Jem,” he tells me. “You’re so serious. You’ll get old before your time.”
Too late.
*
I arrive to pick Elise up half an hour before the end of the dance and send a text to let her know I’m here. She doesn’t answer, and I fidget impatiently. She’d better not make me late to meet Willa. Elise stays until the last possible second and then skips out to the car, sweaty and smiling. I drop her off at home and then head back into town to go to Willa’s house. By the time I get there she’s already in her car, waiting for me. We exchange waves and then I follow her out of the neighborhood.
It’s about a forty-minute drive to Joe Moore’s house, adding the time spent on a detour. Willa heads toward Port Elmsley first and stops to pick up three teenage boys at a little white house nestled against the woods. I wonder if one of them is Luke.
It’s eleven-thirty by the time we get to Moores’ house. A few people are already there, sitting around the woodstove in the enclosed porch. Elwood waves to Willa through the wide porch window before either of us is even parked.
“Wait up.” Willa explains me to her friends as I make my way over. She introduces us—this is the mysterious Luke; he does exist—and we head inside. A few of the kids from Willa’s lunch table are already here. I recognize Paige Holbrook, Hannah Whatever, and who could forget Chris shit-for-brains Elwood? The rest I know by face but not by name. A boy with thick glasses whose name escapes me has brought a guitar. Bowls of chips are being passed around, and a few people are roasting marshmallows next to the wood stove. Willa, in typical weirdo fashion, has brought healthy food. She’s got fruit, veggie sticks and hot cocoa in her backpack. Then she pulls out a second thermos and hands it to me with a spoon.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. Last time she cooked something for me, I didn’t eat anything else for three days. I open the thermos and steam rises up to meet me. This stuff smells good. It isn’t the carrot and pea soup, but I do detect a hint of ginger in the aroma.
“What’s in it?”
“Nothing you can’t eat.”
Good Lord, it’s good. It’s some sort of puree of broccoli and honey and a dozen other things I can’t identify. I thank her between bites and she responds by slipping a folded piece of paper into my jacket pocket. I bet that’s the recipe.
It’s kind of nice being here, even though I don’t know half the people. It’s like being part of a group of friends again. Most of them don’t look at me, as usual, because my appearance makes them uncomfortable. The only people who look at me and talk to me are Willa and her friend Luke, who doesn’t seem to find anything out of the ordinary with my appearance. For the first time in a long time, I’m having fun.
Everyone is hungry after the dance, so the first part of the evening is spent snacking and roasting marshmallows. Paige Holbrook starts a game of Never-Have-I-Ever, and when that gets old What’s-his-nuts brings out the guitar. He’s not bad with that thing, but I still can’t help wanting him to stop playing—the impromptu sing along has given Luke an excuse to cozy up to Willa’s side and put a hand on her knee. She doesn’t seem to mind. What is he, sixteen?
It isn’t until well after midnight that the group concedes that the temperature has dropped too low to keep sitting on the enclosed porch, and we move inside. Paige suggests getting another group activity together soon. She proposes ice-skating and manages to get almost everyone on board.
Willa turns to me. “Care to join in, Harper?”
I shrug. “I might not feel up to it.” There are a lot of things to consider, like what time of day they’ll be going and how that will affect my stomach and energy level.
“You could meet us at the rink if we decide to go out after.” She’s trying, which is more than most people do for me, so I offer her a
Too late.
*
I arrive to pick Elise up half an hour before the end of the dance and send a text to let her know I’m here. She doesn’t answer, and I fidget impatiently. She’d better not make me late to meet Willa. Elise stays until the last possible second and then skips out to the car, sweaty and smiling. I drop her off at home and then head back into town to go to Willa’s house. By the time I get there she’s already in her car, waiting for me. We exchange waves and then I follow her out of the neighborhood.
It’s about a forty-minute drive to Joe Moore’s house, adding the time spent on a detour. Willa heads toward Port Elmsley first and stops to pick up three teenage boys at a little white house nestled against the woods. I wonder if one of them is Luke.
It’s eleven-thirty by the time we get to Moores’ house. A few people are already there, sitting around the woodstove in the enclosed porch. Elwood waves to Willa through the wide porch window before either of us is even parked.
“Wait up.” Willa explains me to her friends as I make my way over. She introduces us—this is the mysterious Luke; he does exist—and we head inside. A few of the kids from Willa’s lunch table are already here. I recognize Paige Holbrook, Hannah Whatever, and who could forget Chris shit-for-brains Elwood? The rest I know by face but not by name. A boy with thick glasses whose name escapes me has brought a guitar. Bowls of chips are being passed around, and a few people are roasting marshmallows next to the wood stove. Willa, in typical weirdo fashion, has brought healthy food. She’s got fruit, veggie sticks and hot cocoa in her backpack. Then she pulls out a second thermos and hands it to me with a spoon.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. Last time she cooked something for me, I didn’t eat anything else for three days. I open the thermos and steam rises up to meet me. This stuff smells good. It isn’t the carrot and pea soup, but I do detect a hint of ginger in the aroma.
“What’s in it?”
“Nothing you can’t eat.”
Good Lord, it’s good. It’s some sort of puree of broccoli and honey and a dozen other things I can’t identify. I thank her between bites and she responds by slipping a folded piece of paper into my jacket pocket. I bet that’s the recipe.
It’s kind of nice being here, even though I don’t know half the people. It’s like being part of a group of friends again. Most of them don’t look at me, as usual, because my appearance makes them uncomfortable. The only people who look at me and talk to me are Willa and her friend Luke, who doesn’t seem to find anything out of the ordinary with my appearance. For the first time in a long time, I’m having fun.
Everyone is hungry after the dance, so the first part of the evening is spent snacking and roasting marshmallows. Paige Holbrook starts a game of Never-Have-I-Ever, and when that gets old What’s-his-nuts brings out the guitar. He’s not bad with that thing, but I still can’t help wanting him to stop playing—the impromptu sing along has given Luke an excuse to cozy up to Willa’s side and put a hand on her knee. She doesn’t seem to mind. What is he, sixteen?
It isn’t until well after midnight that the group concedes that the temperature has dropped too low to keep sitting on the enclosed porch, and we move inside. Paige suggests getting another group activity together soon. She proposes ice-skating and manages to get almost everyone on board.
Willa turns to me. “Care to join in, Harper?”
I shrug. “I might not feel up to it.” There are a lot of things to consider, like what time of day they’ll be going and how that will affect my stomach and energy level.
“You could meet us at the rink if we decide to go out after.” She’s trying, which is more than most people do for me, so I offer her a
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