Shoulders dropping, I fall back in my seat with a huff.
It’s unlike Jamie not to be waiting for me when I arrive, ready to whisk me off and tell me everything about the past year. But today, he’s nowhere.
I try to hide my disappointment as I climb out of the car and shuffle up the steps to where Grannie stands, hands on her hips. Her lips tip up in a half smile—that’s about as good as it gets with Grannie.
She pulls me into a brief hug and then looks me over in my denim shorts and tank top. I pull it down, feeling self-conscious under her appraising gaze. It fit better a month ago, but Mum says I grew likea weed, because now it shows a sliver of my stomach. Grannie shares a glance with her over my shoulder and shakes her head but says nothing, though I’m sure she’ll have something to say to Papa later. I also won’t be surprised if this shirt disappears in the washing this week.
Mum says they’reold fashioned—whatever that means. When she was growing up, they never let her spend too much time with boys or dress too “revealing.” Thank goodness they don’t mind me spending nearly all my time with Jamie.
Speaking of Jamie… I eye the yard again, but nothing. Why isn’t he here? He’s not over being my friend, is he? A knot forms in my belly. At fourteen, maybe he’d rather spend the summer with his school friends… not with some city girl.
Before I can go in search of him, my parents and Grannie whisk me inside and I’m trapped in a conversation usually reserved for the adults.
Papa gives me a stiff side hug. “Good drive?” he asks, as if I was the one behind the wheel.
“Too long. I slept most of the time,” I say with a shrug, bouncing on my toes with the desire to get back outside.
He nods, releasing me, and turns his attention to my parents.
I see my chance to escape and take it, flying out the back door in search of the person I really want to see.
The opening in the hedge between our two properties is neat and tidy and I take that as a good sign. Jamie’s the one who makes sure it’s not overgrown, creating our own special portal to each other for the summer. It’s like slipping into another world, one that’s just forus. I weave my way around puddles because I don’t have my wellies on yet, and head for the tire swing.
My heart sinks when I find it empty. I bite my lip and spin in a circle, finding the ladder propped against the side of the inn. Now I’m sure I know where he is, but why is he up there?
I’ve only been up on the roof once, and Angus chewed us out so thoroughly that we never tried it again. Looks like it’s time for another attempt. I make sure no one is watching out the kitchen window and take a breath as I start my climb. One hand over the other, one step at a time.
My head pops over the edge of the tall, slanted roof and I see him sitting with his back against the chimney, eyes closed behind his glasses. He looks peaceful, but my heart tells me he wouldn’t be hiding out if something wasn’t wrong.
“You know, this isn’t the safest spot for a nap,” I say, hoping he won’t be upset I came looking for him.
His head swivels my way. He looks sad, and as I make my way across the rooftop, I see that his eyes are red behind his lenses, like he’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, moving until I’m right next to him. My thigh presses against his, our arms and shoulders lining up so I can lean into him. I watch his face, waiting for his answer.
“We’re moving,” he says, refusing to look at me. Instead, he stares out across the trees into the distance.
“What do you mean? Are your grandparents selling the inn? Where’s your new house going to be?” I hate the idea of him notbeing right next door, but Cluaran’s not that big. Maybe next summer I’ll bring my bike up so I can get to his house more easily.
He shakes his head, and the faraway look on his face makes me uneasy. I hold my breath, a pit opening in my stomach.
“Gran and Grandad are staying here at the inn. But—” He breaks off with a huff and his lip trembles like he’s just barely holding it together. “My parents were offered a job building a new distillery from the ground up. In America.”
I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand, and his face crumples.
“You can’t move to America,” I whisper through my fingers, but it’s the wrong thing to say.
“It’s not like I have a choice, Avi,” he snaps back.
This outburst is so out of character for him that I’m stunned silent. Then his shoulders begin to shake and I take a calming breath to rein in how I’m feeling. This isn’t about me. Even if my heart is breaking. Will I ever get to see him again if he moves to the States?
“I know. I’m sorry. When—” I stutter over the word. “When do you leave?”
Please say after the summer. Please say after the summer.
“The last week of break…” He blows out a heavy breath and finally looks at me, anguish written all over his face.
I’ve never seen a boy cry before—unless they were hurt—and decide on the spot that I hate it. It’s even more heartbreaking than when my girlfriends cry. Jamie is always so happy and lighthearted. Seeing him like this is horrible.
