After we scan out of the admin building, we meander toward the paved path leading to Main Street. It’s a misty gray morning, and even though Lake Placid is majestic with liquid sunsets bleeding across a watercolor sky, there’s something moody and magical about the coziness of damp earth and dew-dripped leaves. The air hangs heavy with the medicinal scent of balsam and citrusy evergreen and the rich spice of cedar. It’s so fragrantly fall and nostalgic that I wish I could bottle it up and carry it with me everywhere.
William migrates toward the center of the road as we walk, and I keep having to rein him to the side. He startles every time a car whooshes past.
“You haven’t gone into town yet, have you?” I ask, careful to keep my voice low.
His eyes are wide with bewilderment. “No.”
“Just”—I search for the right words—“try to be less obvious?”
“For you,” he says, gold-rimmed eyes gleaming, “anything.”
The sentiment does nothing to calm my soft, fluttering heart.
Main Street is a cacophony of cars sweeping into empty parking spaces, overlapping conversation, and peals of laughter from excited children. Wine cellars offer tasting rooms and breweries boast about upcoming happy hours while cafés entice customers with promises of steaming cider and seasonal coffee flavors. Antique shops and popcorn companies and art galleries line the storefronts, and the only movie theater hosts a letterboard inviting viewers to come check out new releases.
Sabine pops in and buys us a bag of confetti-drizzled kettle corn to share as we join the long line outside of Betty’s. William tests one, then begins scooping more by the handful.
“This isdelightful,” he proclaims.
Analiese sidles up next to me. “I didn’t realize you had plans.”
“Sabine only told me last night.” I don’t want her to feel left out, like I secretly planned this without her. Analiese’s schedule doesn’t often allow time for spontaneity.
“Analiese.” Inessa comes over and rests her forearm on top of her shoulder. “Tell them about Ellison’s class on Thursday.”
The line moves along as Analiese launches into a story about Julian Montfort earning the class a surprise pop quiz because hecouldn’t keep his mouth shut, and how Analiese talked Mr.Ellison into making it a bonus assignment instead. Neither were ideal, but at least the extra assignment could count toward their grade, not against. I can’t help glancing at William every now and then, finding him drinking in his surroundings with a sense of awe.
“So where do you two wander off to in the evening?” Inessa asks as the line moves ahead.
I freeze. Had people started to notice?
“Us?” I blurt as William catches my eye. “Well—I—”
He jumps in without hesitation. “Delaney is helping me with my problem.”
“Your problem?” Analiese echoes.
Oh no. This is not what I need right now.
“Studying…for calculus,” I lie.
She arches a brow. “Isn’t Sumner your roommate?”
“My problem with women,” William intercepts, owning this without an ounce of shame.
“Uh, right,” I say less confidently.
“You,” Analiese says, giving him a long once-over, “struggle with dating?”
Inessa and Sabine look at me, as if I can make sense of this. I can’t. Because I see exactly what they see. A tall, gentlemanly, and exceptionally good-looking guy whose accent does nothing to make him less attractive.
“Very much so,” William emphasizes. “Which is why Delaney has allowed me to escort her to the gala.”
“Delaney”—Sabine nudges me with her hip—“that is so cute.”
Analiese only stares at him. “Where did you say you were from again?”
“Rural England,” I reply, right as William says, “London.”
