One Black Rose Page 6

  Chapter Six

  When I got in I checked on Carley and Nick. They were watching another movie, so I decided to shower and go to bed. I fell asleep with lots of questions about flowers running through my head.

  In the morning Carley and I had our first shift of work at UP UP and Away. I couldn't say I was excited, but since it was cloudy and looked like it might rain, staying inside was probably a good idea.

  Once we got to the coffee shop, Carley ran me through a quick review of everything I needed to know. Mostly I would just be at the cash register (we wouldn't even be working much, said Mrs. Fritters; only a couple of times a week), but I still needed to know where everything was. By early afternoon I had the hang of it enough so that I started ringing people up. Luckily it had been a quiet morning, with most people probably relaxing at home and not wanting to get caught outside for fear it would start pouring.

  I hadn't had much of a chance to talk to Carley yet, but I knew she would ask about all the details of my evening with Holt as soon as she got the chance. For some reason I was dreading it. Carley clearly had a crush on Holt, which was why Nick had been so mad when he got to the house last night, but Holt had chosen to hang out with me. I knew she wouldn't like it.

  Suddenly, during a lull, Carley, who was running the barista station, said, "How do you get two gorgeous guys talking to you within twenty-four hours? While I get stuck with good old friend Nick . . . Not fair. Speaking of which . . ." she said as she looked toward the door Nick was just walking through.

  "Miss me?" he asked.

  "Yeah, but my aim is improving daily," she said, hefting a ceramic mug as if she was a quarterback ready to throw.

  I moved to the cash register. "Hi, Nick, how can I help you?" I asked, grinning at the shocked look on his face.

  "You can get him a helmet," Carley muttered.

  "I love you, too," he said jokingly, putting his hands over his heart.

  Carley called out to Mrs. Fritters, "Can I take my break now?" When she heard Mrs. Fritters agree, she tossed off her apron and went to join Nick on the other side of the counter.

  "She didn't sleep well," I said apologetically. Carley grinned at me. "I was only kidding."

  Nick took his iced coffee and went over to sit with Carley at the same table he'd been at when I'd met him a couple of nights ago. I started to organize stuff behind the counter (Carley had already told me that Mrs. Fritters hated it when we just stood around) when I heard the bell on the door ding softly. Instead of spinning right around I continued to organize the sugars, to give the person a minute to look at the menu.

  "Excuse me?"

  I stuck the last sugar on the shelf and turned around. Leslie Cheshire, the one with long hair, was waiting for me. To my dismay, Samuel was with her. She was wearing a short summer dress, and all I could think was that she must be having a hard time walking in those heels.

  Trying to be friendly, I smiled at Samuel. A look of surprise briefly crossed his face, but then it settled back into his usual scowl. He didn't smile back. Today he was dressed in a black t-shirt and khaki shorts, and his hands were once again resting in his pockets.

  "I heard you worked here," said Leslie, smiling at me. "Nice to know the gossip mill is still going strong."

  Samuel stared hard at the menu.

  "You remember Samuel," said Leslie, not seeming to notice that Samuel was very unhappy that she was talking to me.

  "Hi again," I said politely.

  He merely nodded and went back to memorizing the board.

  "We'd like two iced coffees to go, please," Leslie said to me.

  Turning to Samuel, she asked, "We don't need to rush out of here, do we?"

  Then, turning back to me, she said, "Still, you can put them in to-go cups if that's easier."

  "Fine," Samuel muttered. "Just as long as she doesn't touch it."

  I had no idea what that meant, but Samuel looked uncomfortable. Leslie looked angry.

  "I brought Nick something," Samuel said, waving the white and blue Frisbee he held in his left hand. "So that he never has to borrow one or use the beach's if he wants to play again."

  "Oh, that's nice," I said. "He's over there." I pointed toward Nick, who waved to Samuel and his cousin, motioning for them to join him. Leslie made a noise that I would have said was a groan if it had come from someone who looked less stuck up, but I was sure Leslie would never stoop to groaning in public. Leslie had just been so nice to me that I wondered at her reaction to Nick.

  "Alright, alright," she said to Samuel, "only because . . . you know." As she reached over to pick up her drink I noticed a strange design on the inside of her arm. I say it was a design instead of a tattoo because it was light-colored, almost so faint as not even to be there. It was gone in a flash. After she'd grabbed up her drink she went over to sit with Nick, while Samuel waited for his coffee to be ready.

  I couldn't imagine a more awkward situation. He clearly didn't want to be there, but Leslie had ditched him and I was pretty sure it was intentional, which again left me wondering what was going on.

  As soon as his drink was ready, I quickly tried to hand it to him. He just stared at it until I set it down on the counter, then he picked it up and walked away.

  It might just have been my imagination, but I could have sworn that after he left the area around the counter, the air got warmer. Maybe a draft was coming through one of the windows and the wind had just shifted; it was probably just a coincidence, I decided. Shrugging, I got back to organizing the shelves and ignored my new friends at their table.

  The rest of the morning went on like that. Carley came back from her break and we helped a steady flow of customers. There weren't a lot of places in Castleton to get coffee, so UP UP and Away was pretty popular. Plus, it was right in the center of town.

  It got to the point that when I heard customers come in and I was performing some little chore behind the counter, I finished up what I was doing before I helped them, because otherwise I'd never get everything done.

  I was performing one of these tasks (putting to-go bags under the register), when I heard a customer come in. When I finally turned around, I saw that it was Holt. He was wearing a blue shirt and light khakis, as well as a black bracelet, something that Nick would have been teased for if he had worn it. Somehow, though, it managed to make Holt look even more attractive. It was the first time I had seen him with other people along, two girls, both of whom looked like they were nearer my age than his, maybe even a little younger. One girl's hair was the color of oranges in the sun, and I vaguely wondered if it was natural. The other girl's was a deep blond, kind of like Holt's.

  The three were met with a chorus of hellos from the other customers in UP UP and Away. They greeted everyone back, taking several minutes to actually come to where I was at the register.

  As soon as I saw Holt I realized that in the surprise of having him show up at Carley's house the night before, I'd forgotten to ask how his dog was doing.

  Before he could even open his mouth to say hi I'd blurted out the question. The girl standing next to him gave him a sharp look but said nothing. "He's good," said Holt, as if he hadn't even seen her look.

  "How are you?" he asked.

  "I'm good," I managed to say through my embarrassment.

  "These are two friends of mine. This is Casey," he said, pointing to one of the girls, "and this is Susan." They both had nice firm handshakes and they each gave me a smile. "They're staying at the house." Casey was short with the reddish orange hair, while Susan was very tall and seemed taller because she was wearing heels.

  "Oh, that's awesome," I said, glad that they weren't as rude as Samuel had been.

  Now that I had remembered Samuel, I glanced over at the table he was sharing with Nick. I was shocked to see a cold stare on his face. But he wasn't glaring at me, he was glaring at Holt. I remembered what Nick and Carley had told me about them, that the two families knew each other; maybe there was bad blood. That was s
urely the only way to explain the look that was on Samuel's face right now. Both Samuel and Holt were about the same age, after all. Maybe they'd played each other in sports and were rivals or something. Next to him Leslie sat stone still, with an almost identical look on her face. Yes, there was definitely something between the Roths and the Cheshires, and it looked like I might be in the middle of it, though I had no idea why.

  I could feel the tension, and I was sure Holt could feel it too, but he was simply reading the menu. If he knew there was something wrong he didn't show it. I waited, tapping my pencil.

  "I'll just have a coffee," he said finally, looking at me and smiling.

  "I want that scone," said Casey, pointing to one of the blueberry ones in the case.

  "I'll have a scone too," said Susan.

  Once I'd gotten them their orders, Casey looked at Holt as if she was waiting for instructions, but Holt just sat down at the counter, right next to where I was standing, and started to drink his coffee.

  Both girls looked uneasy. Instead of sitting with Holt they found a table in the far corner, as far away from Samuel and Leslie as possible.

  I felt a little weird. I couldn't figure this guy out. He wouldn't touch me, got nervous when I tried to touch him (or at least I imagined he would), but wanted to hang out with me despite the fact that Samuel and Leslie apparently didn't like it. Well, I didn't care what Samuel liked or didn't like. At all. At least Castleton wasn't as boring as home. This definitely wasn't boring.

  Mrs. Fritters came over and said, "Oh, Holt dear, so nice to see you." She said it but it didn't exactly sound as if she meant it. Holt responded that it was nice to see her as well. "I have to run to the flower shop and pick up more arrangements," she continued, looking at me this time. "I'll be back soon. Hold the fort!" Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw Holt flinch. That was weird, but my attention returned to Mrs. Fritters as she left in a whirl of noise and color.

  "What are you up to for the rest of the day?" Holt asked.

  "I think after work we're just going to head home," I said. "Maybe watch a movie."

  Talking to Holt about movies and stuff was all well and good, but I had a question for him. I had actually decided not to ask him, because I didn't know him very well, but now that he was sitting there chatting with me, maybe I could. Crossing my fingers that he wouldn't take offense I asked, "What's with you and the flowers? Is it kind of like what happened at the airport?"

  I had obviously taken him off guard, because he was taking a sip of coffee when I asked and he almost choked on it.

  "What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

  "You know what I mean. All the flowers around you, like, I don't know . . . get happy when they see you or something," I said. Now that I had said it I could tell how ridiculous it sounded.

  He was giving me the oddest look, but I couldn't interpret it.

  Finally he said, "My family likes to garden. And nothing happened at the airport."

  "Garden?"

  "Yeah, you know, down in the soil. Maybe that's what you mean. Look," he said, cutting me off, "we should go. I'll see you later." And with that he got up. As soon as he stood, Susan and Casey were both at his side, ready to leave. I barely had time to wave before they were out the door. I didn't even care that all the flowers in the place smelled fantastic now. What had I done?

  I glanced at Nick's table. Samuel and Leslie were still sitting there, but neither would look at me. Leslie at least had a good reason not to, because she was sitting there, quietly texting.

  Carley got off work a little before I did, because that night she was going to have dinner with a couple who were friends with her parents. She said she would have invited me, but there was no point in both of us being miserable all evening. Nick was busy at a summer league baseball game, so I was on my own. After Carley left I helped Mrs. Fritters clean up and get ready for the night of music.

  At one point she said the oddest thing: "I hope you don't spend too much time with that Holt boy." But I merely shrugged and she dropped it.

  She let me go around eight. Instead of walking home and having to make the decision about whether or not to cut through Holt's yard, I headed for the little grocery store a few doors down the street.

  Once I had gotten everything on the list Carley and I had made that morning, I headed home. The streets were almost dark, and since the night was cooling off I stopped briefly to put a cardigan on over my white top. I waved to a couple of customers I'd had earlier in the day who were now seated on a street bench, enjoying ice cream from the same place I'd gone to with Holt.

  There were very few cars out, so when I heard a car drive up behind me I didn't even bother to turn around. I knew it wasn't Holt; his car had given off a soft sort of purr, while this one sounded louder. I assumed the car would just pass me and in a breath I'd see taillights. Instead it stayed behind me, while I walked along in the light of its headlights. When I turned around to see what was going on, I had the unsettling realization that the car was following me.

  A chill ran down my spine. My mind instantly went to an image of my being dragged off and kidnapped. The headlights were so bright I couldn't see inside, and it wasn't a car I recognized.

  I walked faster, but the car kept pace. When I turned down my own road the car came to a stop. About to break into a run, I heard my name: "Autumn." It was a simpering female voice I'd heard just that morning: Leslie.

  The difference a day makes was astounding. Just the day before at the beach she had been happy to see me. Even that morning she'd been nice. Now she was trying to run me over. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I'd done.

  I turned around and glared. "What do you think you're doing following me?" I asked. I was tired and I'd had a long day, and a car following me along a deserted road in an unfamiliar town at night was creepy.

  Then I got a good look at her. In the dark of night she looked different, frozen and hollow somehow. The bones in her cheeks protruded more than I remembered them doing and her hair was even blacker. I shrank away a little.

  "Just wanted to have a little chat," she said, stepping completely out of her car. In the dark I couldn't see what type it was, but I could tell that it was black and very nice. I frowned and stood still, wondering what was going on. I felt like since I had come to Maine I had had nothing but questions.

  The passenger door opened and Lydia stepped out. She looked the same as Leslie, somehow more menacing than she had earlier. Both girls were dressed in slinky black dresses and their hair was done up. And I feel like it's hard to look menacing in five inch high heels.

  They came toward me. Samuel's cousins' eyes were sparkling like hard little black diamonds in the night.

  "What do you want?" I asked, trying to hide the fact that I was now very uncomfortable.

  I didn't even know these girls, but they'd been really nice to me until now.

  "Just to have a little chat," Leslie continued in that soft and threatening voice. With every step she took toward me I felt my body getting colder.

  "About what?" I tried to think of what someone brave would do in this situation, but I utterly failed to come up with anything.

  "Do you feel threatened?" Leslie asked, frowning prettily. She tried to act surprised, but she ended up smiling. "I don't mean to scare you." I was like ninety-eight percent sure she was lying about that.

  "Scare me? Why would I be scared?" I asked. Well, if I wasn't actually going to be brave the next best thing was to fake it.

  Leslie, who was shorter and more talkative than Lydia, took another step forward. "You should be. Whether or not you know why. You should be." She was glaring at me so I glared back.

  "This is ridiculous," I said. "Just say what you came to say and leave me alone." I was painfully aware of the fact that I was out alone at night and that no one knew where I was. There was one of me and two of them.

  Neither of them said anything, so I waited. I obvious
ly wasn't going anywhere.

  "Stay away from Holt," said Lydia finally, looking at Leslie. "We came to say: Stay. AWAY. From Holt Roth." She stepped up to me, putting her face right in front of mine. I tried not to flinch away, but it was hard. She was cold and her eyes had gone as hard as crystals. She was frighteningly dangerous, that much was clear, even if nothing else was.

  Before I could think of a word to say I heard the crunching of a foot on dirt, and out of the darkness came Holt's voice, "What do you think you're doing?" He sounded angry. Very angry. I could see that his face was contorted in rage and his eyes never left Lydia and Leslie.

  I would never admit how relieved I was to see him.

  He walked over to the girls, looking like a summer storm cloud about to burst, all black and gray with a promise of thunder and lightening. My traitorous mind added that even his anger couldn't dim how attractive he was.

  "What do you think you're doing meddling in this?" he demanded.

  "It's you," Lydia hissed, "who shouldn't be meddling in this. You should leave well enough alone. You are going to ruin everything. Again. And for what?" She tried to have a staring contest with him, but it was clear she was no match for him. When she broke eye contact Leslie said, "Come on Lydia. We did what we came to do."

  I could see that Holt was breathing hard, and I could tell he was trying to keep his temper and not do something rash.

  But otherwise I had no clue what was going on.

  Once the two girls had driven off in a squeal of tires and dirt, Holt took a deep breath and turned to me. "Are you alright?" he asked. He looked completely panic-stricken. "You look cold." Before I could answer he had shrugged out of his dinner jacket and was putting it around my shoulders.

  "They want me to stay away from you?" I asked, realizing that I was close to yelling. "They can't tell me what to do and neither can you. Shit, my parents can barely tell me what to do since they're too busy fighting!" I knew that I was upset because I was afraid, but having two girls stalk you in a car is scary! Nothing remotely like it had ever happened to me before.

  "Look, I'm sorry about that. My life is . . . complicated," said Holt. His face looked pained.

  "What does that mean? And what does it have to do with all those Cheshires? Samuel doesn't even like me, so what do his cousins care who I hang out with? And why are you all so good looking?" I asked, throwing out that last bit before I had a chance to think about it. I blushed.

  Luckily, he ignored it. "Look, just relax. How about we go back to your place? I can't tell you everything I'd like to, but I promise they won't bother you again," he said, his eyes locked on me, pleading.

  "So, you aren't going to explain to me what the Cheshires were doing telling me not to see you?" I asked. "Would you ever let people tell you what to do?"

  He gave an exasperated sigh. "Some things I can't choose. I'd like to, but I can't. I promise I'd like to tell you, but there are some things I can't control."

  I shook my head. "That's not good enough. Weird stuff happens around you. Like the airport and the flowers and my getting stalked. Well, forget it. I'm going to bed." And with that I turned and walked away from him.

  "Autumn," he called after me. "Autumn, wait."

  I turned around. It was late and I was tired. Earlier that day I had been glad my summer finally wasn't boring, but now I was scared. "Look, we can still hang out. That's fine, but until you're ready to tell me what's going on, don't expect me to just do what I'm told. It's a skill I never mastered."

  And with that I spun on my heel and headed for home.