I stuck my tongue out at her. “Love you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, shooing me away. “Love you, too. Say hey to Ian from me.”
I pulled away, watching as she got back into her car and drove off. Something wet stuck to my forehead, and I looked up to find it was already snowing—thick, heavy white flakes. Perfect. After the point I’d made about overreacting, Aunt Jo would kill me if I got stuck in the snow. I pulled my hood up to cover my neck and started walking down the street. The sidewalk outside the Bean was charred and black. Standing in front of the empty wooden frames that had once held windows, I stared at the destruction.
Glass had shattered all over the floor along the walls where the picture frames had fallen. Chairs were overturned; couches were torn and bleeding upholstery. The glass in the pastry display case under the cash register had blown out.
Every single sheet of glass in the entire place had been splintered into tiny shards; a fine, prismatic dust covered everything. The afternoon light glinting off the shattered glass was almost blinding. I shielded my eyes.
“Ian?” I called.
I heard a clatter in the back.
“Who’s there?” he shouted.
“It’s Skye.” The clattering stopped. Silence.
Ian emerged from the back looking completely harassed. His short sandy hair was sticking up as if he hadn’t even brushed it, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Do you see?” he asked, shrugging and dropping his arms to his sides. “Do you see what I have to do? This may be too big a job for even the Sexy Handyman.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “This is unreal.” I didn’t bother with the door—just stepped through where one of the huge storefront windows had been. I forged a path through the debris to the counter. “Are you okay?”
He picked up the broom leaning against the wall behind him and began to sweep the floor with it. “I’m fine. But are you?”
“I’m okay. I’m a little shaken up, but—”
“No,” he pressed. “I mean, are you okay?”
I stared at him. “Ian. I’m fine.”
“So you’re, like . . . feeling . . . normal?”
“Like I just said.” Why was everyone suddenly freaking out on me? “It was just a boiler.”
“Yeah, it was just a boiler,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. What was going on? “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“So what are you talking about? I promised my aunt I’d be home before next Tuesday, so . . .”
“You really don’t know?”
“Ian,” I said, getting annoyed. “Come on. What is it?”
“Okay.” He put down his broom and came around the side of the counter. He had an excited glint in his eye, and his brow was furrowed with intensity. “Your eyes are gray.”
“Yes,” I said. “Is that your big revelation?”
“Come on, just listen. Last night they were silver.”
My heart skipped a beat. He had noticed?
“They can look that way sometimes,” I said casually. “Trick of the light.”
“Skye,” he said, putting both hands on my shoulders. “Silver. Metallic. Like the stuff that’s inside those old thermometers.”
I shivered as he brought up the exact imagery I’d thought of.
“Can you put something over the window?” I said. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, I did. I just don’t think it’s that big a deal. My eyes can look silver in certain light. I don’t know why you’re freaking out about it.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve seen your eyes in all kinds of light. I mean, they’re beautiful.” He paused, his cheeks flushing red. “But that’s not the point.”
“Look, I really appreciate you letting me know.” I didn’t like where this conversation was going. I broke away from his hold and took a few steps backward. “But I’m fine. Do they look silver now?”
Ian’s face fell. “No. . . .”
I shrugged in response.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, looking away. “I guess I sound crazy. It was probably just glass flying or something. It was some insane chaos in here. Forget I said anything, okay?” But his eyes still held that same intensity. I backed away. I had to get out of here.
“I’d offer to stay and help,” I said, “but I have to go finish up some reading before the semester starts. See you tomorrow.”
“You’re unbelievable. It’s still vacation! You are the only person I know who catches up on reading she’s not even behind on.”
I smiled. “I want to go to Columbia. And that’s how you do it.”
“Whatever works, Skye, whatever works.”
“Good luck with the place.”
“Thanks,” he said, still standing in the same spot, unmoving.
“Later, Ian.”
As I walked outside, I glanced over my shoulder, through the window. He was back to sweeping up the glass. He looked so alone. Guilt nudged at me.
What was I running from, anyway? So my eyes had been wonky last night. And Ian had seen them. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe, like I’d told Ian, it really was just a trick of the light. Just because I always immediately thought the worst, didn’t mean I needed to stop being a friend.
I took out my cell phone and called Cassie. When she answered, I got straight to the point. “I’m at the Bean, planning a little surprise of my own. You and Dan need to get over here.”
“Um,” she said. “Doesn’t the Bean kind of look like an earthquake hit it?”
“Cassie.”
“Sorry.”
“Are you going to make quips all day or are you going to help me?”
“Make quips. . . .”
I coughed loudly into the phone.
“Fine.” She sighed. “I’m coming to help you. It’s not easy being so selfless, you know.”
I snapped my phone closed, and stepped back through the gaping hole where the front window used to be. Glass crunched beneath my boots, and Ian turned to look at me. I smiled. “So, are there any extra brooms around here?”
With Dan and Cassie helping, we had the glass swept up and the broken furniture hauled out to the Dumpster by the time the crew from Wylie’s Windows had arrived.
Cassie broke out a thermos of her special hot chocolate sprinkled with chili powder. Then we sat on the couches and watched as repair people sealed the new plate glass windows into place. Beyond them, the dark clouds were rolling nearer. I guessed karma had kept them at bay until we were done.
“I can’t believe you guys helped me clean up this mess,” Ian said as he surveyed the work. “I was getting paid for it.”
“I mean, we’re really good friends,” said Cassie.
I tipped my mug in his direction. “You probably do owe us. Don’t worry, we’ll collect on it soon.”
“There’s still a lot left to be done,” Dan said as he glanced around at the buckled floor and splintered walls.
“The construction crew will be in tomorrow,” Ian told him.
We sat in silence for several moments simply enjoying watching someone else work. The Bean’s general manager, Burt, had come through earlier with the insurance adjuster to assess the damage and was in his office now making phone calls.
“So what was with those guys last night?” Cassie asked, a glint in her eye. “The two who were fighting.”
Dan shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t even see them until the crowd formed. Were they there the whole time?”
“They were arguing about something,” I said.
Cassie sat up. “You saw them? Did you get a good look? What did they look like?”
I took a sip of the spicy hot chocolate and suddenly wished I hadn’t said anything. I’d sort of wanted to keep my private conversation with Asher outside, well, private. “Yeah, when I came back inside. I sort of heard the beginning of their fight.”
�
��What were they arguing about?” Dan asked. “Had to be pretty serious, the way they were going after each other.”
Everyone looked at me like I was going to spill some huge juicy piece of gossip. “Honestly, guys, I don’t know. Something about rules. Whatever. I didn’t really hear.”
Ian snorted. “How about the Respect Skye’s Birthday rule?”
“That is an important one,” I said, giving his shoulder a nudge. He smiled and turned away, but I could see a blush creeping up the back of his neck.
“But who were they?” Cassie asked. “Anybody know?”
“Why are you, like, so interested?” Dan said, kicking her foot lightly.
“Dan,” Cassie said, addressing him like you would a visitor from another planet. “If they are new in town and they are hot, I’m interested.”
“They’ve never been in here before,” said Ian. “At least not while I was working. They’re probably just tourists. Here for ski season.”
Only I wasn’t so sure. I thought about the guy who’d been leaning against the wall outside. Asher. The sense of déjà vu I’d felt when he’d looked at me. But I couldn’t tell my friends that. I couldn’t even explain the feeling to myself.
I remembered the lone figure standing in the street, watching us as we drove off. Even now the memory gave me chills. I tried to brush it off, but the scene clung to me. Why did I know that it had been Asher? And why had he been watching me? Had he felt the same giddy attraction I’d felt? Or was it something more?
“Just so you know, Skye, we did not invite them,” Cassie said.
“Yeah, but we didn’t close down the Bean, either,” Ian said. “Burt nixed that request, so we couldn’t exactly control who was at the party. Anyone could have come in off the street.”
“Next year, I’ll convince him to close it down,” Cassie promised.
“Next year, no surprise party,” I insisted. “Please? For my senior year, you have to grant me that one wish.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Skye.” Cassie put her hand in front of her face and shook her head at Dan and Ian as though I couldn’t see. Another surprise party was inevitable.
“Well, since you’re ignoring all my requests anyway”—I got to my feet—“I promised Aunt Jo I’d be home before the storm hit, and it’s been way longer than an hour.”
Ian stood up. “Thanks again. You saved my life today.” He awkwardly pulled my hood down over my face before shoving his hands into his pockets and saying he needed to go talk to the manager. He walked off.
“He’s so cute,” Cassie said. “I don’t know why you don’t just go out with him already.”
“You think all guys are cute,” Dan muttered.
“No, I don’t, Daniel. I think some are hot.”
I left them to their squabbling and headed out to my car. I didn’t know why I had a sense that someone was watching me. I glanced around. People were trudging up and down the street, wandering in and out of the shops. But I was looking for someone in particular. Asher.
Only I didn’t see him. Instead, I was climbing into my car when something else caught the corner of my eye. I jerked my head around, but it was gone. I could have sworn I’d seen a shock of blond hair, blue eyes.
I turned the key in the ignition, promising myself I would officially banish all thoughts of the two guys from last night the second the car roared to life. They were probably just what Ian had said they were: tourists. I’d never see them again.
On the drive home, I kept the windows open. I hoped the freezing air would make everything vanish into the white sky.
Chapter 4
The next morning, I woke up floating.
My eyes were closed, even though it didn’t feel like I was asleep anymore. It was hard to tell. I must have been in that weird state between dreaming and waking, where dreams could be memories and the real world could be a dream.
It felt like my body was suspended above the mattress, though how far above it I couldn’t tell. And suddenly, I didn’t want to open my eyes at all. I stiffened in panic.
I was floating?
I counted backward, still unsure if the counting was happening in my head or if I was saying the words out loud.
Three. Two. One.
I opened my eyes.
But I wasn’t floating at all. The sensation of being in midair had vanished, and I lay in bed, the comforter tangled tightly around my body as if I’d been tossing and turning the whole night. It was morning. The only thing that floated in the air was the occasional dust particle caught by the weak winter sun. The window was open, and the cold air blew my curtains back to let in the gray light of the early day. Was the clasp broken?
The alarm on my nightstand buzzed loudly, and I fumbled to snooze it. When I saw what time it was, I froze. Seven thirty. School started in forty minutes. I was late. I was never late. How many times had I hit Snooze?
I forgot everything as I scrambled to pull myself together. I burned through my morning routine, pulling on a pair of dark jeans, a couple of long tanks, a chunky cardigan, and a long necklace or two. In the bathroom, I washed my face and rubbed in some tinted moisturizer, brushing my teeth as I frantically scrambled to apply two coats of mascara with my left hand. I swept my hair back into a loose knot, stepped into my boots, grabbed my backpack, and pounded down the stairs.
By the time I blew through the kitchen, Aunt Jo was already sitting at the table, a mug of coffee in her hands. “I’m leaving on a mountaineering trip to the Collegiates this morning,” she said offhandedly, narrowing her eyes to study me. I really wished I didn’t look so harried. It ruined the image I wanted to project: that I was fully capable of taking care of myself.
“I’ll be back late Saturday,” she continued. “I’ll have my cell, but if you can’t get in touch, call the office. They can connect with satellite.”
“I know the routine.” It was always the same whenever she took a group out. I poured coffee and about half a box of sugar into a travel mug. The Collegiate Peaks were a spectacular section of the Rocky Mountains. Looking at her small, wiry frame, you’d never picture her trudging up the side of a mountain underneath a forty-pound backpack, but she was deceptively strong. And, as she liked to remind me when the question of breaking curfew came up, a pro with an ice pick.
“I’m trusting you to behave while I’m gone,” she said.
“I’m trusting you to come back and bake me some cookies.”
She laughed. I knew she felt guilty about leaving me alone so much, so I always tried to make it seem like it was no big deal. But the truth was I really missed her when she was away. But then she’d probably miss me when I went off to college, and I didn’t want her making me feel guilty then. So I was paying forward.
I grabbed a cereal bar from a box in the cabinet and kissed her on the top of her head. “See you soon,” I said. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she replied, smiling after me. “Don’t forget. Call the office if you need anything!”
And then I was in my car and flying to school. The snow hadn’t stuck very much, aside from forming some weak piles along the side of the road, and the roads themselves were already clear. The trees were a green-and-brown blur on both sides of me. I had a perfect, tardy-free record—there was no way was I going to start off the semester being late for homeroom.
Just as I pulled in to the parking lot, my cell phone rang in my backpack. I pulled it out while maneuvering the wheel with one hand. Cassie’s number blinked up at me.
“Lady,” she said breathlessly into my ear. Cass always said everything breathlessly, as if she couldn’t wait to tell you. “Are you ready for second semester?”
“I’m ready for my coffee.”
“What? I don’t think I quite heard that.”
“I said,” I repeated, louder this time, “let me drink my coffee in peace, woman.”
“You’re no fun. See you in homeroom; this gossip isn’t going to spill itself.”
Cassie’s
favorite thing in life was gossip. And it was almost always about guys, which was Cassie’s favorite subject.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 8:01. Nine minutes to make it to homeroom before I was officially late.
On my way up the front steps of the school, I stopped. I felt a prickling sensation that caused the fine hairs to rise on the nape of my neck.
I knew no one was behind me—I had been alone in the parking lot when I got out of my car—but I turned around anyway.
“Morning, Skye.” It was Asher, looking up at me from the bottom step. His short black hair ruffled faintly in the breeze.
He looked guarded, one leg on a lower step, the other tensed on the step just above it. But beneath his serious exterior, it looked like he was trying hard not to smile.
“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “I’m sorry for fighting at your party. I didn’t mean for you to see what you did, and . . . hear what you did. It wasn’t because of you, Skye. Devin and I have a long-standing history. . . .” He paused. “I was really glad we got to meet outside. What did you end up wishing for?”
“I—” I’d forgotten to make a wish after all. But what he was saying made no sense. Why would I think the fight had anything to do with me? I didn’t even know these guys. I wondered if maybe he was just nervous about seeing me again. I knew I was.
“Oh,” he said. “I forgot my opener. Sorry. I’m Asher.” But I already knew that.
He held out a hand. I eyed him suspiciously. Slowly I reached my hand out as well. He met me halfway. When our hands touched, a tiny wave of goose bumps trailed up my arm. I quickly pulled away.
“See?” Asher smiled. “Not so bad, right? Anyway, look, aren’t you going to be late for homeroom? Want me to walk you?”
“Inside?” I said. “But I . . . There’s a pretty strict security policy. . . .”
“Well, it’s good to know my new school has at least one leg up on my old one,” Asher said casually as he gestured for me to go ahead.
“Your new school?”
“Yep. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to start any more fights.”
A Beautiful Dark Page 3