Page 10 of Austen, Edited

It was almost seven, so she was probably home from work. At least, he hoped she would be. He ran up and took a shower, checking his phone the minute he got out. Still nothing.

He dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo, refusing to don the traditional Campbell attire of a suit nearly every second of the day. He stared out the window of his bedroom that faced into the backyard and straight at the tree line.

The trees reminded him of their old playhouse. He took the stairs a few at a time, jogging through the kitchen toward the large French doors that led out back.

“Greyson, where are you going?” his mother asked, spotting him as she came in from the garage.

“Just wanted to check something. I’ll be back in a bit.” He disappeared through the French door before she could make a fuss about it, lengthening his strides across the back lawn.

His parents’ property was like a large box, including several acres of manicured lawns and flower gardens. In the back corner sat a small putting green and a pool. The pool house took up a large section in the other direction. But beyond those was a tree border that blocked off the horse pasture behind it, all part of the Campbell property. His mother didn’t want guests to look out on nothing but dirt and manure.

He entered the line of trees and turned right without pausing. The path was overgrown, with several branches stretched over where he’d walked almost every day throughout his childhood and teen years. He bent several branches away so they wouldn’t smack him in the face as he picked his way through.

In another minute he stood in front of the haphazard playhouse he and Abby had constructed over the years using stray boards they’d found when neighboring houses remodeled. His family had the money to build a nice one, but there was something about them doing it themselves that had made it even more special to them.

He peeked inside, but nothing stirred. It looked like several cobwebs had taken over the inside. The thought hit too close to home as he thought of his current relationship with Abby.

He’d been so sure she’d be out here that the creak of something on the other side caused him to jump. He took the two steps to the edge of the tree and saw her sitting in a red camping chair, her leg slung over one of the arms while her upper body slumped to the side. She held a book in her hands, of course. The whole sight brought back so many memories, of all those fun times when she would tell him about the stories she’d read, her excitement filling him.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he said.

She must not have heard him coming because she jumped, the chair’s instability causing her to topple to the side.

“Whoa!” Even before she hit the ground, he could hear her laughing.

He leaned over and lifted her by the arm, helping to right the chair as well. “Always lost in a book. What are you reading this time?”

Her cheeks turned red even in the dim light of the shade of the trees. “It might be a romance novel. Nothing you’d be interested in for sure.” She gave him a side-glance, a smirk on her lips.

“Romance, huh? Are you no longer the fantasy queen?” He sat down, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree with his knees bent. He draped his arms over them, looking up at her and waiting.

“I’ve always read just about anything but horror, and now is no exception.” She paused, tilting her chin up a little. “I have a couple new paranormal romance books in my room, along with some straight fantasy. Gotta have them all.”

Greyson chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ve picked up a book that wasn’t mandatory reading since I left Boston for school.”

Abby’s mouth dropped, and she exaggerated the blinks of her eyes as if she couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious right now? How do you survive without stories? If you checked my online TrueReads profile, I’ve probably read eighty-five books since the beginning of this year.”

“And how many have you read for class, Miss English Major?”

She tried to hide a smile by twisting her lips to the side, but it didn’t last. “Okay, maybe twenty of those were for my classes. But other than that, the rest are all ones I chose to read.”

“So I take it you haven’t seen any new movies lately. We should go see one tonight.” He picked up a fallen leaf and twirled it in his fingers. He was supposed to be distancing himself from girls, but spending time with Abby was different. But surely they could do something more than just sit out here in their old hideout on a Friday night. The urge to go out with her was stronger than it had ever been.

He looked up, and seeing the straight line of her lips set his brain off, wondering what she could be thinking.

She finally shook her head and in a soft voice said, “I don’t feel like going to the movies.” If he hadn’t been listening, he wouldn’t have caught the last two words she said in a near-silent whisper. “With you.”

He should have thought of it before, should have remembered what had happened the last time they’d gone to a movie together. Hannah had just started hanging out with them and had invited herself along, dumping a large soda on Abby as she tried to scoot by to sit next to Greyson on the other side.

“I’m not going to dump Coke all over you. Let’s go. It will be fun.”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of.” She turned her eyes back to her book, almost pretending he wasn’t there. Her pointer finger traced her lips, a continuing circle as her eyes moved along the page.

“Then what is it? Why don’t you want to go to the movies with me?”

She shook her head. “It’s Friday night. I don’t feel like moving in a mass of people downtown to get there.”

“Okay, then we can go get some food somewhere, or even have something delivered.” He reached over and shook the leg of her chair, jostling her a bit.

---