Page 64 of Yearning Difficulties

Cyrano chuffed but then settled, seemingly very peaceful despite all of the antics from the night before. I continued to stroke his great head, grateful for how patient he was being with me. A regal, noble animal that had become agitated and lost control.

I knew how he felt. I sometimes felt like I was one fragile break away from curling into a ball and howling. The stress and pressure of school, doing a good job for Dad so his faire would look great in front of the town, as well as all of my mistakes with Killian – all of it was weighing on me, and it was getting too heavy.

The magazine interview flashed through my mind and I had to force it away.

‘He really likes you,’ Majors said.

I smirked. ‘You sound surprised.’

‘He’s particular. Has his people. Doesn’t like strangers too much. Has trouble making friends.’

I gave Old Man Majors a small conciliatory smile. ‘I know a bit about that.’

I wondered if he would brush off my statement and roll his eyes at me. But when I glanced back at him, he was watching me shrewdly.

‘I believe that. But I reckon you’ve got a friend in the one who pushed you out of his path.’

Killian.

I sniffed. ‘We used to be.’

‘Reckon you still are.’

‘No. He’s just a good person. Under all the snark.’

He let out a puff of disbelief at that but said nothing more about the matter. He nodded towards the other side of the field. A tall figure was walking our way.

‘My helper,’ Old Man Majors said. ‘Logan? Bring everyone in, the storm will be here soon.’

I looked up at Logan Minola and he gave me a curt nod in greeting. I helped him stable Cyrano and check that the rest of the horses were safely enclosed before offering him a lift back into town. He glanced up at the gathering clouds and accepted.

We didn’t speak as we walked to the car. I hadn’t known about him working at the stables. Most of the popular crew never worked. Old Man Majors wasn’t a soft boss and stable work was hard.

I was impressed.

We got into my dad’s old car and Logan said, ‘You can just drop me in the main square. I’ll walk home from there.’

‘If you like.’

‘Listen, Zella . . . I’m sorry about how Dave and the others have been acting.’

I cast him a sideways glance. ‘It’s fine. Makes me miss all of you a lot less.’

He gave me a small smile. ‘I bet.’

‘Not that you and I ever really spoke,’ I pointed out. ‘You’re a bit scary, you know?’

I started the engine and Cherry’s voice suddenly continued to play on the sound system. She was just singing the opening verse of ‘What’ll I Do’ as I reversed out of the makeshift parking space at the stables and onto the woodland road. I checked my mirrors and was about to attempt some small talk, when Logan’s hand shot to the volume control. I watched him turn it up, a haunted look on his face.

I understood. Cherry’s voice was special. The reverb she used on the track. The vulnerable, aching sweetness in her vibrato. It was siren-like.

‘Who is this?’

I turned to look at him. He was staring at the radio with an expression of disbelief, like the sound of the singing was the answer to a question he’d been asking for a long time.

‘That’s Cherry Petrucci,’ I said, speaking quietly because there was something reverent in his face and I didn’t want to disturb it. ‘Killian’s cousin.’

Logan’s head snapped up and he blinked at me. ‘What?’