Page 22 of This Kind of Forever
“What about you?”
His hands return to those damn pockets. “I’ll be okay. I’m a little warm right now anyway.”
I’m not sure how that’s possible, but I don’t argue. When another breeze whips through and he doesn’t ask for his jacket back, I slip my arms through the sleeves. Just in time, too, because the ride attendant waves us forward. Once the previous riders exit, Gabe gestures for me to hop on first.
The seats remind me of a ski lift, where you sit side by side. When I sit down on the far side, Gabe slides in after me, and then the lap bar is pulled down to secure us in place.
The ride begins to move almost instantly, but it stops shortly after to exchange another pair of riders. When we get to the top, the ride comes to a halt again.
“I feel like I’m on top of the world up here,” I say. Then I blush. “Oh my God, that was so cheesy.”
Whycan I never just be chill around him? I feel like I’m always blurting out something stupid when I’m in his presence.
Gabe chuckles. “No, I get it,” he assures me. “There’s nothing that makes your problems feel small quite like watching everything from up here.”
It’s true. The cars look smaller, the houses, the world. I take a deep breath. It’s a perspective shift, one I’ve been needing.
When I turn back to him, Gabe is studying the fair below us. I study his profile, memorizing his features. His brown hair is a little messy, but I know he uses products to make it look that way. Unlike his brother, he keeps his face clean-shaven. To put it bluntly, he’s insanely handsome, and he makes the butterflies living in my stomach flutter nonstop.
Gabe looks over at me just as the wind kicks up again, blowing a wayward strand of hair into my face. Before I can swipe it away, his hand is there. With deft fingers, he tucks the piece behind my ear, and then he…lingers.
He’s touching my jaw, so close to my thundering pulse, and his gaze is locked on mine. But then it shifts, andoh my God, he’s looking at my lips. They part in disbelief. Gabe tracks the movement.
Holy crap.What do I do?I’ve never been kissed before, unless you count when one of the boys in my grade three class was dared to kiss me on the lips during recess. It was over in half a second, and he only caught the corner of my mouth.
“Foster,” he says. His voice is strained. “Hallie.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
I don’t know what I’m agreeing to exactly, butyes. Obviously yes. Gabe could ask me anything right now and I’d happily agree.
He leans closer, tilts my head back. I’m barely breathing. Then?—
The ride lurches, and the Ferris wheel starts spinning. We both scramble back to our respective sides of the bench, startled. I can’t look at him, so I stare off to the right. Even in the near dark, Kip Island looks pretty from up here. I focus on that.
And I tell myself Gabe wasn’t about to kiss me.
It was all in my head.
NINE
HALLIE
I’ve been scaredof the wind since I was seven years old.
Back then, Amanda and I lived by ourselves in a small house in town. That night, there was a lot of rain coming down, and the wind was strong. I don’t remember much before the tree fell, except calling out for my mother and not getting a reply.
When the tree landed on our house, the loud bang reverberated as the branches smashed through my bedroom window. It sounded like the world was ending, the earth being ripped apart at the seams.
I do remember being terrified. The wind grew louder, howling as it whipped through my bedroom. Glass was scattered all over the floor and caught in my clothing. My hair. My fingers came back bloody when I touched my cheek. And still, Amanda didn’t come. Not until much later, when she returned from a friend’s house.
Pops was really angry that night. After that, he brought me to live with him. Amanda stuck around town for another month and then she took off. That wasn’t the first time she’d run. It certainly wasn’t the last.
Tonight, the rain comes down in sheets, battering against the roof of the guesthouse. I can handle the rain, but when the lightning and thunder start, that’s when I begin to worry. Soon, all I can think about is that window. That tree.
There are a few towering maples in Gabe’s backyard. They look pretty solid, but you never know. I certainly never thought that tree at our old house would come crashing down.
Sitting in the middle of my bed, I tuck my knees up to my chest. The storm has been raging for a while now, with no end in sight. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that I won’t be getting much sleep tonight, if any, thanks to the howling that’s going on outside. Outside, where branches twist and bend and snap.
