Page 4 of Falling For Alaska

Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders back and glance around. Could he be here today? I keep looking. Left, right, scanning the crowd like I’m just people-watching. When in fact, I’m hoping to spot him. He’s been stuck in my mind all week, drifting in and out like a character from one of my romances. A few visitors stop by to ask about the giveaway or admire the setup. I make small talk and guide them toward the ballot box. There’s a writing workshop scheduled just before lunch, and I’m hoping for at least four people to show up. Being a social butterfly isn’t exactly my forte, but from time to time, I have to put myself out there and advertise Hidden Treasures, even if I’d much rather be tucked away with a book. At least here, I can see people coming and keeping a safe distance. Even a passing shoulder can make me shrink, like my body’s trying to retract into itself.

“Laska, d’you want some?” Bella asks, her mouth full of glossy pink donuts. Her long dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail, bouncing as she moves.

“No thanks, I already had a cinnamon roll from Sherry’s stand. I’m full.” She drops into a chair inside my little white tent, moving with that effortless grace she always has.

“So,” Bella says, biting into her donut and scanning the crowd, “let’s start our bet, shall we?” Despite the sun, the air is sharp with that early October bite. Orange leaves flutter from the trees and land softly on the gravel path. I’m in my favorite jeans, a big navy sweater, and the small golden earrings my mom gave me for my eighteenth birthday. Bella’s dressed exactly like me, only her sweater is neon pink, because of course it is. Ever since we were little, she’s always been attracted to anything feminine and girly. Which suits her beautifully. Only she can devour donuts with the elegance of a princess.

“Uh, not again,” rolling my eyes at yet another one of her attempts to get us to talk to men. Bella doesn’t know I’ve sworn to live a life of solitude since the incident. She just thinks I’m shy when it’s so much more than that. I made a promise to myself and I intend to keep it. No one should have to carry the weight of being with me. That’s not a burden I’m willing to hand over.

Not now.

Not ever.

“Yes, again. It’s time we find ourselves a lumberjack or a mountain man, or anything resembling the male species,” she chuckles, “we’re twenty-two, Laska. Most of the girls our age living in the city are dating guys all the time. We need to get out there!” she urges enthusiastically, waving her hand at the crowd.

Bella is a nanny. Her dad has been sick with cancer for years, and each time she thinks he’s on a healing path, the cancer comes back again, crushing her family’s hopes. She always preferred creative activities and anything that didn’t require sitting still in a chair all day. When a nanny job opened up at the local daycare, she applied and got it. Since then, she’s been thriving while also staying close to her family. I know she likes to daydream about what it would be like to live in a skyscraper, with Starbucks and cinemas on every street corner, but deep down, I’m convinced she wouldn’t trade what she has for the world. Being near her family matters most to her, and I get it. I’m doing it too, even if it’s not exactly for the same reasons.

“Okay, okay, let’s look out for you then,” I comply, searching the crowd for someone who might fit her taste. I spot a man near the honey and chocolate stand. He’s tall, with a beard and a red checkered shirt.

“Here,” I say, motioning with my chin toward the man.

“Too cliché,” she presses her index finger lightly to her lips, “someone more…um, unique.” I keep looking. There are quite a few men here, but most are retired, students, or family men, not exactly the ideal dating pool. Turning to my left, I notice a young man our age, staring at his phone as he bites into a crispy caramel apple.

“And him?” I ask her.

“Nah, he’s not… That won’t do. Maybe next year.” She sighs, then opens her eyes wide and half-whispers, half-screams in my ear like a high schooler unable to contain herself in the back of the class.

“Laska—oh my god, who is this?” She points toward the right side of the crowd, and without even needing to look at who she’s pointing to, the hairs on my nape rise instantly. Have you ever felt someone's presence without even seeing them? As if the sound of their footsteps, or the way they breathe, is enough to know. Without a single doubt, I turn my head, just in time to come face-to-face with the stranger I’ve been thinking about all week. Life always had a strange sense of humour with me, like a cat playing with a mouse, dragging things out for fun. So of course, the only man who’s struck my attention in years ends up right here, like a punchline the universe set up just for me. All I’ve asked for the last six years is to live the quietest, saddest life possible. I’ve been asked on dates since then. I’d even go as far as to say I’ve been courted by kind, smart guys from Lakeside who genuinely tried. But I always acted cold, pushing them away. Wished, silently, that they would run from me, from the disease that I am. And that tall, handsome, mountain of muscle called Officer Parkson seems to be the definition of temptation. Which is exactly why staying away is the logical, smart thing to do.

“Bella, stop pointing,” I beg in a whisper. “He’s a new cop, that’s all.” I try to sound casual, but my best friend turns dramatically to face me.

“You know him?”

“No, I don’t. He just came by the shop last week. He was looking for… Um, whatever, he said his name, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” Only my eyes betray me. Locked onto him despite the crowd. Like magnets caught in some twisted pull of fate, his brown eyes meet mine and hold. It’s so intense I could combust on sight.

“Well, well, well,” Bella chuckles, “looks like it wasn’t totally nothing.” She grins, running a hand through her ponytail. I look away like I’ve been burned, fidgeting with the books on the display table, but there’s only so much you can do in a five-square-meter stand. Turning my back to the crowd, I focus on putting out pencils for the writing workshop.

“Laska,” Bella whispers loudly, “he’s coming. He’s walking toward us. Come on, turn around.” She comes near me and I straighten up instantly, preventing her from coming closer.

“Talking never killed anyone, you know that, right?” She smiles at me kindly, and for a second, I wonder if she knows what I’ve done and if she’d still be my friend if she did. I take a deep breath. Acting silly isn’t going to change anything. He’s probably not interested in books and girls who struggle to hold hands, so my personality should be enough to push him away.

“Yes, you’re right.” I try to smile back at her, nodding and pulling a strand of my brown hair behind my ear. It’s so long, it brushes the lower part of my back. Turning toward the crowd, I’m met with the most intoxicating view: Officer Parkson and Jared, the local police officer, who also happens to be Bella’s older brother. Both are standing in front of us, hands on their belts in their navy uniforms.

“Hey girls, how’s it going?” says Jared cheerfully, stepping into the booth while his teammate remains where he is.

“Good. Alaska just finished setting up her tent. It’s nice, don’t you think?” Bella starts the conversation with Jared while I try my best to think of something smart to say. But I can’t focus. I really can’t, because the stranger I saw last week is staring at me silently, his gaze burning holes into my face. He’s tall and wide, filling his shirt to the max with what I assume are carved and thick muscles. His face is straight out of my romance books: short, blond, ashy hair with a light stubble, a square jaw, and a straight nose. He reminds me of those Greek god statues I saw in a history book at school. There’s a coldness to him and at the same time, a certainty. As if he could pierce you and know all your deepest secrets.

“Real nice, Alaska. You should go and see what the others did too. There’s a chocolate fountain over there.” Jared points to the left side, outside the tent. “And a wood-cutting workshop at Callahan and Hartwood. We just saw a bunch of kids making cutting boards.” He grins, his short black hair and warm skin adding to his charm. Jared’s single, but he’s known to be quite popular with young women. I wonder why he never gave anyone a chance. Any girl would be lucky to be with him.

“Sounds great. Maybe I’ll keep the tent while you check it out, Laska?” says Bella, insisting on my name as if I needed to be brought back to reality. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“I…” I try.

“By the way, guys, I forgot to introduce you to our new colleague. Officer Parkson. He’s here for a year, came straight from big Minneapolis,” Jared says, his chest rising at the mention of the city. Only a year? Why? A deep tone breaks my daze.

“We already m-met,” he states, his voice burning my skin. Just like last time, he crosses his arms on his chest, flexing his muscles as he speaks.

“You did? When? Didn’t take you for the bookish kind,” Jared scoffs, glancing back and forth between us.