Sparks in Scotland

by A. Destiny

  “—going to miss that lad,” Steaphan was telling my mom, a bittersweet look on his face as he stared up at the bus windows.

  “What do you mean?” she asked him.

  I paused in picking up my suitcases and listened to them, not even trying to hide my nosiness.

  “Didn’t Mollie tell ya?” Steaphan said, sounding surprised. “Graham’s moving to America to start school there in the fall.”

  I froze, unable to hide the small gasp that flew out of my mouth. What had he just said? Was it really true?

  “He’ll be in Ohio, living with her parents,” Graham continued. “Oh, now that I think of it, she was gonna mention it to ya tonight at dinner.” He gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Cat’s outta the bag now, I suppose.”

  Mom clapped a hand over her mouth and shot me a brief wide-eyed look, as if she was surprised I hadn’t mentioned it to her. Of course, she was assuming I knew about it in the first place. “Oh, that’s amazing! But I’m sure it’s going to be an adjustment for everyone. And we’ll be happy to help out however we can. . . .”

  She and Steaphan continued to talk about the upcoming move and his transition to American high school, but I couldn’t hear much past the emotions hurtling through me right now. Shock. Anger. Hurt. My stomach was a tight knot, and my fingers shook as they gripped the strap of my backpack.

  I struggled to draw in steady breaths.

  Wow, talk about being blindsided.

  Not once this whole trip had Graham mentioned to me that he was going to move to America. Which seemed like a big, big thing to refrain from mentioning in a discussion. As I stood there, staring blindly at the sidewalk, all the pieces fell into place. His hot-and-cold nature toward me, his apparent discomfort at the oddest times while we were talking. How he’d stiffened yesterday in St. Andrews Cathedral when Tilda had asked him about visiting America.

  The fact that he’d given me only an e-mail address to reach him, not his home address.

  And certainly not his forthcoming American one.

  Embarrassment made my cheeks flame, and I white-knuckled my bag strap, jaw clenched painfully tight. It was hard to keep a fake smile on my face when my mouth was wobbling at the corners. This whole time I’d thought he and I had a real chance, but we never did. I was the idiot who hadn’t seen it coming.

  Once again.

  My lungs seized, and I suddenly felt like sobbing. Hot tears burned my eyes, despite my efforts to blink them away. For days I’d been fearing our pending separation, whereas he didn’t like me enough to even tell me the truth. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for a guy who cared far less about me than I did him. It was David all over again.

  But worse, actually, because Graham knew my vulnerabilities like David never had. We’d shared things with each other that I’d never told anyone else. But to Graham, I was just a dumb ­American girl, a distraction to kill time during the summer, and the knowledge broke my heart into a thousand pieces.

  “Earth to Ava,” Mom said, waving her hand in front of her face. Her eyes were wide with concern, and she leaned toward me. Steaphan and Dad were talking now near the front of the bus, and Graham was still inside it, so we were alone. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked me. “You look terrible all of a ­sudden.”

  It was hard to make myself speak past a grief-tightened throat. “I’m . . . not feeling well,” I finally said. My head throbbed, so it was the truth. At least partially.

  She frowned and studied me. I wondered if she suspected the news had been a surprise to me, too—and not the good kind.

  I pointed to my head. “Massive headache. Came out of nowhere,” I continued, knowing that would get her to stop studying me so closely. I felt bad using her migraines for my deceptive purposes, but there was no way I could talk to anyone about this right now.

  I just wanted to lie in bed, cry, and figure out how I was going to scrape together my tattered pride.

  Her eyes softened, and she cupped my cheek. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let’s get you inside and lying down, okay? I have some medicine you can take if you want to.”

  We scooped up our bags, and Mom went over to whisper to Dad, then shuffled with me to the front desk. Our check-in was quick, and before I knew it we were in a fresh room, my bed near the windows turned down and inviting me to crawl in.

  I dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes, and slid under the covers, still wearing my jeans and shirt, willing myself to hold it all together until Mom left.

  “Do you need anything?” she whispered as she went into the bathroom. I heard water running, and she came back out with a wet washcloth and a glass of water.

  Her kindness made my heart hurt even more, and for a moment I wanted to just cry in her arms, like I used to when I was little. But I was so mortified at how blind I’d been regarding Graham’s interest that I didn’t want anyone to know the truth—at least, not yet. Just another secret to pack away deep in my head.

  Not to mention we were supposed to have dinner with them tonight. I didn’t want to ruin her last night with her friend.

  “Thanks,” I told her with a watery smile, “but I’ll be okay. Go enjoy lunch with Dad.”

  She rubbed the hair off my brow and kissed my forehead. “Call if you need anything at all. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours.”

  I nodded.

  She shut off the light and left me in blissful, dark silence.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed as I released the tears I’d been fighting back. I cried for how foolish I felt, how I’d let my guard down. But I also cried because frankly, I was going to miss him, even if it was ridiculous of me to do so. I figured Graham had real reasons for not telling me about his move, and while I didn’t know them, I did know I hadn’t imagined all of our connections. That much I could tell from honest retrospection. He’d held my hand on several occasions. Told me I was pretty. Sought me out time after time during our bus trip.

  It was all so confusing and painful to think about. And my poor brain couldn’t make any sense of it.

  After my tears dried, I sniffled, wiped my face with the wet washcloth, and sat up in bed. I sipped water as I got my rampant emotions under control. No matter what was happening between us, I wasn’t going to spend my last day crying in bed. I was in ­Scotland; when would I ever get this opportunity again?

  Grim determination filled me. I checked the time on my phone. Almost eleven thirty a.m. Mom and Dad were probably heading to their lunch reservation right now. Maybe I could text them and tell them I was up and ready to leave the room.

  But first . . . Mom had brought Dad’s computer in here, and it was currently sitting in its bag on the small desk. I fired it up and logged into chat. It was still early back home, but Corinne might be up if I was lucky. I had a sudden urge just to say hi to her.

  AvaBee: You awake? I know it’s early. . . .

  A pause, then a moment later a message popped up.

  FoxyCori: OMG!! So glad to hear from you. MISS YOU. Woke up a few mins ago and happened to hear my messenger chime. Glad I did!

  Fresh tears sprang to my eyes, and in that moment I wanted my best friend’s arms wrapped around me. But Corinne didn’t know the whole story about Graham—I hadn’t even mentioned him to her. So it wouldn’t be fair to dump the whole story on her via chat messenger. Not to mention it would take a long time.

  No, we could talk about it later, when I got home. In fact, I decided in that moment that I would tell her about David, too. Corinne was sensible; she’d help me sort through this muddle to find the truth.

  And I needed to stop hiding the truth from the people who cared about me.

  AvaBee: I miss you too. Sooooo much. We’re heading home tmrw.

  FoxyCori: It’s weird not having you around. Let’s have a sleepover soon, k?

  AvaBee: Absolutely. I need girl time.

  FoxyCo
ri: And you can tell me all about the cute guys you’ve met.

  When in doubt, deflect. My fingers flew across the keys.

  AvaBee: And *you* can tell *me* all about how things are with Matthew. I’m sure I’ve missed some stuff . . . HINT

  FoxyCori: Can you hear me sighing? Lol. Yeah, we have a lot of catching up to do. Have a safe trip home, k? XO

  AvaBee: XO. Will holler when I touch down.

  I closed messenger, then my dad’s computer, and sat there a few minutes. Yeah, I didn’t want to sit in this room by myself anymore. I didn’t want to be filled with self-pity. I was going to hold my head up high and savor this last day here.

  I grabbed my phone and shot Mom a text. Feeling better. Can I join you for lunch? Where are you?

  The phone buzzed a minute later. Great! <3 Here’s the address—it’s on Princes Street, just a few blocks down. Be careful!! Included was a picture of the building front, plus the address.

  I paused, then typed, It’s just you and Dad, right?

  Yup. We’re not dining with Mollie and her fam until tonight. Don’t worry, I’m sure you look fine. ;-)

  She obviously thought I was concerned about Graham seeing me right now, looking like a mess. Well, I kinda was, but not for the reason she thought. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to look unattractive. It was because I needed time to get my game face on and not have my heart right there on my sleeve. Needed to pretend like this revelation hadn’t shaken me so much.

  By the time dinner rolled around later, I was going to be the world’s greatest actress. He’d never know how much this had hurt my feelings. We could leave after this evening, each going our separate ways, and I’d still have my pride.

  I darted into the bathroom and splashed water on my puffy face. I dabbed on a bit of makeup to cover up evidence of crying. Then I smoothed my hair, grabbed my fleece, and left the room. I headed down the hall, trying not to think about Graham and me standing in the rain on the Isle of Iona, or staring at Loch Ness.

  Sitting on the bench in Pitlochry as he opened his heart to me.

  Oh, this was going to be so, so hard tonight.

  As I got outside and turned right, I saw Princes Street ­Gardens across the street from me on the left. My heart jumped to my throat as more memories bombarded me of lying on the grass right there with Graham.

  Who was I kidding? I couldn’t escape him. He permeated every corner of Scotland, invaded everything. Right or wrong, I was going to have to accept that and not let it negatively color my memories of this place.

  Otherwise, I didn’t have a chance in the world of getting over him.

  ChapterSeventeen

  I collapsed onto my bed and stretched out, arms reaching above me to brush the wallpaper. “I’m exhausted,” I declared. My feet throbbed, so I toed off my sneakers and flexed my arches.

  Mom laughed. “And it’s hasn’t even been a full day.” She dropped her shopping bags onto the floor in front of her bed and sat down on the edge, legs dangling. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, though.”

  I paused. “Me too. Thanks.”

  After meeting her and Dad for lunch, the three of us had spent the afternoon enjoying the sights of Edinburgh. Walking and walking and walking, mingled with a bit of shopping. I’d finally found the perfect gift for Corinne—nothing like last-minute. But when I’d seen the silky tartan-patterned scarf wrapped around a mannequin’s neck, I knew it was perfect for her.

  “I need a coffee,” Dad said as he moved away from his computer. “Anyone else want one?”

  Mom looked at her watch. “We’re heading to dinner soon. Like, in twenty minutes or so.”

  He shrugged. “Enough time to enjoy a cup.”

  “I’m good, but thanks,” she said with a hearty chuckle. “Have fun breathing in your caffeine rush.”

  Dad left, and Mom stretched out and rolled onto her side to face me. She propped her head on her hand. “So, Ava. How come you didn’t mention to me before that Graham was moving to Ohio?”

  I stiffened. Crud, I’d hoped the shopping trip had become enough of a distraction to keep me from having to address the question until later, when I’d had enough time to stop feeling so raw. My brain whirred for something to say that could put a spin on the whole situation and deflect the heat away from my feelings.

  Then I gave a soft sigh. Stop that, Ava. You promised you weren’t going to do that anymore.

  That spin-doctoring thing was the same tactic I always used—trying to come up with an angle that didn’t make me look foolish or embarrass myself. But where had that gotten me so far with the people I cared about? Nowhere. They had no idea how I really felt, since I shut them out repeatedly.

  I turned to my side to face her and mimicked her posture. “I didn’t know,” I admitted in a low voice. That sinking weight in my chest came back. “He never told me. I didn’t learn about it until you did.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned. She grew quiet, and her eyes grew sad. “I’m so sorry. That had to be a shock, finding out that way. Why do you think he kept it to himself?”

  “I have no idea. I thought we’d been connecting during this trip, Mom. But I must have misread him.” It was hard, sharing the truth with her, but to her credit, she didn’t push me to keep talking or make me feel bad.

  Instead she got up and sat down beside my head, then drew it into her lap and started stroking my hair. The gesture comforted that aching part of my heart, and I sighed and closed my eyes. Just focused on the feel of being nurtured.

  “I don’t think you misread him, honey,” Mom finally said. Her fingers brushed my brow, tucked a strand behind my ear. “I saw the way he looked at you. There was a reason Graham kept those feelings to himself. Are you going to ask him about it? You might want to think about doing so.”

  My pulse jumped. It was the question I’d been asking myself over and over. Would I confront him, tell him I knew the truth? Or would I sit there tonight at dinner and act like nothing had happened, just wait and see if he’d come to me and tell me about the move?

  “I don’t know what to do. But a small part of me doesn’t want to know why he didn’t bother to tell me.” As cowardly as it sounded, it was true.

  “I understand that. It might help you get some closure, though, if you did ask.”

  Closure. I knew it was important, but I didn’t want closure right then. I wanted to feel like I was worth Graham’s honesty. Worth him taking a risk and dating me when he moved to Ohio. His silence proved I wasn’t.

  No way to avoid the truth staring me right in the face. He didn’t care about me the way I cared about him.

  There was a knock on our door.

  I rose. “Dad probably forgot his key,” I said with a small laugh, then opened it.

  Graham stood there, brow furrowed. His eyes looked dark in the dim hallway light. “Ava,” he said in that rumble that still impacted me, despite my best efforts.

  “Oh. Uh, hello.” My chest rose and fell with the effort to maintain my cool composure. I straightened my spine and made myself look him right in the face. “Why are you here?”

  “I heard ya weren’t feeling well. Everything okay?” The earnestness in his voice confused me, flattered me, yet a twinge of frustration prickled at the back of my mind.

  He cared enough about my headache to check on me, but not about the fact that he’d been keeping something huge secret? What was with this guy? Did he even know how he felt about me, about the possibility of us? What game was he playing here?

  I deserved better than this back-and-forth stuff. No matter how much my heart was leaping at the nearness of him. I swallowed and pushed that emotion down. Then I made myself resurrect a protective wall around my heart. I couldn’t let him hurt me again.

  “Hi, Graham,” Mom said from behind me. She was seated on the bed, waving at him. “Hon, go ahead and talk in the
hall if you want.” Her eyes encouraged me strongly to do so. I knew she wanted me to get him to open up about the move.

  I gave her a nod of thanks and left the door cracked only a fraction so I wouldn’t be locked out. I pressed against the outer edge of the door frame. “I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me,” I told him. “Had a headache earlier.”

  Graham looked strangely vulnerable, his emotions clear in his eyes. Unlike this morning, when I’d been unable to read him at all, I could now see his hesitation, his nervousness. His jaw ticked, and his fingers twitched just slightly at his sides.

  Maybe I could do it. Just blurt out that I knew the truth and see what he said.

  But that wouldn’t satisfy me. I wanted the words to come from him, not because I dragged them out of him. If he couldn’t bother to volunteer the info, I wasn’t going to beg for it. Right or wrong, I had too much pride.

  And I deserved the effort, the chance. It killed me that he didn’t seem to agree, but I’d keep reminding myself of my worth until it soothed away my pain.

  I thrust my chin in the air. Suddenly I wanted to prove to him I could be happy without him. That he didn’t hold my heart in his hands, that I could be strong and independent. Even if I didn’t feel it right now.

  “In fact, the headache’s gone,” I told him, “and I had a great time with my parents this afternoon. We went shopping and walked around Edinburgh. It’s been a great last day for my trip. One of the best I’ve had so far here in Scotland.” So not true. But my mouth and my pride wouldn’t stop with the story. “I’m looking forward to getting home and seeing my friends again.”

  I saw the moment his emotions shut down, and he leaned back against the wall opposite me. The way his brow rose, it was apparent he didn’t believe me. No doubt I’d poured it on too thick and he saw right through my story. “I see. Well, glad to hear the day went so well for ya.”

  My heart twisted with guilt over my blatant lie, and I wanted to dig my way out of this hole. But I couldn’t open my mouth to tell the truth. All I could think was that it was hypocritical of him to be upset with me, given the way he’d lied to me by omission.