âWell, go to their cabin alone.â
âYou arenât very polite,â she hums.
âReally?â I roll my eyes even though she canât see my face. âIâve been told civility is one of my strongest attributes.â
âSomeone lied to you,â she says and giggles behind me.
I kick at a rock, for once glad for Tessaâs cleanliness, since if she hadnât made me take my shoes off at the door of the cabin, Iâd be stuck wearing Landonâs sneakers. Not a good look. Plus, Iâm almost certain his feet are much smaller than mine.
âSo where are you from?â she asks.
I ignore her and continue on my trek. I think Iâm supposed to turn left at the next stop sign. I sure as hell hope so.
âEngland?â
âYup,â I say. Then figure I might as well ask. âWhich way?â
I turn and see her point to the right. Of course, I was wrong.
Her eyes are an icy blue, and her skirt drags across the gravel below her feet. She reminds me of Tessa . . . well, the Tessa I was first introduced to. My Tessa no longer wears hideous things like that. She has also learned a new vocabulary; all credit for that goes to me for making her cuss my ass out on a wide range of occasions.
âAre you here with your parents, too?â Her voice is low, sweet even.
âNo . . . Well, sort of.â
âThey are sort of your parents?â She smiles; her use of âthey areâ instead of the contraction âtheyâreâ reminds me of Tess, too.
I look over to the girl again to make sure sheâs actually there and this isnât some freaky Christmas Carolâtype shit where sheâs an apparition that has come to teach me some sort of lesson.
âTheyâre my family, and my girlfriend. I have a girlfriend, by the way,â I warn her. I donât see this girl being interested in someone like me, but then again I once thought the same about Tessa.
âOkay . . .â she says,
âOkay.â I pick up my pace, wanting to create some space between us. I turn right, and she does, too. Both of us move onto the grass as a truck passes us by, and she catches up again.
âWhere is she, then? Your girlfriend?â she asks.
âSleeping.â It makes sense to use the same lie I told my father and Karen.
âHmm . . .â
âHmm, what?â I look at her.
âNothing.â She stares forward.
âYouâve already followed me halfway back. If you have something to say, then say it,â I say irritably.
She twists something in her hands, looking down. âI was just thinking that you seem like youâre trying to escape from something or hide . . . I donât know, never mind.â
âIâm not hiding; she told me to get the fuck out, so I did.â What the hell does this wannabe Tessa know anyway?
She looks up at me. âWhy did she kick you out?â
âAre you always this nosy?â
She smiles. âYeah, I am,â she says with a nod.
âI hate nosy people.â
Except Tessa, of course. No matter how much I love her, sometimes I want to tape her mouth shut following one of her interrogations. Sheâs literally the most intrusive human being Iâve ever met.
Iâm lying, really. I love her pestering behavior; I used to hate it, but I get it now. I want to know all about her, too . . . what sheâs thinking, what sheâs doing, what she wants. I realize, to my fucking horror, that I ask more questions now than she does.
âSo, are you going to tell me?â the girl presses.
âWhatâs your name?â I ask her, avoiding her question.
âLillian,â she says and drops whatever was in her hand.
âIâm Hardin.â
She tucks her hair behind her ear. âTell me about your girlfriend.â
âWhy?â
âIt seems like youâre upset, and who better to talk to than a stranger?â
I donât want to talk to her; sheâs eerily similar to Tessa, and itâs making me uneasy. âI donât think itâs a good idea.â
The sun has disappeared early here, and the sky is nearly black.
âAnd keeping it in is?â she asks sensibly. Too sensibly.
âLook, you seem . . . nice and all, but I donât know you and you donât know me, so this conversation isnât going to happen.â
She frowns. Then sighs. âFine.â
Finally, I can see the familiar sloped roof of my fatherâs cabin in the distance. âWell, this is me,â I say by way of dismissing myself.
âReally? Wait . . . your dad is Ken, isnât he?â She slaps her small hand against her forehead.
âYeah?â I say, surprised.
We both stop walking at the end of the driveway. âIâm an idiot, of course! With the accents, how did I not think of it earlier.â She laughs.
âI donât get it.â I look down at her.
âYour dad and my dad are friends, they went to college together or something. I just spent the last hour listening to them tell stories of their glory days.â
âOh, thatâs ironic.â I half smile. I donât feel as uncomfortable around the girl as I did a few minutes ago.
She smiles brightly. âSo really we arenât strangers after all.â
Chapter thirty
TESSA
Cookies,â Landon and I answer in unison.
âCookies it is, then.â Karen smiles and opens the cabinet.
Karen never stops, sheâs always baking, roasting, toasting. Not that Iâm complaining; her cooking is incredible.