All of the above.
The truth is, I want to see him, but I don’t think it’s a smart move. Nothing’s changed since our last text exchange—except, presumably he’s broken up with his not-technically-a-girlfriend. I’m burning with curiosity to know if he ended things with her. The prospect of him being single makes my heart light, which is inconvenient, because I shouldn’t care.
For one thing, I’m still his tenant. For another, he’s still working to turn Norland Park into a luxury resort. And for athird—possibly most important—dating him is a terrible idea.
I haven’t mentioned his text to my mom or sister, because they will want me to give him another chance. If I’m honest, there’s a big part of me that wants to, but my rational mind knows I should hold firm. I’m tempted to just leave him on read, but I can’t bring myself to do that. I start drafting my reply.
Is your girlfriend coming with you? Does she like nachos?
Delete.
Why are you texting me now after more than a week of silence?
I hope you get into some poison oak!
Delete, delete.
I miss you!
I hate that I miss you!
I’d love to see you ♥♥♥
Delete, delete, delete.
My saner self taps out:
How fun! I hope you have a great weekend. Unfortunately, I’m super busy. Maybe some other time??
Sending this text kind of kills me. He’s going to hate it—Ihate it. It’s insincere slop. But I need to keep my distance.
Three dots immediately appear, disappear, and thenappear again. Apparently, Edward isn’t any better at the quick response than I am.
I understand. If things change, let me know. I really do need to talk to you ♥
And now I’m back to staring at my phone again. I have no idea what to say. I am not made for texting—it stresses me out so much more than writing a letter or talking face to face, and I overthink every message. I finally thumbs up Edward’s message and leave it at that.
My phone rings. It’s my sister.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Pepper’s missing!” She sounds frantic.
“When did you last see her?”
“About ten minutes ago. Brandon and I were talking after class, and she just ran off. He went to the cottage. I’m going to the cove. Could you check the Tower?”
“Does Pepper know about the Tower?” I’m already racing out of my office.
“I showed it to her yesterday.”
“Why would you do that? It’s not safe.”
“I played up there when I was younger than Pepper. I was fine.” Pepper is probably fine too, but I need to make sure.
“Okay, I’m on my way!”
I drive a golf cart to the path leading to the treehouse. I scramble up the steep trail, which after yesterday’s rain is running with water. The dark green of the boughs contrasts against the rough red bark of the trees, and the small yellow violets peep like stars on the forest floor.
