Chapter 11
Ella
Friday
“Hey,” my sister Mira walked into my room. “I don’t know how you find the time to do everything.” She flopped onto my bed. “But I walked by the village’s main street this morning, it all looks really cool, I can’t wait for tonight, it’s going to be so much fun!”
I smiled at her.
Mira and I would bump heads sometimes. She used to chase me around with wooden spoons while I screamed, and I used to pretend there was a secret passage in a closet that only I could enter. We had a fun childhood.
But I would never let anyone come close to touching her with a finger or fire a single mean word at her without me stepping up as a shield.
“I’m glad you’re excited,” I said, turning to keep organizing my desk drawers. “If you want, I can give you a ride tonight. Mom’s going with the boys later and coming home earlier.”
“Well…” my sister began slowly, “don’t you have a date or something?” I looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, and she continued, “Because… you know… it’s Friday night.”
My sister was poking her nose into something, curious about whatever it was. I just knew she was going somewhere with it. She wasn’t just asking; she was implying something else.
“My friend Inez told me she saw you talking to a pretty cute boy a week ago,” she finally said. “She said you left the Village Oven together and that she didn’t recognize him from our school…” There it was: her nosy face. “Who is he?”
I sealed my lips, torturing her. “You’re so nosy, both of you.”
“How could we not!?” she yelped. “There’s a whole row of potential lovers ready to object at your wedding, and you won’t give any of them a chance. And now, you’re spotted with a mysterious, and cute,” she emphasized, “guy, and you won’t tell me who he is.”
“Alright, alright.” There was no way I could keep a straight face after my sister’s remark. She was too funny. If she didn’t exist, she would have to be invented.
“His name is Miles. He just moved here. We met at the CIC. He’s volunteering there too. And last Friday, when Inez saw us, we were actually busy with the final tasks for these end-of-summer festivities.”
“Hmmm…” She kept going with her inquisition. “So he doesn’t go to our school?”
“Now he does,” I answer. “Or beginning next Monday, he will.”
“So he doesn’t know anyone yet?”
“Yeah,” I said, not entirely sure of my answer. “I think he doesn’t. I think he’s never been to Evermere before.”
“So he looked lonely to you. And you can’t stand to see people feeling sad, unheard, or: lonely,” she stated. “And you had to make sure he felt welcome.”
“We did get along. He’s really nice,” I simply added, before returning to my desk and my spacious, messy drawers.
“Or,” she continued, with a playful suspicion, stepping in front of me to block me from fleeing the conversation, “were you just looking for an excuse to talk to him?”
“Mira,” I let out a laugh, “he’s just a guy I met the other day. Now, let me organize my room, clean my desk, get everything ready so I don’t have to worry about it during the weekend.”
“Okay,” she sighed in resignation, “but just tell me… Did you think he was cute?”
I smiled and nodded toward the door, as if to tell her, “Time to go”, but she stood still with her “got something to tell me?” look on her face.
Sister’s telepathy — you speak without words.
“Okay,” I said, lightly placing my hands on her shoulders and turning her toward the door with a little push. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, okay.” She escaped from my hands and turned to me at the threshold.
“I’ll go. And I’ll come back in a few hours to steal something from your closet.
” She started to turn to leave, but quickly came back.
“And you should wear that new denim skirt and your cowgirl boots. Oh! And let me do your makeup! Just simple, very light. It won’t cover a single freckle.
C’mon, it’ll be fun! Let’s get ready together! ”
She didn’t really leave my door until I agreed I would let her use brushes and powders on my face later that night.
Nothing too flashy. My sister and her friends enjoyed those things: dressing up, doing their makeup, styling their hair, and staying out as late as possible.
I didn’t really know how to apply eyeshadows, or how to manage to survive a night out past 3 a.m. I liked to dance.
I liked to socialize. But she had always been the extrovert of the two of us.
And she was also the nosy one.
Of course, Mira would have questions once she heard about it. And small-town news traveled fast.
It had been a fun day. But we hadn’t seen each other since.
I knew he had gone to the venue to help assemble the stalls’ wooden structures. Miss Amara told me this when I went to her house for my piano lesson three nights ago. But I hadn’t seen him around all week.
When I arrived at the CIC on Tuesday afternoon for my shift with the children, I found myself glancing around as I walked through the building, thinking maybe he’d show up when I turned a corner.
I just felt like I would like to see him, ask him what he thought about the new town, the new house, the new neighbors, the new post office? I don’t know.
But he didn’t.
And the week just kept going by.