Winter Longing (20 page)
I glanced out toward the booth where Caleb and Jesse were sitting. It had become a second home to the four of us in the past few weeks. “He hasn’t asked.”
“But he might have, if you’d let him.”
I fiddled with a Parmesan container on one of the metal prep counters. “I know. But at the time, the very thought scared me. I didn’t want to have any thought for someone other than Spencer.”
“And now?”
I leaned back against the wall. “Part of me would like to go, but part of me keeps focusing on how the dance is still so tied up with Spencer.”
I might daydream about Jesse, but Spencer still lived in my heart. I still ached for what might have been.
“Well, if the opportunity to go with Jesse arises again, take it,” Lindsay said.
I watched Jesse talk to Caleb, their words inaudible. Would I say yes if he asked? Or was it a moot point, since I’d dodged the opportunity? Should I just ask him?
I tried to think of things other than Jesse and the Snow Ball as I headed to our usual booth. Jesse made it difficult when he smiled at me, the way he always did. He stood and allowed me to slide into the booth next to him.
We immersed ourselves in homework and bread sticks.
“What do you think is going to be on the history midterm?” Caleb asked.
“Lots of dates,” Jesse answered.
“There’s always a lot of emphasis on tribal cultures,” I added.
We tossed out other possibilities until we had a list of topics we thought we should focus on.
After a few minutes, I had the misfortune of looking out the window just as Patrice, Skyler, and a couple other girls walked into view. I’d given up worrying about Patrice and the angry looks she still gave me, ones that had grown darker after the night of Jesse’s birthday party. It simply wasn’t worth the effort. That didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of her sharp stares. She clearly still thought Jesse was her personal property.
Despite her obvious dislike for me, what Jesse had shared about her parents had stuck with me. Each time I caught her staring, I looked for some hint of a girl who was hurting instead of a mean girl looking for the perfect way to get back at me. I didn’t know if she was hiding it deeper than before, or if the situation with Jesse had her leaning more toward the nasty end of the spectrum, but I rarely saw evidence of her gentler side. I sure didn’t see it now as her eyes met mine through the glass.
“Great. She looks happy,” I mumbled.
The others glanced outside, but Patrice and her friends were already coming in the front door. Instead of a viperish look, she’d pasted on a big smile. Trying a new tactic. Obvious much?
Jesse cursed under his breath as they approached our table. He’d shared the details of how Patrice kept calling him, leaving notes in his locker, and how she’d even started rumors that they were getting back together. Because he was a good guy and believed there was some good in her, he’d tried to discourage her without being mean. But his patience was wearing thin.
“Do you all need to order something? ” Lindsay asked Patrice and her friends without getting up.
“No. You all just looked so cozy in here, we decided to come see what was up.” She looked directly at me, even smiled.
I lifted my history book. “An exciting night of homework.” Which should be obvious by the textbooks and notes spread all over the table.
“So what do you think will be on the history midterm?” Patrice asked as she slid into the booth next to Jesse.
I felt his body tense as he pressed up against me. What I tried to ignore was the spark of awareness that went through me when our bodies touched.
“We have no idea,” Lindsay said.
“Not a clue,” I added, feeling a little guilty as I said it.
When Patrice’s cell rang, she glanced at the caller ID and her face fell. “Why does she have to call me a million times a day?” she muttered. She stood and walked away to answer. “Hey, Mom,” she said, in a chipper voice.
Just when I’d thought Jesse had been wrong about Patrice, I saw a hint of frustration that didn’t look like it had anything to do with getting her own way. Were her parents really controlling every aspect of her life?
Were they the ones urging her to get Jesse back? I tried to read more of her expression and body language to see if
she
really wanted Jesse back. But she didn’t reveal much if anything was there to be revealed.
she
really wanted Jesse back. But she didn’t reveal much if anything was there to be revealed.
Jesse shut his book and notebook and leaned toward me. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I needed no more prompting. I might not be worrying about Patrice anymore, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hang out with her, either. I didn’t feel sorry for abandoning Lindsay and Caleb, because I knew as soon as Jesse left, Patrice wouldn’t stick around.
When we reached the beginning of our street, I looked back just to make sure we weren’t being pursued. “Not the most graceful of getaways,” I said.
“No, but it worked.” Jesse swung his arm around my shoulders.
Not so long ago, I would have immediately stepped away. Now, I didn’t. I didn’t even try to convince myself that I just wanted his warmth to shield me from the cold. He didn’t release me until we were almost to my house.
“Did you see the look on her face when her mom called?” I asked.
“No.”
“It reminded me of what you told me before, about her parents pressuring her.” I didn’t want to be spiteful, even if I didn’t like Patrice much.
Jesse stepped in front of me, and though there was no sign that things were about to change between us, my nerves sparked to life anyway.
“You’re a good person, Winter Craig.”
I scrunched my eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”
“Because in your position, most people wouldn’t care why Patrice lashes out at people she sees as threats.”
So he knew all about her actions toward me. Not surprising.
“I’m not saying we’re going to become best pals or anything. I just wondered about it, that’s all.”
Jesse paced a couple of steps to the right. “Thing is, Patrice needs to stand up to her parents, and she doesn’t. She likes being the center of attention. In some ways, she’s like a two-year-old. She sees, she wants, she throws a tantrum if she doesn’t get.”
“And you’re what she wants.”
“Apparently. At least until she had me. Then she started wanting something else.”
I watched the play of emotions on Jesse’s face and braved a question everyone had been asking since his and Patrice’s breakup. “Do you think she slept with someone else?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I can see it being a little rebellion against her parents. Doesn’t really matter now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jesse’s gaze met mine, and the way he looked at me—with a yearning for something real—tugged at my heart. My mouth opened to ask him what I’d not allowed him to ask me that night at his house. But again, something stopped me. Fear, uncertainty, Spencer’s continued presence in my heart—I wasn’t sure. Part of me was angry at myself for not having the strength to leave Spencer’s memory behind, while another part was still desperate to hold on to my loyalty.
How long would this battle continue?
I wondered if Jesse sensed my struggle, because he gave me a half smile and glanced toward the center of town.
“See you tomorrow. I’m going in, just in case Patrice’s posse decides to pick up their game,” he said with a wink.
I climbed my porch steps but hesitated at the door. Instead of going inside, I stood in the shadows and watched Jesse walk to his house. This semidarkness seemed the only place I could admit, even to myself, that beneath the layer of friendship, I was feeling something else for him. A yearning that matched what I’d seen in his eyes.
Should I tell him before it was too late, as had happened with Spencer? Would I ever be fully ready?
I sighed and went inside, wishing I knew the way to answer my own questions.
“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.”
—Ingrid Bergman, Quote-a-Day calendar
CHAPTER 26
Saturday
dawned bright but colder than normal for October. Still, there was no missing the annual fall craft fair at Town Park. It always provided one of the better chances to buy Christmas gifts without having to order them from Anchorage. As usual, the Snow Ball committee was having a bake sale, and Mom had made her famous three-tiered red-velvet cake as a contribution. And even though I still didn’t know if I’d attend the dance, I’d whipped up some pumpkin bars and lemon squares to donate.
dawned bright but colder than normal for October. Still, there was no missing the annual fall craft fair at Town Park. It always provided one of the better chances to buy Christmas gifts without having to order them from Anchorage. As usual, the Snow Ball committee was having a bake sale, and Mom had made her famous three-tiered red-velvet cake as a contribution. And even though I still didn’t know if I’d attend the dance, I’d whipped up some pumpkin bars and lemon squares to donate.
Mom and I carried our sugary offerings to the square. The crowd was already visible as soon as we reached the front of our lot. The craft fair was the one time of the year when you could guarantee seeing people who didn’t poke their heads out any other time. Many of them were crafts-men in addition to being hermits, and this was when they made the bulk of their money. The timing worked out well. They could sell their creations and stock up on provisions for the winter in one trip.
With winter just around the corner, the fair also provided people with the chance to enjoy each other’s company before the weather became too dangerous to travel.
Luck was not with me, however, as we approached the Snow Ball booth. Patrice sat right in the middle of the table, smiling as if she’d already been crowned Snow Ball Queen. Despite what I now knew about her relationship with her parents, she still grated on my last nerve.
“Winter, hey!” she said, startling me so much I nearly dropped my containers of sweets. “Good to see you. Hi, Mrs. Craig.”
“Patrice. We’ve got a few things for you.”
“Great. We can use all the donations we can get. I think this is going to be the best Snow Ball ever.”
A pang tugged at my heart. It would have been the best Snow Ball ever.
Mom smiled as she set down the cake. Even she looked a bit surprised by Patrice’s brightness, made even brighter by her canary-yellow coat and cute knitted hat. Frothy. She looked frothy. Behind the overt friendliness, though, I sensed something darker lurking. Unwilling to stick around to find out if I was right, I turned to follow Mom through the crowd.
“Whore.”
I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Had I heard what I’d just thought I’d heard? Though Patrice smiled and waved, my skin crawled.
By the time I found Lindsay and we’d strolled through several booths, however, I let the suspicions about Patrice go. She was so not going to spoil a good day for me. I’d always loved the fall craft fair—the carvings, the photographs of Alaskan wildlife and scenery, the funnel cakes and fry bread, the jelly beans game always sponsored by Shaggy’s Trading Post. Each year, Shaggy put the jelly beans in a different type of container, so the previous year’s correct number didn’t help anyone.
Lindsay and I met up with Caleb just before we reached Shaggy’s booth. I was already calculating what I’d do with the two-hundred-dollar prize, when the people in front of me moved out of the way to reveal this year’s container.
“Ew,” Lindsay said as she looked at the man’s hiking boot filled to the top with jelly beans.
“It’s a new boot, Linds,” I said. “Besides, they’re not for eating.”
After we’d made our guesses, we headed for the food area that ran from Chow’s down the road to the grocery. On the way, a carving of a moose caught my attention. Dad loved moose, had them all over his office. This might be a great piece to add to his collection.
“I’ll catch up with you guys in a few minutes.”
Caleb and Lindsay nodded and kept walking hand in hand toward the fattening and wonderful fair foods.
As I approached the booth, I caught a group of sophomores watching me. When I met their gazes, they looked away and started whispering. What was that about? Surely not the jersey fiasco? Jesse had explained that away by saying that I actually hadn’t picked out the gift. I shook my head. Whatever.
I examined the large moose carving with its intricate detail, then balked at the price tag. Even if I won the jelly-bean contest, this was still out of my limited price range.
“Hey, Winter.”
I turned to find Monica looking at me with a tight expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
She scanned the area around us and pulled me away from a group of men talking about a recent caribou hunt.
“I thought you should know what’s going around.”
“What do you mean?”
She gave me a pained expression. “I just heard the rumor that you’ve slept with not one but both of Lindsay’s older brothers, and that now you’re going after Jesse.”
My mouth dropped open. “That’s not true! Any of it!” I might be attracted to Jesse, but I wasn’t “after him.”
“I know. I just thought I should tell you before it spread any farther.”
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