by Shana Norris
“What are we looking for?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Ashton said. She examined a wire basket for a moment, then tossed it aside. “I’ll know when I see it.”
I looked around at the stuff other people had thrown away. It was garbage; that was the whole point of throwing things out.
“I don’t get it,” I said, still watching Ashton dig through the pile of trash. “How can any of this be used for art?”
“Everything has the potential to be beautiful,” Ashton explained, blowing a lock of orange hair out of her eyes. “You just have to be willing to look beyond what you see on the surface. Look for the possibilities inside it.”
This was so different from everything I’d been taught growing up. In my parents’ eyes, if something had lost its usefulness, then there was no use fixing it. It was trash and it went out the door. Trash was never useful or beautiful.
I dug carefully through the pile of junk with Ashton for the next few minutes, looking for something that she might deem beautiful. I tried to see the things around me through Ashton’s eyes.
“What about this?” I asked, lifting a portion of a broken stained glass window for Ashton’s consideration, the red and blue and green glass glittering as I held it up. I couldn’t tell what it had been, but there was something captivating about it.
Ashton’s face broke into a wide grin, her eyes shining. “That’s it! That’s perfect, Hannah.”
I grinned back at her. Maybe I would never be an artist, but I was starting to understand what she meant by seeing the beauty in the possibilities. “Just promise me you’ll show me the finished piece,” I said as I handed the stained glass over to her. “I want to see what you do with it.”
Ashton nodded. “It’s a deal. You won’t even recognize it later, you’ll see.”
Chapter Eleven
When I woke up the next day, Aunt Lydia was already in her studio and Ashton was at home working on her own art while Kate was stuck covering a shift at Mountain Dairy. After wandering around the house looking for something to do, I finally gave up and headed over to Jude’s house.
“Hey,” he said when I walked across the yard toward him.
“Hey,” I answered. A green and yellow striped shirt danced back and forth in the breeze as it hung from the tree limb. I leaned against the open hood of Jude’s truck, watching as he worked.
“Are you ever going to paint this truck?” I asked. “Or do you love primer gray?”
Jude shrugged. “I haven’t decided what color to paint it yet.”
“How long have you been thinking about it?” I asked.
“A year,” he told me. He didn’t look up from the engine as he bent over it, adjusting some hoses.
“And in that year, you couldn’t decide on a paint color?” I teased.
Jude didn’t answer, and I bit my lip, feeling like I had crossed another line. I wished Jude came with some kind of sign, something with big flashing lights that read, “DANGER! TURN AROUND AND KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!”
“So,” I said, trying to change the subject, “what are you doing today?”
Jude pushed a lock of sweaty hair off his face. “No big plans. You?”
“Just sitting around doing nothing,” I said. “Everyone is busy, it seems.”
“I’m not.” Jude reached up and slammed the hood closed. “We could do something.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Like what?”
He thought for a moment, then said, “There’s this small summer fair the next county over. Not too far away. I saw it advertised on TV yesterday. It might be fun.”
My mom never liked fairs. They were always crowded, and filled with the wrong kind of people. She would never be caught eating fair food in public.
I grinned. “Let’s go.”
#
“You’re going down, Westmore,” I told him, my body tense.
We were sitting next to each other in front of a water gun carnival game, waiting for the carnival worker to give us the signal.
“We’ll see, Cohen,” Jude answered. He looked relaxed as he sat on the little wooden stool and aimed his water gun at the clown ahead.
The buzzer sounded and I squeezed the trigger, sending a spray of water toward my clown. I let out a frustrated shriek as I hit the clown in the eye and not the mouth. I quickly adjusted my aim, bouncing up and down in my seat. With a direct hit, my red duck moved across the board, chasing Jude’s blue one.
A moment later, the fair worker called out, “Winner!” He pointed at Jude.
Jude shot me a smug smile. “Told you. You can’t beat the best, Cohen.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. The fair worker handed Jude a giant stuffed yellow duck, his prize for winning the game.
Jude turned toward me and offered me the duck. “Consolation prize,” he said, his gray eyes glittering.
“I don’t need your pity,” I protested, pretending to scowl at him as I crossed my arms over my white T-shirt.
“Fine,” Jude said, shrugging. “I’ll keep it for myself.”
I reached forward and grabbed the duck. “No way. You offered it to me, so it’s mine now.”
Jude slung one arm around my shoulders, wrapping me in a playful headlock. “You can drive a guy crazy, you know that?”
I laughed, enjoying the feel of being so close to him. I could smell his cologne over the smells of popcorn and roasted peanuts.
“Want some cotton candy?” Jude asked.
“Sure,” I said.
He let his hand drop from my shoulders to my hand. His fingers entwined with mine, and it felt strong and reassuring, like an anchor tying me into the moment.
I couldn’t remember ever being this relaxed and happy. Maybe that was the reason I felt brave enough to say, “Ashton wants us to go to the Fourth of July fireworks with her.”
“Because the last time we got together it was such a great time?” Jude asked, raising one eyebrow.
I laughed. “I know. We both agreed it was a disaster. So she thought that maybe something more casual and less intimate than dinner would be better. We could watch the fireworks and not talk if we don’t want to.”
Jude popped a wad of cotton candy into his mouth, his eyes scanning the crowd as they passed.
“It’ll be a small group,” I said. “Just us and Ashton and Kate and Carter.”
He ran a hand through his hair, which he had let out of his usual ponytail. “Carter doesn’t like me much.”
“I’m sure he likes you just fine,” I said.
Jude shook his head. “Carter and I kind of got into a fight back when his uncle fired me.”
I groaned. “Really?”
“Well, I was kind of a jackass back then. I got into fights with everyone, if that makes you feel better.”
“Somehow, it doesn’t,” I told him dryly. I let a piece of cotton candy melt in my mouth, then asked, “Did you ever apologize or anything?”
Jude shrugged. “No, not really.” He looked into my eyes, his face serious. “I didn’t steal the money from his uncle, you know. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t me.”
He sounded sincere and I wanted to believe him. “It’s in the past anyway, right?” I asked.
“Right,” Jude said. He sighed and flicked a piece of cotton candy off his jeans. “Except that a lot of people think I did do it, and so people aren’t eager to hire me now. Can’t say that I blame them.”
I rolled my eyes toward the bright blue sky overhead. “Are there any other secrets I should know about you?”
Jude tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment. “I don’t like carrots.”
I elbowed him hard in the side. “Funny. I’ll remember that in case I ever decide to make dinner for you.”
“You can make me dinner anytime,” Jude said.
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t cook. Now quit changing the subject. Fireworks: yes or no?”
Jude bit his lip, then he said, “Let’s make a deal. I’ll go to the firewo
rks with everyone if you’ll do something for me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that?”
He grinned as he pointed at something ahead of us. “Ride the Ferris wheel with me.”
I looked up at the Ferris wheel and felt my knees start to tremble. I gulped as I imagined all the worst-case scenarios.
But Jude was looking at me like it was no big deal. I was tired of being the baby who panicked every time she was faced with heights. I had already jumped off a rock into a swimming hole. This had to be at least a little bit safer than that, right?
“Fine, let’s go,” I said, leading the way toward the line for the Ferris wheel.
My stomach churned as we were buckled into a seat ten minutes later, the stuffed duck positioned snugly between us. I gritted my teeth hard, trying not to look as terrified as I felt.
“You okay?” Jude asked.
I nodded. “Fine,” I said, barely moving my lips.
The seat rocked slightly as the Ferris wheel came to life and we soared toward the sky. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that all of the bolts were in place where they should be. I felt the Ferris wheel move up and then we moved back down toward the ground. I let out a breath of relief, but it didn’t last long. A few seconds later, we were on our way back up again, the machine groaning and squealing as it moved. The wind whipped my hair around my face and the sounds of the rides and the people faded as we flew into the air.
The Ferris wheel ground to a halt and our seat swung back and forth. I gulped back a panicked shriek, silently begging to just get my feet back safely on the ground.
I felt Jude put his hand over mine on the bar that held us in. “It’s okay, Hannah,” he said into my ear. “Open your eyes and look around. You’re missing a great view.”
I sucked in a deep breath and slowly pried my eyes open. We hadn’t made it to the top yet, but I could see the fair stretched out on the ground around us, surrounded by trees and sloping hills. The people below us looked small and insignificant, nothing like the packed crowd they actually were.
“There,” Jude said, smiling wide at me. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
I managed a small smile. “Not too bad,” I said.
He kept his hand over mine, squeezing my fingers tightly as the Ferris wheel started moving again. When I shrieked and squeezed my eyes shut, Jude wrapped his arm around me. The stuffed duck was still squished between us, but I barely noticed it as Jude pulled me close to him. My body felt like I had been struck my lightning, full of electricity that sizzled through me. I forced my brain to think about anything other than how high we were and how close Jude was to me.
“When am I going to meet your mom?” I blurted out.
Jude wrinkled his nose. “You want to meet my mom? Now?”
The wind whipped my hair around my head and I reached up to pull a lock out of my mouth. “Sure. Why not?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to meet my mom,” Jude answered without hesitation.
“Shouldn’t I get to decide that for myself?”
He shifted in the seat, turning toward me. “When do I get to meet your mom?”
I looked out at the trees, my stomach flipping around as we soared toward the top of the Ferris wheel again. “Forget it.”
“Are you ashamed of her?”
“Definitely,” I answered. “I’ve only brought one guy home to meet my mom and he didn’t meet her standards.”
“I happen to be great with parents,” Jude said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure.”
“No, seriously. I turn on the charm and moms love me. Like this.” He cleared his throat. “Hello, ma’am. You look lovely today. I can see where your daughter gets her beauty.” He pressed his lips to the back of my hand, his gray eyes locked on mine.
The heat felt even more sweltering all of a sudden. I laughed nervously, breaking eye contact with Jude. “Smooth. But trust me, it wouldn’t be enough for my mother.”
Jude dropped my hand and I immediately felt the absence of his touch. I squeezed the bar in front of me to keep my hands from trembling. The Ferris wheel jerked into motion again, bringing us back toward the bottom. The fair worker lifted the bar, letting us free at last.
We were quiet as we walked back through the fairgrounds toward the parking lot. Jude opened the door for me so I could climb into the truck and then we were on our way back home.
After a few minutes, Jude asked, “So what was wrong with the guy you brought home? Hell’s Angel? Parolee?”
“He just wasn’t Mom-approved. She thinks any boyfriend of mine should be wealthy, successful, and Harvard-bound.”
“And what type of guy do you like?” Jude asked.
I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes. “Why do you want to know?”
He picked at a crack in the vinyl of the steering wheel. “Making conversation. That’s how it works. I say something, you say something, I say something again.” He flicked a piece of the vinyl he had torn off at me. “So? Answer the question.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. What kind of girl do you like?”
“Tall, willowy, blonde, and dumb as a rock.” Jude grinned, winking at me.
I punched his shoulder lightly. “She’d have to be an idiot to go out with you.”
He caught my hand, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Or maybe I prefer a girl who knows what she wants in life, is much smarter than I could ever hope to be, and isn’t afraid to call me out on my shit.”
He didn’t let go of my arm and I didn’t pull away. Something had changed inside the truck, something I had never felt before and couldn’t explain. I didn’t want him to let go, like maybe Jude was the only thing holding me down on earth right then. For the first time, I felt like maybe I could lose myself and it would be okay.
He held my hand throughout the rest of the ride back to his house, where my car was still parked at the curb. He cut the ignition, but neither of us made a movement to get out.
“Hannah,” Jude started, turning toward me. His eyes looked serious and I kept staring at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. My mouth went dry and my breath came in short gasps.
“Yes?” I asked.
It was so quiet, just the two of us in his truck, as if we were separated from the rest of the world.
Somehow, we had grown closer together, Jude’s hand reaching up to touch my jaw with the tips of his fingers, sending an electric chill running across my skin.
I closed my eyes, lifting my face toward his—
A passing car backfired, the sound echoing around us, and we both jumped. Jude let go of my arm and I pulled back.
“I should go,” I said, fumbling for the door latch.
“You don’t have to,” Jude said.
I stumbled out of the truck, slamming the door behind me. “No, it’s okay. Aunt Lydia must be wondering where I am.”
He opened his mouth, looking at me like he wanted to say something. But I turned quickly. I couldn’t let him say it. I couldn’t let this summer become even more complicated than it already was. I wasn’t the kind of girl Jude wanted or thought I was. I didn’t even know exactly who I was anymore.
Chapter Twelve
My phone rang as I looked over the clothes scattered across my bed for the hundredth time, trying to come up with an outfit for the fireworks. Nothing felt right anymore, not with the new Hannah I saw in the mirror.
I should have checked the caller ID before I answered the phone, but I tapped the screen without thinking.
“Hello?”
“Hannah!” Natalie’s voice squealed in my ear so loud that I had to hold the phone away to keep my eardrum from exploding.
“Hi, Natalie,” I said.
“I have awesome news,” Natalie said, sounding extra bubbly. “You know how my parents were having trouble deciding where to go for summer vacation this year?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking over the clothes again. Maybe th
e white eyelet top with the skinny jeans?
“Well, it turns out that my dad has some sort of business trip he has to go on,” Natalie went on. “It’s like a last minute thing. The company wants him to talk to some investors at another branch. You’ll never guess where.”
“Hawaii?” I said, barely listening to the conversation. Maybe I should go with the red T-shirt and denim shorts. Simple, casual, good for an evening out in the park.
“No! Paris! Can you believe it? So my parents have decided that we’ll all go there for our vacation. My dad can do his thing while the rest of us enjoy the trip.”
I felt as if ice water had been poured down the back of my shirt. I gripped the phone in one hand, my fingernails digging into the hard plastic.
“Isn’t this awesome?” Natalie went on, oblivious to the panic that was taking hold of me. “I thought we could get together once I’m there. You can show me all the places you’ve been hanging out and introduce me to those hot French guys.”
This was not happening. Natalie could not be going to Paris, the place where she thought I was spending my summer. I had planned everything out so perfectly. I had managed to disappear from Willowbrook without anyone suspecting anything. Now it was all crumbling to pieces. I couldn’t tell Natalie where I really was. I couldn’t tell her why I had lied and left Willowbrook the way I did. No one knew yet about my dad, and I wanted to keep that secret for as long as possible.
“I’ve never been to Paris,” Natalie said. “What kind of clothes should I bring? What do you think about my blue lace dress? The one I got last summer? I don’t want to stick out like an American tourist. I’ve been practicing my French so I can blend in—”
“You can’t come to Paris,” I blurted out.
Natalie laughed. “Of course I can. You don’t have a monopoly on Paris, Hannah. My parents are planning everything out now. We’ll be there for a week, but I’m trying to talk my parents into letting me stay longer. I figured I could stay with you and fly back when you do. What hotel are you in?”
“No,” I said firmly as I plopped down on the bed, landing on top of the perfectly ironed red T-shirt. “You can’t come.”