“That was intense,” I said, exhaling. “How’re you feeling?”
She smiled, but she seemed distracted. “Good, I guess. You?”
“Good.” I grabbed her hands, but they hung limply in mine. “I know we both want this headlining thing really badly, but I still want to be with you. This summer has been incredible. There has to be a way we can figure this out. Maybe Delia can feature us both? Or maybe we work together to get a photo to headline the campaign? What do you think?”
I waited quietly for her response. As much as I wanted the campaign, I also wanted to be with Kiara. The last two months felt like breathing fresh air after a lifetime of being trapped inside.
“Yeah, maybe,” she said. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I gave her a big hug, hoping we were on the same page, but unable to ignore the doubts creeping through the shadows.
It’s been a week since that conversation. A week since she started pulling away and pushing herself back into her photography. I notice the stress on her face during the garden parties. She doesn’t chat with the guests anymore, and she obsesses over getting the ideal shot by the gazebo.
It’s been my mission lately to get her out of her funk.
And that means it’s time for a prank.
When I knocked on her door, my plan was to bring her back to the canyon where we cliff jumped. With all the extra time I’ve had on my hands, I’ve crafted a convincing, life-sized cardboard cutout of Kade Monroe using his headshot.
Delia was curious to know why I was using all the spare cardboard in her office, but I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t want it to risk it getting back to Kiara.
I set up the cardboard cutout by our perch in the canyon. I couldn’t wait to see Kiara’s face when she spotted Kade popping out of a bush.
“Jonathan!” Delia calls out from the porch as I make my way through the garden, wrapped up in my thoughts. “Would you be a dear and help Vin with the huppah? He’s in the games room trying to lift it himself. I keep telling him he’s not as young as he once was — the rate he’s going he’ll break his back.”
“Sure thing.” I walk through the garden to the games room, and there I spot Vin hidden behind the intricately ornate huppah.
He struggles to drag it along the floor -- but he’s only made it to the pool table. He breathes heavily, resting among the flowers tied delicately to one of the poles.
On my approach, he whips the flowers out of his face. “When I offered to help Delia, she told me I just needed to move some flowers. This wasn’t what I had in mind.”
I grin. “Let me help.”
“Thanks, Jonathan.”
I lift one end of the huppah and Vin takes the other.
“One of the last weddings of the season, and it’s the only one that requires such an unwieldy — albeit beautiful — canopy. Here I thought I got away without having to move this ridiculous thing all summer.”
“You must’ve jinxed yourself.”
We pivot the huppah as we struggle through a doorway. I can’t believe that the end is almost here. In just three weeks, I’ll be back home, facing my parents, and away from Kiara. My heart falls and I almost drop the huppah.
“Got it?” Vin asks, panic in his voice.
“Sorry.”
We maneuver the canopy down the steps of the porch. After finally installing it at the far end of the garden, Vin stands next to me, and wipes the sweat from his brow.
“I can hardly believe it,” he says between breaths. “It’ll be a fun wedding. I’ve got to hand it to you, Jonathan. You and Kiara have both taken some spectacular photos over the summer. I hope you can relax and have a good time.”
He’s right, I need to take advantage of this time with Kiara. She’s been so distant lately; it’ll be great to spend some time together again.
I look out over the wedding decorations throughout the garden, trying to commit the scene to memory. And yet, there’s a familiar feeling of unease. At every big event this summer, I’ve dreaded seeing one of my close friends or family members. I’ve been lucky to this point, no one I know has come to the Inn. But I know that Isabella’s cousin is getting married this summer, and she’s Jewish.
What are the chances? I shake myself off and the feeling of dread disappears.
I’m probably just uneasy about the situation with Kiara. Seriously, what are the chances?
43
Kiara
I add the finishing touch to my outfit for the evening — a white ribbon to tie back my hair.
I assess the final product in the mirror and feel satisfied. My little black dress has been the key to surviving the parties and events at the Inn this summer. Likely because it can be worn in a myriad of ways.
Tonight, I’m wearing it halter-style, with my hair elegantly swept into a half-ponytail. Since arriving at the Inn, my ability to dress up has improved. I’ve tried out a few different hairstyles and I’ve worn all of my dresses and skirts at least once. I’d laugh to see my mom’s face now. While I won’t say that I enjoy wearing dresses, I don’t hate them anymore.
I apply a touch of mascara and lip gloss before placing my camera around my neck to complete the ensemble. It’s as good as it’s gonna get.
I sigh as I open the door to my cabin. It’s one of the last ceremonies of the season and, so, one of my last chances to capture wedding magic at the Inn.
These past ten days have felt like a lot of work, especially compared to how I spent the first two months at Legacy Inn. I’ve captured an endless amount of photos, taking advantage of the golden hours at sunrise and sunset. I’ve thought of little else. I take my meals to-go to ensure I don’t miss out on any photo ops.
It’s been especially difficult seeing the strain with Jonathan. A large part of me wants to spend time with him, I wish we could talk and hang out as we used to do. But I have other obligations and those need to come first.
I’m excited for the wedding tonight. Hopefully, we’ll be able to catch up once we’re done shooting photos.
I jog along the gravel pathway leading to the garden. Delia asked me to take photos of the bridal party before the wedding, and I jumped at the opportunity. Unfortunately, in true Kiara fashion, I’m running late.
The garden looks beautiful when I arrive — there’s white tulle everywhere and an exquisite huppah at the front of the aisle. It will be a stunning wedding. I get a couple of photos of the garden in wedding-preparation mode and then head to one of the massive guest rooms.
I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle, intending to quietly walk into the room and introduce myself without a fuss. The bride is usually freaking out around now; I don’t want to add to the chaos.
The door pops open before I turn the handle, and I come face to face with someone I know very well.
Isabella Hall. Head cheerleader and Jonathan’s ex-girlfriend.
She raises her eyebrows. “I know you. Edendale High, right?”
My voice sticks in my throat. I was not expecting Isabella — or anyone else from Edendale — to be a guest here. It’s like opening a box of cake and finding a toad. I don’t necessarily dislike her, but she comes from the ruling class of high school. And, historically, that class has not been friendly to me.
“Kiara.” For some bizarre reason, I offer her my hand.
She doesn’t take my hand, instead choosing to stare at my face, frowning, waiting for that spark of recognition. And then it comes.
“Kiara the Queen!”
I wince. Coming from Jonathan, the nickname is playful banter. From Isabella, it’s poison.
Isabella opens the door wide. The entire bridal party is facing me.
Isabella bows. “Allow me to introduce your Majesty, Queen Kiara. Dressed for the royal ball and everything.” Isabella wears a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
My face turns red.
Isabella brushes past me, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m off to the garden — but don’t take too many photos without me.”
The bridal party stares, the bride, in particular, looking confused.
My face is undoubtedly a shade of red that beets would be proud of. I tentatively hold up my camera. “I’m the photographer?”
My words break the spell, and the room explodes into chatter. Thankfully, no one looks my way or acknowledges me. I commit myself to the job and wander through the room, taking photos as everyone gets ready for the big event.
When Isabella returns to the room, I make a conscious effort to avoid her.
“Okay, now let’s try fake laughing!” I call out to the group in front of the gazebo.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen look at each other awkwardly and then force a laugh. But I know what comes next — the fake laughter quickly turns into genuine laughter. I capture the photos and smile.
I’ve been down by the gazebo taking portraits for a while now. This must be the twentieth photo of this group alone.
The entire wedding party has come down to the gazebo in bursts for their portraits. We had the bride and groom, the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, the parents, the family, and everyone else. I tick off the standard wedding checklist in my head. I’ve gotten used to this routine this summer.
Oddly enough, one person seems to be missing from this set of photos. Isabella Hall.
She was all over me to get photos of her as the bridal party was heading down to the garden. She wanted photos of herself alone, seated at the makeup table, sitting on one of the couches, looking out the window... The list was endless. But now that there are group photos, she has disappeared.
Not that I’m complaining. Isabella has an unnerving way of laughing at me without directly making fun of me. It’s like everything she says is an inside joke I’m not a part of.
As the wedding party dissipates and everyone moves back to the garden, I think back to Isabella’s words when we were in the guest suite taking photos.
“He’s going to love these.”
She said this over and over, going so far as to grab my camera to look back over the shots.
Who was she referring to? As I try to push away the lingering curiosity, I can’t ignore the slight feeling of unease. Somehow, over the summer, I forgot about the elite Edendale clique. And, perhaps worse, I forgot that Jonathan is a key part of that group. For a time, he and Isabella were heading it up.
According to Edendale High’s gossip sources, Isabella and Jonathan broke it off in the spring. But people change their minds. Could she want him back?
And does he ever want her back? The thought feels toxic and dread overwhelms over me. The whole summer, we lived in a bubble, just the two of us. But now the bubble has popped. Does he think about her?
No. I know better than that. He asked me on that amazing date; he asked me to be his girlfriend. There’s no way that meant nothing.
I approach the garden, smiling. We’ve had such a great summer. And now that the gazebo portraits are out of the way, it’s just a matter of taking a few garden pictures and we’ll be able to hang out for the rest of the evening.
But first, water.
I walk into the garden and head in the direction of the bar.
The garden is breathtaking, a scene from a fairytale. Slow music starts, lanterns emit a soft yellow light, and flowers are scattered through the space. People sway to the song, smiling, laughing.
I wander over to the bar, but Randy is nowhere to be seen. I sneak behind the counter and grab a glass from below, filling it quickly.
I sip my water and look over the crowd. Where’s Jonathan?
I know he’s probably wearing his black polo shirt and slacks. He calls it his wedding uniform.
A flash of blonde hair catches my eye as Isabella twirls around the dance floor. I roll my eyes at her dramatic spins. She’s laughing gently and gets close to her dance partner, leaning in flirtatiously. She wraps her arms around him comfortably, an enormous smile on her face.
I squint to see who she’s dancing with — perhaps it’s the guy she was referring to earlier when I was taking her photo?
Who is your date tonight, Isabella Hall? Who is this mystery man?
The guy spins her around and my heart stops in my chest.
Jonathan.
The blood drains from my face and I’m frozen as he spins her again and dips her. She’s leaning into him, close against his chest. As they dance, her eyes closed, reality slaps me across the face.
Jonathan and Isabella.
They’re together.
Dread and shame consume me as I watch them pushed together, swaying happily. The rose-colored glasses have lifted and I’m left with harsh reality: I am a complete idiot.
If they’re together, that means that our hang-outs meant nothing. It was stupid of me to think that they did. He was just using me for my photo knowledge. Was there any truth to any of his words?
“Woah, Kiara, you okay?” Randy’s voice is blurred through the ringing in my ears.
I’m frozen in my shock, desperately wanting to disappear. I believed him.
Randy places her hand on my arm and gives me a light shake, bringing me back to life.
“I’m not feeling well.” My voice sounds far away. “I think I might go back to my cabin. Would you mind telling Delia that I’m sick?”
“Sure.” Randy says and I almost want to look at her, but I wouldn’t dare.
I’m sure she’s seen Jonathan and Isabella together. She’s probably taking pity on me for ever thinking he could care about me.
I abruptly turn away and leave the bar, rushing through the garden as the slow song ends.
When I reach the darkness of the lawn just beyond, I break into a run.
44
Jonathan
The sunlight beams in through the window, waking me up. I rub my eyes, knowing already that there are deep, dark circles under them.
I did not sleep well.
The wedding last night was beautiful. The decorations were sweet and everyone looked great. The DJ was surprisingly good, and I had an awesome time dancing with Randy, Vin, and the kids from school.
However, I didn’t get to dance with the one person I wanted to dance with the most — Kiara.
I saw her earlier in the evening as she went down to the gazebo and I literally stopped and stared. She looked amazing. Her hair was half up and her dress showed off her curves perfectly. I could not wait to spend the evening laughing and dancing with her. I was going to take her to the canyon as soon as we could get a moment away.
Last night, I also wanted to ask her if she’d still be my girlfriend when we get back to Edendale High. If I’ve learned anything this summer, it’s that I feel my absolute best when I’m with her.
Unlike with Isabella.
I sigh as I think back to the minutes that I had to dance with her last night. She looked hot, everyone could see that — Isabella always looks hot. But I felt nothing close to what I feel for Kiara.
It shocked me when Isabella came to me right after the wedding ceremony. I was checking something on my camera when she stopped in front of me.
“Hey babe,” she said in her sultry low voice. I knew immediately who it was, and I plastered a fake smile on my face — she calls everyone babe.
“Isabella.” I looked up from my camera, my heart sinking.
It was just my luck — one of the last events at the Inn and Isabella showed up. I didn’t want anyone from my friend group to see me here. But Isabella? She’s the worst one.
Isabella did her obnoxious two-cheek kissing thing. “I wasn’t expecting to see you! What are you doing here? Aren’t you meant to be at Momentum?”
“Ah yeah, I’m just…”
I tried to think of an excuse, anything to keep her off my trail. But nothing came to mind. My eyes darted around the area, looking for an escape. Kiara was standing over by Randy, taking a photo of guests at the bar. She was laughing and smiling, and a sense of calm came over me.
It was time to tell the truth.
“I’m a photographer here,” I said, focusing back onto Isabella.
Her mouth popped open in shock as she looked me up and down. “Oh wow. Wait until Lucas hears about this!”
My resolve crashed around me. Lucas could not know about this, especially not now. I’d never hear the end of it. “Please, don’t tell anyone,” I said, not bothering to disguise the panic in my voice. “Not yet. Everyone back home thinks I’m at Momentum. I need to be the one to break it to them.”
I pictured the disappointment in my parents’ faces. Not only would they be disappointed, but also betrayed. We weren’t close as a family, not anymore, but that didn’t mean they deserved to find out I was lying through Edendale’s rumor mill. I needed to tell them myself.
“Seriously. Please.” My voice was low and urgent.
Isabella grinned like a cat that cornered a mouse. If you wanted to ask a favor from Isabella, the price was always the same: your soul.
“Maybe I can keep your secret, Jonathan. Depends on what you can do for me.” She traced her finger along my chest and I resisted the urge to step back. She glanced towards the tables by the dance floor, her voice dropping to a whisper. “See the guy over there? The one with the gorgeous blue jacket?”
He was tall, dark, and obviously athletic. He had a beard and dark hair cut close to his head. He was wearing sunglasses and looked effortlessly cool.
In other words, Isabella’s type.
“His name’s Mason, he’s a freshman at Montana State,” Isabella whispered and then abruptly turned away as Mason glanced our way. She leaned further into me. “I’ve been trying to catch his eye all night, but he’s playing hard to get. I have a feeling I need to make him a little jealous. Catch what I’m saying?”
She stepped back and winked at me before adjusting the collar on my polo shirt.
My lips were in a thin line. I wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible.
Isabella smiled. “If you dance with me for one slow song to make him jealous, I’ll keep your little secret.”
Chasing Sunrise: A Sweet YA Enemies-to Lovers Romance (Inn for the Summer) Page 13