“Okay.” I offer him a smile, and he flashes me one in return before reaching for my hand again and pulling me along behind him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jamie – Eighteen Years Ago
Ilead Avonlea—Avi—through the garden, trying to avoid the puddles. I feel bad that I scared her and that she ruined her shorts, so I’m doing my best to keep the same from happening to her white trainers.
But I mean…whitetrainers? On Skye?
Nah, this girl needs wellies.
“Where’d you come from?” I ask, not able to hold in my questions any longer. Our school has less than eighty kids, so a new kid in town is a big deal. When I saw her peeking through the hedge, I had to investigate. And she’ll be right next door, all summer!
“Glasgow.” She tugs on her hand but I hold on. I want to show her my favorite part of the garden and I won’t stop until we get there.
“Cool. Do you like it there? Living in the city?”
I’veonly been to the city once, so I really don’t know anything about it. I’ve always lived on Skye—same little village, same people.
“It’s pretty cool. My mum and dad own a pub there.”
I nod and we slip under an archway that leads to my favorite place.Finally. It’s a secluded garden around the side of the inn—just off the kitchen—and there’s a tire swing in the middle. My grandad can see me from the kitchen window when he’s in there cooking.
Sometimes, especially during the summer when the inn is busy and they don’t want me underfoot, I come out here to read… or write. That’s my new favorite hobby—at least when I don’t have permission to go exploring.
After the rain we had last night, there’s a big mud puddle underneath the swing. Not that it’ll hold me back though.
I let go of Avi’s hand and run for the tire. The splat of my boots in the mud is drowned out by my excitedwhoop!when I leap up onto the tire and grab the ropes overhead. The swing twists and I can see Avi’s shocked face turn to delight as she begins to laugh.
“Come on then,” I say, cocking my head, wondering if she’ll join me.
“I can’t do that!” she says, but the smile she’s trying to hide by chewing on her lip tells me she really wants to.
“I mean… you could.” I hop down off the tire with another splat.
She looks down at her shoes, already showing smaller specks of mud, then to her shorts and legs that have streaks of mud on them. The skin around her eyes crinkles and she smiles big—so big all her teeth show. Then, without warning, she lets out an excited squeal and makes a break for the tire. Her blonde hair flies out behind herlike a yellow flag in the wind, the white ribbon of her bow catching the sunlight.
She looks right at me when she stomps both feet in the mud before launching herself at the tire. But she’s not as tall as I am and misjudges the distance, only just getting her knees onto it before grabbing the ropes to keep herself from falling. There’s mud splashed up her calves now, but she howls with laughter, her little wheezing breaths breaking through. As the tire rotates on the ropes, I walk closer until we come face-to-face again.
“I think I’ve ruined my shoes, but that was fun.”
“You need some of these.” I lift my foot and shake it at her.
“I have wellies,” she says, wrinkling her nose. She has small freckles there. They’re a lot like mine.
“Can I join you?”
She nods, and I climb onto the tire across from her.
I stand and pull on the ropes to make it swing back and forth. She looks unsure for a second before carefully standing on the opposite side.
Her loud laughs mingle with mine as we take turns pulling to really get the swing going.
She shifts her foot and the mud slicked underneath makes her lose her balance and fall. She lands on her butt on the tire, then slips off backward into the puddle below. The loss of her weight makes the tire flip up and I go tumbling onto the muddy ground too, my palms burning as they slide down the ropes. The tire sways above us lightly, like it didn’t just violently eject us both.
I’m breathing heavily when I meet her eye, then look down to where her mouth is open in a shocked little O. Her face isstreaked with mud and her blonde hair is going to need a triple wash. I’m sure I don’t look much better, and the only thing I can think to do is laugh. It takes her a second of stunned silence before she joins me, but when she does, she can’t stop. Her howls shake her body and we just sit there, covered in mud while we clutch our stomachs.
When we eventually catch our breath, one thought is louder than all the rest: I like her.
