It isn’t what he says but the way he says it that makes my heart drop. He seems…sad? Maybe he’s just thinking about the girl that broke his heart again.
“Can I ask you another question?” he asks.
I nod.
“Do you want it to be him?”
I blink. “What kind of a question is that?” I ask.
He grins. “An easy one, if you know the answer.”
I’m about to argue that he’s being a jerk—that everything may appear simple to him from the outside but there’s more to it. But then I hear my name from across the room. It’s not exactly a library voice either.
I whip my head around to see Carmen in the doorway. Everyone else spins around too. Carmen mouths the word sorry to everyone before waving her hand for me to come.
I turn back to Andy, whose sadness has disappeared. He keeps his eyes on me instead of scolding Carmen.
“I should go,” I say.
“I think the whole library knows that. I’ll see you around.”
I smile as if to thank him for not making a big deal about Carmen’s lack of awareness, but I’m actually relieved that Carmen came when she did. Do I want my mystery admirer to be Pete? Seriously, how am I supposed to answer that? This isn’t some silly scavenger hunt; it’s a way to fill in the blanks. My chance to remember.
But Andy doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know a lot of things.
Because you haven’t told him, I remind myself.
As I join Carmen, she gives me a look that says what was taking so long? But she must still be mildly embarrassed about the whole library looking at her, because we walk out together in silence. The second we’re outside and can finally talk again, she blurts out, “Was that nerd bothering you?”
It takes me a second to realize she’s talking about Andy.
“No. His name is Andy,” I say, correcting her. “He works there.”
“Andy?” she repeats. There’s a long pause like she’s waiting for me to say something. “You’re way too nice to guys sometimes. It’s not like you’re a walking charity case.”
I force a smile. There’s no point in explaining to her that Andy’s more than some guy I just met. It would only make her angry to know he’s who I was with the night I ditched the game. Maybe that’s why instead I say what she wants to hear.
“So, what should I wear on Friday?”
She smiles instantly. It’s only as she starts rambling on about possibilities that I realize Andy still has my last paper heart.
* * *
Later that night when I’m lying in bed, I message Andy.
You still have my paper heart.
He responds with a phone number so I text it with the same message.
You still have my paper heart.
He sends me a crying laugh emoji and then an actual response.
I’ll give it back after your date on Friday.
Um…why?
Why not?
I groan. Why is he being difficult?
Just forget him. It’s not like I really need Andy, I tell myself. I already memorized the clue: See a castle from a view as beautiful as you. The only thing I can’t remember is if the number underneath is a 6 or a 9. Or 16 or 19. Okay, maybe I do need that heart.
I type back.
Seriously?
A few seconds go by that feel like forever until he responds.
Let’s make a deal. If you wait until after Friday, I’ll help you solve this one. You said you haven’t solved it, right? And I bet I can help…
He’s so infuriating, especially when he’s right.
Deal
* * *
But even though I make this deal, I can’t get the next paper heart out of my mind. Later that night when I’m alone in bed with Wi-Fi, I google what I wanted to hours ago: Castles near Poughkeepsie.
I’m hoping that more than a White Castle shows up—I doubt my admirer would send me to a burger joint, but what other castles could they be talking about in the Hudson Valley? I’m shocked, however, to find a whole list of them. The first article on my screen is 13 Magnificent Castles in Upstate New York Straight Out of a Fairy Tale.
My jaw drops. Thirteen? At this rate, I’ll never find out who my secret admirer is.
But it needs to be a castle from a beautiful view, I remind myself. As I scan the list, there’s one in particular that jumps out to me, in Beacon, a couple of towns over. Well, sort of in Beacon. It’s a castle on an island in the Hudson River that you can see from Beacon. Bingo. From there, I’m on a roll. All I do is google How to see Bannerman Castle in Beacon and up pops a link to Breakneck Ridge, a hiking trail along the river that brings you to an overlook. A beautiful view.
Who needs Andy or his fun facts when you have Google? I think smugly as I shut my laptop.
Chapter 13
Even though I made a deal with Andy that I’d wait, I can’t get Bannerman Castle out of my mind. I have two options. One, wait for Andy like I said I would, or two, find a new way to Bannerman without him. By lunchtime the next day I have an idea: I’m going to rally the troops like old times.
“Who’s up for an afterschool hike?” I say once everyone takes the first bite of their salad.
Carmen raises her eyebrow. “Hike?”
I’m not sure if she’s surprised I want to do something or just against hiking in general. Maybe both. I’ll have to lay it on thick.
“Yes, there’s this hiking trail called Breakneck that is supposed to be a blast,” I say. “There’s a loop that goes all the way up the mountain. It’s supposed to be pretty challenging.”
I look across the table to see nothing but blank faces. So I try my last resort.
“We could get really cool photos from the top.”
“I’m in!” Carmen says. Jess and Katie quickly nod too.
“Great. Today?” I suggest, everything falling perfectly into place.
But then Carmen shakes her head. “I’m hanging out with Anthony tonight.”
I forgot that Carmen’s mom lets her do stuff that late on a school night. My parents would never.
“Well, what if we go right after school?” I ask. “Anthony has basketball practice anyways, so you can’t hang out with him until later.”
“I’m free,” Katie offers.
I turn to Jess. “Same,” she says.
Carmen crosses her arms. “I’m not saying I don’t want to go—just not today. I don’t even have hiking gear.”
“Wear your gym clothes—that’s what I was planning on doing. Don’t you have those Lululemon leggings in your locker? And then after we go you can tell Anthony how much fun you had while he was at practice.”
She studies my face like she’s searching for the real reason I want to go so badly, but I just give her a smile that says pretty please?
“Fine,” she says, uncrossing her arms. “Meet at my car after school.”
And just like that, I rally the troops.
* * *
“So is this trail called Breakneck because you can actually break your neck?” Jess asks on our hike up the mountain. “Because I’m not trying to do that.”
“It is high up,” Katie says. At first, I’m worried she’s going to suggest not going all the way to the ridge, but she squeals, “The pictures are going to be amazing!”
“Yeah, they will.” Carmen smiles. Her hair is in a perfect topknot, ready for a photo op.
“You guys are ridiculous,” I say.
“We’re ridiculous?” Carmen retorts. “This is the first time you’ve wanted to do anything in forever.”
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” I ask. but as I say it a part of me feels guilty because I have an ulterior motive.
Carmen doesn’t notice. “You are! And I love it!” Car
men shouts right there in the middle of the woods. Then she laughs loudly in my direction. “It’s good to get out. It’ll give you practice for your date with Pete on Friday.
“Carmen,” Katie hisses.
“What? I can shout,” Carmen says, brushing her off. Then there’s a mischievous look on her face that makes me know she’s going to yell even louder. “I love my friends!!!” she roars.
The four of us laugh and keep on hiking up the mountain. There’s nothing but bare trees and fallen pinecones along the trail. Luckily, the snow from the other week has melted, so we’re able to make it up the steep trail. It’s hard—way harder than I expected it to be—but we still manage to talk on our way up.
At first, we joke about the funniest paper hearts we have received. Katie received the best one from a guy in her Latin class. It said I think we’ve had our eye on each other all year—Carpe DM me sometime. I give him points for creativity. It’s definitely something Andy would say. I almost tell my friends about him, but then I hold back. How do I tell them about Andy without disclosing the paper hearts? Suddenly I feel guilty for keeping this from my friends. Since when do I keep things from them?
“Hey, Ella. You okay?” Carmen asks as I stop walking.
“Yeah…I’m…just a little out of breath.”
“Girl, me too,” Jess says, passing me. “These views better be worth it.”
I take a deep breath and start walking again. It wasn’t the truth, but by the time we’re nearing the top, I’m actually breathing heavily. There’s nothing like a tough hike to remind me I really should have exercised more this year. My body wants to collapse right there on the trail. I step on a branch, making a loud crunch that snaps me out of it.
“We made it!” Carmen cheers as she spots the overlook up ahead. The view is as spectacular as the pictures.
I suck in a deep breath of the pine-scented air, catching up to her to search for my next paper heart. I can’t let her or any of my friends find the paper heart before me. How on earth would I explain that?” But once the trail levels out and I’m about to move toward the ridge, Carmen grabs my hand.
“Selfie!” she says, reaching her arm out as far as it goes to get the view in the background.
“Ugh, never mind,” she says, dropping her iPhone. “We need to get closer.”
“Good idea,” I say, rushing ahead of her.
“Let’s figure out the best angle,” I suggest. My friends nod, and as they start looking through their iPhone lenses for the best view, I pretend to do the same but really, I’m searching the ground for a watercolored heart. I beeline for the patch of grass in front of the view of the castle—but there’s nothing on the ground.
“Oooh, what is that?” Katie asks behind me.
My heart drops. Oh no.
I turn to see her staring right at me. Oh no, I think, but when I look at her hand, she’s not holding a paper heart.
“What?” I ask.
“Behind you,” she says. “Is that a castle?”
“Oh yeah,” I say. “Bannerman Castle. I saw online that it was built on the island in the Revolutionary War or something.”
“So awesome!” Carmen says. “We have to take a picture in front of that.”
Carmen finds a rock in front of me and sets the self-timer on her phone, before the three of them quickly huddle around me and smile before the flash goes off.
Even as we take the photo, I’m scanning the ground. I was sure this was where the next paper heart would be. What am I missing? After the group photo I suggest that everyone takes individual shots while we are here and my friends happily oblige—but really, I just want more time to search for the next message.
What did the last paper heart say? Six or nine? Gah, neither of those numbers make any sense, I think as I’m investigating a nearby tree. Maybe there will be a paper heart hanging from one of the branches?
“You’re up, Ella,” Jess says. I look from the pine needles to her.
“For what?”
“Pictures, duh.”
“Oh…I don’t need one with just me.” I shift and a branch snaps beneath my feet.
“No way!” Carmen says. “You need a new picture so you can start posting again. It’s getting ridiculous how off the grid you are when you look this good.”
“Er…thanks,” I say, reluctantly moving from the tree to the edge. I suddenly fear that the paper heart has blown away. Maybe that’s why I can’t find it.
No. I shake my head. Whoever your admirer is, is making sure these hearts get to you, I think, remembering how the last one was tied securely to a ribbon and how the ones before that were hand delivered to me. It was safe to say that there wasn’t a paper heart here.
I sigh. How did I get the clue so wrong? Am I misremembering what it said? I could have sworn it said to look for a castle from a beautiful view. Where else could that be?
Once I’m standing in front of the castle in the distance, I smile for the photo but on the inside, I feel nothing but disappointment.
* * *
The rest of the week my thoughts shift from wondering what the paper heart means, to anxiously thinking about what my date on Friday with Pete will be like. I hope there will be butterflies to replace the current feeling in my stomach. But I can’t help thinking about what Andy asked me…do I want my admirer to be Pete?
Finally, it’s Friday night. I change into a red shirt that ties at the waist, dark-washed skinny jeans, and black booties. Normally, Ashley and I have completely opposite styles but she has this bomber jacket that has way more of a cool date vibe than any of my peacoats, so I sneak into her room to borrow it.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve hung out with Pete before and everything, but there’s something about going on an actual date with him that feels more mature somehow. It’s ironic how doing adult things sometimes can have a way of making you feel like a complete baby.
But I know deep down I’m anxious for other reasons. I’m expecting that it’ll give me some clarity once and for all if Pete’s my admirer. In my mind, all signs point to Pete. But like Andy pointed out, my heart still doesn’t know what it wants, so I’m also hoping this date changes that.
Pete arrives a few minutes late, which I’m actually grateful for despite how punctual I normally am. I had finished getting ready about a half hour ago out of nerves and am doing last-minute touch-ups to my makeup when the doorbell rings. I bolt out of bed and throw Ashley’s bomber jacket on, suddenly hoping I don’t run into her. I didn’t exactly ask to borrow it.
As I make my way downstairs, my heart stops. Dad is at the bottom of the stairs talking to someone. My first thought is Ashley, but then I see the front door is already open. Pete’s inside.
Oh no.
I had told my dad I was going to the Hudson Valley Orchard but I didn’t exactly tell him it was for a date. Or that it was with Pete. Not because it was going to be an issue. My dad loves Pete. Last year when we started hanging out, he called him a standup guy from a great family. In movies dads are typically seen grilling their daughters’ boyfriends—threatening to kill them if they hurt them. That would never be my dad. He’s way too cool for that.
As I begin walking down the stairs, I hear the two of them laughing about God knows what.
“Hey, Ella,” my dad says when he sees me. “Pete was just telling me there was going to be fried dough at the orchard. I was telling him about your first fried dough experience.”
The time I put so much powder on mine I walked around with a white beard the entire day, with pictures to prove it.
“If you’re going to tell embarrassing stories, at least let me be in the room,” I say, forcing a smile. Suddenly, I wish he were grilling Pete instead.
My dad looks at me and tilts his head a little. I wonder if it’s because I have more makeup on than usual, but he d
oesn’t say anything.
“Oh no, I really enjoyed it,” Pete says, stepping in. “I’m hoping there will be a repeat later.”
“I will not be having a fried dough beard tonight.”
“Okay, but you will be home by eleven,” my dad says, looking from me to Pete.
Pete nods. “Sure thing. It was great seeing you, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
I can’t help but think it’s something a standup guy from a great family would say. Maybe that’s why my dad is smiling so big right now. Or maybe it’s because his loner daughter as of late is actually going out on a Friday night.
“Okay, bye Dad,” I say before he can tell another story. Pete follows me as I scurry out, the door shutting behind us.
“Let me help you down—these stairs are a little icy,” he says before we walk down the steps with my arm looped in his. It feels natural and makes my anxieties disappear.
Maybe going out with a standup guy won’t be a bad thing at all.
* * *
Just when I think a first date couldn’t be any more romantic, it starts to snow as we get to the orchard. Not too heavy that we have to go home or anything. The perfect amount of snow that you can see falling but light enough that you barely feel anything when it touches you. When the first snowflake falls on my cheek, I can’t help but beam. Waiting for snow must be kind of like waiting for love. If it happened all the time, it wouldn’t be as exciting, but when it finally comes, it’s magical.
“What’re you smiling about?” Pete asks, leading me toward the barn. We can hear the music buzzing behind the shut doors.
“It’s snowing!” I say. “I just love when it snows like this.”
“I planned that for you too,” he jokes.
“Perfect snow. Check,” I say, looking at my pretend clipboard. “What’s next on the agenda?”
“Well, after your dad’s story, I know we have to hit up the fried dough station. But let’s save dessert for last. First, we should get hot chocolate and roam the gift vendors. I still have to get something for my mom for Valentine’s Day.”
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