Page 66 of Hired By the Enemy
Jana Newton makes a big deal of pretending to check she’s not having hallucinations. She rubs her eyes and blinks at the two of us.
“Is this really happening?”
“We’re boyfriends, yes,” Matthew says.
“Nothing makes sense in the world anymore,” Jana says. “It’s like the sky has turned green.”
My father approaches me and does a double-take when he sees Matthew and me holding hands.
“You remember Matthew,” I say.
My father’s eyebrows fly up.
“The boy next door,” he says slowly.
“Yeah. I fell for the boy next door,” I say.
“Such a straightforward, simple love story,” Matthew says,and I start to laugh until I replay his words and my breath hitches.
Love. He said this was a love story.
Matthew’s eyes are wide like he’s just realized what he’s said.
For a few seconds, we just stare at each other.
“Hate and love are supposed to be very close emotions.” My voice is hoarse.
Matthew has a tentative smile on his face. “I think we provide some evidence for that concept.”
Dad claps a hand on my shoulder, breaking the little bubble where Matthew and I are locked in each other’s gaze. “Good for you boys.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely good for us,” I say.
Matthew and I continue to hold hands as we go around the market until he suddenly tugs his hand out of my grasp.
“Ooh, I see something I think you’ll love. Be back in a sec, okay?”
“Okay.”
I can’t stop grinning as I head to the next booth selling Christmas candy.
But my smile fades when I recognize the elderly lady with gray curls behind the counter.
“Liam Jamieson.” She says the words with a scowl that reflects the same disdain you would use for maggoty roadkill.
I shuffle uncomfortably.
“Ms. Beauton, hi. I’m surprised you recognized me. It’s been so long.”
Despite the years, she hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still prim and proper, dressed immaculately in her yellow cardigan.
The look she levels me with hasn’t changed either.
“Oh, trust me, I will never forget your face,” she says. “Thatsixth-grade class I taught with you and Matthew O’Conner in it was the most challenging year I had in my teaching career.”
Something in her expression tells me she hasn’t forgiven us for putting her through everything that happened that year.
“Sorry about that,” I mutter.
