Chapter Nineteen
Annabelle woke to sunlight streaming through her bedroom window and a feeling that could only be described as nausea plus the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. Perhaps with a little ‘first exam of the university term’ thrown in.
She'd kissed Raven.
Raven.
Raven the rockstar.
Last night.
In Raven's cottage.
After Raven had told her about the library, about foster care, about being Rachel Adams.
Annabelle pressed both hands to her face, feeling the smile spread across her lips even as her heart hammered against her ribs.
Did that really happen?
She replayed the moment in excruciating, wonderful detail.
The way they'd stood at the door, the charged silence, the way Raven's eyes had darkened before they'd somehow moved together.
The softness of Raven's lips, the gentle press of her hand at Annabelle's waist, the way her fingers had tangled in Annabelle's hair.
The kiss had been…perfect. Tentative at first, then deeper, more urgent, like they'd both been holding their breath for weeks and finally remembered how to breathe.
And then it had ended.
Raven had pulled back, her expression shifting from wonder to something that looked suspiciously like panic. She'd stepped away, cleared her throat, and said "Goodnight" in a voice that was too careful, too controlled.
And then she'd practically shut the door in Annabelle's face.
Annabelle flopped back against her pillows with a groan.
But that's just Raven, she told herself firmly. She was probably scared. It's perfectly normal to be scared after kissing your neighbor.
Except the memory of Raven's panic kept replaying on a loop. The way she'd withdrawn, the careful distance she'd put between them, the polite but definite dismissal.
What did it mean?
Annabelle rolled out of bed, her thoughts buzzing with nervous energy. She got ready for school on autopilot, brushing her teeth, pulling on her favorite blue cardigan, twisting her hair into a loose bun. But her mind was entirely elsewhere.
They'd kissed.
She'd kissed Raven.
The grumpy rockstar next door who'd complained about her welcome basket and called her a lunatic. Who'd helped with the fundraiser and taught Jamie guitar and revealed the most tender, vulnerable parts of herself over tea at midnight.
Annabelle caught sight of her reflection in the hallway mirror and paused.
She was smiling like an absolute fool.
"Get it together," she told her reflection sternly. But the smile wouldn't budge.
AT SCHOOL, ANNABELLE was useless.
"Ms. Swift, you said we were doing maths next."
Annabelle blinked at the sea of expectant faces. "Right. Yes. Maths. Of course."
She'd been standing at the whiteboard for a full minute, marker in hand, thinking about the way Raven had looked at her. Like she was something precious. Something exotic and fragile. A pharoah’s mummy, perhaps. Or maybe something slightly less decomposed. Like… a butterfly.
"Ms. Swift?" Marie raised her hand. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine!" Annabelle said brightly, turning to write on the board and nearly dropping the marker. "Just thinking about… fractions. Who loves fractions?"
The children exchanged glances that suggested they thought their teacher had finally lost the plot.
By mid-morning break, Nina had cornered her in the staff room.
"Okay, what happened?" Nina asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity as she poured them both tea.
"What do you mean?" Annabelle said innocently, deliberately focusing on stirring milk into her mug.
"You've been floating around all morning. You nearly walked into a door. You called Jamie 'sweetheart' three times in a row." Nina grinned. "Something happened."
Annabelle felt heat creep up her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Come on, Ms. Swift." Nina leaned against the counter, still grinning. "You're practically glowing. Did you win the lottery? Find a twenty-pound note in your coat pocket?"
"I'm just in a good mood," Annabelle said, taking a very deliberate sip of her tea.
"Uh-huh." Nina's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, whatever it is, it suits you. I haven't seen you smile like that in ages."
"I always smile."
"Not like that." Nina waggled her eyebrows. "That's a special smile. A secret smile."
"Nina," Annabelle said, trying and failing to sound stern while fighting back a grin.
"Fine, fine, keep your secrets." Nina laughed and squeezed Annabelle's arm. "But for what it's worth, whatever, or whoever, put that smile on your face? I'm happy for you."
Annabelle's blush deepened, but before she could respond, the bell rang.
As she headed back to her classroom, the uncertainty crept back in. What if Raven regretted it? What if she wished it had never happened?
It had only been a kiss. Just one kiss. But… but it had felt like more, hadn’t it?
BY LUNCHTIME, LILY had noticed.
"My office. Now," Lily said, appearing in Annabelle's doorway with a look that meant she wasn't taking no for an answer.
Annabelle followed her friend down the corridor and into the small office that smelled permanently of coffee and paperwork.
Lily shut the door and turned to face her, arms crossed. "Alright. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on."
"Annabelle, you've been floating around like you've won a million pounds, but you also look like you might cry at any moment. So, what happened?"
Annabelle sank into the chair across from Lily's desk and covered her face with her hands. "I might have kissed her."
"Kissed who?"
"Raven."
"Might have, or did?"
Annabelle peeked through her fingers. "Did. Definitely did."
There was a pause. Then Lily let out a long breath and sat down. "Right. Okay. Tell me everything."
So Annabelle did. She explained about going over last night, worried when the house was too quiet. The tea and the vulnerability. Raven's story about the library and foster care. The moment at the door. The kiss.
"And then she basically shut the door in my face," Annabelle finished breathlessly."Which could mean she hated it, or that I had horrific breath, or that she doesn’t like girls anymore, or that she felt overwhelmed, or that it was so good that she couldn’t think straight, or—"
"Annabelle. Stop."
Annabelle stopped.
Lily was quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "How do you feel about it?"
"Terrified," Annabelle admitted. "But also…happy? Is that strange?"
"It's not strange." Lily's voice was gentle. "But Annabelle, I need you to be careful."
"Careful?"
"Raven is still healing from what looked like a pretty significant breakup. She came here to escape, to figure things out. She might not be ready for something real."
"I know that," Annabelle said quietly.
"And you have a tendency to try to fix people."
Annabelle's head snapped up. "I don't—"
"You do," Lily said, not unkindly. "It's one of the things I love about you. You see someone struggling and you want to help. But you can't fix Raven, Annabelle. She has to figure things out on her own."
"I'm not trying to fix her," Annabelle protested. "I just…like her."
Lily studied her for a long moment. Then her expression softened. "You really do, don't you?"
"Yes." The word came out quieter than Annabelle intended.
"I know she's grumpy and difficult and probably not interested in staying in Bankton long-term, but I just…
I like her, Lily. I like the way she is with Jamie.
I like how she pretends not to care but actually cares so much.
I like…" She stopped, feeling overwhelmed. "I just like her."
Lily reached across the desk and squeezed Annabelle's hand. "Then I'm cautiously supportive. But please, please be careful. Guard your heart a little bit. Not everyone is ready for what you have to offer."
"I will," Annabelle promised.
But as she walked back to her classroom, she wondered if it was already too late for that.
THAT EVENING, ANNABELLE baked biscuits.
It was her go-to stress response, had been since she was a teenager. When exams loomed, she baked. When her father had been ill, she'd baked enough to feed the entire village. When her last relationship had ended, she'd produced seventeen batches of chocolate chip cookies in a single weekend.
Now, standing in her kitchen surrounded by cooling racks, she was definitely stress-baking.
Chocolate chip. Oatmeal raisin. Lemon (of course). Sugar cookies with pink icing.
She arranged some on a plate, then paused.
Should she bring them to Raven?
It would be friendly. Normal. Just neighbors sharing baked goods. Except nothing about last night had been normal, and showing up at Raven's door with cookies might be… too much.
What if she thinks I'm being pushy? What if she needs space?
Annabelle set the plate down and stared at it.
Maybe Lily was right. Maybe she needed to wait for Raven to make the next move. To show that she wanted… whatever this was.
But the uncertainty was killing her.
What if Raven regrets it? What if she's avoiding me?
Annabelle picked up the plate, then set it down again. Picked it up. Set it down.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself. "You're being ridiculous."
She wrapped the cookies carefully and put them in a tin. Then she put the tin in her cupboard where she wouldn't have to look at it.
Wait for her to make the next move, she told herself firmly. Give her space. Don't be pushy.
But as the evening wore on, the nervous energy only grew. She cleaned the kitchen twice. Reorganized her bookshelf. Started grading papers, then gave up when she realized she'd read the same paragraph five times without absorbing a single word.
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she walked to the window and looked out.
Raven's cottage sat in the growing darkness, warm light glowing from the windows. Annabelle could see a shadow moving inside, Raven, probably pacing, or playing guitar, or doing whatever it was she did in the evenings.
What is she thinking? Does she regret it? Is she as confused as I am?
Annabelle pressed her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes.
She'd kissed Raven. And now everything had changed. And she had absolutely no idea what came next.
But one thing was certain: she couldn't stop thinking about it. About her. About the way Raven had looked at her in that charged moment before their lips met.
Like she wanted Annabelle too.
Annabelle opened her eyes and stared at the cottage next door, the questions buzzing in her mind like bees.
What are you doing, Raven? What are you thinking?
She stood there for a long time, watching the light in the window, waiting for an answer that didn't come.