CHAPTER 10 #2
He didn’t speak, only tightened his grip on me. With a low, strained grunt, he hauled me upward, muscles coiled tight, his whole body a lever pulling mine back from the brink.
I crashed into him, gasping, my heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else as I blinked up at him, staring in wide-eyed shock.
“Note to self,” he muttered, “add a railing. Are you okay?”
My knees wobbled. “Yes, I—I think so.”
“Soil near a cliff edge is loose. I shouldn’t have let you get so close.”
He looked at me with…was that concern in his eye?
I was in a stupefied trance, too dazed to respond properly. “Gods, I can’t believe that…I can’t believe I almost…” My voice came out flat and robotic, my mind still suspended over the cliff.
Jonathan didn’t let go. Instead, he stayed, steadying me more than he would ever know with his strong presence. Gently, his fingers found mine and he clasped my hands like he was grounding me. “Let’s move away from here,” he said before carefully guiding me to the center of the bluff.
There he crouched and opened his backpack. He laid down a large dark blanket, then dropped down onto it, flattening out the corners.
I blinked at him, still trying to play catch-up with reality when my mind was still in limbo. “You…you brought a blanket.”
“Guess you didn’t bring everything.” He was crouching on the blanket, peering up at me carefully, his eyes shrouded with worry. “Come here. Sit down. Get centered.”
I lowered myself, slow, still recovering. “Are you making fun of my emergency kit again?” I tried to joke. “I was being practical.”
“Says the woman who almost launched herself off a cliff.”
I let out a shaky laugh, spreading my hands on the softness of the blanket. It smelled like laundry detergent, the kind they used at the Hollow.
He mused, “Would have gotten you a nice headstone though. Here lies Blanchette, a willing sprite. In the end her flight failed, tried as she might.”
“That’s not funny,” I said.
He blinked, raising a brow. “It’s not?”
I blinked.
Then I burst out laughing. Sharp, loud, and completely unexpected.
Even I was surprised by the sound of it. And once I started, I found I couldn’t stop.
“Oh, my gods,” I gasped between laughs. “That is so stupid, it might actually be funny.”
Jonathan dryly added, “It’s the delivery.”
“No! It’s the fact that you said it.” I shook my head, giggling. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you make a joke…and of course it involves my untimely death.”
He shrugged, apologetic. “Yeah, sorry. Death isn’t funny.”
That just made it worse.
I tried to smother the next laugh, but it escaped, like air let out of a balloon. And within seconds we were both laughing. Not polite chuckles but deep, hysterical laughter that we couldn’t stop.
We tried to quiet down…but every time our eyes met, it only made it worse.
Eventually it faded…and I felt so much better.
“Thanks,” I said after a while, wiping the last of the tears from my eyes. “I think I needed that.”
Jonathan sat, his arms circling around his drawn up knees. “I think I did too,” he replied.
The brief stretch of silence was oddly comfortable.
For a while, we just sat. I leaned further back on my hands and looked up.
The air up here felt different. The last of the sunset had faded, and with it, the world had expanded.
The sky above us was like a velvet cloak, heavy and dusted with diamonds.
It was startling, how clear the stars were. Not faint or buried behind smog like in Graymore…but sharp, vivid. They burned. They shimmered with sharp, ancient clarity.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe without asking for permission. And that was sad, wasn’t it? I hadn’t realized how caged I’d felt all the time until I’d been released from it.
I realized something else too.
“Hmm, my allergies,” I said softly to myself. “I thought they’d be worse out here, but…they’re gone.”
I tilted my head back, eyes tracing the sky. “It’s so clear, you can see everything. Not like in the city.”
“Nothing gets through that light pollution,” Jonathan commented. “Cities blind themselves trying to outshine what’s already up there. Most don’t know what they’re missing. Most have never seen anything like this, which is a shame.”
I glanced at him, watching the faint starlight catch the edge of his sharp profile.
“Didn’t grow up with much. But I had a telescope.
Learned most of the constellations on my own.
” He tilted his head back, slowly tracing invisible lines with his sweeping gaze.
“Our planet sits way out on a spiral arm of the galaxy, and at its very center is a massive black hole. In our corner of space alone, there are billions of stars and countless planetary systems.”
I tilted my head, listening to him speak. There was a string of awe in his voice, one I was fascinated by.
“And that’s just one galaxy,” he said, shaking his head. “There are billions more. Trillions, even. As far as we know.”
I sat quietly for a moment, trying to grasp a number that large. An untold number of worlds. It was mind-boggling.
“I like that about you,” I commented softly.
Jonathan glanced over, brow lifting.
“Most people who throw around stats make it boring,” I said with a small smile. “You make it feel…I don’t know…inspiring.”
I looked back up at the stars.
Jonathan was quiet for a long moment before he said, “Not everyone thinks that when I talk this way.”
“Well, I can tell you’re really fascinated by this.” I gestured before me, at the brightness of the stars.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ve lugged that telescope up here more times than I could count. It was one of my favorite things to do. I’d spend the whole night under these stars.”
I smiled, taking in a deep breath. I felt a twinge of pain, but…
for the first time, I allowed myself to remember.
“I did the same with my grandmother. Well, we didn’t have a view like this.
But we’d lie out in her garden during the summer sometimes.
She’d make fruit tarts and I’d count the fireflies.
One year, I remember there was a big meteor shower.
Everyone was talking about it—it was all over the news.
And I’d never seen anything like it. We stayed out in the garden for hours until it was over. ”
“I remember that night,” he said softly. “Fifteen years ago, yeah? I was up here. Right here.”
I shot him a look, and I felt a strange blooming sensation seep through my chest. “How come I never saw you in Everwick growing up? You’re not that much older than me. The town was small back then.”
His gaze slid away. “My father…he liked his privacy. We kept to ourselves.”
“Hmm” was my only hint of reply. I recognized when someone didn’t want to talk about something, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“Well, anyway, that’s a nice thought, then, isn’t it?
That we were watching the meteor shower at the same time.
That I was just down there,” I said, gesturing toward the town. “And you were here all along.”
His blue eyes caught mine, and I found that that gaze had the annoying habit of stealing my breath. “Yeah, life is funny like that” was all he said in reply.
We fell into another brief silence, and I had to look away in fear he’d catch me blushing again. I cleared my throat, looking out toward the sea. One of the most familiar sights to me in all of Everwick.
A few moments later, he broke the silence by saying, “Sorry, by the way, for all of the construction around the Hollow. I know it’s no five-star resort, but I’m trying really hard to make this place special.”
I looked around…the open sky, the cliffs, the sea, the lighthouse light sweeping in the distance.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, smiling. “Who needs five stars when you’ve got five million? This place is magical, Jonathan. I hope you know that. I really think it will be special once you’re finished.”
I caught the flicker of pride in his face. He shifted beside me, gaze steady on the horizon. “We call this place Cryer’s Point,” he told me. “It got that name because wolves would gather here at night and call out at the moon.”
I looked around, suddenly more aware of the wide, open air and how the forest curved around the bluff like a quiet audience. “Do they still?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Depends on the season.”
“Do people come up this far to Juniper Woods? Hikers or backpackers? It’s private land though, isn’t it?”
“It is. Sometimes we’ll get hikers or teenagers being stupid, but most folks from Everwick stay away. It’s too wild for them.”
I glanced sideways. I couldn’t help but smile. “But not for you.”
“I grew up here,” he defended, tossing me an amused look. “Knew these trees before I even knew people. The cabins, the lake, the mine…all of it. This land’s been in my family a long time. I’m just…trying to make it into something worth staying for.”
I studied his face as he spoke. There was weariness there, like he’d been carrying something heavy for a long time. But I didn’t spy defeat.
“Sounds like a nice childhood,” I said softly. “To be surrounded by all this nature.”
He barked a quiet laugh. “Oh, no. I hated this place. Did everything I could to get away. I told my old man I didn’t want it, would never inherit it. Told him to donate it. Let the state have it. Burn it for all I cared.” He paused. “It felt like if I took it…it would take me.”
My brow furrowed. I heard something that I recognized in his voice. The same thing that had driven me from this place. The fear of getting trapped. Like your life would be decided for you. “And yet…you came back.”
Jonathan exhaled. “Strange, right? I don’t know why, but…I can’t sell it. I’ve tried. And now it’s mine.”
“Are you happy you came back?”
“I think so,” he answered, the words surprisingly honest. Or maybe it was the most honest he could be with me in the moment. “You ever think about coming back?”
When the question was turned on me, I felt like a deer stuck in the headlights.