by Beth Labonte
“Okay.”
“But anyone else?” I continued. “This money could totally ruin their lives. It could turn them into greedy, superficial spendthrifts, just like my aunt and uncle and—” I stopped myself before saying his name. “Anyway, even if they managed to remain nice, normal people, all the gold-digging relatives would turn their attention on my parents, which isn’t how they deserve to spend their retirement. And what about my sister and my brother-in-law? They have young kids, and they’ve finally opened their dream business. Do you think they want to deal with distant relatives from Oklahoma asking for money for Lasik eye surgery?
“Probably not?”
“No, they don’t. So, what it comes down to is that I’ve been avoiding anything that might make me die. Travel. Thrill rides. I’ve completely cut out romaine lettuce.”
If we’re being completely honest, my fears didn’t start right after I’d won the lottery. It was more like right after Dean had landed in Bangkok and I’d realized how easily money could bring out the worst in people.
“Word around town is that you still use Ludicrous Mode,” said Riley. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“You leave my car out of this,” I said, pointing one finger at him. Okay, sure, maybe going zero to sixty in under three seconds was slightly dangerous. But it was my one exception. I wasn’t a total bore.
“Okay.” He laughed, holding up his hands. “Sorry. Why don’t you just bequeath everything to Pixie? That would solve your problems.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “You’ve just given me a great idea for April Fool’s Day.”
“Seriously, though,” he said, his face turning thoughtful. “You should have more faith in your family, Josie. They raised you, after all. I’m sure they’d figure it all out, just like you did.”
“I don’t know that for sure,” I said, shaking my head. “Money warps people, Riley. Trust me. I should know.”
“And how do you know?” he asked, his dark, intense eyes boring into me. “What happened to you, Moneybags?”
“Just…you know…greedy relatives.” I shrugged. “Don’t you have to get to Town Hall? I think Pixie and I will just stay here.” Pixie had already made herself comfortable on a chair by the fireplace and wouldn’t be moving again until dinnertime.
“Right,” he said, his expression lightening up a bit. “Town Hall. I’d better get going. Thanks again for the coffee.”
“Any time,” I said. “See ya, Riley.”
The door closed behind him, and I watched him walk past the window, imagining—for a moment—what would happen if I chased after him. If I stopped him, spun him around, kissed him right out there on the sidewalk. Would he push me away? Would he pull me closer? My whole body tensed at the possibilities. He was suddenly being so friendly, but at the same time, he was still so hard to read. Just stop it, Josie. I blew out a breath and turned away from the window.
It didn’t matter. Riley and I could be friends, and that was it. That had been my intention at the beginning of the summer, and it wasn’t his fault that I now had the world’s biggest, stupidest crush on him. I just had to keep my feelings under control. Because if I ever let my guard down again—if I ever let myself think that maybe Riley and I could be a thing, and that there was no way he’d ever hurt me—then, BOOM! Just like that, he’d be gone again.
I knew it.
Chapter 10
Every year, before Grayson’s Turkey Farm closed down their ice cream stand for the winter, they gave away everything that was left for free. The only condition was that you had to order a small-sized cup, and you had to wait in line all over again if you wanted seconds. Amy, Kit, and Tom were all leaving for Pennsylvania tomorrow, but luckily, they were still around for today’s big event. I was meeting the three of them, plus Riley, in half an hour at the farm.
Grayson’s Turkey Farm was actually more of a family fun center than a farm. Located on the outskirts of Autumnboro, it had batting cages, bumper boats, a driving range, and a beautifully designed miniature golf course, which was very popular during the summer months. In the fall, they drew a good crowd with their corn maze, pumpkin patch, and hay rides. Everything was closed now, except for the restaurant and the farm store—which were both open year-round—and the ice cream stand. The line for free ice cream extended halfway into the parking lot, even though it was only forty degrees outside. The five of us huddled in a tight pack at the back of the line. Pixie was wearing her warmest coat—a black and red buffalo check number—and was excited enough about the words ice cream that she didn’t seem too bothered by the cold.
“We used to have all our sports banquets here when we were kids,” said Riley. Since it was Saturday, he’d traded in his formal work attire for a black North Face jacket over a hooded sweatshirt, and jeans. Every time we bumped elbows—which seemed to be happening a lot more than it should have —I forced myself to think unsexy thoughts. Cabbage stew. Armpit hair. Diapers. It didn’t seem to be helping.
“You played sports?” I asked, taking a tiny step closer to Tom. Even in his casual clothing, the only sports I could picture Riley playing were on an Xbox. But even that seemed sort of adorable. So him.
“Soccer,” he said. “Third grade.”
“Ah.” Now I was picturing a nine-year-old Riley tromping around a soccer field, which was also adorable. Heaven help me.
“People sure love free stuff,” said Kit, furrowing his brow at the line of people ahead of us. I could see a few teenaged girls in the windows, taking orders as quickly as they could.
“You think there’ll be anything left by the time we get up there?” asked Amy.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” said Tom. “If I don’t get some Muddy Moose soon, I might pass out.”
“Why didn’t you eat?” asked Amy. “I stocked your fridge two days ago! Please don’t tell me it’s gone already.”
“You stocked it with all that hippy dippy organic stuff. I wanted a bologna sandwich.”
“You know where you can get a bologna sandwich?" asked Amy. “The dining room at Winter’s Eve Assisted Living.”
“Very funny.”
“Everybody relax,” I said. “If they run out of ice cream—take it easy, Pix—we’ll go over to Sweet Something in Summerboro. My treat. I’m sure they’d love the business.”
If you think Autumnboro becomes depressing after Halloween, you should see poor Summerboro. I don’t know what the founding fathers were thinking when they named that town, but there’s a very small window for drinking piña coladas by a lake when you’re located in northern New Hampshire.
“Why don’t we just go to Sweet Something right now?” asked Tom. “Instead of standing around here freezing to death?”
“Because this is an Autumnboro tradition!” said Amy. Ever since she’d apologized to the town for ripping them apart in her horror novels, Amy’s been pretty serious about preserving local traditions. “Look, the line’s moving.” We shuffled forward a few steps and then stopped again.
To be honest, as much as I enjoyed the social aspect of free ice cream day, I felt sort of weird taking anything from the Grayson’s for free. That family worked their butts off on this farm, and I could certainly afford to help them out. I opened my wallet to check how much cash I had on me, then I craned my neck to see if they had any tip jars up there. Riley’s eyes were on me as I pulled out five twenties.
“What?”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, nodding toward the cash. “Everyone else is taking as much as they can get, without a second thought.”
“Well I’m not like everybody else,” I said. “I feel weird taking it for free. Especially if there are other people who need it more than me.”
“Nobody needs free ice cream.”
“You know what I mean,” I said. “The funny thing is that if anyone sees me slipping these twenties into the tip jar, they’ll probably talk about how I think I’m better than everybody else.” By anyone, I meant Moose. I’d spotted
him in the other line, a few people up.
Eventually, we made it up to the order window where Tom got his Muddy Moose, I got my cup of coffee Oreo, and Pixie got a “pup cup” of vanilla soft serve. Just as I was about to drop the twenties into the tip jar, Riley stepped up beside me, leaning his elbow on the counter and blocking me from view. I dropped the money in, as good as anonymous.
“Slick,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Any time.”
The five of us took our ice cream to an empty picnic table and sat down. Pixie jumped into my lap as I soon as I’d placed her cup on the table, and started licking away.
“You know what?” said Tom, after we’d all finished our second servings and were well on our way to freezing to death. “I just realized I forgot to take my medication.”
“Oh, no!” said Amy. “What should we do?”
“We’d better get him home,” said Kit. “Straight away.”
“Right,” said Amy. “We’d better go. All of us, except for you, Josie. You, too, Riley. There’s no reason for you two to leave, just because Grandpa goofed up.” Tom shot her a look that I’m pretty sure wasn’t a part of their terribly scripted performance. Was she for real? My cheeks, despite the cold, started to burn.
“That’s okay,” I said, giving her a stern look. “It’s freezing out, and I have laundry to do. And Pixie wants to go home.”
“Or we could stay,” said Riley. I turned to look at him, my stomach flipping over as his dark brown eyes, framed by the hood of his sweatshirt, latched onto mine. “We could play some Pokémon Go.”
We. Riley and me, together. Doing a thing. Why did it always have to sound so nice?
“I can take Pixie for you,” said Tom. “Sharyn’s Closet is on in half an hour. We’ll curl up in front of the TV and take a nap.” At the word nap, Pixie jumped off my lap and ran to Tom, licking his hand. Traitor.
“Okay,” I said, giving Amy a subtle dirty look. “Fine. We’ll stay.”
While a big part of me wanted to wring her neck for this scheme she’d concocted, another part—the part that contained all the hormones I’d been doing a fairly good job of keeping under control until Riley crept back into my life—wanted to give her a hug, and a high-five. And maybe a couple million bucks.
“Where to?” I asked Riley, after everyone had left. We were standing awkwardly in the parking lot as most of the other cars continued to pull out. He looked at the map on his phone.
“It looks like there are a bunch over by the mini golf. We could start there.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the farm was totally deserted. I was pretty sure we weren’t supposed to be traipsing around looking for cartoon characters, but I followed after him anyway. Roy Grayson would probably let me do anything I wanted on his farm, as long as I kept ordering pies every year. Sometimes it struck me just how much power I actually had, if I ever wanted to use it. Or abuse it. I liked to think I was doing a pretty good job of staying grounded. Gandalf could have totally entrusted me with the ring.
I sat down on the low stone wall that surrounded the miniature golf course, while Riley tapped away at his phone. The stone was freezing cold and went right through my jeans. I looked up at the surrounding mountains. Loon was the closest, and if I turned around to the north, I could see the back of Mt. Liberty. To the west was Moosilauke—the tenth highest of New Hampshire’s 4,000-footers. Last fall, Amy had been shocked when she found out I didn’t know the names of all the surrounding mountains, so she’d given me a crash course.
I zipped my coat all the way up to my chin and buried my face inside. It would have been much warmer if the sun were out, but it was hiding behind the building clouds and there was the definite feeling of snow in the air. I looked up, hoping to see those first few flakes wafting down. Nothing yet.
“Find anything good?” I asked, after several more minutes of silence. All the warm feelings I’d been having about Riley were starting to freeze over, along with my butt. Sometimes I wanted to throw that phone of his straight into the Pemi.
“Not really,” he said, surprising me by shoving his phone into his pocket and sitting down on the wall beside me. “To be honest, I didn’t actually see too many on the map. I, um, I just wanted to get you alone for a few minutes.”
“Oh?”
My mouth was suddenly dry, as my heart started hammering away in my chest. So, maybe all those warm feelings I’d been having had been warranted after all. Warranted, but still highly unhelpful. What was I even doing? Why hadn’t I just gone home with Pixie to do laundry? Nothing that happened from here on out was going to end well. I mean, it might feel great, but later? Terrible.
“Josie, I just wanted to ask you—”
“Do you want to play?” I interrupted, motioning to the miniature golf course.
“Huh?”
“Mini golf. Do you want to play?”
Please say yes. I needed to do something to keep Riley from making a move that I would have to try, and most definitely fail, to reject.
“I’m pretty sure mini golf is closed for the season,” he said.
“Ah, but you’re not the only one with connections,” I said. I took out my phone and dialed the main number for the turkey farm. Luckily, it was Roy who answered, and a few minutes later we watched as he came out the back of the ice cream stand and walked to the building attached to the mini golf course. After a moment, he came out a side door carrying clubs and balls. Blue and pink.
“I’m sorry I can’t turn on the waterfall or the windmill or anything,” he said, handing us the clubs. “But you two are still welcome to play. If anyone asks why you’re allowed out here and they aren’t, I’ll just tell them who you are. Britney Spears gets to skip the lines at Disney, right?”
“We’ll just try to be inconspicuous,” I said, wincing at the thought of Roy telling everybody that I’d bought my way onto his mini golf course. People wouldn’t even consider the fact that I’d done it by buying charity pies. They never do.
I kept Riley distracted for the first three holes, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. But it was on the way to hole four that Riley stopped in the middle of the concrete path and turned to me.
“Josie, I really need to ask you something.”
I took a deep breath as I looked up at him, framed against the backdrop of a bleak November sky. Riley had never been the type to light up a room, but he certainly had the power to switch something on inside of me. How was I supposed to fight this? Maybe Amy, and my mother, had been right; maybe I should give Riley a chance. Maybe there were some animal attractions that you just couldn’t resist, no matter what. And, if there was anybody that I could trust not to be after my money, at least not right off the bat, it was him.
“Yes?” I took a step closer. He seemed nervous. What was he going to say? That he’d had a crush on me all summer? That he couldn’t live another minute without me?
Thank you, Amy, for making this happen.
“So, there’s this, um, Pokémon Go challenge starting in Japan next year.”
Wait…what? I took a step back. “Okay…”
“People are coming from all over the world to play, Josie. It starts in Tokyo, and then you hop flights all over the world, country to country, chasing down Pokémon! The prizes this year are insane!” His eyes lit up as he spoke, just as I felt mine rapidly starting to dim.
“That sounds…amazing?” I said.
Pokémon? Seriously? Why had he made such a big deal out of telling me this? Maybe he was about to ask me to go with him. Sure, we’d be staring at our phones the entire time, and there was no way I was ever getting on an airplane, but the idea of it was romantic. It was the thought that would count.
“It is amazing, Josie,” he said, taking a step closer to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, which was all sorts of confusing. He gently led me over to the stone wall. We sat down again, and he angled his body toward me, our legs touching. “It’s really amazing, and it’
s a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing. It’s the sort of thing that you want to experience when you’re young.”
“Uh huh,” I said, gazing into his eyes.
“The only problem is…”
“Yes?”
“I can’t afford to go.”
A knot formed in my stomach. “Oh?”
“I could save the money up, if I had more time. It’s just that this thing starts in January.”
I felt lightheaded and sick as understanding sank in.
“You want…money,” I said, practically in a whisper. Duh.
“Just a loan,” he added quickly. “I’ll pay you back, of course. Don’t worry.”
I glared at him, a lump forming in my throat. My whole body suddenly chilled. I’d really done a bang-up job convincing myself that he wasn’t about to ask for money. I’d known better, and yet I’d still gone and let myself hope—for just a moment—that Riley was different. I’d actually thought that maybe I should give him a chance. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“You think I care about you paying it back?” I asked, incredulous. I slid off the wall and took a few steps away.
He raised his eyebrows. “You mean, you’d just give it to me? Like a gift?”
I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut again. Anger at my own stupidity was quickly turning into anger at Riley.
“No! Not like a gift!” I spat back. “Are you out of your mind? All that talk about missing how I used to bring you coffee, and wanting to go on walks with me again. Pretending like we’d had a thing! You were just buttering me up! You were buttering me up like Catrina Corman!” I couldn’t believe this. I was going to kill Amy.
“That’s not true!” he protested. “I mean, yeah, sure, I was trying to be friendlier so it wouldn’t be so out of the blue when I asked you. But that doesn’t mean—”