In the Middle of Nowhere (Willow's Journey #1)

by Julie Ann Knudsen

  I parked the car, right where it was and turned off the engine. This was it. There was no turning back. Michael saw I was there and I had no choice but to go up to the house and meet him.

  I stepped out of the Jeep and thought I would faint. My legs were shaky and I had to hold onto the car door for support. Michael walked off the porch and down the walkway. I was so nervous and had so many butterflies in my stomach; it actually felt like a flock of birds.

  Michael smiled as he walked toward me. I did, too. I was genuinely happy to see him.

  “You found it!”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t too hard. I’m beginning to realize it would almost be impossible to get lost on this tiny island.”

  Michael stood next to me and stared at my face. Finally he spoke. “I guess wishing on a star worked after all.”

  I was confused. “Huh?”

  “I wished it upon a star that you would come here,” Michael beamed, “and you did.”

  It was cold outside and, instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself. “Can we go inside?”

  Michael continued to study my face before he answered. “I just want to gaze upon your beauty under the moonlit sky.”

  Embarrassed, I looked away.

  “Don’t be embarrassed.” He read my mind. “It’s true.”

  I looked into Michael’s eyes. They were still the same expressive eyes as before, both intense and sensitive. He looked the same since the last time I saw him except that his thick, long hair was clipped very short, almost a buzz cut. Because his locks no longer shrouded his face, I could really see his features, with his perfect nose, full lips and cute little dimpled chin. His face wasn’t as pale as it had been. His cheeks had a nice, rosy color to them.

  Michael looked older than the last time I saw him, more mature, actually. If it was even possible, he was more handsome, now, than he had ever been.

  The longer I stared at him, the more anxious I got and he knew it. “C’mon. Let’s go inside.”

  Michael Cooper gently took my hand and led me up his driveway, into his house and, finally, into his life.

  • • •

  Michael’s summerhouse was as impressive as Tessa’s. I couldn’t believe that to some people, these were just part-time homes. I would give anything to live in a place like this, year round. If I did, I was sure I would never leave the premises, just stay home all day long and soak up the beauty of my surroundings.

  Michael led me past the expansive foyer and into a very large family room situated at the back of the house. The house was beautifully decorated, much more elegant than Tessa’s house with its gold-leafed mirrors and gilded framed portraits. A huge painting of hunters on horseback, flanked by crystal sconces, hung from above the ornate stone fireplace mantel.

  Michael walked over to the wall and adjusted something. “I’ll turn up the heat, so you can warm up.”

  “Thanks.”

  Michael came over to me and stood very close. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Nervously, I looked away. “Sure. Whatta ya’ got?”

  Michael walked toward the refrigerator and opened it. I followed. It was completely bare except for a few cans of soda and two jugs of water.

  “Sorry it’s so empty. My mom will stock it again once we come back for the summer.”

  I wondered how Michael was able to meet me at his house, on the island, on a Saturday, but didn’t dare ask. He had gotten mad at me back at Thanksgiving when I told him he needed to let his parents know he was safe. He was a big boy, I figured. It wasn’t up to me to worry whether or not his parents knew where he was. I was one to talk, anyway. I stole my mom’s car and left my brother home alone while my mother was out of town. All of a sudden I regretted meeting him at his house. What had I been thinking?

  Michael must have sensed my hesitancy and walked over to me. He took one of my hands and stared at me.

  “What’s wrong, Willow? Don’t you want to be here?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Yeah, I guess,” I stammered. “It’s just that I left my brother, James, home alone and I’m feeling guilty about it.”

  “Why don’t you call him and make sure he’s alright?”

  “I suppose.”

  I dialed our home number and called James. He picked up. I could tell he was annoyed. “What?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Good. I’ll be home soon.”

  No response.

  “James? Are you there?”

  The little brat had hung up.

  Michael smiled and laughed mischievously. “Good thing you were worried about him.”

  I couldn’t help myself and giggled, too. “What about that drink?”

  • • •

  Michael and I sat in his family room, sipping soda, with the television on, but muted. He sat next to me and began by stating the most important sentence he could have.

  “Go ahead, Willow. Ask me anything you want. Anything. From now on, my life is an open book to you.”

  Wow! He caught me off guard. Of course I had a million questions floating around in my head, but wasn’t able to grab hold of a single one of them.

  “Um …” I studied Michael’s face and the way he looked at me so intensely. Did I really need to know his deep dark secrets? Would it change the way I felt about him after all?

  I looked down, ashamed of the way I had badgered him in the past about not knowing anything about him or his life. And here he was, opening up his soul to me and I couldn’t think of one simple question.

  “I don’t know what to ask.”

  “Well, let me start by telling you why I don’t attend school on a regular basis,” Michael grinned to lighten the mood, “actually, why I don’t attend school at all.

  “Have you ever heard of CF?” he asked.

  I shook my head and faced him.

  “CF stands for Cystic Fibrosis. It’s a disease where a thick, sticky sort of mucus clogs the lungs and digestive system of the people affected with it.”

  Almost reflexively, Michael turned to cough.

  He stared back at me. “And I’m one of those people.”

  I shook my head, confused. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you go to school?”

  “Because most of the time, I’m too sick or too weak to go. I get infections very easily in my lungs, which makes it difficult for me to breathe.

  “It’s better if I’m not around a lot of other people either,” Michael looked away, “who might be contagious.”

  Now I understood why he never was in school and appeared sickly most of the time. But tonight, he looked great, healthier than ever before.

  “Isn’t there any medication you can take for it?”

  “Yes, I take meds, plus I do daily exercises to loosen and expel the mucus from my lungs.”

  “How’d you get it?”

  Michael nervously rubbed his hands together. “I inherited it from my parents. Even though neither of them have the disease, both of them are carriers.”

  Michael became solemn and continued. “That’s why my younger brother is adopted. My parents didn’t want to take the chance and give another child the recessive gene because …” Michael looked down, “… there is no cure.”

  I didn’t know what to say. How should I respond when a boy I like tells me he is very ill with a disease that makes him homebound, a disease that prevents him from being in the presence of other people, a disease for which there is no cure?

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” was all I could muster.

  Michael slapped his thighs and became energized. “So that’s why I’m never in school and so mysterious, or weird, depending how you look at it.”

  Michael quickly smiled and became serious. “Believe me, I wish I could lead a boring life like you guys and go to Portland High everyday.”

  “How do you learn anything, then?”

  “I have tutors come to my house, plus I do most of my schoolwork onl
ine.”

  Michael looked around the big room. “We actually used to live in this house full-time until I got too sick to stay here. We had to buy another house on the mainland so I could be near a special CF care center in Portland.”

  I was speechless.

  “I know. It sucks, but this has been my life for sixteen years and I’m used to it. You just gotta learn to deal with it.” Michael shrugged. “I don’t have a choice.”

  Even though most of my questions had been answered, I was more confused than ever.

  I looked into Michael’s eyes and spoke softly. “Why did you invite me here?”

  “To get to know you. From the moment I first saw you, Willow, I knew there was something special about you. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I just knew, in my heart, that I needed to learn all I could about you.”

  I didn’t know what to say and was, once again, saved by the bell, the bell from my cell phone. I saw that it was my brother, so I answered.

  “Hey, James! What’s up?”

  He sounded frantic. “I think the house is on fire.”

  “What!” I jumped up and screamed. “What do you mean you think it’s on fire!?”

  “I made some popcorn and it burned in the microwave and there’s smoke everywhere.” James started coughing.

  “Are there any flames?”

  “No, just smoke.”

  “Open all the windows and doors and get outta there. Fast! I’ll be right home.”

  “Should I call the fire department?” he asked.

  “Are there any flames at all?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t. Just grab a coat and wait outside for me. As long as there isn’t a fire, you just need to air out the house.”

  “Okay,” James said before hanging up.

  I shook my head and looked at Michael. “Unbelievable!”

  Michael laughed. “The kid really knows how to kill a mood.”

  “I gotta go.”

  “I know,” he said and quickly walked me to the front door.

  We stood on the porch and I looked up into Michael’s eyes, eyes that pierced my soul. I looked away, too afraid that he could read my mind, and realize just how much I wanted to stay. He gently held my chin and forced me to look at him again.

  Michael leaned in close to me and brushed his forehead with mine. I could feel his warm breath on my face. More butterflies in my stomach.

  He whispered, “’Til then.”

  I turned and ran down the cobblestone walkway and drove off into the night, as Michael stood alone on the stoop, under the moonlit sky, watching me and, most likely, wishing upon a star.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX