There was a strong chance Brandon wouldn’t show. Not only might it be that he’d gone out of town for the holiday, but if he’d remained in Legend’s Run, what did he have to gain by attending? He didn’t socialize with any of us or anyone who was coming to the party. He might have thought it was a trick or a potential hazing.
Ivy and I arrived at the party to find Abby already there with Dylan. Jake was talking to several jocks, and Nash was nowhere to be found.
When we headed into the kitchen, I found Nash by the refrigerator. Instead of greeting me with a passionate kiss—which I would have been uncomfortable with anyway—he seemed almost put off by my presence.
“You want me to pour your drinks?” He sighed. “I’m not used to being someone’s servant, you know. I thought I did my job when I apologized to that guy. Anyway, I haven’t seen him, and I’m crossing my fingers he doesn’t show.”
“Well, I think pouring me a soda would be a nice gesture,” I said, not because I wanted him to be a servant, but because it was the gentlemanly thing to do. “But I can pour my own drink,” I finally said.
“Forget it—” Nash said. “I’m not being a good host. What would you ladies like?”
I knew there was a good guy inside of Nash, but sometimes it took a lot of prodding to find him.
I hoped Brandon would arrive at any moment. There was a chance we could all get to know one another and make him feel more comfortable at our school. I knew that our being one big happy clique was near to impossible, but it was my nature to dream.
An hour passed and Brandon still hadn’t shown.
“You seem distracted,” Ivy said. “This party was your idea. You should be having the most fun.”
“I got the best part of the dare,” Nash said, chuckling. “Shame that Westsider didn’t show. I’m sure we would have been great friends.”
Nash headed for the stairs. I didn’t even follow him. Instead I sat on the couch and vacantly watched whatever was playing on the TV. The clock ticked on and Nash didn’t return. I’d finished my soda hours ago, so I decided to get a bottle of water. I was headed back to the kitchen when I spotted Brandon in the corner of the parlor.
He looked magnetic—more stunning than any other guy there. It wasn’t hard for him to look gorgeous—for Brandon it came naturally. It was clear he could have any girl at the party, if one so much as saw beyond his Westsider status. But it didn’t seem likely that any of these girls would look past their turned-up noses, and for this, I was almost grateful. He would have been fawned all over by every cheerleader and become just like any other guy on the football or basketball team, possibly just like the one who had invited me—who was supposed to be my boyfriend and wasn’t paying me any attention.
Brandon was sitting with Hayley Phillips and a few other skaters whom he must have brought with him. Hayley was talking to her friends, but Brandon wasn’t listening to their conversation. I didn’t think they were dating—I hoped they weren’t. Brandon wasn’t really talking to them but rather he appeared like he was observing the crowd, as if he was looking for someone. He didn’t notice me watching him.
“We should talk to them,” I said when Ivy reached my side.
“Why?” Ivy asked.
“Because they were invited to the party.”
“I know it’s your nature to be nice to everyone. But really, we don’t know them. They seem to be really happy hanging out together. And besides, it’s Nash’s party, not ours. He’s the one who should talk to them.”
Then it hit me—what if Brandon did mention our time in the woods? My friends would be very curious why I hadn’t mentioned that he was the one who saved me. Maybe I didn’t want my friends talking to them—I wasn’t sure they would understand why I hadn’t told them myself, and I didn’t want there to be trouble between Brandon and Nash.
On the other hand, Nash needed to welcome his new guests, just as Ivy said. I scoured the house for him. I went upstairs to find his bedroom door closed. Afraid of what—or who—I might find with him on the other side, I knocked. When no one answered, I opened it. The room was empty. I was relieved.
I finally found Nash downstairs in the media room. He was hanging out on the couch, yucking it up for some of his teammates. Heidi Rosen’s legs were draped over his lap.
Brandon wasn’t the only one Nash wasn’t paying attention to.
Nash saw me standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, Celeste—” he called.
I turned around and left. When I reached the top of the stairs, I bumped into Brandon. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to leave. My so-called boyfriend had disappointed me. I didn’t want anyone, much less Brandon, to witness it.
I just wanted to go. I found Ivy and told her what I’d seen. “The thing is, Ivy. I’m not sure that I care,” I finally admitted.
“Then you should stay,” she encouraged.
“I mean about Nash.”
Nash found me as I headed to the front door with my purse and keys in hand.
He tried to stop me.
“Celeste—” Nash said, “where are you going?”
“Out for some fresh air,” I said.
“You misinterpreted what you saw,” he said. “She was hanging on me, not the other way around.”
“Whatever. I don’t care. And besides, that’s not the issue, Nash. You missed the whole point of this party,” I said to him. “It was about our friends. It was about meeting other people. It definitely wasn’t supposed to be about Heidi Rosen.”
Fortunately the partygoers were focused on their own conversations—except for one person. Brandon was hanging by the foyer and overheard everything.
“Celeste, don’t go,” Ivy said, running up to us at the door. I pushed past Nash.
I was briskly marching to my car when I sensed someone behind me.
“I’m not staying, Nash,” I said.
It wasn’t Nash trailing me. It was Brandon.
He stood by my car, the moonlight shining on his face. He was so alluring, my heart raced and I was breathless. It was one thing to see Brandon from across the classroom or hallway, before he saved my life. But since I’d spent so many hours obsessing about him and imagining him kissing me, I was suddenly embarrassed being in his company—as if he knew the romantic thoughts I’d been thinking.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked.
“Uh . . . yes. I just . . .”
Now I felt torn. I was the one who put Nash up to inviting Brandon. Nash was ignoring him and now I was leaving.
“Funny. You were the reason I came,” he said as if the words had slipped from his lips.
I didn’t know what to say. I felt so flattered, awkward, and nervous. I knew I should say something witty back, but all my words escaped me.
I saw Nash looming by the front door.
“I better go,” I said. As I got into my car, Nash went back inside.
Brandon watched me as I put the gear into reverse.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I was pulled in two directions. I might have been leaving Nash, but I didn’t want to leave Brandon.
I turned off the ignition and got out of the car.
“Did you forget something?” Brandon asked.
“I never properly thanked you,” I said.
The moon twinkled above and the stars shined brightly. If I were the star of a Hollywood movie, I would have thrown myself into his arms and we would have shared a steamy kiss. But my life was far from a movie. I didn’t move, and neither did Brandon.
“Celeste!” Ivy called. She and Abby were running toward me.
Brandon retreated into the darkened shadows of the front yard.
“I thought you already left,” Ivy said. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.”
“I just forgot something,” I said.
“What did you forget?” Abby wondered.
“To thank someone who saved my life.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said.
“That’s okay.”
I sighed. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Please don’t leave,” Ivy begged. “Nash was just being foolish. He’s in there sulking. You left him in front of everyone.”
I smiled. Normally I didn’t seek revenge, but Nash deserved a time-out. He wasn’t doting like Jake and Dylan, or chivalrous like Brandon. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him and remind myself of his behavior.
“Next time I have servants for a day,” I said to Ivy, “I won’t waste it on him.”
Chapter Twelve
Skating Partner
That night all I thought about was Brandon. I wondered what would have happened if Ivy hadn’t interrupted us. Would I have gotten to talk to him more? I didn’t know anything about him. Why did he move to Legend’s Run? Did he really live with his grandparents? And most important, now that I was apart from Nash, would he ever kiss me?
I imagined what that moment would have been like gazing up at him as the stars glimmered behind him. I’d ask about his wound and he’d assure me it was nothing, all the while knowing that he was hiding his pain from me. And while no one was watching, he’d lean into me and kiss me so intensely I’d feel dizzy.
* * *
It was time to officially thank Brandon. I’d been putting it off perhaps for the wrong reasons—Nash, school, or just being shy. Brandon hadn’t hesitated to save me, and I needed to move beyond any more hesitating in thanking him.
I didn’t know much about Brandon, but I knew he liked Jeeps and the WWF.
The next day, I scanned the internet for images of pro wrestlers. When I found one I thought was beefy enough, I printed it out and glued it to card stock. I folded the card and wrote inside, Thanks for wrestling the wolves. You are a true hero.
I struggled with how to sign it. Sincerely? Best? Love? XOXO?
Just to be safe, I simply wrote Celeste. Before I put it in the envelope, I sprayed it with sweet perfume and stuck it into my purse.
I ran downstairs to check on the brownies I had baking in the oven. I took the hot dessert out and was sprinkling powdered sugar over it when Juliette and my mom entered the kitchen. It was cool to have my sister home for a few days, even if was just because my mom glowed having her two girls under her roof again.
“Why are you baking more desserts when we have pecan and pumpkin pies coming out of our ears?” Juliette said.
“Those smell delicious,” my mom said.
“Why are you doing that to me?” Juliette complained. “You know I’m on a diet.”
“You are always on a diet,” I said to my stick-thin sister.
“Well, I have a date,” she said, hugging my mom. “See you later.”
“In the middle of the day?” I charged.
“The university is having a fund-raiser. And I’m helping Dan out.”
“Who’s Dan?” I asked.
“I can’t keep them straight either,” my mom said as Juliette flew out the back door.
“Are you taking those to the nursing home?” she asked. “Are they for Mr. Worthington? You might want to get it approved first. I think the residents there are on a strict diet.”
“In that case, it sounds like Juliette is years ahead of her time,” I said, and followed my sister out the door.
“So much for having my girls home,” I heard my mom say as the door closed.
I wasn’t sure where Brandon lived, but I did know someone who might. Even though it was winter, snowflakes and cold temperatures didn’t keep the die-hard skaters from their outdoor skate.
I pulled into the lot and headed over to the ramps. Piles of snow lined the fences, but the ramps and rails were clear. Several skaters were flying down the half-pipe as if they were performing for a competition.
Hayley Phillips appeared as surprised to see me arrive as one could imagine.
“I didn’t know you skated,” she said. A few of the other skaters gathered around her.
I was only partially intimidated.
But it did look like fun. The skaters appeared as if nothing in the world mattered to them as each one sped down the ramps or did one-eighties at the top of them.
“Can you tell me where Brandon Maddox lives?” I asked. “It’s around here somewhere and I figured you might know.”
“Because we live in Riverside, you mean? We must all eat together and breed together?”
“No. Because I’ve seen you talking to him,” I said in a nonconfrontational tone. “That’s all.”
“I didn’t think your type would be seen in our parts,” she said.
“I don’t have a type.”
“What’s this about?”
“Something for school. Can you help me?” I asked sincerely.
Hayley popped her skateboard with her back foot and caught it with one hand.
“That was cool,” I said.
Hayley wasn’t softening or coughing up any information.
“Well, if you aren’t all alike, then why would you think we are, too?” I asked. “I guess you might not be so different from the snobs you think I hang out with.”
I began to leave.
“She was the one who had Nash invite Brandon to his party,” I heard one of the other skaters say. “She’s the one who stuck up for him.”
“Hey—” Hayley called.
I heard the sound of a skateboard rolling up behind me.
“Follow this road to the stop sign,” Hayley said. “Turn left. It’s the third house on the right. It has a private drive.”
I drove through Riverside and along a curvy side street. The homes were spread apart farther than on my street, with room for a few houses in between. When I saw a sign marked PRIVATE DRIVE, I knew it had to be Brandon’s. Nervously, I turned into it. The tree-lined road was narrow and bumpy and passed a frozen pond. The front yard was several acres long. The modest-looking house appeared historic—likely built when the town was founded, but recently restored. The white paint glistened against the black shutters. Patches of gray shingles poked through the snow-covered roof. A six-foot metal windmill gently spun with the chilly wind. Several wooden snowmen welcomed guests. A white railing enclosed the front porch, and a wooden swing made it seem cozy. I was hoping to leave the package on the front porch and disappear before I was spotted.
I didn’t plan on their dog. It barked so loudly from inside the house I thought it would alert all of Legend’s Run. At first I thought it was a wolf snapping at me from the front window, but as I approached the door, I realized it was a husky.
I gingerly placed the package and card on the porch. I didn’t dare knock, ring the bell, or holler. All I wanted to do was show my appreciation and run.
I tiptoed down the wooden steps. I snuck a look behind the house. There was land for miles. Between the front yard and the back, Brandon’s family must have owned all of Riverside. There was a huge backyard leading to a tree-filled hilltop, bird feeders of every type, a small guesthouse, and Brandon’s parked Jeep.
It was then I saw the sticker more closely. WWF—World Wildlife Fund—not World Wrestling Federation! Now I was truly embarrassed. Brandon liked animals in the wild, not the ones in the ring. What was I thinking?
The screen door squeaked opened. Brandon was trying to calm down his dog. I pretended not to notice and continued walking to my car when I heard the screen door close.
“Hey . . . Celeste?” Brandon called.
I did my best to pretend not to hear.
“Celeste!” he called again.
I had no choice but to turn around. It would have been rude not to.
Brandon caught up to me. He was handsome in his chestnut-colored thermal shirt and jeans. It appeared as if he’d been working in the house.
He held the tray of brownies in his hand. “What’s this for?”
“I just wanted to officially thank you—for that day in the woods. But it’s nothing really . . . just a small token.”
“No—this is great.” Brandon seemed so pleased with my gesture. “Thank you. Would you like to come
in and have one?”
I wondered how many students Brandon had invited into his house since he’d arrived in Legend’s Run. Were his grandparents home? Perhaps I was the first and only one to visit him. His house seemed so different from mine—with so much more character and charm. I was sure it was highly decorated on the inside, and I was more than curious to see how he lived. However, I wanted to exit the enormous property before Brandon saw my silly wrestling card.
“Thank you anyway. I really have to go.”
“Always leaving me,” he teased.
I couldn’t help but break a smile. “I should be getting back home,” I told him.
“You can at least wait until I open the card.”
“That’s okay—”
Before I could retreat, he was trying to slit the top of the envelope but was struggling with his wounded hand.
I took the envelope, opened it, and handed it back to him.
“Thanks,” he said. His gaze lingered a bit on my face, then he read the card.
“Wow—this is so nice. You made it?”
I nodded, embarrassed.
“I don’t think anyone has ever made me a card before. Thank you!”
I pointed to the bumper sticker on his car. “I thought it was for World Wrestling Federation,” I confessed.
He laughed and then I did, too. There was something special about Brandon. His eyes were seductive.
There was a silence, and then I said, “Did you see a doctor?”
“Yes. I had to get stitches.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“No—don’t be sorry. That’s not why I told you.”
“I’ll have to bake you more brownies now.” We both laughed again.
“It’s fine. Really,” he said.
“That must have hurt.”
“Nah,” he said. “I’m a big boy.”
“I’m sorry about Nash—that he gives you a hard time.”