Miracle

Chapter II.

  Lyra woke early and refreshed on Tuesday morning. Her muscles ached a little from the long hike on Saturday and the paddling she’d done on Sunday. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and took Harry out for a walk. It was still dark and there was a little chill in the air. A few leaves had begun to fall already she noticed. Back in her room, she put on a pair of her new (though fashionably faded and worn) jeans, layered a thin, multi-hued t-shirt over a purple tank, and her sketchers. No need to make a fashion statement on the first day (or any day for that matter) at Placid High, she thought with a grimace. She gathered her hair into a ponytail and brushed on some lip gloss. Good enough, she thought.

  A bowl of cereal and glass of OJ later, and she was out the door. She’d heard her parents just beginning to stir as she left. Since they often worked until six or seven in the evenings, they usually didn’t go into the office until around ten. She backed her Toyota out of the garage and rode the brake down her winding driveway. The streets in downtown Placid were not very busy and she made it to school with twenty minutes to spare. She checked her bag again to make sure she had her pens, pencils, and notebooks, then walked around to the front of the building and entered with the crowd of arriving students. She looked around and didn’t see Aimee anywhere yet. Down the eleventh grade corridor she found a group huddled around two sheets of paper taped to the wall on which homeroom assignments were listed. Lyra tried to look over their heads.

  “Hey, Lyra,” greeted a pretty, blond-haired girl as she turned from the wall and saw her. The blond-haired boy beside her turned too.

  “Hi, Katie. Hi Trevor,” Lyra grinned, glad to see them. Katie and Trevor were twins, her good friends since kindergarten.

  “Hey there gorgeous,” Trevor said as he noticed her.

  Lyra grinned and rolled her eyes.

  “You are looking as beautiful as ever.” He smiled and gave her a one-armed hug. Trevor was also tanned from spending the last couple of months outdoors. He was an avid kayaker and had worked as a guide and instructor over the summer.

  “Yeah, sure. Move over and let me see who I’ve got.”

  “You’re in Hamilton’s room with us. Aimee and Connor are too. Let’s go see if they’re in there yet,” Katie said as she switched her backpack to her other shoulder. Lyra followed them.

  They made their way down the hall to Hamilton’s class. Hamilton coached the hockey team and taught biology. He was a big man with an aggressive personality. They walked in and saw him behind his desk. “Hi, Coach,” Trevor called as they entered. They took seats at the back of the class. Thankfully, they only had homeroom the first day to get their class assignments. Aimee walked in soon after and made a beeline to them. Connor, her boyfriend, followed close behind. Within ten minutes the classroom filled and excited chatter was heard all around. It seemed everyone was excited to be back and discuss what they’d done over the summer.

  Just as the bell was ringing, a boy Lyra had never before seen walked in. He hesitated at the door, looking around for an empty seat. Keeping his head down, he walked to the far side of the classroom to the only vacant desk and folded himself in. This must be her new neighbor.

  Lyra couldn’t get a good look at his face, but the way he kept his head down and his shoulders hunched, she thought he seemed unfriendly, or maybe just unhappy.

  He was tall—at least six-three. His straight, black hair was long and hid his face and eyes. He looked uncomfortable in the too-small desk, on which he kept his eyes glued. Well, thought Lyra with sympathy, it must be hard being new. He wore faded blue jeans, a long-sleeve black turtleneck, and black lace-up boots. He was by no means bulky, but his shirt stretched against well-defined muscles in his chest and shoulders.

  Coach Hamilton called the class to order and started handing out schedules. He went through the C’s without calling out a Carsen. Lyra watched the stranger surreptitiously.

  “Forrester” Hamilton announced. “Jonah Forrester.” The class got unusually quiet and all eyes were on the dark-haired stranger.

  “Here,” the new boy said, holding up his hand. His voice was deep and low. Hamilton walked over to him and handed him the slip of paper. Hamilton paused in front of his desk, evidently taking stock of his height and rugged build. “You’re new.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jonah Forrester replied eyes still lowered.

  “Welcome to Lake Placid.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Hamilton continued to scrutinize him. “Hockey try-outs are Thursday after school at the ice rink. I hope to see you there.”

  Jonah Forrester looked up quickly and then back down, but didn’t say anything.

  In that instant Lyra caught a glimpse of high cheek bones, straight nose, and squared chin. His brows were knit into a frown and his full, red lips were pressed together tightly

  “Oh my gosh. He is so good looking,” Katie, who was sitting behind Lyra, whispered in her ear. “Don’t you think?”

  Lyra hadn’t taken her eyes off of him since he’d walked in. Suddenly, his head snapped up. His gaze flickered to Katie and then settled on her. Lyra’s breath caught and her mouth opened in surprise. His eyes were a vivid blue and he wasn’t good looking; he was beautiful. He could have just stepped off a Calvin Klein billboard—or out of a painting of a Greek god. He stared at her intently. Before she could remember how to work the muscles in her face to smile at him, he’d looked back down. Lyra closed her mouth and felt her cheeks burn. Katie giggled behind her. Lyra was saved from speaking by Coach Hamilton walking down the aisle to deliver her schedule.

  Jonah Forrester was in three of Lyra’s classes—two were advanced placement, so she knew he was smart. In Algebra II and Government, their teachers seated them alphabetically, so she ended up in the desk behind him for those classes. He towered above her so that Lyra had to lean to one side or the other to see the teacher. She never heard him speak another word that day and he didn’t look at her again. He sat at a table by himself at lunch. Lyra noticed Kyle go over and introduce himself. Kyle was captain of the hockey team and Lyra was sure he had the same idea as Coach. She watched as Kyle tried to engage him in conversation, but Jonah must have kept his answers short because Kyle walked back to his table within less than a minute.

  Kyle was a senior this year, so thankfully Lyra didn’t have any classes with him. He always sat at a lunch table with his own classmates and it seemed that would be his habit this year too. She hoped their not sitting together at lunch would extinguish any rumors that they were dating. However, just before the bell rang, Kyle walked by and winked at her. “Hi, Lyra,” he called.

  “Hi,” Lyra mumbled, looking away. She caught Aimee’s ‘I told you so’ smirk. Lyra grimaced and shook her head no, denying the unvoiced remark.

  The brooding new student was discussed at Lyra’s lunch table that day in hushed voices. The girls were all in agreement that he was very hot. The guys suffered through that conversation by speculating about what sports he played—he was obviously athletic. They all wondered where he was from and what brought him to Lake Placid. Aimee volunteered to the group that he and Lyra were neighbors and that he was evidently orphaned because he lived with his uncle. Lyra wished she hadn’t shared that knowledge with Aimee. She didn’t want to be guilty passing on third-hand, and possibly incorrect, information about him.

  The first day of school ended and Lyra had to admit, it was much more interesting than she had expected. She spotted Jonah Forrester getting into an older model black Audi in the students’ parking lot. Well, he won’t be asking for a ride to school after all, she thought with a twinge of disappointment. Then she laughed at herself when she recalled her earlier anxiety and sour attitude about him needing a ride.

  She thought about him all the way to Mr. Masters’ house and even during practice she couldn’t put him completely out of her mind. She played so poorly the technical etudes she??
?d been assigned the week before that Mr. Masters’ asked if she was sight-reading them.

  When Lyra got home, she and Harry went out for a run. Harry was delighted with her faster-than-normal pace. She went up the hill and past her new neighbor’s house, but kept her eyes firmly on the road. After returning home and showering, she pulled out her cello and attacked with savage concentration the etudes she’d played so horribly at Masters’.

  When Harry’s barks announced her parents’ arrival, she went downstairs to greet them. Her mom had brought her home a cobb salad tonight. Over dinner, they asked about her first day back to school. She told them her course schedule, who her teachers were, and which classes she had with Aimee (English and History) and Katie (Algebra and Art).

  Her father still looked at her expectantly. “So,” he finally asked, “did you see the Carsen boy today?”

  “Yeah. He’s a junior too and in a couple of my classes. His name’s not Carsen, though it’s Jonah Forrester.”

  “Did you speak to him, dear?” her mother asked. “Does he seem nice?”

  Lyra dropped her fork. For some reason, just thinking about his intense, too-blue eyes, set butterflies dancing in her stomach. “No. I didn’t speak to him. But, he seemed nice,” Lyra replied, not sure what to reveal about the stranger. “He looked…um…uncomfortable, you know? Being the new kid and all, I guess.”

  “Well, honey, you should introduce yourself tomorrow. Make him feel welcome. I’m sure he’s feeling very out of place right now,” her mother admonished. Her father nodded his assent.

  “Yeah, I will,” Lyra agreed, feeling ashamed now because she hadn’t done so that day.