Justin tuts. “Surely there’s a rule saying teachers can’t do that?”

  This doesn’t elicit so much as a smirk from the principal. “It was Xavier and Cameron who were doing the name calling, Mr. Thomas.”

  I don’t really want to say it out loud, but I mean… that’s it? That’s what I left my kitchen remodel to come in and talk about? I know it’s been a long time since I was at school but my memory is that boys of that age would routinely throw names back and forth at one another, get each other in headlocks, then be back to friends by lunchtime. This doesn’t feel like a call-the-parents-in kind of situation, and I can’t help but suppress a chuckle over the idea of Daniel Sailsbury going from questioning witnesses on the stand to mediating a discussion where the subject is two boys calling each other poopy heads.

  It appears that Justin is on the same train of thought as me. “Did either of the accused physically assault the other?”

  Principal Sailsbury clears his throat. “This is not a versus issue, Mr. Thomas. And no, there was no physical fight. But I believe there was an incident yesterday where one of the boys shoved the other.”

  “Yes, that was Miss Blake’s son, Cameron. He shoved Xavier over a wolf sticker.” Justin shoots me a raised brow, daring me to contest him.

  “Not true. It was the other way round,” I say.

  “It’s not important who—” Principal Sailsbury doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Justin turns to me, ignoring him.

  “Not only that, but I put it to you that your son is a repeat offender. Xavier told me he once saw Cameron skip line for a pudding cup in the lunch hall,” he says, clearly enjoying this.

  I scoff and cross my arms. “Oh, please. Unreliable witness.”

  Justin nods, as though he’s onto something. “And I heard that he routinely toots and blames innocent bystanders.”

  “Oh, objection!” I can’t stop myself.

  “On what grounds?” Justin tips his head, daring me.

  “Relevance.” I turn back to the principal. “And I’d like that remark stricken from the record.”

  “I’m not keeping any records of this conversation, Miss Blake.” Principal Sailsbury sighs.

  “Actually, I’d say it’s quite relevant to establishing your son’s character,” Justin posits.

  It seems as though we might be grating on Principal Sailsbury’s nerves because he leans back in his chair and tries to rein the conversation in. “I think you’re both missing the point here. I’d just like to reiterate that this is not a versus issue. We try to foster a cohesive structure in our classrooms and what we’re looking for is a way to encourage that in both of your boys.”

  Justin nods in agreement at this and scoots his chair forward. “If I may approach the desk?”

  “You’re a mere two feet from it, Mr. Thomas. But sure.” He squeezes the bridge of his nose, completely unamused.

  Justin nods. “Thanks. I think that a cohesive structure is what we all want, but I’m sensing a lack of co-operation from the defense.” He shoots a thumb back at me.

  “If you two have just about finished this…” Principal Sailsbury seems at a loss for words. “This. Then I would suggest you try working through your children’s issues by giving them the opportunity to get to know each other outside the school setting.”

  It’s not long before the principal dismisses us both with a very reluctant handshake and the moment we close his office door behind us, Justin and I both crack up.

  I have to muffle my laughter in my sleeve as I wave goodbye to the secretary when we pass by the office.

  “I think that went really well,” Justin says chipperly as we walk out the door into the cold outside.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t think he’ll be calling either of us into his office anytime soon again, anyway. He looked like he wanted to punch you.”

  “You mean cohesively structure his fist with my face?”

  I laugh at this. “Schools have changed since our day, huh?”

  “You can say that again. I once got pushed into a huge mud puddle by the biggest kid in my school. My principal saw it with his own eyes and you know what he did?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. He just held out a hand to pull me back up and told me to go clean myself off.”

  This about tracks with what I remember from childhood and I’m so glad things have changed since then. I’m happy that bullying is no longer tolerated, but on the other hand I think calling in parents for every squabble or disagreement only stops children from learning how to resolve conflict themselves.

  When I reach my car, Justin stops next to me. He leans against the hood and crosses his arms. “I think Principal Sailsbury might be onto something though, maybe we should get the boys together.”

  I pause. “Oh. Well, sure, I guess. If you give me your number, we can arrange something soon. Maybe take them out for ice cream, if you want?”

  Justin smiles. “Great. It’s a date.”

  12

  MORY

  “Okay, Mory, you want to pass the body shell over?”

  I pick up the shell and pass it to him. “Here you go, Mr. Parker.”

  “I told you, call me Quinten,” Hutch’s dad says, placing the shell around the body of the ant, hiding the magic we’ve been working on all afternoon underneath it.

  “Sorry,” I say, then look at Hutch next to me and make an oops face.

  Hutch laughs, and his dimples show.

  There’s no denying it, he’s cute. Freshly eighteen this week, he’s two years older than me but he’s already taller than his father and has a maturity beyond which I’ve ever seen in a guy his age.

  Spending today at the Parkers’ house, working on this robotic ant project with Hutch and his dad has been the best experience I’ve had since moving to this crappy town. And judging from the sounds coming from downstairs, I’d say Cameron enjoys being at the Parkers’ house better than ours, too. He and Leo are supposed to be doing Lego down there but I’m pretty sure they’ve just been having a Nerf fight for about an hour now.

  In our house there would be no room for both a delicate robotics project and an all-out Nerf war to coexist, but the Parkers have a dedicated project room upstairs that holds everything from Felicity’s sewing machine and reels of fabric to a completed seven-thousand-piece Lego Millennium Falcon, which Hutch and his dad built. There’s a huge wooden table in the middle of the room with benches either side of it and a wall with shelves the whole way up that has every kind of craft supply imaginable. This is a family who do things together. Create things together. It shows, too, in Hutch’s relationship with his father. And I’ve been trying to put my full attention into this build but when you’re working right alongside a guy this hot your mind begins to wander.

  “Okay, kids. I think you can take over from here. I’ve got to go check on the boys, they probably have the whole house covered in Lego by now. Hutch, you show Mory how to work the remote,” Quinten says, then leaves the room.

  I notice he leaves the door open a little, probably to make sure that robotics are all Hutch and I are doing in here.

  Alone with him now, I scoot a little further up the bench closer to Hutch as he explains the controls. “Okay, you just move this up and…” He smiles as the ant moves forwards.

  “This is so cool,” I say. “Way more advanced than what we did back in my old school.”

  “My dad and I started with the basics as well, about a year ago, and we’ve just kind of been working our way up from there,” Hutch explains.

  I take the remote and move the little ant back and forth, and Hutch is so close now that I can hear his breath near my ear. At the press of a button the ant turns and walks in the other direction. I try to focus but my thoughts are elsewhere.

  I wonder if I’m on his mind as much as he’s on mine. I know he’s attracted to me, too, it’s obvious with the little looks he’s given me today. Even so, I can’t come on too strong because I’m afraid of what his reaction might be. But since that day we walked past each other and both looked back at the same time, he’s been on my mind. His blond hair, his deep blue eyes, and the wanting look on his face when he glances my way.

  Hutch’s fingers graze mine as he picks up the ant, which threatens to fall off the table and we both pull our hands back as though a bolt of electricity passed through us. We laugh nervously and get back to playing with the ant as my mind begins to drift again.

  If things do ever go further than flirting, I know that nothing can happen here at his house. Not with his whole family here.

  “I’m really glad you came over today,” Hutch says.

  “Me too.” I grin as our eyes meet.

  “Have you been to Lonerock Falls yet?”

  “What’s that, a waterfall?”

  Hutch nods. “Yeah. And it’s pretty great. It’s only about five minutes from here; I go there all the time. I can take you there sometime if you want?”

  “That sounds great,” I say.

  We hear footsteps approaching and without saying a word we both instinctively move a little further from one another just as Quinten comes back into the room.

  “How are you kids getting on? Is the ant working okay?” he asks.

  Hutch clears his throat. “Yeah, I think so.”

  Quinten leans between us and picks it up. “You two did a great job. Should we bring it down and show the boys?”

  “Sure.” Hutch gets up and I follow him.

  We walk side by side as we follow his dad downstairs. We find Cameron and Leo in the kitchen eating ice cream straight out of the container and when we show them the ant, they immediately want to give it a try outside. Hutch passes over the ant and the controls to his little brother with strict instructions not to break them, then he turns to Quinten who’s collecting up dozens of Nerf darts from all over the floor. “Hey, Dad, is it okay if I take the car out? Mory hasn’t seen Lonerock Falls yet and I thought I could drive her over there real quick to show her.”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just drive carefully, okay?” He pulls his car keys from his back pocket and flings them to Hutch who catches them.

  Outside, we walk shoulder to shoulder down the driveway. “I didn’t know you had your license,” I say.

  “I got it last year.” Hutch grins. “Passed first time. I’m saving up for my own car, but for now my dad lets me borrow his every once in a while.”

  I sit in the passenger side and Hutch starts up the engine. I feel a little nervous about being in a car with a newbie driver behind the wheel but Hutch seems really mature for his age and I doubt he’s the type to try to impress me by driving too fast. Either way, I make sure I’m buckled up tight before he carefully backs down the driveway.

  We’re only driving for a few minutes before Hutch parks the car on the side of the road. We get out and descend a slope on foot—Hutch catching my arm when I nearly fall—and we soon come to a clearing in front of a rushing waterfall. With the embankment hiding the road behind and the water sparkling in the sunlight, it’s like suddenly stepping into a painting, too perfect to be true.

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathe.

  Hutch steps in front of me and takes hold of my hands. “Not as beautiful as you.”

  This is by far the sweetest thing a guy has ever said to me. With second place going to the time Jimmy Farnsley at my old school told me I was a solid seven out of ten, with makeup on. Which was rich coming from a guy who looked like he’d stop you on a bridge and make you solve a riddle in order to pass.

  Hutch closes in the distance between us and just as his lips are hovering above mine, his phone starts to ring in his pocket and we both let out a nervous laugh before he pulls it out and answers.

  I walk over to the waterfall and let the tiny droplets of cast-off wash over my face as he takes the call. After a moment, he walks over and tells me his dad needs the car soon to go collect dinner. With the moment between us passed, we walk back to the car and make the short drive back to his parents’ house.

  Inside, I find Cameron in the living room with Leo playing a video game and I tell him we have to leave. As usual, he refuses to listen and I have to drag him along by the arm.

  Hutch is in the kitchen with his dad, returning the car keys, and I thank them both for letting me help out with the project. Hutch insists I come over again next weekend to help him and his dad with another one.

  On the way out the door, pushing Cameron in front of me, I look back and see he’s watching me leave. I smile and he winks at me, sending my heart soaring, and I don’t think next weekend can come soon enough.

  Luckily, it won’t have to, because the second Cameron and I arrive back at our house I hear my phone buzz and I pull it out, surprised to see a text signed with his name, reading:

  Meet me back at Lonerock Falls at midnight.

  13

  RUBY

  “Okay, you can stop laughing now,” I plead.

  Justin tries to rein it in, but his pursed lips only stay sealed for about three seconds before laugher bursts out of them again and he doubles over.

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He wipes away a tear. “I just… Oh God, I wish I could’ve been there to see it. I mean, the image of the guy opening the door to find Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, standing outside his house accusing him of kidnap!”

  I’m starting to regret telling him about what happened on Halloween night.

  I cross my arms. “Trust me, it wasn’t at all funny in the moment.” I struggle to maintain a straight face but a smile slowly creeps across my reddened cheeks. I suppose it is kind of funny.

  Taking Principal Sailsbury’s advice, Justin and I arranged to get Cameron and Xavier together outside of school, giving them a chance to get to know one another better. I’d wanted to take them out for ice cream, but when Justin found out I’d just moved into a fixer-upper he’d insisted that he and Xavier come over, eager to take a look around. I’d been a little apprehensive at first, since my kitchen currently resembles a building site—what with the countertops still missing and the floors all ripped up—but saying this to Justin over the phone had only served to further his excitement about seeing the place.

  He’d shown up with two tubs of Ben and Jerry’s for the boys and a fully stocked toolkit for me, tied up with a red ribbon. I’d gratefully accepted it, being woefully under equipped for many of the tasks ahead of me, even after my hardware store haul. It seems Justin’s a real DIY enthusiast because he’s only been here thirty minutes but in that time he’s shown me a whole new vision for the place. He’s got unusually strong opinions about things like light fixtures and storage solutions.

  We’re now sitting on the back step, drinking coffee, watching the two boys as they work together to climb the large tree that sits at the end of the yard. Xavier is holding Cameron’s foot to give him a boost up. You’d never know they’d been the cause of such problems in their classroom. I suppose Principal Sailsbury was right, they just needed to get to know each other in a different setting.

  Justin pushes back his dark hair. “So, you’ve just moved here. Two kids. Doing this all by yourself. What’s your story?”

  It’s becoming increasingly obvious to me that Justin is a walls-down kind of guy. It’s a little intimidating, but also kind of refreshing.

  “Divorced. My husband left me for another woman.” I shrug. “That old story.”

  “Ouch.” He scrunches his face up.

  “It’s fine.” I sigh. “He really levelled up. She’s the domestic goddess I never was. And honestly, both our lives are better for it.”

  Justin looks as though he’s sizing me up, trying to figure me out. I doubt he’ll have any luck; I’ve been living in my skin for over thirty-eight years and I still haven’t figured out exactly who I am.

  I haven’t had to ask Justin about himself because he freely handed out all information up front. He’s a man who doesn’t beat around the bush. At forty years old he’s a carpenter, a widowed father to eight-year-old Xavier and a lifelong resident of Lonerock. He lives close by, in a house he and his wife, Elle, built themselves before she passed away when Xavier was just a baby. All this he shared unreservedly with me, a woman he’s only met once before.

  My own observations are that he’s strangely upbeat for a guy who has faced great loss. He’s funny, he’s almost too handsome, and seems like a great father. So, naturally, I’m wondering what his deep dark secret is. There has to be something wrong with him.

  “So, your daughter, Mory. How is she liking Lonerock?” he asks.

  “Hmm,” I sigh, “I don’t think she’s liking it that much at all. Although she met a boy recently so that seems to be helping. He lives down the street. He just turned eighteen and apparently just got his driver’s license.”

  Justin raises an eyebrow at this and I laugh, knowing what he’s thinking. Because in truth, it terrifies me.

  I was a teenager once. I remember boys with cars. I remember what happens with boys in cars. Although, according to Mory, Hutch is as squeaky clean as they come. He’s the model son, the model student, and she says he even drives carefully. Not the kind of guy Mory is usually interested in, but I think his influence might be having an effect on her. I’ve noticed she’s ditched her usual grungy teenager vibe in favor of a cleaner, more preppy style. Gone are her ripped jeans and messy hair, now replaced by a more pulled together, clean appearance. And as much as I think she looks great, I’m worried she’s so enamored by Hutch that she’s trying to mold herself into what she thinks he wants. I just don’t want my daughter to compromise anything about herself in order to try to please a boy. Hutch may be clean-cut and well-spoken but underneath it all he’s still an eighteen-year-old male, just like any other, so there’s a strong potential for Mory to get hurt.

  I watch the boys now as they scramble their way off the tree and run around the side of the house with Cameron’s skateboard.