~~***~~
In Government, Mr. Thompson announced to a groaning classroom a group project assignment. “Now, come on, this won’t be that bad,” he reproved them. “You’ll need to form groups of three or four. Each person should choose a different U.S. president on whom to write an essay. Then, together, you will compare their different administrative and legislative styles. You will designate one person in your group to write a compilation essay on your comparative study. Your individual essays will constitute sixty percent of your grade, the compilation essay will make up the other forty, so each of you better assist the person you choose to write it.”
Raising his voice above the renewed protests and complaints, he instructed them to take the rest of the period to form their groups and choose on their presidents.
Lyra whirled in her seat to face Jonah. Before she could utter a word, Jonah held up a hand and, faking a look of painful sufferance, answered her unasked question. “Yes, I’ll be in your group, Lyra.” Her responding smile was smug and he chuckled. Lyra next asked a timid girl with an unfortunate stutter named Gina to join their duo. Gina eyed Jonah fearfully, but accepted Lyra’s invitation. They spent the rest of the period debating who to write their papers over.
When the bell rang, Lyra and Jonah walked together to their seventh period classes, hers Art, his U.S. History, which happened to be in the same hall. Kyle, walking from the other direction, caught sight of them. His eyes shifted from Lyra to Jonah and back again. His face twisted into a malicious sneer and as he passed he hissed “Bitch” just loud enough for them to hear. It felt as though Lyra had been punched in the stomach. She stopped, frozen in shock. Beside her, Jonah’s body went rigid and his expression turned murderous. He spun around and Lyra just managed to grab the back of his shirt before he was out of reach.
“Don’t,” she wheezed. He halted, reluctantly, and allowed her to pull him back. He turned, and seeing her distress, quickly put his arm around her, holding her steady.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes roving over her face.
Lyra gulped in some air and nodded. “Just shocked. No one’s ever called me that. Guess I’ve lead a pretty sheltered life, huh?” She smiled up at him ruefully.
His expression turned hard again, but he kept his arm around her as he urged her on toward her classroom. He left her at the door, grateful for his assistance.
He was waiting to walk her to her car when the final bell rang. She’d had an hour to compose herself and was able to greet him calmly. She could tell he was still furious, but he was trying to conceal it from her.
“You don’t have to escort me around, Jonah. I’m perfectly fine—and safe,” she tried to assure him, though she was secretly delighted he’d been waiting for her.
He was silent until they reached her Camry. She leaned against the driver’s door looking up at him. He was standing close, leaning over her. She could feel the heat radiating from him. His azure eyes held hers.
“And what if I said I just enjoy your company and want to be with you as much as possible?” he asked, his voice soft but intense.
Somewhere in the region of her belly, warmth pooled and spread outward. “Well, that would be okay, then,” Lyra whispered, forgetting how to breathe.
One corner of his mouth lifted crookedly. “Then we have an understanding, don’t we?” he challenged, repeating Kyle’s words from the day before.
Lyra nodded mutely, her heart hammering against her breast.
His eyes moved over her face once more before he straightened up and broke the intimacy. “Have a good weekend, Lyra.”
She frowned in disappointment—two whole days without seeing him. She curbed the urge to ask him over or at least give him her phone number. She probably already appeared too desperate in her infatuation of him. She swallowed and forced out a cheerful “You too,” before climbing in her car.
Her parents came home early that evening and the three of them ate dinner and watched a National Geographic program about parrots of the Australian outback on television together. When her parents turned in, she shuffled off to her room too. She’d never looked forward to Monday so much.
As was her custom, on Saturday morning Lyra helped her mom with the housework and grocery shopping. That afternoon she did a little studying, researching her president, Calvin Coolidge, online, and spent a couple hours practicing her cello. The day seemed to drag on endlessly.
After dinner, she took Harry out for some exercise. Fog had rolled in and the forest seemed strange and otherworldly. It was very still, all of the animals burrowed in their nests and dens for the night. She didn’t wander very far past their backyard boundary. Though she had never been afraid of being outside at night, the fog seemed to press itself around her ominously. The hair stood up on the back of her neck and she had the eerie feeling that she was not alone, that she was being watched. She peered all around, but couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction through the cloying mist. She called Harry back to her side and they quickly made their way back up the slope toward her house.
Once inside she laughed at herself for getting spooked. She’d grown up in these woods and knew there was nothing in the dark to fear.
She went to bed early, thinking that at least tomorrow she’d be with Aimee and the day would pass more quickly.
Sunday morning her parents were up and dressed when Lyra and Harry made their way downstairs. After their necessary trip outside, Lyra and Harry joined them in the kitchen for breakfast. Gordon and Olivia were spending the day at the club playing tennis, lunching with their friends, the Coles, and swimming in the heated, indoor pool. They invited Lyra to accompany them, but Lyra informed them of her study date with Aimee. When they were gone, Lyra showered and donned blue jeans and a sweatshirt for her casual day at Aimee’s house.
At 10:00, the phone rang; it was Aimee, canceling their plans. “Kimmy’s got strep-throat,” Aimee informed her, apologetically. “Mom’s working all day so I’m stuck nursing her. You better not come over because she’s contagious,” Aimee concluded glumly. Lyra hung up the phone dispiritedly.
Now what? The day stretched out endlessly before her. Her homework was done, the housework was done. She could play her cello a while, but she had really been looking forward to getting out of the house. She rambled through the empty rooms dejectedly. As it so often did of late, her mind turned to Jonah. She wondered what he was doing. She chewed her lower lip. Should she call him? She recalled what he’d said yesterday at her car. “And what if I said I just enjoy your company and want to be with you as much as possible?” Had he been serious or was that just been an excuse to keep an eye on her at school?
Well, there was one way to find out. She marched back to the kitchen and picked up her phone. Her fingers trembled slightly with nervousness as she searched through her contacts and then punched in his number.
He answered on the second ring. “Hello?” His deep, silken voice sent a shiver of excitement up her spine.
“Jonah?”
“Yeah,” he replied, a note of surprise in his tone.
“Hi, it’s Lyra.”
“I kind of guessed that since you are the only person who has my phone number.”
“Right…Well, um, I was just wondering what you were doing today,” she stammered awkwardly.
“Not much…Why?” he asked, slowly, cautiously.
“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out or something.” Was that the best she could come up with, she berated herself silently. “We could, um, go hiking. Have you been up to Avalanche Lake yet?” inspiration finally striking.
He was silent for a moment. “I thought you were studying with Aimee today,” he replied, avoiding her question.
“How did you know that?” She asked, startled.
Silence. “Didn’t you tell me?” he hedged.
Lyra racked her brain to recall that conversation, but she came
up blank. Perhaps he had been walking by their table when Aimee asked her. She didn’t remember seeing him, but if he had been walking behind her…She let it go for now.
“I don’t know...Anyway, Aimee’s little sister has strep-throat so she had to cancel.” She was distracted—still trying to remember their conversation yesterday afternoon.
“So, do you want to?” she repeated.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Lyra,” he said haltingly.
“Oh, well, if your busy then…No problem…Harry will be disappointed” (Harry, right!), “but we’ll, um, try to have fun without you,” she boasted with false cheerfulness.
“You’re going alone?” he demanded, alarmed.
Lyra was taken aback. “Of course. Harry and I hike alone all the time.”
Jonah growled something that sounded like “I know you do.”
“I’ve hiked Avalanche Lake trail several times. It’s not difficult. We’ll be back well before dark, even taking our time,” Lyra assured him.
He sighed affectedly. “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. And dress warm,” he ordered, “it’s cold out today.”
“Jonah…no…I,” but the line had gone dead. He’d hung up on her! She huffed angrily, berating herself for calling him in the first place. He obviously didn’t want to go with her, but wouldn’t let her go alone. Of all the arrogant…She redialed his number furiously. He answered before the first ring had finished.
“Yes?” he drawled.
“I changed my mind. I don’t want to go,” Lyra announced defiantly. “Thank you, though, for your generous and courteous offer to accompany me,” She added with poisonous sweetness.
He chuckled, “Lyra, will you please allow me to take you and Harry hiking today at Avalanche Lake?”
Lyra vacillated. She really did want to see him, but was this just his protectiveness coming out again? It seemed he was more worried about her safety than wanting to spend time with her. And she would not force herself on him. She had some pride after all.
“Please?” he pressed, his voice mocking, but just as seductive.
Her resistance evaporated. “All right,” she mumbled.
“Good. You’re down to 15 minutes now,” and he hung up again.
She squealed, snapping her phone shut. She sprinted back upstairs, checked her appearance and exchanged her tennis shoes for her hiking boots. Downstairs once more, she dashed out to the garage where she searched for and found a small, lightweight backpack. Then she ran to the kitchen and threw in three bottles of water, a handful of granola bars, and Harry’s flexible, nylon water bowl. She was jotting her parents a quick note advising them of her change in plans when the doorbell rang. Harry tore off toward the door, his booming barks echoing off the wood floors and walls. Hundreds of butterflies erupted in her stomach. She was spending the whole day with Jonah. The thought made her lightheaded.
She tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to repress her elation, and went to get the door. Holding Harry by his collar, she opened the door and there he stood. He looked fantastic in scuffed boots, tattered blue jeans, and a faded Hollister sweatshirt. His expression was amused as he looked down at her.
“Come in for a second,” she managed when she found her voice. As soon as she let go of Harry, he launched himself on Jonah. Jonah laughed and scratched Harry’s neck as he nudged him inside in order to shut the door. He followed Lyra to the kitchen where she completed her note.
“Where are your mom and dad?” Jonah asked, his eyes narrowing.
“They’re at the club for the day,” Lyra informed him. “I’m sorry you won’t get to meet them. They’ll probably be here when we get back, though.”
Jonah’s expression darkened and he took a step toward her. “What did I tell you about letting people into the house when no one is home?”
Lyra rolled her eyes. “I thought we had limited that broad category of ‘people’ down to axe murders.”
Jonah glowered at her. “And how do you know I’m not?”
“You are an axe murder?” she gasped in mock horror.
He exhaled sharply. “What am I going to do with you?” he groaned, shaking his head and raising his eyes heavenward.
“Take me hiking. C’mon.” She grabbed her parka from the coat closet and they set out.