AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I feel darkness at the mention of her mother, like a cloud over the sun. I’ve never liked her mother, never trusted her. She’s one of the reasons I want to take Kat away from Sleepy Hollow, even though I don’t understand why.
“I told my father you would protect me though,” she adds, sounding small.
I swallow. “Did he agree?”
She nods.
“I’ll protect you, daffy,” I tell her. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Even though I’ve never felt safe a day in my life.
She lifts her head to look at me, smiling so broadly. “Really?”
“Really.”
I can’t help myself.
I lean down and I press my lips to hers.
I kiss her.
It’s soft and strange and she goes completely still and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to do anything else but nothing else in this world has ever felt so nice.
But it’s nice and it’s scary at the same time.
My body is doing strange things. I feel dizzy. Like I’m going to be sick but in a good way.
The sudden trundle of a carriage over the bridge breaks us apart and I’m breathing hard, eyes wide, my lips tingling where hers were pressed against mine.
But Kat doesn’t look surprised at all. She just smiles at me and looks away, picking up another stone from beside her and throwing it into the creek, like nothing happened.
How can that be? My whole world feels like it’s been turned upside down.
I get to my feet, staggering down to the creek and quickly crouch down to splash the cold, clear water on my face to try and feel normal again. My first kiss. I kissed Kat and it feels like nothing will ever be the same again. I won’t be the same again.
I glance at her over my shoulder and she’s sitting there with her skirt neatly around her, a pebble in her hand, staring at me curiously.
“I should go home,” I tell her, my heart beating hard. “My parents said I had to come home straight after school.”
“Why are you lying?” she asks, getting to her feet and shuffling toward me. “Your parents have never said that before.”
“I just have to go, okay?” I tell her, grabbing my books by the book belt and walking out from under the bridge. Down the road toward Sleepy Hollow dust rises from behind the carriage that past moments earlier.
I can’t be here with her right now. I have to go think. I need to be alone.
“Okay,” she says in a soft voice as I walk up the bank to the road. “Did I do something wrong?”
I stop, trying to take a deep breath.
“No, daffodil,” I say to her, glancing at her over my shoulder. “I just have to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow before school.”
“Okay,” she says brightly, her voice as sweet as sugar, as pretty as a flower.
I feel bad leaving her there but she doesn’t live too far from the bridge and I know when I’m not with her, she’s often wandering about the fields by herself, at least that’s what her father jokes about. Katrina constantly communicating with mother nature, calling to the birds. I’ve seen some pretty special things happen around my best friend.
Nothing as special as that kiss though. I run my hand down my face, trying to get some sense back into me. It was like when I kissed her I saw my future with her. And it wasn’t here in Sleepy Hollow, it was somewhere far away and we were happy.
That means she and I are really meant to be with each other.
I better start learning how to act like a man so I can provide for her one day, be a good husband and run a good farm. I have to learn how to be brave and tough, how to protect her from harm.
I think about that the entire walk home, every single thought revolving around Kat, about how I’m going to make sure she’s happy for the rest of her life, how she’ll only need me, until I’m right outside my front door, a wayward chicken running past that I’ll have to deal with later.
I step into the house and am met with silence. My mother and father are both sitting by the fire, my father reading a book and puffing on an awful-smelling pipe, my mother knitting something as always. Neither of say a word, neither of them look toward me.
“I’m home,” I say loudly, putting my books on the table.
They still don’t stir. It’s like I’m a ghost in my own house.
“I said I’m home!” I yell, the anger snapping through me like a mangy dog. I bang my fists, making my books jump.
“Heavens, Abraham,” my father says around his pipe. “We heard you the first time.”
“Try and use your manners, dear,” my mother says to me, looking at me only briefly before going back to her needles.
