Chapter 8
EIGHT
HALLIE
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
Just as I finish tightening the elastic securing my hair in a half up, half down look, my phone pings on my dresser.
Clara
We’re outside!
I’ll be down in a minute!
Tucking my phone into my crossbody purse, I leave my bedroom. I bound down the stairs and spot Pops in his recliner in the living room, half asleep. Crossing to him, I place a kiss on his cheek. He startles, waking from his nap.
“I’m heading out,” I say.
He smiles up at me. “Did you eat?”
I shake my head, forcing a smile of my own. “Not hungry. I’ll probably have something later.”
Pops reaches out and opens the drawer of the side table. He pulls out his wallet, which is secured with a rubber band because it’s falling apart and he refuses to get another. He carefully unwinds it and then fishes out a couple twenties.
“Here,” he says. “Buy yourself something at the fair.”
I thank him and take the money, knowing full well that I’ll just slip the bills back into his wallet when I get home later tonight. I don’t like taking his money, so I only buy things using what I make from my part-time job at Dockside. For now, though, I tuck the bills away in my purse.
“I’ll see you later, Pops.”
“Bye, Junebug. Have a good time.”
Outside, there’s a bit of a bite to the air, but it’s a relatively mild day for October. Still, I maybe should have grabbed a jacket. It’s too late now, though. I don’t want to keep my friends waiting.
Clara is hanging out the back window of her brother’s truck. I can see her boyfriend, Cooper, sitting beside her. I guess they’re not fighting today. That leaves the front seat, right next to Gabe, to me.
“C’mon, slowpoke!” Clara calls as I hurry down the front path.
I stick my tongue out at her as I pull open the door.
When Gabe’s eyes land on me, my foot falters on the running board. I catch myself before I fall and look like a total fool, but my cheeks still flame in embarrassment. The colour only deepens when Gabe’s lips stretch into a smile.
“Hey, Foster.”
I settle in my seat and buckle my seatbelt. “Hey.”
“ Hey ,” Clara says, poking her head between the front seats. “Let’s go !”
“Why are you so impatient?” Gabe asks, but he puts the truck in gear and takes off toward the fairgrounds.
“Why are you driving like a grandpa?” she counters. “I think our actual grandpa could drive faster than you.”
I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle my giggle. He is driving kind of slow.
“I just got this truck, thank you very much,” he defends. “Excuse me for not wanting to wrap it around a lamppost a week after I bought it.”
The fair is busy tonight, so we end up having to park on a side street and walk to the entrance. Within minutes, we’re sucked into the fray. There are locals and cottagers alike, making our small town feel bigger than it really is.
It doesn’t take long for Clara and Cooper to ditch us. Knowing them, they’ve found a secluded corner to make out in. It’s been like that for the past few months since they started dating—them sneaking away and leaving me on my own.
Except tonight, I’m not on my own.
Gabe is walking beside me, hands in his pockets, as the midway lights dance around us. Kids scream as they’re flipped this way and that on the carnival rides, just asking for motion sickness.
“How come you aren’t with your friends?” I ask.
Then I immediately cringe. Great . Now he’s going to feel like I don’t want him here .
“Connor has the flu,” he replies. “And truthfully…none of the guys are as pretty as you.”
When he says this, he looks at me. Right at me. One of his signature smiles graces his lips. I don’t know what to do, so I slide my gaze to the ground.
He called me pretty .
But he doesn’t mean it like that , Hallie . He’s just being nice .
I try to come up with something to say, but my mouth won’t work.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. I let out a silent sigh of relief at the change in subject. “I think I’m gonna get a funnel cake.”
The laugh comes easily, and I look up. “I think that’s supposed to be dessert.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, there aren’t any rules at the fair. I’m pretty sure that sugar is an official food group here.”
I bite back a goofy smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
He’s still wearing that grin of his when he nods toward the stand. “Do you want one?”
It’s tempting, but I don’t need to waste the money. I have school to pay for next year. “No, thanks.”
I stand off to the side as Gabe walks up to the window and orders his funnel cake. I scan the menu, taking in all the toppings they have to offer. I know that Gabe’s will be simple, though—strawberries, vanilla ice cream and icing sugar.
My stomach grumbles at the sight of his plate, but I ignore it. I’ll eat something when I get home tonight.
When we sit down at a vacant picnic table, I realize Gabe has a second fork. “You should have some,” he says. “Since I probably should save room for some real food.”
I take the extra fork with a small smile. “What happened to sugar being a food group?”
“What can I say? You’re a good influence on me, Foster.”
We eat in silence, but it’s comfortable. It’s always comfortable with him. And when I spend so much of my life feeling out of my comfort zone, having him around makes things feel less…hard.
After Gabe throws away our empty plate, we start walking around the midway again.
It’s incredibly overstimulating, with the pulsing lights and varying sounds.
Still, my heart aches a little when I see all the kids here with their parents.
I’ve never had that. My father has never been in my life, and my mom is too busy chasing the next thing that will give her a bit of short-lived happiness.
Just once, I wish that would be me.
“You’re quiet over there,” Gabe says. “What are you thinking about?”
I clutch the strap of my purse as I struggle to think up a response that isn’t super depressing. “Just that I’m having fun,” I say. “Thanks for sticking with me.”
He bumps my shoulder with his arm. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I think you might be my favourite person, you know.”
This makes my tongue tie up. I can’t form words. All I can do is focus on the beat of my heart and the way it skips a little when I find Gabe still watching me.
“Do you want to go on the Ferris wheel?” he asks.
I’ve never been on one before. On any ride, actually. But the Ferris wheel seems like it would be fun, so I agree.
In response, Gabe takes my hand. A thrill runs through me. Gabriel Bowman is holding my hand . He’s done it before, of course, when we were kids. But it feels different now.
To my disappointment, when we fall into line beneath the ride, he lets go. Then he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants again, and I fold my arms over my chest.
Then we’re up to ride next. A cool gust of wind blows by, causing me to shiver. I really should’ve grabbed that jacket.
“Cold?”
I shake my head. “ A little, but it’s fine.”
Gabe doesn’t listen. The next thing I know, he’s shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over my shoulders. The material envelops me in his lingering warmth.
“It’ll only be colder up there,” he says, pointing to the top of the wheel.
“What about you?”
His hands return to those damn pockets. “I’ll be okay. I’m a little warm right now anyway.”
I’m not sure how that’s possible, but I don’t argue. When another breeze whips through and he doesn’t ask for his jacket back, I slip my arms through the sleeves. Just in time, too, because the ride attendant waves us forward. Once the previous riders exit, Gabe gestures for me to hop on first.
The seats remind me of a ski lift, where you sit side by side. When I sit down on the far side, Gabe slides in after me, and then the lap bar is pulled down to secure us in place.
The ride begins to move almost instantly, but it stops shortly after to exchange another pair of riders. When we get to the top, the ride comes to a halt again.
“I feel like I’m on top of the world up here,” I say. Then I blush. “Oh my God, that was so cheesy.”
Why can I never just be chill around him? I feel like I’m always blurting out something stupid when I’m in his presence.
Gabe chuckles. “No, I get it,” he assures me. “There’s nothing that makes your problems feel small quite like watching everything from up here.”
It’s true. The cars look smaller, the houses, the world. I take a deep breath. It’s a perspective shift, one I’ve been needing.
When I turn back to him, Gabe is studying the fair below us.
I study his profile, memorizing his features.
His brown hair is a little messy, but I know he uses products to make it look that way.
Unlike his brother, he keeps his face clean-shaven.
To put it bluntly, he’s insanely handsome, and he makes the butterflies living in my stomach flutter nonstop.
Gabe looks over at me just as the wind kicks up again, blowing a wayward strand of hair into my face. Before I can swipe it away, his hand is there. With deft fingers, he tucks the piece behind my ear, and then he…lingers.
He’s touching my jaw, so close to my thundering pulse, and his gaze is locked on mine. But then it shifts, and oh my God , he’s looking at my lips. They part in disbelief. Gabe tracks the movement.
Holy crap. What do I do? I’ve never been kissed before, unless you count when one of the boys in my grade three class was dared to kiss me on the lips during recess. It was over in half a second, and he only caught the corner of my mouth.
“Foster,” he says. His voice is strained. “Hallie.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
I don’t know what I’m agreeing to exactly, but yes . Obviously yes. Gabe could ask me anything right now and I’d happily agree.
He leans closer, tilts my head back. I’m barely breathing. Then?—
The ride lurches, and the Ferris wheel starts spinning. We both scramble back to our respective sides of the bench, startled. I can’t look at him, so I stare off to the right. Even in the near dark, Kip Island looks pretty from up here. I focus on that.
And I tell myself Gabe wasn’t about to kiss me.
It was all in my head.