to do it myself.
Finally he leaned forward, slowly skimming his lips along my jaw. Unable to slow my racing heart or thoughts any longer, I knotted my hands through his hair, drawing his lips to mine. I had no idea how far I was prepared to go. All of the lines I’d carefully set myself blurred into the distance. Being close to him was all I could think about and at that point in time, I couldn’t get close enough. His hands slid up the back of my shirt and I felt small in his arms, totally absorbed in his touch, his smell and the way he breathed unevenly.
“Charli, stop,” he whispered. His hands moved to my shoulders, gently pushing me away. He inhaled deeply, pulling in one long breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing,” he said, smiling as he brushed the side of my face with his hand. I jumped off his lap, straightening my clothes. Adam stood too. “We should go, before we both ignite.” He picked my coat up off the chair.
“Yes. Books are very flammable.” My voice was small and hid none of the awkwardness I felt. I was barely able to look at him.
“Charli, I – ”
“Don’t say it.”
“Don’t say what?” he asked.
“Don’t say anything,” I m
uttered, trying to drag my coat on as we made our way to the door.
Getting out of the library was a good idea.
The drive back in to town was mostly silent. Adam concentrated on the road but my occasional glances in his direction were always met by a glance from him.
I played it out in my head over and over, trying to make sense of it all. Less than a week ago I was okay – bored, mediocre and uninspired but okay nonetheless. At this moment, sitting in this beautiful car, next to the most beautiful boy I had ever known, I realised I had no clue what I was doing.
He turned right at the turnoff, heading back into town. “Where are we going, Charli?” he asked quietly.
“Can you take me back to the café? I’ll get a lift home with Alex.”
“I can take you home if you’d like.”
“No, no. Its fine.”
It wasn’t fine. Nothing about the whole situation was fine.
I glanced at him again but his eyes remained firmly on the road ahead. I hated the shift between us.
“Wherever you want to go,” he said.
There were no cars at the café when we arrived and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I fumbled with the clasp on my seatbelt as if I was desperate to escape the car.
“Flee-itis, Charli?” he teased.
“You’re making me crazy, Adam. It’s too much.”
He reached for my hand, and kissed my fingers. “I’ll make you a deal,” he offered.
I sighed. “What’s the deal?”
“You won’t run away from this, whatever this is...”
“And in return?”
“I won’t let you get too crazy,” he said, smiling.
“Oh great.” I rolled my eyes. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
His hand swept my hair across my face. “It’s all about timing, Charlotte,” he breathed. I didn’t hate my name so much when he said it.
“Deal,” I whispered.
***
Nicole looked up from the magazine she was reading as soon as she heard the bell.
“Hi,” she said, grinning expectantly.
“Hello.”
“Where’s Adam?”
“On his way home I guess. He just dropped me off,” I replied casually.
It was too much to hope for to think Nicole would leave it at that. “Are you going to tell me anything?” she asked, grinning and frowning at the same time. “Are you okay? You seem a little weird.”
“I’m fine. And I’ve always been weird.”
Any intention I had of trying to explain the day’s events disappeared the minute Alex walked in.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised. Surprise was good. Surprise meant he hadn’t seen my face glued to Adam’s in the car a few minutes earlier.
He picked up the magazine that Nicole had absently tossed aside. She was usually better at concealing the fact that she read the new magazines as they came in.
“I had to come. I missed you,” I explained, following him as he returned the magazine to the display stand.
He laughed. “Liar.”
The bell jingled and Gabrielle breezed in. Her eyes flitted between Alex and the floor. Mercifully, she barely glanced at me.
It occurred to me that Adam might have mentioned Alex’s crush to her. I couldn’t think of another explanation for her nervousness. I’d never seen her anxious before and it was a good feeling. It felt as if I’d inadvertently managed to unhinge both of them without even trying.
Gabrielle approached the counter leaving Alex high and dry, glued to the spot like an idiot.
“Hello, Nicole,” she greeted, smiling for the first time since she’d walked in. “I’d like ten stamps, please.”
Nicole reached under the counter, counting out loud as she unwound the roll of stamps. “Anything else?”
Gabrielle walked to my display of postcards and slowly examined the pictures scattered across the shelf.
“Did you have something in mind?” asked Alex, seizing the opportunity to speak. By the time he finished his sentence he was standing beside her like a loyal little puppy. If he’d been cursed with a tail, it would have been wagging.
I looked across to Nicole, still behind the counter with a strip of postage stamps wound around her fingers. The look on her face wasn’t what I expected. She looked irate. She tossed her head, rolling her eyes when she saw I was looking. The smile I gave her was weak and unreassuring.
“I have been collecting these,” she explained, pointing at the row of postcards. “I thought I had them all but Adam is under the impression that there are four different pictures from the cliffs overlooking the Cove. I wondered if I might have missed one.”
“Charli?” queried Alex, probably eager not to appear as oblivious as he actually was when it came to my photography. He levelled a look at me that Gabrielle didn’t see, warning me to behave.
“There are four,” I reluctantly confirmed. “We’re waiting on more being printed. They should be here next week.”
Gabrielle nodded. It bothered me that she was collecting them. Perhaps my postcards were being used in some strange Parisienne witch ceremony to cast evil spells on me. I knew she wasn’t from Paris – Adam took pleasure in reminding me that she was from Marseille every time he heard me refer to her as the Parisienne Witch. Marseillaise Monster didn’t quite have the same ring to it.
“What do you do with them?” I asked.
If she thought it was a dumb question, she didn’t let on. “I’ve sent some to my family and friends. I am also making an album, commemorating my time here,” she replied.
“Are you leaving town?” asked Nicole, a little too excitedly.
She looked embarrassed then, and I almost felt sorry for her. “Ah, no. I have travelled rather a lot in the past. I like to keep track of places I’ve been to. These pictures are just beautiful. I’ve tried taking my own but none have been quite as special as these.” She spoke slowly, as if trying to string words together in the right order although her English was more articulate than mine.
“I’ll make sure Nicole puts some aside for you when they arrive,” said Alex.
“Sure.” Nicole’s tone was acidic, but Alex was too dazzled to notice.
I spoke again. “I can print the original pictures for you if you’d like. They’d look much better in an album than postcards.”
Alex stared at me, his umber eyes boring through me as if looking for the ulterior motive – probably because there always was one. It felt as if tiny shards of glass were stabbing at my stomach as I waited for her to shoot me down with a French expletive.
“Thank you, but I actually like the charm of the postcards.”
“Okay.” I shrugged indifferently.
“I know you’ve been spending a lot of time with Adam lately. If you come to the house I could show you my albums.”
I searched for the catch, but found nothing. “I would like that,” I replied, horrified. It was easy to convince Adam that hanging out at Gabrielle’s house was a bad idea. It wasn’t going to be so easy when she’d openly invited me.
“Would you like to come for dinner tomorrow night?” Her voice almost seemed shaky. I’d never seen a single chink in her armour, until now.
“She’d love to,” Nicole shamelessly chimed in.
I ignored her. “No thank you...I’m busy.”
“Doing what?” Alex frowned at me.
I glared at him, scolding him with my eyes. It was a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Gabrielle. She looked to the floor, clearing her throat before speaking. “Maybe another time. Talk it over with Adam.”
“Um, okay.” I murmured, leaving Alex’s question unanswered.
An awkward silence swept over the café. Nicole finally broke it. “So, just the ten stamps then?” she asked cheerily.
Gabrielle walked to the counter. “Yes. Thank you,” she said, smiling politely. She bestowed a small smile upon Alex as she walked past him. It was the most simple of gestures but enoug
h to make my six-foot-two brother buckle.
“See you, Charli,” she said.
That was inevitable. Even if I could think of a way of getting out of going to dinner, I still had to face her at school. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed, too far out of my comfort zone to find my way back.
7. Heavy Head
Weaselling out of shifts at the café was becoming increasingly difficult. Alex was on to me. Hanging out at the library for a day didn’t make me studious – it alerted him to the fact that I was falling behind.
Agreeing to cover a shift for Nicole while Carol dragged her to the dentist in Sorell for a check-up was a strategic manoeuvre on my part. According to Alex I was becoming unreliable and preoccupied, and I needed to prove him wrong. I wasn’t expecting to see Adam that day, so seeing the Audi parked at the café was a surprise. Skipping my usual afterschool rendezvous with him had done nothing but make our liaison in the library the day before seem even more awkward. I’d spent half the night analysing it and by morning my confidence was shot. He’d told me it was a timing issue, but I let darker thoughts creep in. Maybe it was a Charli issue. I was hopeful of stealing the minute I needed with him to set everything straight but the instant I got out of the car, I knew it wasn’t going to happen.
Adam sat at one of the two tables on the veranda, deep in conversation with Jasmine Tate. He looked up and saw me.
“Charli,” he breathed, sounding relieved.
“Charli, we were just talking about you.” Jasmine’s voice oozed innuendo.
“I’ll bet you were.” I dragged myself up the four small steps.
Saving Wishes Page 7
