“It’s all in the wrist, I promise,” she hears Mr.Rile say, taking her hand tenderly to help her wind her arm in and then throw another stone, which skips twice before falling gracefully into the water.
Henrietta positively beams while Mr.Rile whoops in congratulations.
Mr. Dean flicks his wrist, sending his rock gliding across the water. It skips three times before plopping into the lake.
“Well done,” Rosalie says.
Mr.Dean just hums and gestures for her to toss her rock. She manages a respectable two skips.
“More flick,” he says, before looking down to hunt for another stone, offering her nothing else.
“EIGHT!”
Rosalie looks over to find Aunt Genevieve jumping up and down as MissPine, Christopher, and Amalie congratulate her.
“What’s your secret?” Amalie asks.
“Height,” Aunt Genevieve says, winking at Rosalie, who huffs good-naturedly.
“Well, we can achieve that, can’t we?” Christopher asks, turning and encouraging Amalie to climb up onto his back.
Amalie hesitates, but Aunt Genevieve is giggling, and Henrietta’s watching her from Mr.Rile’s arms, grinning, so she goes for it. Together, Amalie and Christopher rear back and throw their stones, Amalie clinging to his back with one arm, her legs around his hips, with him scrabbling to keep her in place with one arm.
And of course both stones skip four times.
Christopher and Amalie cheer and Rosalie shakes her head. They are absurd. Perfectly absurd. And so right for each other.
As her brother and Amalie struggle to bend down to get new rocks without falling, Rosalie notices MissPine watching them as well. The look on her face is wistful, even with Mr.Sholle standing beside her, a hand on her back, explaining the perfect wrist flick without realizing she’s no longer paying attention.
Rosalie looks away before Miss Pine can notice her. Shelaughs when Aunt Genevieve steps in to steady Christopher before he and Amalie tumble predictably into the pond.
They’re falling for each other, just starting, she can tell. Christopher’s baby crush is growing into full adoration, while Amalie’s seeing something in him she’s never noticed before. And Rosalie gets to watch it all firsthand. Take credit.
She glances back at Mr.Dean, who’s now just standing there, staring off across the pond.
What must it be like to actually fall for someone who falls for you back? To be so irrational and emotional and... infatuated? To risk falling into the pond to make a pretty girl laugh?
She can’t help but look past Christopher and Amalie to MissPine again, and finds her staring back. She raises a slightly glum shoulder and Rosalie wonders what’s on her own face. MissPine rolls her eyes in some kind of commiseration, and then turns dutifully back to Mr.Sholle, giving him her attention.
Rosalie sighs and bends down, picking up a smooth, gray stone. She blows out a breath and tosses it across the pond, trying to fling away all the confusion swirling in her brain with it. It doesn’t skip even once, landing instead with an enormous splash.
Everyone turns to look and Rosalie feels her cheeks go pink. Christopher and Amalie seem dangerously amused at the frustration on Rosalie’s face, but MissPine is giggling.
Rosalie’s stomach swoops. She has such a damn infectious laugh.
Maybe falling for someone feels like this. Unsettling in a way that’s rather addictive.
What would it be like to just... let herself fall? Enjoy thetingle of something real, even if it’s going to crash and burn later. Who would it hurt?
It’s not like MissPine would really be an option anyway, even for a short while.
But then her eyes catch Rosalie’s, so much there in her gaze. MissPine can’t be an option. She doesn’t feel how Rosalie feels. She’s just... competitive, and sly, and witty.
But the look she’s giving Rosalie is the same one from Aunt Genevieve’s painting. The look that keeps her up at night. What is she supposed to do with that?
Chapter Ten
Catherine
