by Lana Melyan
Amanda always woke up then. And every time she felt such a disappointment. He wasn't running across that whole field for her—he was running because he thought she was somebody else. Who was Eleanor? Amanda had known Craig for three years now, and she was sure he didn’t have a girlfriend.
Mr. Hancock asked a question, and Hanna's hand flew up. She loved history. It was her favorite subject. She was always ready for class. But somehow, her book still looked as new at the end of the year as it had been at the beginning.
“What do you do with it?” Amanda had poked fun once. “Keep it at the right temperature and turn the pages with sterile gloves?”
Hanna said she liked to surf the web and read outside of school to get her information.
Mr. Hancock asked another question, and Hanna's hand shot up again.
“Anybody else?” said Mr. Hancock, slowly moving his eyes from one student to another. But there were no more hands in the air. He sighed.
“Can't wait to read your essays,” he said and pressed his lips together.
He walked to his table, leaned on it, crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Hanna.
“Yes, Ms. Kaylan.”
Hanna pushed her dark-blond curly hair behind her ears. Even from behind her, Amanda could tell she was enjoying the moment. Amanda smiled at Kimberly, who chuckled in response. When Amanda turned her head back, she saw Mr. Hancock moving toward her. The moment Hanna stopped talking he looked at Amanda.
“Do you want to add something, Ms. Shane?”
“No, there’s nothing to add, she was very comprehensive,” said Amanda without hesitation.
“It’s very important to hear your opinion,” he said sarcastically. “Because, as I noticed, you were very interested in the subject and didn't miss a word during the class.” He stared at Amanda, but his small round eyes weren’t angry.
The bell rang.
“Very good, Ms. Kaylan,” said Mr. Hancock.
Hanna put her book in the bag and pulled her vibrating cellphone out of it. Her expression changed as she looked at it, becoming serious.
“What is it?” asked Amanda, distinguishing Craig’s name on the screen.
“It’s nothing,” said Hanna. “Ah, I forgot, I wanted to ask Mr. Hancock . . .” She looked back, but he was already gone.
“Calm down, the class is over,” said Amanda, rolling her eyes.
“Thanks to Mr. Hancock, you noticed,” said Kimberly. “It looked like you were far away from here, flying in your dream bubble.”
“I would be, if Ms. Granger didn’t burst it every minute with her popping hand, attracting everybody's attention to us,” said Amanda.
They headed to the exit.
“What were you dreaming about, anyway?” Hanna asked.
“I wasn't dreaming, I was thinking.”
“Aha! I knew you could do that.”
“Very funny.”
“Thinking about what?” asked Hanna again.
“About what I am going to wear to the party on Saturday,” Amanda said cockily.
“What party?” Hanna and Kimberly asked together.
3
After classes, all three of them jumped into Kimberly's Ford and drove to the lake.
The day was warm and sunny, and the windows in the car were open. Kimberly slipped in a CD, which contained improvisations of the Birthday Song performed by various artists. When the second song began, Amanda said, “Thank you, girls,” pushed eject, and turned on the radio.
They parked the car on the shoulder of the road, took the small bag Kimberly and Hanna had prepared the day before out of the trunk, and headed to the lake.
They walked on a well-trodden path between the trees and came out to the open space on the lakeshore. The place looked welcoming this time of year. The forest on the other side of the water was mirrored in its calm surface. A willow tree on the slope dipped its fresh foliage right into the lake, as if drinking from it. It was quiet, and only the chirping of birds disturbed the silence.
“If you think that this place is too dull for a birthday party, we can still go to a club,” Kimberly said, dropping the bag to the ground.
“It's perfect,” said Amanda, treading the small dock.
“We should take a swim, don't you think?” asked Hanna.
“No,” said Kimberly, kneeling on the grass. “It’s a nice day, but the water is still cold.” She pulled out the marshmallows.
“I'll collect twigs for the fire,” said Hanna.
“I'll come with you,” Amanda said, and after a minute, they disappeared behind the bushes and trees.
When they returned with their hands full of twigs, they saw Kimberly standing in between the trees on the opposite side of the clearing, peering at something.
“Kimberly,” called Amanda.
“Guys? There you are,” she said, walking back. “I thought you were over here.”
“Didn't you see where we went?” Amanda asked.
“I did. But then I heard noises from that side.” Kimberly pointed her thumb behind her shoulder. “I thought you’d come around to scare me.”
“Why didn't we think of that?” Amanda smiled at Hanna.
But Hanna didn't smile back. She was looking in the direction Kimberly had pointed.
“What kind of noises?” she asked, squinting.
“Rustling of the bushes. And I think I heard a whisper.”
“It could be people like us, just walking around,” Amanda said.
“Usually people come here by car.” Hanna threw the twigs on the ground. “And I didn’t see any cars at the shoulder except ours.”
“Are you scared?” Amanda raised one brow. “Sometimes you are so tough, Hanna, but sometimes you’re such a chicken.”
“She’s a tough chicken,” Kimberly chuckled.
“I'll go check.” Hanna frowned as she left.
“Do you want us to come with you?” Amanda called after her.
“No, stay where you are.”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” murmured Amanda.
“She is so weird sometimes,” Kimberly said. She pulled out of the bag the matches and a piece of paper. “Like, remember that night at your house, when she heard some voices in your backyard and said she saw shadows? She ran down there at two o'clock in the morning to check.” Kimberly crumpled the paper and stuffed it under the twigs. “A normal person would just close all doors and windows, draw the curtains, turn off the lights, and peek from the safety of the house.” She lit the paper.
“I don't think she’s afraid of anything—” started Amanda, but Kimberly interrupted her.
“She’s nuts. That’s why she never had a boyfriend.”
“Kimberly, she has a boyfriend, you know that.” said Amanda skewering the marshmallows.
“Yes, but have we ever seen him? We know he’s in Florida and she visits him sometimes, but he never comes here.” Kimberly stared at Amanda with excitement. “Maybe she’s a lesbian?”
“What?” Amanda burst out laughing.
But Kimberly was too fascinated by her theory to let it go. “Maybe HE is a SHE, and Hanna doesn’t want us to know?”
“I am not a lesbian, Kimberly,” came Hanna's voice from behind her.
“Are you sure about that?” Kimberly grinned as she turned to look at her. “’Cause if you’re gay you can tell us. We’re your friends.”
Hanna rolled her eyes.
“I just wanted to make sure we’re safe here.”
“Safe? Of course we’re safe. What can be dangerous here?”
“Do you know how often people disappear in places like this?” Hanna sat down beside the fire.
“Then why did you go out there alone?” Kimberly stared at Hanna, waiting, but Hanna didn't answer.
“What did you see?” Amanda asked. “Did you find anybody?”
“No,” said Hanna, staring at the twigs. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now.”
“Good job, Miss Marple. Now can we relax and have fun?
Wasn't that the plan?” Amanda handed each of them a marshmallow skewer.
“Yep.”
Kimberly retrieved three cans of soda. They each took one and chinked them together.
“So, we are going to a party,” said Hanna.
“Let’s hope it will be fun,” muttered Kimberly, twirling her stick over the fire.
“Why shouldn’t it be fun?” Amanda asked.
“Maybe because we don’t have boyfriends or dates,” said Kimberly flatly. “I broke up with James two months ago, Hanna’s boyfriend is God knows where, while you have the best guy at school but keep him as a friend. I hope you’ll at least dance with him. Then I can promise all my dances to Hanna.” She looked at Hanna with a big marionette smile.
“That will be a dream come true,” said Hanna.
“There will be other guys there,” Amanda said. “Like Alec’s entire football team, and not all of them are taken.”
“And, of course, those who are not are the most attractive and interesting ones,” said Kimberly, throwing another sarcastic smile, this time to Amanda.
“Alec is not taken,” said Amanda. “You like him, and I think he likes you too. Just ask him for a dance and work your charm.”
“He likes me because I’m your friend. When you’re not around, all we have to say to each other is ‘Hi.’”
“You know stuff about him. He plays football, and photography is his hobby. Just start somewhere, and maybe he will take over.”
“Amanda, everybody knows how he feels about you. And you want me, your best friend, to be the one who . . . but if you just want me to distract him. . . .”
“Kimberly, I think you got a little bit distracted yourself,” Hanna chuckled. “Your marshmallow is in the fire.”
4
Amanda stopped the car at Hanna's front yard.
Hanna and Craig moved to Green Hill three years ago. The grand house they lived in belonged to their rich uncle, who took them in after their parents died on a boat trip when a storm struck. It happened many years ago.
Amanda looked at Craig’s Jeep in the garage and turned off the engine.
“I'll come in for a second. I want to thank Craig for the present.”
“Craig,” Hanna called from the doorway, as they entered the house.
“I’m here,” he answered from the kitchen.
Amanda and Hanna walked into the kitchen to see Craig standing with his arms crossed, staring at a big map on the table. A few locks of his dark, soft hair fell over his forehead, touching his frowning eyebrows.
“Hi,” said Amanda.
He looked up, and his blue eyes met hers. Amanda's pulse started knocking into her bracelet.
“Amanda, hi.” Craig’s face brightened.
Amanda approached the table and looked at the map. All she could see were mountains and forests.
“Going somewhere?” She nodded toward it.
Craig smiled.
“This is the state map,” he said. “Just trying to find new places. To hike.”
“Did you find any?” asked Hanna, spotting a few red marks in the forested areas.
“Not sure.” They exchanged a glance. “I’m working on it.”
“I like hiking,” said Amanda. “My dad and I—we used to hike a lot.”
“Hanna likes it, too. When I find a place, we can go together.”
“I’m in,” said Amanda.
Craig folded the map and pushed it aside. “You’re back early,” he said, looking first at Hanna then at Amanda. “I thought you were celebrating.”
“We were.” Amanda nodded. “But it started raining.”
“We were at the lake. Just the three of us,” said Hanna. “We offered her to go someplace where we could have some beer, but she declined.”
“I have a better idea,” said Craig. He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “She will not decline this.”
No, she wouldn't. Amanda was happy that he gave her a reason to spend more time around him, especially now, when he was being so unusually talkative.
Amanda watched them while Craig opened the bottle and Hanna busied herself with putting glasses and strawberries on the table. She was always amazed by how different they looked. Hanna was the absolute opposite of tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed Craig with her dark blond hair, brown eyes and arched chestnut eyebrows. The only similarity was that they were both beautiful. Amanda supposed that they looked like their parents, but she couldn't say for sure. She had never seen any pictures of them; in fact, she never saw any pictures at all. She didn't know what Hanna and Craig looked like when they were small. Their uncle never visited them and Amanda didn’t know how he looked, how old he was, or if they had any other relatives. Hanna never spoke about it and Amanda never asked.
Craig handed a glass of champagne to Amanda. Then he took his own and stepped closer—so close she could feel his breath on her face. Her whole body weakened as she looked at him. The glass of champagne became heavier in her hand. His eyes looked deep into hers, just like in her dream, and any second now she expected him to call her Eleanor.
“To your eighteenth birthday, Amanda,” he said.
Amanda took a deep breath. Craig and Hanna raised their glasses.
“Thank you, guys,” said Amanda and took a big gulp, hoping it would relax her and hide her nervousness. Hanna chortled and took a big sip, too. Amanda glanced at Craig, who was watching them. He only had a taste and put his glass down. Amanda felt disappointed.
“Somebody has to drive you home,” said Craig, and his lips parted in a breathtaking smile. Amanda thought this smile seemed different. Not because of the champagne, which was spreading warmth throughout her body. It was different, because, this time, his eyes were smiling, too.
Craig added more champagne to their glasses.
“Now, tell me, what did you do at the lake? Did you have fun?” He put the bottle down and gestured to the chairs, taking a seat.
“It was interesting,” started Amanda, “and a little bit mysterious.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think somebody was following us,” said Hanna.
Amanda caught the expressive look she exchanged with Craig.
“I don't think it was that dramatic,” said Amanda.
“Why, what happened?” Craig stared at Hanna.
“Amanda and I went to collect twigs. When we came back, Kimberly said that she’d heard rustling and whispers in the bushes. I went to check.” She paused.
“Did you see anybody?” asked Craig.
“Yeah, I saw two men.”
“What?” Amanda put down her glass. “I asked you the same question, and you said that nobody was there.”
“It's your birthday. I didn't want you to worry. They were leaving, anyways.”
Craig stood up, put his hands in his pockets, and slowly walked to the window.
“Is that it?” he asked.
“No. When we were leaving I saw them standing in between the trees behind us, watching.”
This words surprised Amanda even more; she hadn’t seen anybody.
“What did they look like?” asked Craig. The cheer was gone. His voice was cold.
“Young, dark sunglasses, heads covered with hoodies.” Hanna took a sip from her champagne. “And very pale.”
Craig gave Hanna a questioning look. She nodded.
Amanda couldn't understand why Craig was asking all those questions in such a serious tone.
“Craig, what's going on? Do you know those guys?”
“No.” His expression softened. “I just want to be sure that you three are safe.”
They went out to Craig’s Jeep so he could take Amanda home. She felt nervous, as they drove. Never before had she been so close to him one-on-one. Now, when he was right beside her, she wanted so badly to touch his hand and look into his eyes. She glanced at him, and he met her eyes. Then he turned off the radio.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.” He ra
n his fingers through his hair.
“You didn't. Craig, you don't have to worry about Hanna. She’s tough. She can take care of herself.”
“I know. But I want to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“Please, don't go to places like the lake, or the forest. Stay close to people until I find out who those guys are and why they were following you.”
“Okay, we'll be more careful.” She still thought he was overreacting.
“Here we are,” said Craig, stopping the car in front of Amanda's house.
She unfastened her seatbelt and turned to him.
“I actually stopped by because I wanted to thank you for the present.” She put her hand on the bracelet.
“You’re welcome.” He took her wrist and stroked it with his warm finger. “It looks beautiful on your hand.”
His touch made Amanda's heart beat much faster.
“And even if Hanna talked you into it,” she continued, “it's nice to know . . .”
“No, it was my idea.”
She blushed at this unexpected answer. It was dark in the car and she hoped he didn't notice. She looked down, afraid that her eyes would give her away, that he would see in them how happy his words made her.
“Thank you,” she breathed out. “I like it very much.”
“We hoped you would.”
“And thank you for the ride.” She opened the door. “Good night, Craig.”
“Good night.”
Amanda heard him wait until she’d walked into the house and closed the door behind her before driving away.
“Amanda, honey?” Her dad came out from the kitchen.
“Hi, Dad.”
“I see somebody drove you home,” he said, sounding worried.
“Yeah. That was Craig, Hanna's brother.”
“Why? What happened, are you alright?”
“Dad, I’m fine. Everything is fine.” She headed to the living room.
“Then where is the car?” He went after her.