Page 67 of A Thousand Second Chances

“All right,” I sigh, unable to suppress a grin when he beams at me. “I guess we’re in.”

Percy and I climb up into the carriage, and the man clacks his reins to get the horse moving. True to his word, he goes slow, calling out greetings to other carriage drivers as we pass them, along with a few pedestrians I assume must be locals or at least regulars. Turns out our driver’s name is Frank, and while he wasn’t born on Mackinac Island, he’s lived here for over twenty years ever since falling in love with the place on a vacation.

He and Percy exchange a few stories before Frank frowns, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Wentworth, Wentworth…you don’t happen to know aRobertWentworth, do you?”

Percy stiffens beside me, his eyes widening. “That’s my dad!”

Frank chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, now, it’s a small world, ain’t it? He and that girl o’ his, Lizzie, used to come out here all the time. Can’t remember the number of times I’d give them a ride back to their place, drunk and happy as could be. Why, I remember carting people back and forth for their wedding day. Been a while since I’ve seen ’em though. How are your folks doing?”

Percy takes a moment to answer, and I glance at him, worried about his reaction. Mentioning his mom’s been enough to send him into a spiral in past iterations, and sure enough, I catch his eyes glistening. But maybe this trip really is helping him process his grief because he wears a tremulous smile as well. He leans into me, and I lean back instinctively, wanting to offer as much comfort as I can. My hand itches to reach for the fingers he’s anxiously tapping on his leg, but I don’t quite dare.

“My mom passed a year ago,” he says. His voice is surprisingly steady, only wavering a hair, and he keeps his face carefully composed other than a tightening around his eyes. “Cancer.”

Frank bows his head. “My condolences, son. She seemed like a lovely lady.”

Percy’s smile grows more genuine. “She was.”

Talk turns to less fraught topics after that. Frank makes for a great tour guide, pointing out local spots as we pass them and inundating us with all the juicy gossip and small-town facts you won’t find in any book. I wonder if he does this for all his passengers or if Percy’s earned some kind of special treatment.

I should probably be paying more attention to what he says—after all, this is the kind of insider info we’ve spent entire cycles searching for in the past, trying to glean any tidbit that might apply to our situation. But all I can think about is the beautiful boy pressed against me, sharing my warmth, and the equally beautiful town spread out around me.

Disappointment curls through me when we finally come to a halt outside the Royal Lilac. Stepping down from the carriage is almost like waking up from a dream. We wave goodbye to Frank and watch the carriage trundle away.

“Well,” I chuckle, desperate to fill the silence before it can grow. “Hopefully, that makes up for dinner.”

Percy beams at me. “I’d say so. Disaster averted.”

“Good. I’m glad it wasn’t the worst date in history, even if the loop’s going to reset it in a few hours.” I glance toward the front doors. “So…I guess we should head inside?”

Something passes over Percy’s face, but before I can make sense of it, he’s got my hand in his again and is pulling me into the street. He looks back at me, his eyes bright and shining. His grin takes my breath away. “The night’s still young. Come on! There’s someplace I want to show you.”

Hand in hand, we follow the road as it winds away from downtown, the buildings and streetlights growing sparser until we’re walking in near darkness lit only by the moon. Trees line our right, and the rocky lake shore meanders along our left.

I eye the shifting shadows warily. Maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much time brainstorming that story about an island serial killer. “You’re not taking me into the wilderness to murder me, right? I mean, dinner wasn’tthatbad.”

My body reacts entirely too needily to Percy’s throaty chuckle. “Don’t worry. No one’s dying tonight.”

A stone or root catches my foot, and I stumble, directing a glare at the unseen object. “You sure about that? The hazardous terrain might get me if you don’t.”

“I have faith you’ll survive. Besides, we’re almost there.”

“And where exactly are we going?”

I don’t need to be able to see Percy’s face in the darkness to know he’s grinning at me. “You’ll see.”

And okay, as aggravating and unhelpful as that response is, I’ve gotta admit, I kind of dig this new, assertive Percy—the one who seems a lot less self-conscious and a lot more willing to violate my personal space. Little tingles shoot through me at the thought. Percy’s hand in mine burns.

It’s not a terribly long walk, and soon enough, he leads me off the road onto a trail. We follow the path up a short incline to a set of narrow stone steps that open onto an outcroppingoverlooking the water below. A low stone wall surrounds the sides, no doubt to stop dumb tourists like us from tumbling off.

“This is Sunset Rock,” Percy explains as he tugs me further out along the bluff until we reach the short wall at the tip. We stand there, pressed shoulder to shoulder. “I used to come out here all the time when I needed to get away. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made this walk from the Royal Lilac. Sometimes, I’d watch the sunset with the other tourists. Other times, I’d wait until it was dark, like this, so I could lie down and gaze up at the stars.” He shifts, his shoulder rubbing against mine, and lets out a low laugh. “I mean, I know I could’ve done the same thing in the Royal Lilac’s garden, but it felt more personal this way. Like the night sky was for me and no one else. I guess that sounds pretty stupid, huh?”

“Not at all.” In fact, I can imagine it all too easily—Percy overwhelmed by the demands of others and desperate for escape. Isn’t that basically what had happened winter break our freshman year?

This time it’s me who drops Percy’s hand first, though only so I can rest my palm lightly on his lower back. I don’t think I imagine him leaning into the touch. It’s too late to catch an actual sunset, but even at night, the view is breathtaking. My free hand skims absently over the stone wall, and I notice something carved there in tiny block letters. I have to squint to see it, but with the moon and stars, there’s just enough light.

The sun sets on one more day where I will never be enough.

I run my fingers over the words and can practically feel the author’s loneliness seeping through the stone into my bones.They strike a resonant chord within me, as if the writer had peered into my soul and given voice to my own deepest insecurities.