Sparks in Scotland

by A. Destiny

  “What are you two going on about?” Graham said from beside me.

  I turned and thrust the bag toward him. “Would you and Kylie like a cookie? Uh, a biscuit? Jamison bought them for me. They’re so good.”

  A look passed between the two guys. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Graham was a touch jealous. His lips were a bit thin, his smile a little too wide to seem genuine. “I’ve had ’em before,” he said.

  Kylie had no qualms and snagged a cookie from the bag. “Thanks!”

  Musicians began to arrive: a guy lugging a bagpipe wearing a kilt, a drummer, and a woman standing with them. She started some vocal exercises, and they warmed up their instruments.

  Jamison, Kylie, and I finished the cookies, and I got up and tossed the bag away in a nearby garbage can. When I returned to our tree, I noticed the two guys’ heads tucked together as they talked in quiet whispers. I slowed my pace during my approach; they pulled apart when they saw me, and Jamison wore a face-­splitting smirk. Graham wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  My stomach clenched. What had happened? I’d obviously missed something. Too bad I wasn’t good friends with Kylie, or else I’d ask her what they’d talked about while I was gone. But I didn’t want to rock the boat and bring up my curiosity over ­Graham. Not when we were starting to get along so well.

  I plopped down between them and tried to pretend like I didn’t care what was happening. It was obvious they’d been talking about me, but neither was going to act like it. Okay then. I stretched my legs out in front of me and smiled, watching the dancers warm up, the singer do her mouth exercises. I was totally not going to pay any attention to how close Graham was, or why he didn’t seem to want to look at me now.

  It didn’t matter in the least.

  The embarrassed sting in my heart told me otherwise.

  The dancers started, and people clapped as they stomped and kicked and whirled. After a while, I found myself getting caught up in the beauty of their movements. The music was simple but heartfelt, and the girls were pouring their emotions and energy into their dance. I wanted to learn how to do it—maybe when I got home I could find a place giving lessons.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Graham whispered right in my ear.

  The caress of his breath on my skin made me shiver, but I kept my composure and didn’t give my reaction away. “Very.” It was evident how hard they practiced; they were perfectly in sync with one another as they whirled around and changed positions.

  I grabbed my camera from my bag and snapped a few action shots. With the setting sun glinting in the dancers’ hair, making their skin glow, the pictures came out better than I’d hoped they would.

  As the crowd clapped to the rhythm, we joined in, and soon the whole area surrounding the dancers was filled with clapping and cheering. I whistled loudly.

  All too soon they stopped, and the park roared with applause and cheers. The dancers were flushed and sweating, their hair plastered to their brows, but the lightness in their eyes and their wide smiles showed their pleasure. I took a few more shots and then some of the crowd.

  Graham grabbed his phone and checked the time. “My da will pick us up in a half hour.” His voice sounded a little flat, and as I put my camera away, I struggled to find the right words to ask him what was going on. I didn’t want to pry, but it was obvious he wasn’t his usual self.

  Kylie bounded out of her seat and ran over to talk to the dancers, and Jamison took off with her. I saw him smooth a hand over his dark hair and straighten his posture, and I bit back a chuckle. The guy was a total flirt.

  “You okay?” I finally asked Graham. “You seem a bit . . . off. Or maybe it’s just me. After all, it’s not like I know you that well or anything, and I could be wrong.” Oh God, someone make me stop blabbing on. I bit my lower lip and looked away.

  He sighed. “It’s not just you. Sorry. Lot on my mind this ­evenin’.”

  “Anything I can help with?” I turned to face him.

  He stared at me for a long moment, and that crackle of tension lit between us. “Not really, but I appreciate ya askin’. Quite kind of ya.” The smile he gave me this time was genuine, and he leaned a bit closer to me. “Have a good time today?”

  “A great time,” I gushed. “It’s been awesome. Actually, everything has been fun so far. Edinburgh, Stirling, Glasgow . . . I can’t wait for what’s next.” And yet, the next phase of our vacation, starting tomorrow, took me away from Graham for the remainder of my trip. My throat tightened with unexpected emotion.

  Graham’s brow knitted as he studied my face. “Hmm, ya don’t seem so thrilled, though.”

  How honest should I be right now? Should I tell him the truth—that I couldn’t get him off my mind? He’d probably think I was insane. After all, I was a vacationing tourist. He was a gorgeous local boy. There wasn’t anywhere we could go from here.

  And yet . . . I wanted it to, because he made me feel a way I’d never felt before. This wasn’t just a shallow crush. Graham had depths I wanted to explore, and he made me think, made me laugh. Maybe he’d write to me when I got home, and we could start from there. Even just as friends. Relationships started with friendship all the time. And with the Internet, the world was smaller than ever.

  I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and admitted, “I am thrilled for the most part. But I’ve had a lot of fun with you, and we’re leaving on our bus tour tomorrow. So . . .” My face burned hot, and it was hard to keep looking into those intense eyes. I cleared my throat. “Um, I don’t know, I was hoping maybe we could keep talking somehow, because I’ve really enjoyed our conversations.”

  The tension in his body relaxed in an instant, and the smile he shot me was so charming the air locked in my lungs. Graham gave a soft, warm laugh, and that dimple popped out again. His teeth flashed in the setting sun. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Ava.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Okay . . . ?”

  “My da’s running yer bus tour,” he explained, and his grin grew wider. “I’ll be accompanyin’ ya through the Highlands, ya see.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, and a warm flush settled over my skin.

  “We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” His eyes danced in amusement. “I hope that’s okay.”

  Okay? It was more than okay. It was the best thing I could have hoped for. On the inside, I was jumping up and down. But I kept my cool for the most part, even though I couldn’t fight the grin on my face. “It’ll be fun.”

  Another week with Graham? It felt like a birthday present. The chance to delve into Scotland’s most epic locales with the guy I was crushing on. Not to mention the look in his eyes, the way he was leaning toward me, giving me heavy hints this crush wasn’t one-sided. It was real, and with more time to develop, who knew what could happen?

  Kylie and Jamison returned, and our group conversation went back to its normal light filler as we walked to our pickup spot. But there was a buoyancy in my chest now, and I knew I was grinning like an idiot. Luckily, no one commented on it.

  “Okay, everyone,” I proclaimed a few minutes before Steaphan was supposed to get us. “The three of you gather together so I can get another couple of shots.”

  With my phone, I took a full-body pic, then zoomed in on all their faces and snapped another shot. After that, I got the siblings’ contact information and saved it so we could keep in touch.

  Steaphan arrived and waved at us.

  Kylie and I hugged. “Thanks for touring around with me,” I told her.

  “It was a blast,” she said, and her smile was genuine. She opened the side door and hopped in.

  Jamison leaned in to give me a hug. “He likes ya,” he whispered in my ear.

  I stiffened in shock; my heart thudded painfully in my chest. It was one thing to feel it—quite another to hear someone else say it. Could this be what they were disc
ussing earlier?

  “Just thought ya should know. Don’t tell him I told. He’d kill me.” He pulled away from our embrace and winked, then sauntered off into the back row.

  Graham, unaware of what had just passed between me and Jamison, hopped inside, and I followed him. The whole ride back to Edinburgh, we bounced along the way, our knees and thighs brushing. And all I could hear was Jamison’s voice, telling me ­Graham liked me.

  He liked me.

  ChapterEight

  I had to admit, I was kind of sad to pack up my belongings and leave this hotel room. It had been my Edinburgh home for the last few days. But we were on to the next portion of our trip—our weeklong travel through the Highlands. I could hardly wait.

  I folded my clothes and tucked them back into my two suitcases. When that was done, I put my camera bag and sketching materials in my backpack, so I could have them handy for our photo-op stops. Then I sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Mom and Dad finished gathering their stuff. Steaphan had told Dad he’d pick us up in half an hour. Naturally, my stomach had been one big knot of excitement since I’d gotten up this morning.

  “I’m going to miss Edinburgh,” Mom said with a sigh as she walked over and peered out the hotel window. “I can’t believe how this place has grown on me, even in a short period of time.”

  “I was just thinking that too,” I said.

  “Still, I’m sure sightseeing in the Highlands will be unbelievable,” Mom said as she turned around and leaned back against the windowpane. Her brow quirked. “Not to mention the ‘local attractions.’ ”

  I squinted at her. Subtlety wasn’t one of her stronger traits. “Very funny.” She was right, though. It had taken me forever to fall asleep last night, since I was eager to spend more time with Graham. This thing between us was a heady rush I didn’t want to shake off. Plus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jamison’s words to me.

  A bus tour with him through one of the most romantic places ever would be a memory of a lifetime.

  Dad went to unplug his computer, and I jumped up. “Wait!” I said as I plopped into the desk chair. “Can I please send Corinne a message?”

  It was only a little after three a.m. back in Cleveland, since they were five hours behind us, so she wouldn’t get it for a while, but I wanted to at least say hi. I hadn’t written to her much after my first day or so around Scotland, and I wasn’t sure what cell phone or Internet reception would be like where we were going. Somehow I didn’t imagine the Highlands were covered with an extensive network of cell phone towers.

  He nodded. “Okay, but make it quick, princess. We need to be in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”

  I gave him a grateful smile, then logged on to the chat ­messenger.

  AvaBee: Hey! I know you’re snoozing right now. Are U having sweet dreams about a certain hunky guy we both know? ;-)

  Before I’d left for Scotland, Corinne had expressed more than a little frustration at her current situation. She’d been chosen by her art teacher to represent her classroom in a prestigious nationwide art competition. Only catch was she had to do a joint project with Matthew, a guy she thought was just a jock. But to paraphrase Shakespeare, Corinne was protesting a bit too much. I could tell that Matthew was really getting under her skin. She’d never been this rattled by someone before.

  My fingers hovered over the computer keys, and a flash of guilt hit my chest. I hadn’t talked to her about Graham yet. I mean, what could I really say? This was just a crazy vacation crush, after all, something she and I would giggle about at our next sleepover as we studied pictures of his face. Even as I thought that, something in my heart throbbed. My past crushes hadn’t been this intense this fast. They didn’t compare.

  Well, I just needed time to figure things out before I talked about it. He and I were still so shy around each other in some ways, and he hadn’t come right out and told me he liked me. That hesitation, and the fear of repeating my past mistakes, kept me from telling Corinne about him.

  Instead I wrote a little bit describing what I’d seen so far in Scotland, and I promised to send her more pictures once I found an Internet connection.

  AvaBee: OK, now I have to go. Dad’s breathing down my neck, lol. XOXO

  I signed off, logged out, and thanked him.

  We gathered our things and left the room. I snapped one last picture of it before Dad closed the door, and we headed to the lobby to wait for Steaphan to pick us up. Mom had said Mollie would be too busy working to come with us on the Highlands tour, so it would be just Steaphan and Graham.

  Apparently, there were two other families joining us, one from Germany and one from Sweden. A small group, so the bus wouldn’t be filled. Hopefully they were nice people.

  Dad walked over to the counter to check us out, then rejoined us a couple of minutes later. “We’re good to go, and I confirmed our room reservation for our last day in Scotland,” he told Mom. He patted his pocket, which had paper sticking out of it.

  Right after that, a short, dark-green bus pulled up in front of the lobby, and Mom clapped in glee. “Yay, he’s here!”

  We grabbed our luggage and stepped outside. My heart thrummed so wildly I was afraid it would beat its way out of my rib cage. The door on the side of the bus opened, and Steaphan shot us a beaming smile.

  “Good mornin’!” he declared as he stepped out and shook Dad’s hand, then Mom’s. “So excited to have ya onboard. Ready for the trip?”

  I nodded, and my gaze drifted toward the bus door when I saw Graham standing there. He hopped out and grabbed our suitcases, while his dad opened the sides of the bus to pop them in.

  When he was done, he turned to me, and the breath caught in my throat. His eyes were rich, sparkling this morning, and his slim-fit black T-shirt flattered his lean figure. “Mornin’, Ava,” he said in a low tone that rumbled across my skin.

  Oh man, the look in his gaze held a promise of fun to come. I swallowed my nervousness down and shot him a wobbly grin. That hesitation I’d seen in his eyes before was totally gone right now.

  “Morning, Graham,” I said, not surprised that my voice conveyed my breathlessness. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed him onto the bus.

  The interior was cozy, with gray fabric covering the plush seats. In the second row were a family of thin, dark blonds—a man, a woman, and a teenage girl with stunning bright green eyes. She nodded as I entered.

  Right behind them was another row of people, two adults with two younger boys who looked around six or so. From ­listening to the way the mom talked to the boys, it sounded like they were the Germans.

  Graham took a seat in the front row, and I made my way to the back, my parents right behind me.

  “We all on?” Steaphan asked as he stepped in and eyed us. “Looks it?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Aye, great!” He beamed. “It’s time to get started on our seven-day trip through the bonny Scottish Highlands. Today we’re headin’ to Oban, where we’ll stay for a coupla days as we take side trips to Glencoe and Iona. As we drive, we’ll stop for a wee break to stretch yer legs and take some photographs. Any questions?”

  No one said anything. The two boys whispered furiously to each other, and both bounced in their seats. I chuckled.

  “Excellent,” Steaphan said. “And off we go!” He plunked himself down in the driver’s seat, closed the doors, and rolled the bus away from the curb.

  For the first half hour of our trip, I watched scenic Edinburgh fade away to the more rugged, rustic grounds of middle Scotland. I couldn’t seem to get enough of the ancient beauty, the craggy green hills that seemed to pierce the low-lying clouds.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Mom said in a hushed tone as she leaned across the aisle toward me.

  I nodded, unable to tear my gaze away. It almost looked unreal, it was so perfect. The sky was a rich, velvety
blue, the grass brilliant green. Small clusters of sheep grazed and nibbled in far-off farmlands.

  Mom and Dad talked in whispers to each other, and I found myself peering around the edge of the seat in front of me. I’d been trying to avoid looking at Graham, but I couldn’t resist seeing what he was doing.

  He was spun around in his seat, legs stretched in the aisle, talking with the lithe blond teen girl. His hands waved in front of him, and his face had that passionate look I’d come to recognize. Probably describing the wonders of Scotland to her. I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

  I dug into my backpack and grabbed my sketchbook. The road we were traveling on was smooth, so I wanted to get a few rough sketches in during our downtime. I captured the lines of the jutting peaks of the distant mountains, a placid lake that reflected the blue sky, the tree-covered hills that rolled and danced along the way. More trees clustered along the bottoms of flattop crags.

  Oh, a castle up ahead!

  I fumbled and grabbed my phone to snap a couple of shots before it passed by. Then I kept the screen open as I started to sketch it. The stone bricks were moss-tinted and the top looked crumbled, with small, high windows. A stone wall ran along one side and wrapped around to the back. Thick clusters of trees spotted the grounds.

  Beautiful. My brain went into the zone as my pencil swept across the paper. I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed before the bus rolled to a stop. Oh, right—we were taking a rest break. I tucked my notebook and pencils into my bag.

  “We’ll stop here for the next half hour,” Steaphan said as he stood and turned to our group. “Take yer time and walk around the grounds. Stretch yer legs. When ya return, we’ll head right to Oban in time for a late lunch.” He opened the doors, and the two families in front of us started to file off the bus.

  I grabbed my backpack, looped it over my shoulder, and hopped off the bus. A stiff breeze whipped around the side of the bus, and I zipped my fleece up to my neck. Still, the sun was warm and shining, and the clouds were scattered and puffy. A fine day.