left.
Uncle Lenny laughs. “You don’t have to lie, Harper. But you’ll get used to it here, I promise you. I was just suggesting that you and your brother take Granddad’s old car and drive into town. I’ve got my pick-up here for errands, and I hear this weekend’s the annual Autumn Fest. Brings out a lot of people; maybe you’ll even meet someone your age.”
Uncle Lenny’s trying to be understanding, and I’m touched. At the same time, I’m not exactly crazy about the idea of attending some Hick Town event. Then again, what alternative do I have? I could sit in my room and read all day, I guess….
I glance over at Chase. He’s just ended his phone call with Monica, and now he slides off the kitchen counter, stretching his arms. His hoodie pulls across his torso, and I notice how filled-out he’s gotten lately. It’s weird to see stuff like that happening to your brother.
I can tell he heard what Uncle Lenny said to me. “You want to go into town?” I ask. I’ll take my cue from him.
Chase shrugs, tucking his cell into the back pocket of his jeans. “Didn’t have any other plans,” he says. That confirms it.
Chase and I don’t have much of a problem finding our way from Granddad’s farm to the small downtown area of Oak Leaf.
“What a stupid name for a town,” Chase says, pulling into a parking space in front of a pretty sad-looking little bank and trust. “Oak Leaf. It’s like an afterthought or something.”
“Probably was,” I agree. “I mean, look at this place.” We get out of Granddad’s rusty Buick, and I make a sweeping gesture with my arms.
Downtown Oak Leaf encompasses about one-and-a-half block lengths of shoddy-looking establishments: two diners, a hokey coffee shop (What? No Starbucks?), several novelty shops, an absolutely ancient five-and-dime, a pharmacy, a bakery, a puny library, the bank and trust, a gas station, the hardware store where Uncle Lenny works, and a small food mart. The whole place looks stuck back in the 1970’s. It’s an out-of-body experience.
Across the street from where we parked is a large open park, filled with white tents and an assortment of food vendors and stands selling homemade kettle corn and bakery goods. A (very bad) local rock band jams on a makeshift stage in one of the tents, which is filled with tables. The people inside are eating, laughing, even dancing to the music. One couple looks particularly drunk. The booze flows freely here; there’s even a beer garden set up at the back of the park.
“Looks like there’s not much fun here for people under twenty-one,” Chase mutters as we cross the street. “Think they check IDs in places like this?”
I slug his arm. “That’s probably the one way in which they’re not so backward.”
“Yeah,” my brother snorts. “Just our luck.”
We enter the park, strolling past the booths, assessing what’s for sale, stopping to buy a bag of piping-hot kettle corn. It’s warm and sweet, sticky with sugar. I push a large handful into my mouth.
Farther back, near the playground part of the park, a kids’ area is set up. At one table, groups of ten-and-unders paint funny faces on small pumpkins and gourds. At another table, there’s a coloring contest. On the lawn behind the swing set, an energetic woman runs a relay race that involves the putting on and taking off of Halloween costumes.
“It’s official,” concludes Chase. “There is nothing here for people our age.”
A man’s voice cracks through the chilly air just then, announcing a fudge-eating contest in one of the tents. Chase’s eyebrows rise. “I might as well give it a try, seeing as I don’t have many other choices. You coming with me?”
I wrinkle my nose. Gorging myself on as much fudge as I can eat in under a minute is not my thing, and I tell my brother so. “I’ll wander around on my own,” I say. “I don’t particularly want to watch such a sickening contest. But good luck.”
With that, he’s off, and I’m on my own. I watch the little kids paint pumpkins for a while. When I’m bored, I meander on, stopping only when I reach the mouth of a trail at the very back of the park. It’s quiet here, removed from the noise of Autumn Fest. The trail leads back into the woods a ways, almost a tunnel created by the overhanging multicolored trees. I part the branches and step inside, curious. Even though I know there’s probably nothing back here, I press on, pushing past branches and stepping on twigs.
For whatever reason, I’m enraptured by the quietude, the density of the fall colors, the heady fragrance of the leaves and the chilly air. At last, I find a stump and sit down, thinking how great a place this would be to watch wildlife. Chipmunks and squirrels, maybe even a deer, if I’m quiet and still enough. Excited, I hold myself tight and wait. The atmosphere seems charged with mystery, even magic, though I cannot say why.
From behind me comes the cracking sound of twigs, and I pull in my breath. Maybe this is a deer right now! The footfalls sound heavy enough to be. Barely moving, I pull my cell phone from the deep pocket of my jacket. Wouldn’t it be great if I could take a picture?
“Whoa!” says a voice, nearly scaring me to death. “What are you doing here?”
Heart pounding, I whip around to see a boy about my age emerging from the trees that form one side of the wooded trail. He has curly light brown hair, a healthy olive glow to his skin that I would kill for, and a few random freckles dotted lightly across his nose. His mouth is drawn up in a cocky grin, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses perch on his nose, giving him personality. He’s about Chase’s height and weight, with broad shoulders, good musculature. Even though it’s chilly, he wears only a nondescript T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Wow. He’s…hot.
“What am I doing here?” I volley back, struggling to keep the pink out of my cheeks. “I could ask you the same thing. I thought only animals could squeeze through those trees! And you scared me!”
He laughs, a cocky, though not unkind, sound that quickens my pulse. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s only natural.”
“Natural?” I repeat.
He shrugs. “That I scared you.” At my blank look, he forges on. “I’m Danny. What’s your name?” He tips his head to the side and grins at me, giving me delighted chills up and down my spine.
Assessing him carefully, I say, “I’m Harper Johnston.”
“Nice meeting you, Harper. You live around here?” Danny settles himself easily at the foot of the stump where I sit, and I find myself telling him the whole story of how Mom, Chase, and I ended up coming to live with Uncle Lenny in Oak Leaf.
He’s a good listener, a quality I love in a guy. Not only that, he seems to understand how the move has made me feel. At last, I stop, drawing a breath and pulling my knees up onto the stump. I wrap my legs around them and turn toward Danny. “Sorry for venting like that. I must’ve talked too much. I guess I do that when I get stressed out.” Embarrassed, I shake my hair back from my face and ask, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Danny tosses an acorn toward a squirrel. To my surprise, rather than snatch up the nut, the squirrel darts away, fur standing up on its back as though it senses imminent danger. Danny swivels toward me again, darting a flirty grin in my direction.
I latch steadily onto his gaze, refusing to look down, until we both find ourselves blushing. “You know what I mean. Tell me about yourself. How old are you, where do you live, where do you go to school? That kind of thing. You really don’t seem like the type of guy I expected to find in Oak Leaf,” I add boldly. Far from it. Danny is, well, captivating!
He laughs. “Let me guess: overalls and a straw hat?” He shakes his head. “We don’t all perpetuate those stereotypes. As for how old I am…I’m seventeen.” Is it just my imagination, or is there something wistful about his voice as he tells me this? “I…live over that way.” He makes a sweeping motion beyond the woods. “And I don’t go to school.”
“You don’t?” I ask, surprised. “Did you drop out of high school?”
“Something like that.” He fidgets with his shoelace.
I frown at him. Why is he being so evasive? “Do yo
u work?”
“I get by.” Danny tilts his head back, grinning easily at me now. “Really, Harper, you don’t want to know about me. I’m not that interesting. I’d rather learn about you. You’re beautiful, you know.”
“Thanks.” My heart skitters, but I refuse to be thrown off course. Who would have thought that cocky grin of Danny’s would belie such humility? “But I do want to know about you,” I insist. I can’t believe how bold I’m being with this attractive guy. Sure, I’ve never been the shy type, but still….
“You haven’t even told me your last name,” I coax Danny.
“Harper!” I recognize my brother’s voice, calling me.
“Oh!” I jump up off the stump. “That’s Chase. He must be done with the fudge-eating contest. Wonder if he won? Come meet my brother, Danny.”
A strange flicker of apprehension crosses Danny’s features. He picks himself up from the ground. “No….Ummm, I’ve got to go, Harper. I’ll see you around.” Before I can protest, Danny’s fingers brush my cheek, somehow hot and cold at once, and he wraps one of my long curls around his thumb. The look he gives me is enough to melt me. Just as my heart begins to pound in earnest, he slips back between the trees and seems almost to vanish.
“Danny, wait!” I call after him, and then I realize, just like that, that he is gone, along with the mysterious charged feeling that lingered in