“Sounds like dad’s been talking to you again?” I laugh.
“Speaking of dad…the pancakes. You better get down there before your sister eats them all.”
“Okay, I will,” I say, and she slips out the door. I glance around my room. The dress I wore lies in a heap in front of my closet and I stop to pick it up. I run my fingers along the little flowers. What is it about this dress?
I should burn it because now it’s the dress I turned down Hunter’s proposal in. The dress that will always remind me of last night. Of the guilt. Of the pain in his eyes.
I should get rid of it.
But as I hold it, I know I can’t. This dress...I can’t let it go. I don’t know what it is or why. But when I hold the fabric, I feel a mix of happiness loss. What should be and what isn’t. It calls me in the same way Lake Superior does. In the same way my dreams call me.
The smell of pancakes wafts up the stairs. I drop the dress. Time to let this go and wrap myself in the love of my family.
To concentrate on what I have and stop dwelling on what I don’t.
Chapter Seven
Adam
There are limited options for eating out in Star Harbor during the cold months—you either get appetizers at the bar or a meal at the diner. There is a pizza place that only delivers, but that would mean eating at home and I’m not in the mood to explain Zane to my mom. Dozens of places open up in the summer—fudge shops, ice cream shops, gift stores, and a fancier restaurant at the end of town, but in the height of winter, they’re just shadows of warmer months with boards stapled to the windows.
Zane waits for me, leaning against the truck in driveway when I emerge fifteen minutes later. My mom was disappointed when I cancelled movie night, but when I told her I was going into town to meet some people, she lit up. “Zoey, right? I think she’s working at the diner tonight. You could give her a ride home—”
“Mom, please.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, don’t worry about me. I’m going to have a glass of wine and watch a chick flick. Go have some fun.” She shooed me out the door.
I pull my keys out of my pocket as I walk around the truck. “Kind of presumptuous of you?” I ask him.
“Nah,” he says. “I knew you were coming.” He lifts his eyebrow as his eyes shift over the dented blue truck with more rust than paint. “Nice ride.”
“I’m truck-sitting for a friend.”
“How kind of you.” He tilts his head and smirks, brushing his hand along the door handle. “I’m not sure your friend needs a truck-sitter. Nobody’s gonna want this thing.”
“Just get in the damn truck, okay. If you want to eat that is.”
He sighs and pulls the passenger door open, climbing inside. “I get the radio,” he declares. “And exactly where are we going to eat around here? It’s not like there’s a McDonald’s around the corner or anything.”
“The diner.” I clench my teeth while Zane fiddles with the radio. It’s the last place I want to go, but it’s my only option. The bars will be loud and obnoxious at this time of night and not the ideal place if I’m going to get any answers out of Zane. So, the diner it is. I hate the place. It’s small and outdated with paneled walls covered in pictures and worn leather booths and the smell of grease that has permanently embedded itself in the menus.
But that’s not why I hate it. It’s the slap of the white shoes, the blue uniforms, the white collars, the names stitched in black across the apron.
The bell tinkles when we walk in. Liz looks up at us from the counter, her brown hair tucked back behind her head. She’s young but being a single mother has left permanent dark shadows around her eyes. She’s managed the diner for as far back as I can remember—I think her grandma is the owner. I love her—everyone in town loves her. Her heart is huge, and her kindness stretches across this timeline just like it did in back in the other one.
The timeline where Sage wore one of those aprons and called Liz her boss. She’s the only person that works at the diner that hasn’t changed. Bonnie, one of Sage’s favorite co-workers, is not in Star Harbor. And Sage is missing too, of course. Once again, that avalanche of changes.
The diner’s empty like the dark night and Liz hands us two menus. “Take your pick boys,” she says.
“Thanks.” I take the plastic cards listing the general fare. The menu is the same. The options are limited to burgers, omelets, and hash browns. I can recite the thing from memory.
Liz stops us as we start to pass, her eyes drifting quizzically to Zane. “Who’s this?” she asks.
“Just an old friend,” I answer. “Nobody important.”
Liz smiles and pats my back. “Well, I’m glad to see you have some friends. You spend too much time by yourself.” Apparently, my mother has been talking about me.
Zane raises his eyebrow at me. “Nobody important. I’d say being your big brother is very important. Don’t you think—”
I shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” I growl under my breath. “And let’s go sit down. He follows me to a table in the back, making a dramatic scene of checking out the menu, flipping it back and forth.
“Is this it? No pizza?”
“Pizza has to be delivered. And I’m not about to explain to my mom why you’re here.”
“That bites.” He sits back into the booth, draping his hand across the bench. “I thought you were going to hook me up with a bed tonight.”
“Couch, maybe. You’re not getting my bed.”
“You’re a crappy little brother.” He rubs his nose and flips the menu back and forth, back and forth.
“The menu isn’t going to change the more you flip it over,” I say sarcastically. “And maybe you’re a crappy big brother.” Or a brother who likes to get on my nerves.
Zane ignores me, his gaze drifting behind me toward the counter. “This place sure looks the same. Is that hot chick Amber still here?”
“I—I—” Was she? I guess I didn’t know. I know Liz is, Bonnie isn’t, and Zoey is new. But Amber? I scratch my chin. I avoid this place as often as possible, turning down my mom’s offers for dinner in town as much as I can. When I do run out of excuses, though, I avert looking at the waitresses as much as possible. Because when I do, I see her. Walking toward me, her blue skirt swaying, her blond hair streaming behind her, her smile like a summer day.”
“Earth to Adam. Or should I say Perseida to Adam.”
“What?” I shake off the image. Zane’s leaning his elbows on the table, his face like a question mark.
“Amber?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Sorry.”
“Bummer.”
“Adam!” A high shriek pierces the air as a curly brown-haired girl bounces across the restaurant. She’s practically skipping, her ponytail skipping with her. “I’m so so so so glad you are here. And that I get to take your order.” She presses her order pad to her heart like she’s hugging a stuffed animal. Really? This girl is crazier than Zane—and that says a lot.
“Hi Zoey,” I say slowly, hoping she doesn’t read excitement in my voice. Mom says she’s had a crush on me forever, always chasing after Lucas and me. She’s only a year or two behind us, but she stayed in Star Harbor to take online college classes, I think. She works at the diner part time, which is another good reason to avoid this place. Mom seems to think she’s sweeter than the fudge on Mackinac Island and pushes me toward her constantly. Not interested.
Zoey hangs around for far too long. After we place our orders and she finally leaves, Zane leans toward me. “So, this timeline has a much peppier version of Sage?”
“Whatever.”
“She certainly has it bad for you. Oh, Adam this. Oh, Adam that,” he says in a sing-song voice.
I glance toward the kitchen hoping she’s not returning anytime soon. “Enough about Zoey. We came here to eat so you can tell me all about what Benji told you.”
“Fine,” he says. “Eat first, talk later.” And once again, I want to throttle him.
“While we wait, why don’t you fill me on Miss Zoey?”
“Nope.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re not going to go get Sage—” He winks.
“Nope.”
“Why didn’t you go get Sage?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Your truest true love. Wouldn’t you be at her doorstep by now showering her with flowers and chocolate?”
I release a breath. It’s getting harder and harder to keep my irritation in check with him. “I’m not going to get her—ever. I nearly killed her twice, broke her heart more times than any girl deserves. I already told you, I’m not about to mess up her life. Not this time.”
“Fine.” Zane holds up his hands. “But you don’t have to live like some pious priest or something. Zoey’s kind of cute.”
“Drop it.”
“Well, do you mind if I—"
“Drop it. Okay? Just drop it.”
“Fine,” he says. But when Zoey sets our plates in front of us, he raises an eyebrow and smiles.
“I’m so glad you came in tonight, Adam,” she coos. “I was wondering if we could get dinner together sometime. Catch up? It would be kind of fun, you know, talk about old times and stuff.” She leans closer, balancing her hands on the table as her gaze meets mine. Zane nods his head and puckers his lips. I kick him.
“Ow,” he cries, and Zoey turns to him.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
Zane smiles brightly. “Yeah, you know, my friend and I were just talking about you. I think Adam would like to—”
The doorbell rings and Zoey turns. An older guy walks in his face out of view, while his boots slam across the floor to a table near a window.
“Hold that thought,” she says, with a quick glance back at us. As she saunters over to the table, the guy turns his face to her and the air whooshes from my lungs.
“Hey look, he’s the guy I—"
“It’s Mark,” I say. “Sage’s mom’s crazy boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I pulled the ring off him the last time I was here. You know, in that different timeline. Whoa, Sage doesn’t have to deal with him anymore. She’s never had to deal with him.” Zane drones on while the anger flows through me. As happy as that should make me feel, it doesn’t. Because this guy still hit Sage—whether she remembers it or not. He hurt her and I hate him. More than Liam Whats-his-name. More than Zane. More than Roswell.
I’m tempted to go over and punch him. To tell him what I really think of him. But he lifts his hand to scratch his nose, and something shines off his finger.
A ring. No, the ring.
Chapter Eight
Sage
Shopping with Stella is like trying to find what’s stinking up the fridge. But I smile anyway. Even after the fourth store she’s dragged me in to try on the fifteenth outfit that is still not ‘the one’.
“If you don’t find something soon,” I glance at the time on my phone, “there won’t be any time for lunch.”
She frowns as she studies herself in the mirror. “I just can’t decide…hmm. Can you get me the purple one again?”
“Stella, really? It’s a good thing I love you so much.” And feel so darn guilty for leaving you.
“You do, don’t you?” There’s a hint of doubt in her voice.
“Of course, why would you ask that?”
“Well, you loved Hunter and now you don’t.” Her eyes are as wide as her voice as small. It’s real fear in her expression and it tugs at my heart.
“Oh, Stella.” I hug her close. “You’re my sister. That’s never going to change. I’m going to be in your life forever. I promise.”
“Me too.” She smiles. “I’m going to be in your life forever too. Now about that purple dress…”
“Seriously?” I roll my eyes before slipping out of the fitting room. How quickly that girl can go from 4 to 14. I’m going through the racks of dresses when I hear a squeal from behind me.
“Sage, oh my god. Is that you?” I turn to see my friend Rachel launch herself into my arms. We were friends all through high school, but I can’t remember the last time I saw her. She had longer hair, I think. Now it’s cut into a short bob that frames her delicate face. “It is so good to see you. I can’t believe you’re here. Are you visiting?”
“Just for the weekend.”
“Oh wow. Hunter must be thrilled. He misses you so—” She covers her mouth when she sees my frown. “Oh no, what’s wrong?”
I close my eyes and release a breath. Is it written across my face? I open them and faintly say, “He proposed last night.”
“Oh wow.” Rachel’s eyes widen. “And…?” I hold up my hand, my empty hand. “Oh wow, Sage. I really thought you guys would be together forever. Everybody thought you’d be together.”
“Me too,” I say sadly, my eyes dropping to the floor. I didn’t know how hard this would be, telling other people. Seeing the sympathy in their eyes. I don’t deserve it I broke his heart.
“Then why? I’m assuming if he did the asking, this was your choice.” She shakes her head. “I just don’t understand.”
“I don’t know. I…” Words, answers, explanations—they all escape me. “I don’t—”
“Sage.” Stella’s voice carries over the racks of dresses. “Where are you?” Thank you, Stella.
“I gotta go,” I say, pointing in Stella’s direction. “We’re kind of in a hurry. It really was good to see you.”
“You too,” Rachel says. “And Sage, before you go. Um…since you and Hunter are obviously not a thing anymore, you wouldn’t mind if I ask him out?”
“Uh, what?” Her question stuck in my ears, unable to penetrate my mind. Unable to make any sense. “Uh…Hunter. Uh, yeah. Of course.” Hunter dating someone else. He’s my boyfriend. He’s…He was. My head is spinning, like my world has been knocked off its axis. I’ve always been Sage: Stella’s sister, Hunter’s girlfriend, a daughter, and a granddaughter…
I live in Arizona, go to college in Duluth, and someday I’ll marry Hunter and we’ll live in Arizona and we’ll…
We’ll…
I…
Who am I?
I watch Rachel walk from the store, her dark hair swinging behind her. Will Hunter say yes? Will he fall in love with her? Will he propose to her? Will he—? I shake my head. I have no right. He’s not mine anymore and if he can find happiness with Rachel or somebody else, I should be thrilled. Or I will be thrilled.
“Sage,” Stella calls again.
“Yeah, I’m coming.”
* * *
After narrowing it down to the purple dress and another outfit—I’m such a sucker I bought her both—we went to lunch at her favorite restaurant. Over large chocolate milkshakes, she updated me on all the latest school gossip and friend drama.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “Because you’re not listening.” Guilt cuts through me. I promised her this day, and my mind keeps drifting.
“Yes, Stella. I’m sorry. I’m listening, really I am.”
“Well, I’m not repeating it,” she says. “So, you better listen now because we don’t have much time. Grandma and Grandpa are coming for dinner.”
“I know. Maybe afterwards we can stay up and watch a movie and make caramel popcorn. Okay?” It’s always been one of her favorite things to do, making caramel on the stove and pouring it over cookie sheets of fresh popcorn.
“Late? How late?” she bubbles.
“As late as you can. I have to fly back to school tomorrow so I want to get in as much time with you as possible.” I brush a strand of hair from my face and take another sip of my shake.
Stella raises her eyebrows. “Well, I can stay up pretty late you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” I grin.
Stella tilts her face and presses a finger to her cheek. “So, now that you’re not marrying Hunter does that mean he won’t come over anymore? Or to my soccer games?” Her lower lip trembles briefly, tugging at my heart. It wasn’t only Hunter I hurt when I turned down his proposal. He has been amazi
ng to Stella over the years, always going to her events that I had to miss being so far away. His parents and my parents were good friends. Not to mention all the friends we shared. I sigh as I think of all the collateral damage my decision is going to cause.
Maybe I should call up Hunter and tell him I lost my mind and said no when I really meant to say yes, and…
But that is a lie. Because Hunter is not the one. I feel it in every part of me. In every breath. He is not the one. As great as he is, as much as I really do love him.
But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m giving all this up—this reality, for some hazy dream I have now and then? For some weird feeling when I put on a dress or stare at my reflection or hear a name? I really need to get checked out. Maybe I have a brain tumor or something?
“Sage,” Stella asks again. “Do you think he’ll still come?”
“I don’t know.” I say. “Probably not. Now that we’re not getting married, you probably won’t see Hunter very much. I’m really sorry.” Her crestfallen face turns my stomach. “Maybe I’ll try to get back more often. Try to make your events myself. And after I graduate in a few months maybe I’ll go to school or take a job close by next year. How does that sound?”
“Really?” She perks up.
“Really,” I answer. “No promises, but I’m sure going to try.”
“Oooh.” She rubs her hands together. “Maybe it’s good you broke up with Hunter. Because otherwise he might’ve moved to where you’re at and then I might not see you anymore and—”
“Okay that’s enough. Why don’t we go over to the makeup store? You’ve only got a few months before Mom will let you wear makeup. I need ideas of what to buy for your birthday.”
“Almost six,” Stella says, crossing her arms.
Remember the Knight Page 5