“I’m already wearing, like, five.”
Aunt Jo exaggerated an eye roll. “You’ll live. Here. Taste.”
I took the wooden spoon from her and bit off a chunk of raw cookie dough. It was delicious, spicy. I missed Aunt Jo’s cooking when she was gone. She’d been too tired last night after getting in, but today the kitchen was filled with the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon.
“It would be better fresh out of the oven,” I pointed out hopefully.
“Well, then you’re just going to have to wait another fifteen minutes.” She turned around and patted down her apron. “Do me a favor and get my Barefoot Contessa off the credenza in the hall, okay? Maybe I’ll make apple turnovers for dessert tomorrow.”
“’Kay,” I said, hopping off the stool and padding down the hall in my wool socks. I slowed as I passed the thermostat on the wall. I didn’t care what Aunt Jo said—even though it said seventy degrees, it seriously felt like negative fifty.
I shivered and reached to adjust the thermostat to eighty. But as my hand neared the digital display, my heart began to race. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Without my touching the controls, the numbers began rolling upward at a scary-fast rate. When the display reached a hundred and one degrees, the small white box sizzled and shorted out. The screen went black.
“Shit!” I whispered. What had I just done? I hadn’t even touched it. I stared at my fingers. I was too afraid to look in the mirror, afraid I’d see that my eyes had morphed again into that weird, mercurial silver.
Had I just caused the thermostat to short-circuit . . . without even touching it? No, it was ridiculous even to think it.
“Skye?” Aunt Jo called. “Everything okay?”
I grabbed the cookbook off the credenza and trotted back into the kitchen.
“Yep!” I said, dropping the book onto the counter and looking away. “I think the thermostat’s broken. We should get that thing looked at.”
“Keeping the house at subtropical temperatures doesn’t mean it’s broken,” she said with a snort. “Can you toss me the egg timer?”
“Sure.” I extracted the neon green egg timer from the drawer in the island and tossed it to her. “Hey, I think it might actually be warmer outside. I’m going to take a walk. Mind if I disappear till the cookies are done?”
“Are you really that cold? Hope you’re not coming down with the flu.” She came toward me with her hand outstretched as if to feel my forehead.
I ducked away, grabbing my heavy coat, mittens, and knit cap. “I’m fine. I won’t be out too long anyway.”
Once I was outside, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and started trudging through the snow. My fingers still stung. I couldn’t explain what had happened with the thermostat. Maybe I’d simply built up a charge of static electricity and when I’d gotten near enough—Pop! Bang!
I should have had the courage to look in the mirror, but even if my eyes were silver, what did it mean? Everything was getting so weird lately. My eyes. The sensation of floating when I woke up. The boiler explosion. The thermostat short-circuiting. Two—no, three—guys showing an interest in me. In my whole life, I’d only ever had one boyfriend. And that had been a disaster.
I wended my way through the trees until I reached my favorite thinking spot. I felt like I was standing at the edge of the world. Below me was a vast expanse of white dotted with evergreens.
I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the sharp scent of pine. I was obviously searching for connections where none existed. The boiler had been defective. The thermostat, old. Devin and Asher were doing that whole cousin-rivalry thing. I doubted that I meant anything to either of them—I was just another thing to fight over. Ian and I had always hung out together so I should expect him to feel protective of me. My eyes—I couldn’t explain them away so easily. It was more than the way light hit them. They were a molten silver color that scared me.
I was sure now that I’d even blown the floating incident out of proportion. It was common for people to dream about flying. It symbolized breaking free from something that was holding you back. I was seventeen now. I was getting ready to apply to colleges. To leave Aunt Jo and River Springs. I was ready to be out on my own. That was all.
I spread my arms out. Felt the wind rushing past from the gorge below. This was a great place for flying kites in the summer because of the updraft. I tilted my head toward the sky, closed my eyes, and did what I’d done since I was six: I imagined myself soaring to wherever my parents were, being reunited with them once again.
Suddenly my foot hit an icy patch on the ledge, and my legs flew out from under me. My eyes flew open. I screamed, felt myself drop . . . and stop.
Standing on solid ground again, my heart thundering, I stared into familiar blue eyes.
Devin’s arms were wrapped tightly around me. I couldn’t feel his warmth through our coats, but for a minute, I imagined I could. It was an icy heat, like the combination I felt whenever I ate a mint. Sharp but sweet. Cool and hot at the same time.
“You shouldn’t stand so close to the edge when it’s so icy.”
His voice was incredibly calm. He could have been commenting on my selection of a coat, not saving my life. Where had he come from? How had he gotten here? And what were the odds that he’d be right where I needed him to be when I needed him to be there?
“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was breathless, not certain any longer if it was my nearly plummeting to my death or his nearness that was making it so hard to draw in air.
“Protecting you. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“No, I mean why are you here? You just happen to be at the same place I am? The girl who believes in coincidence always ends up dead, Devin.”
“What?” His voice faltered. “I was exploring the trails. It was . . . fate.”
“So you’re saying it was your destiny to find me here?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” He released his hold on me and stepped back. “I’ve explored a lot of the trails in this area since moving here, but this one is my favorite. It’s so calm here. So different from the halls at school.” Devin looked up at the gray sky, thick with clouds.
Maybe we were more similar than I’d imagined. “I know what you mean.”
He smiled, and his eyes seemed to change color. From crystal clear shallows to the depths of the ocean.
We looked at each other, neither of us speaking. I was struck again by how easy it was to be with Devin. With Asher, our connection was quick, immediate—a fire flashing through my veins. When I was with Devin, the burn was a slow one. I almost didn’t realize it was happening until I felt the heat reach my cheeks.
“How do you do that?” I asked, swallowing hard.
“Do what?”
“Give the impression that you’re in some sort of zenlike place. My heart is still racing, but you look like nothing happened.”
“Nothing did happen. You’re fine, right?”
Nothing catastrophic, but something was definitely happening.
I walked over to a boulder closer to the trail, brushed off the snow with my mittens, and sat down. Devin stood there hesitantly.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m still a little shaky. Do you mind if we sit for a minute?”
“No.” He wandered over and settled down beside me. The view was breathtaking. As silence eased in between us, I thought of what Cassie had said about Devin being tormented.
“Did you lose someone you cared about in that school fire?”
He seemed to hesitate, then shook his head. “No.”
“You don’t seem as comfortable here as Asher.”
“This place . . . it isn’t home,” he said quietly.
“What was home like?”
He waved his hand out to encompass everything. “Like this. Not the snow and the cold. But the quiet. The beauty. The tranquility.”
“In Denver?”
“When you’re home, everything is easier. It’s a
ll laid out for you.” A corner of his mouth inched upward. “No anger management was necessary.”
I laughed. “So you talked to the counselor?”
“No. It’s pointless. Asher is going to break rules . . . no matter what. Again and again. That’s who he is. And as long as he does . . . it just makes things harder for me.”
“He’s a real rebel,” I said, smiling.
The peacefulness in Devin’s features momentarily slipped away, and I wished I’d never brought up Asher. Finally he said, “Yeah, a real rebel.”
He grew silent again. I could see the tranquility easing back into him. I wondered if he was chanting in his head, I will not let Asher upset me. I will not let Asher upset me.
Of course it was also possible that he was chanting, Asher, die! But I didn’t think so. Even though they’d gotten into the fight, he hadn’t delivered the first blow. He just didn’t strike me as the type who would hurt someone or wish him ill. He was more of a dove. Asher was the hawk.
The wind whistled through the gorge. As we sat there, the clouds were growing heavier, darker, and more twisted.
“I think we’re going to get more snow,” I said, glad that there would be a fresh layer for the ski trip in a few days.
“Why do you come here?” Devin asked suddenly.
I brought my feet up to the boulder and wrapped my arms around my legs. “It makes me feel closer to my parents. They died when I was six.” I paused. It was so easy to talk to him that I felt like I could just keep going, spilling all kinds of secrets without thinking twice. “Do you promise you won’t laugh if I tell you something?”
“Of course,” he said. His lips were serious, but his eyes were encouraging.
“Sometimes I have this insane thought that if I concentrated hard enough I could fly to wherever they are.” I hesitated, wondering if I should have said anything. “Which I know is ridiculous, because all I’d do is fall flat on the ground below, but still. Here I just feel a sense of . . . lightness.”
He was staring at me.
I laughed self-consciously. “But it’s one of the reasons I like to ski. Just that rush of motion, it’s almost like flying. Or what I think flying would feel like.”
Devin looked like he was choosing his words carefully. “No, it makes sense. A lot of sense. Do you ever dream about it? That you’re flying, I mean?”
I smiled. “Yeah, actually. The other morning, I woke up thinking that I actually was. Like I was floating.” I laughed. “It was really unnerving.”
Why was I telling him this? He might not be as funny or confident as Asher, but he was a good listener. And accepting.
“Flying,” Devin said, kicking a pebble across the frosted trail with his foot. “It’s sort of a strange sensation if you think about it. Nothing above you. Nothing below you.”
A gust of wind rushed up, hitting us suddenly, hard.
“It’s definitely going to snow.” I hopped off the boulder. “I’m cold, and I have warm cookies waiting for me. I should get home.”
“I need to head back, too.”
He slid off the boulder and fell into step beside me as we began to make our way back down the trail. I was careful to look out for icy patches this time, and I noticed Devin watching my steps closely. Several times when the slope got too steep and I’d start to lose my footing, he’d grab my arm and steady me. Protecting me again.
When my house came into view, an awkward silence hung between us. I felt so much closer to him now than I had before today, but that didn’t mean I was ready to invite him in for cookies.
“I have to go.” His gaze met mine. “Be careful around Asher. I know he’s charming, but he’s also very dangerous.”
“Because he doesn’t like to follow the rules,” I said lightly.
“Because he can get you killed.”
I opened the front door to the smell of cinnamon cookies wafting from the kitchen.
“Skye!” Aunt Jo called. “Where have you been? They’re getting cold!”
“Sorry!” I hung up my jacket and hat in the hall and ambled in. Aunt Jo was sitting at the table doing a crossword.
“Did the walk warm you up?” she asked.
I thought about Devin’s final words and shivered.
“Not remotely.”
She laughed.
“It’ll teach you a lesson about being thankful for the heat we do have, won’t it?”
“That’s for sure,” I said. “Cookies?”
“On the counter.”
“Milk?”
“In the fridge. Skye, seriously, did you just move here? Where’s your head right now?” Good question. Somewhere in the clouds by the trail where I left it, probably.
I bit into a cookie and chewed it quietly.
“Aunt Jo, have you ever been in love?” I asked.
“Of course. I love you.”
I scowled. “You know what I mean. In love with a guy.” She dated from time to time, but there had never been anyone serious.
Chewing slowly, she stared at the ceiling. I wondered if she’d stored the answer up there so it would be readily available when she needed it.
“I’ve been crazy about some guys,” she finally said, “but the timing of our lives wasn’t right for anything permanent.” She gave me a speculative glance. “Why? Are you feeling something for someone?”
“Mostly confusion.”
“That’s usually how it starts.”
I laughed, licked the crumbs off my fingers, and reached for another cookie. “We have a couple of new guys at school.”
“New is good.”
“I don’t know. Our paths cross at the oddest times, in the strangest places.” I didn’t tell her about running into Devin during my walk. It just felt like a secret I wanted to hold close for the moment. “They’re a little strange. Like they’re competing with each other to get my attention—not because they’re necessarily interested in me but because they don’t want me to be interested in the other guy.” I shook my head. “And now that I’ve said that out loud, it makes no sense.”
“I have no doubt that if they are showing interest, it’s because they find you as amazing as I do.”
“You’re biased.” I sipped my milk.
“Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
By the time we’d finished eating our cookies and I’d gone up to my room to tackle some homework, I’d convinced myself that Devin was just being overdramatic with his warning about Asher. For whatever reason, he and his cousin weren’t close and they didn’t like each other. Some families were like that, I guessed. I didn’t really know. All I’d ever had were my parents—no grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, or siblings—and Aunt Jo.
Sighing, I dropped onto my bed, flipped onto my stomach, and pulled out my American History notebook, figuring I could distract myself by actually learning a thing or two. But dark thoughts tiptoed through my brain for the rest of the night. I’d always been so good, not wanting to disappoint my parents—even though they were no longer here to know—not wanting to be a burden to Aunt Jo. I followed the rules. Got to class before the late-bell rang. Always turned in my homework on time. Asher was a little bit wild. Alluring, maybe, in a bad boy sort of way. What would it feel like to be with someone like that? To not follow the rules?
Devin, on the other hand, was a rule follower. Rules created order. It was the reason every civilized society lived by them. A set of codes, moral and ethical. But what really appealed to me about Devin was the tranquility I could see on his face. He possessed that calmness that I had yet to achieve. Rules created order—and order created calm. I always strove for calm.
Hours of fruitless studying passed. I made sure the window was closed and locked before I got into bed. I lay wide awake, counting the fake stars on my ceiling till I couldn’t remember what number came next.
In my dreams, Devin was forgotten. Asher’s face was close to mine, his lips almost touching me as he whispered in my ear.
Chapter 8
The moment I saw Asher in homeroom on Monday, my face flushed embarrassingly and goose bumps trailed all the way down my arms. I looked away quickly. After my dream, I just couldn’t face him. I didn’t remember what he had whispered to me—only the feeling that had lingered afterward. Only the memory of his lips as they barely grazed my skin.
In American History, he tossed his backpack down and sat in the empty chair next to me.
“That’s Ellie’s seat,” I said, perhaps a little too sharply. Ellie and I were two of only three juniors on the ski team, and she’d kill me if I gave up her seat. “She always sits there.”
He crossed his arms and leaned way back in his chair, looking at me. “From what I understand, you need someone to keep you on task. There are a lot of dates to memorize in American History. And it doesn’t look like you’re doing too hot as far as World War One is concerned.”
I grimaced. He was right, of course. Since he’d arrived, I was having a difficult time concentrating in all of my classes, but for some reason, history, with its rote memorization, had been the hardest. Having him sit next to me was like sabotage.
“Hey, Skye,” Ellie said, appearing behind us. “Ready for practice today? I heard . . .” She trailed off as she noticed Asher. Her hand immediately went to her blond corkscrew curls, and she began twirling one around her index finger.
“Sorry,” I said. “He was just leaving.”
Ellie’s eyes grew wide.
“No!” she said quickly. “Really, don’t worry about it.” She smiled at Asher. “You take it. I forgot my glasses today anyway, so I should sit closer to the blackboard.” The flirtation in her voice was a little sickening. “Enjoy my seat. Keep it warm for me.”
She sashayed up the rows of desks to a seat closer to the front, eyeing us the whole time.
I turned to Asher, dumbfounded. He laughed.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” he said, hands up in surrender. “I can’t help it if I have that effect on people.”
“On girls, you mean,” I shot back.
“If you say so,” he said with a grin.
“I’d rather not.”
He leaned in, bringing his earthy scent with him. There was something primal and familiar about it, but with him leaning so close to me, I couldn’t concentrate hard enough to place it. “I know you’ve been spending some time with my cousin. Really not a good idea. You might want to avoid him in the future.”