When Friday night finally arrived, I was more than ready for a little distraction. The Bean was reopening. Cassie and Dan were meeting me there.
When I walked through the door, the smell of coffee instantly put me in a better mood. A local singer-songwriter sat at a piano on the stage, singing something soft and sweet. The place was packed. I saw Ian behind the coffee bar and saluted him in what I hoped was a strictly platonic way. He waved back. Things had been a little awkward between us since Cassie had sold me out at lunch, and I felt like I needed to go out of my way to make things okay between us.
I searched the dimly lit room. Every table and seating area was occupied. I finally spotted Cassie and Dan on a sofa, nodding their heads in time to the music. Cassie’s vintage leather shoulder bag and gray peacoat were flung across the armchair beside them.
I headed to the bar to grab a latte. Ian was now occupied at the other end, serving two freshman girls, so I waited around and fiddled with the sweetener packets. Suddenly Asher was leaning on the counter next to me, blocking my view of Ian. I jerked back slightly and found myself looking into his eyes.
“See, I figured if I stood between you and your latte, you couldn’t ignore me anymore,” he said cheerfully.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” I said casually, widening my eyes in an innocent “Who, me?” kind of way. “And who said I’m getting a latte? I could be getting anything. An iced tea, for all you know.”
“Skye,” Asher said, grinning. “I’m not an idiot.” He glanced at my hat and puffer jacket. “An iced tea? At least a latte is in the right seasonal ballpark.”
“I never said you were an idiot,” I said quietly.
“Yeah? Then do you honestly expect me to believe that every time I tried to talk to you this week, you legitimately had something pressing to do in the opposite direction?”
I couldn’t exactly argue with that.
We stood there for a moment, looking at each other, at an impasse. I wasn’t sure how it happened—maybe because of the people crowding the counter—but somehow it was like he was almost curled around me. I could feel the heat his body generated being absorbed by mine. I imagined how it might feel to be snuggled up against him on a snowy afternoon. Suddenly I was way too warm, like I’d been at the party Saturday. I could only hope that my eyes weren’t turning silver. He didn’t strike me as someone who would accept my flimsy explanation as easily as Ian had.
“What happened at your old school?” I finally broke the silence, needing the distraction as much as anything. “Cassie said it burned down.”
Asher’s face clouded over. “Something like that.”
“How can it be something like that? Either it is or it isn’t.”
“Skye Parker, when are you going to stop looking at the world in black and white?” Suddenly Asher stopped, like he’d just heard himself say something stupid. His eyes seemed to get darker as we stood there. “It’s complicated.”
“Okay,” I said, confused. “Never mind.”
He scuffed a foot against the recently replaced floor. “Things can change really quickly. You’re not always ready for it.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, propping an elbow on the counter. “Are you a Magic Eight Ball now?”
He looked up from his shoes and gave me a sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” he said. “That was weird. I was just talking about moving here. It’s all just really . . . I don’t know, different, I guess. Lots to figure out.” He picked up a complimentary mint from a small bowl on the counter, studied it as though it held the answer to all life’s dilemmas, then popped it into his mouth.
If I kissed him right now, he’d taste like mint, I thought—and then immediately wished I hadn’t. I watched the shape of his lips move, drawing upward into a small grin. When I looked back up, I realized he’d caught me staring. I looked back down at the sweetener packets.
“It’ll get easier,” I said. “It takes time, but it happens.”
“Haven’t you lived here your whole life?”
Something he apparently didn’t know about me. I found comfort in that.
“Yeah, but change doesn’t always involve moving.”
“Look,” he said. “What are we doing here anyway?”
“Here in the coffee shop or here in the universe?”
“Cute, Skye. Here in the coffee shop. Want to go to a movie? Storm Enemy is still showing. I have a thing for bad disaster movies.”
“What? Now?” I asked, taken off guard both by his suggestion and the fact that he’d tapped into the one movie I’d been dying to see. I was back to wondering how he knew so much about me. It could have just been coincidence, but I’d watched too many police dramas to believe in coincidence. The girl who believed in coincidence almost always ended up dead.
He smiled, the playfulness returning. “Yes, now.”
“I’m . . .” Was he asking me out? On an official date? “Um, I’m actually here to meet my friends,” I said, pointing to the sofa in the back. Why did this feel so awkward? It was the truth, but it felt like I was making up an excuse somehow.
He looked past me. “About that. I don’t really think she’s going to notice if you’re not there.”
I twisted around. Cassie and Dan were still sitting next to each other on the couch, but their head nodding had evolved into a battle of dance moves.
“Here you go, Skye. One latte.”
I spun back around to find that Ian had set a steaming mug in front of me. He was eyeing Asher as though he expected him to steal the silverware—or start another fight. I couldn’t blame him.
“She didn’t even order,” Asher pointed out. “She could have wanted an iced tea.”
“I’ve known her for years. I know what she likes.” I could almost hear Ian adding, “And it’s not you.”
“Thanks, Ian.” I started digging around in my bag for my money.
“On the house,” Ian said at the same time that Asher said, “I’ve got it,” and tossed a ten dollar bill onto the counter.
Ian didn’t move. He just stared at Asher, who held his gaze. Confrontation made me uneasy. This was like something from the nature channel: wolves trying to mark their territory. Finally Ian picked up the crumpled bill and begrudgingly made change.
Well, I’d never asked to be marked.
I picked up my latte. “Thanks. I’ll see you both around.” I glanced at Asher. “Sorry about the movie.”
That broke the spell. Asher opened his mouth as if he was going to say more, but then he closed it again. A look passed across his face. Disappointment? Indifference? I couldn’t tell. “No worries,” he said. “Sure. Another time.”
And then before I could say anything else, he turned quickly and wove his way through the crowd, without so much as a backward glance at me.
“I don’t trust that guy,” Ian said. “You don’t seriously like him, do you?”
I have no idea, I thought. I wasn’t sure what I felt toward Asher. Confusion mostly.
“No,” I said firmly, turning around to face Ian. “He’s new. I was the first person he met at school so he sort of imprinted on me. Like a baby duck.”
I was trying to get him to smile. It didn’t work.
“Look,” I continued, “he doesn’t really know anyone—”
He shot me a pointed look, and I sighed a little. He was right. There were all those sophomore girls at lunch. “I was being friendly. That’s all.”
Why did I feel the need to justify myself?
“Just watch out,” he warned before heading off to see to a customer.
I turned and came up short. Cassie was watching me from her spot on the couch next to Dan.
As I walked over, she dragged her jacket and bag off the chair next to them and onto the floor.
“Is it hot in here?” she asked, fanning herself.
“Kindly shut up,” I replied.
“So is Asher The One? Does that mean I get Devin? You know I like them emotionall
y unavailable.” She rubbed her hands together like an evil villain. “It’s more of a challenge.”
“There’s nothing to choose, Cass. You can have them both. Seriously. I’m not interested. Plus, he’s weirdly mysterious.”
“So he’s hot and enigmatic,” Cassie purred. “So far I’m not seeing the bad in this. I wonder what dark secrets he’s hiding behind those gorgeous eyes.”
“That he’s a serial dater,” Dan offered.
Cassie looked at him. “Seriously, Dan? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“I just don’t understand all the interest in the guy. Girls latch on to him like he’s Velcro.”
“Jealous?” she prodded.
Dan scowled. “No.”
“I like the music tonight,” I said, trying to steer us back to less volatile ground.
“Oh, yeah,” Cassie said. “Stella is awesome. She writes all her own songs.”
The music stopped, and everyone clapped.
“Thanks,” Stella said into the microphone. “I’m going to take fifteen.”
“Oh, good,” Cassie said, hopping to her feet. “I want to talk with her about her music. Get some tips. Come on, Dan. Pretend I’m Velcro.”
Laughing, he got up and took her hand as they weaved through the crowd.
“Watch our stuff, will you?” Cassie asked. “And save our seats. We won’t be long.”
“Sure,” I said, knowing she’d be gone the full fifteen. Once she started talking music with another musician, she lost all track of time.
I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and sipped my latte, trying to expel the stress of the week with each quiet breath. Devin had looked so calm in class the other day, his posture straight, his face so tranquil. I shifted now to reach the same pose, straightening my back and relaxing the muscles in my face. For a minute or two, it seemed to be working. I let my shoulders drop. Maybe I needed to look into yoga. Then the old leather of the couch creaked, and I felt a knee brush against mine as someone sat down next to me. “Sorry,” I said, opening my eyes. “That seat’s—”
I froze at the sight of Devin sitting there. What was I all of a sudden, the Welcome Wagon?
“How’s your couples counseling going?” I asked casually.
“My what?” He looked confused.
“Your fight with Asher?”
His face clouded over. “Oh,” he said. “That.”
“I take it not that well?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” he said, looking away. I took that as a signal that our conversation was over, so I closed my eyes again. I felt mildly snubbed. Cassie could chase him away in order to reclaim her seat. Or flirt with him. Whatever she wanted to do.
“I’m sorry,” he said beside me.
“What?” I opened my eyes, surprised.
“You shouldn’t worry about Asher and me.” He appeared almost apologetic, and something inside me softened a little. “It’s been like this all our lives. Listen,” he said, shifting a little on the couch to face me. “I feel like we haven’t gotten off to the best start. I usually like to kick things off with a fight to break the ice, but I guess this time it didn’t work, huh?”
I stared at him blankly.
“Sorry,” he said with a small smile, “I’m not very good at small talk. I don’t often find myself starting over in a new place, getting to know strangers.” Asher had alluded to the same thing, but I somehow got the feeling it wasn’t as hard for him. I wondered at Devin’s lack of the same kind of brazen confidence. He was so classically attractive, with the hair, skin, and features of a fairy-tale prince. Everything about him was just so . . . perfect. How could he not see that in himself?
“You’re doing okay,” I said, a smile coming easily and naturally. “Maybe you just need to give people a chance to get to know you.”
He lifted his gaze to me. His eyes were really incredible. Soft and hard at the same time, water and ice, and the bluest blue I’d ever seen. They almost didn’t look real.
“I saw Asher talking to you over at the coffee bar,” he said, and I could see the tempest forming in his eyes. There was a slight lilt to his cadence, almost as if he’d worked hard to banish an accent. I couldn’t place where it might have come from. “He’s trying to win you over.”
Even when Asher wasn’t here, the argument was still triangulated. It was like they were programmed to interfere in each other’s lives.
“Is that what he was doing?” I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
“It’s what he always does. Whatever he wants. He doesn’t care at all—” He stopped abruptly and glanced at me. Hesitation flickered across his face.
“About the rules?” I finished for him.
I almost laughed at the shock that passed over his features, as though I’d reached out and slapped him. I sipped calmly on my latte and studied him over the rim of the mug. “I overheard you guys on Saturday,” I said. “Before you knocked me over.”
He furrowed his brow. “What . . . what exactly did you hear?”
I shrugged noncommittally. “Something about your rules. I got the impression he wasn’t too impressed with them. So what are they exactly?”
Devin looked away. “It’s a code that I . . . Look, it’s nothing.” He sighed. “We don’t have to get into it here.”
I laughed. “Well, based upon what I saw—you know, trying to destroy each other in a crowded coffee shop where anyone could have gotten hurt—I’d say your code isn’t working too well.”
“Asher doesn’t understand. Rules exist for a reason. He doesn’t grasp”—he glanced at me—“why they’re important.” With that, he seemed to run out of steam. “It’s our problem to resolve. I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”
“No, really, it’s okay,” I said. “It’s interesting. And hey, I think you mastered the art of small talk.”
A corner of his mouth curled up, and the tranquility returned to his eyes. “Maybe. Not really. I just knew you’d understand. You seem very precise.”
Precise. I did sometimes have control-freak tendencies, but it was an odd thing to say—and an odder way to phrase it.
Devin may have been beautiful, but it was no use denying there was something strange about him.
“Ahem.” Cassie cleared her throat. She and Dan were standing above us, grinning, clearly waiting for an introduction.
“Devin, these are my friends Cassie and Dan.”
“Hey, man,” Dan said, doing that chin-nod thing guys always do.
“Hey, man,” Devin repeated, but the way he said it sounded unnatural, slightly foreign—more formal in its casualness than if he’d simply said hello. He stood up. “I should go.”
“Oh, no,” Cassie said quickly. “Don’t let us kick you out.”
“Thank you, but I really do have to go. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He looked down at me, the half smile once again playing on his lips. “It was nice talking to you, Skye. Thank you for the small-talk lesson.”
“You’re doing great,” I said, again feeling how easy it was to smile at him. With Asher, I’d begun to feel like conversation was a game, a skill, and I couldn’t show my hand. I had to hide my smile, make him work for it. With Devin, things just seemed so easy. “See you at school.”
He strode away, and Cassie plopped down on the cushion he’d occupied. “Definitely a tormented soul there.”
“How do you figure that?” Dan asked.
“You only have to look into his eyes to know.”
Dan snorted. “I didn’t see anything.” He stretched. “I’m going to see if the pool tables are open.”
When Dan was out of earshot, Cassie shifted around to face me squarely. “So both mysterious cousins hitting on you in the same night? Please divulge all, immediately. Spare no boring detail.”
“I don’t know if I would characterize that encounter with Devin as hitting on me.”
She gave me a sly grin. “But the encounter with Asher . . . ?”
&nb
sp; “I’m not sure if he knows how to talk to a female without hitting on her. I mean, even Ms. Manning went all gaga for him that first day.”
“True. But it must be nice to have two guys interested in you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. We just talked.”
“Here you go,” Ian said, suddenly standing next to us.
I looked up, startled, as he removed my empty mug and replaced it with another filled to the brim.
“This one’s on me,” he said. Before I could even thank him, he was heading back to the counter.
“Hmm,” Cassie murmured. “Make that three guys.”
At the moment, I felt like it was three too many.
Chapter 7
Cassie has always been prone to hyperbole, but the weather reports supported her theory that it was the coldest month on record in River Springs.
Even at home, our house felt too big and drafty, the cold seeping in through the cracks at the base of the big plate glass windows overlooking our backyard—the mountains looming up dark and aloof in the distance. The house was built into the side of a hill, so the side that faced out was made up of lots of windows. When you looked out, it felt like you were suspended in the sky, with no ground beneath your feet and the mountains stretching out before you. I used to love that feeling of weightlessness. Now, after the floating dream, I found it unsettling. It didn’t help that I was periodically experiencing waves of nausea mixed with images of Asher’s dark eyes and Devin’s blue ones.
Aunt Jo was home from the backcountry and tried to keep things cozy by baking. I, being kitchen-averse, just stalked around in a hat and scarf and kept turning up the thermostat.
“Cut it out, Skye; it’s not that cold.” She laughed as she scooted a tray of cinnamon spice cookies into the oven.
“But I’m fa-fa-fa-reezing.” I shivered dramatically, huddling up on one of the stools that surrounded the cherrywood and marble kitchen island.
“I think the thermostat can stay at seventy. Put on another sweater.”
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