Authors: Andrea Cremer
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Science Fiction
“The library must be left alone,” he said. “That is my only restric-tion on your residence here and I expect you to honor that rule.”
I nodded, keeping my eyes averted.
A polite cough sounded in the doorway. Thomas offered me a thin smile.
“Master Bosque, your guests have arrived.”
“Excellent.” Bosque strode from the room, passing Thomas and leaving me standing alone, still lost in thoughts about what kind of family I came from and how I was supposed to live in this gigantic place all alone.
“Master Shay.” I looked up when Thomas addressed me, frowning at the formal and disconcerting title. His smile was sym-pathetic. “Pardon me, sir. Shay—will you follow me to the dining room?”
I shrugged, trailing after Thomas and wondering what friends of my uncle could be like. A minute later I had my answer: Uncle Bosque had friends that worked as models for Armani. At least that’s what they looked like. I assumed the pair were father and son, but I couldn’t pin down how old the senior member of the party was. His face didn’t look quite old enough for him to be the father of the boy who was clearly my age. They both had blond hair that Rumples-tiltskin could have spun.
Bosque waved me over. “Shay! I’d like you to meet dear family friends. This is Efron Bane and his son, Logan.”
Efron extended his hand. His grip was firm and his smile blind-ing in its perfect whiteness.
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“Welcome to Vail.” He pushed his son toward me. “My son has been anticipating your arrival. You’ll be in school together.”
Logan looked like he was fighting not to roll his eyes.
“You’re a senior?”
Logan managed to partially hide his sigh, but not the boredom in his barely polite smile. “Yes.”
I decided to make one more attempt at friendliness. “I hate to admit it, but I’m really dying to start school. Life’s kinda boring without it. Who knew?”
“I heard there was a delay,” he said, apparently not amused by my joke. “But the Mountain School has rigorous admissions standards. I’m sure you understand.”
“Mmmmmm” was all I could muster in response. Logan and I were not cut from the same cloth, and he was starting to piss me off after two minutes of conversation. The hole of loneliness that had been living beneath my ribs started to grow.
“Let’s take our places, shall we?” Bosque moved to the chair at the head of the table. He gestured for me to sit on his left while Efron and Logan sat opposite me.
The moment we were gathered at the table, the doors to the kitchen swung open and a swarm of uniformed staff were piling silver chafing dishes before us. My vision of the
Beowulf
kitchen didn’t seem too far off. Even if we weren’t an army, they were going to feed us like one. As one by one the lids were whisked off serving platters, my mouth watered. The scent of the food that filled the air was irresistible. My uncle favored a hunting theme in his dining room as well as his lounge; the meal was dominated by meats: suckling pig, braised venison, and roast pheasant were accompanied by sautéed vegetables and steaming mounds of whipped potatoes.
I hadn’t noticed until that moment that I was starving. Since I had moved to food nirvana, I giddily heaped slabs of meat and a 27
huge spoonful of potatoes on my plate until it was full. The vegetables could wait. Logan watched me scarfing down food, his mouth twisted in disgust as if he’d been forced to dine with a Neanderthal.
But Efron and my uncle both looked delighted as I ate with abandon.
Bosque nodded in approval when I gave him a thumbs-up. He turned to Efron.
“As you’re aware, much to my regret I cannot remain here with my nephew.” He gestured toward Logan. “I’m trusting you’ll help Shay get settled into his life in Vail.”
“We wouldn’t dream of having it any other way,” Efron said.
I nodded my thanks at him while musing that pheasant might be the most delicious meat I’d ever tasted.
“The estate is a bit out of the way.” Logan was picking at his own food. “He’ll need a car to get into town and to school, of course.”
“That’s true,” Bosque said. “I’m not storing any cars here at the moment. I hadn’t thought of that when I made the arrangements for Shay to come here.”
I tried to say, “I’ll figure something out.” But it came out as,
“Irmlfugshmt,” because my mouth was so full.
Efron turned to his son. “You’ve been favoring the Lotus. You could lend Shay your Mercedes CL600.”
Logan shrugged and looked at me as if expecting me to melt with gratitude, but I spluttered, “No, no. That’s okay.” I was pretty much relieved I hadn’t spit mashed potatoes on him.
The golden-haired boy arched his eyebrow. “You’d prefer something else? We also have a BMW, if you don’t mind last year’s model.”
I was desperate to convince myself that I’d only imagined his shudder of disgust.
“I’m not really into cars,” I said, trying to figure out a way to get out of this without offending anyone. The offer was generous, but I wanted to feel out Vail and find my place here. Making first impres-28
sions with flashy wheels wasn’t my style. And if townie–boarding school relations were as bad here as they were in some places I’d lived, I knew that driving through town in a brand-new car wasn’t the way to make friends. “I can find something on my own.”
“forgive my nephew,” Bosque said, smiling at Logan. “He fancies himself something of a bohemian.”
“Ah,” Logan said, pursing his lips.
Efron gave his son a chastising glance. “Whatever makes Shay comfortable, of course.”
“Of course,” Logan repeated, studying the steaming slices of rare beef on his plate with disdain.
I was getting tired of being talked about like I wasn’t in the room.
“I’d rather have something that can take a beating. I may need to go off road.”
Logan chewed on his meat, eyeing me. “Off road where?”
“Anywhere,” I said. “I’ll head for the best hiking spots. Sometimes it takes a rough road to get to them.”
Efron and Logan exchanged a glance.
Bosque smiled at me but shot a stern glance at Efron. “Seamus is an experienced hiker. He won’t find trouble. There’s no need to be concerned.”
“If you’re certain,” Efron said. He pointed the tip of his steak knife at me. “It’s more of a wilderness around here than you’d imagine. Keep that in mind when you’re exploring.”
“Always do,” I said. “I’ll read up on the terrain before I head out.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t offer to accompany you,” Logan said.
“Outdoor pursuits have never been able to hold my interest.”
There’s a shocker.
“No worries,” I said. “I’m used to hiking alone.”
“An independent spirit,” Efron said. “How charming.”
Logan’s mouth curved up, but his smile made me feel like he was enjoying a joke at my expense.
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“But surely you’d enjoy spending some time at the country club,”
Efron said. “Logan and his friends while away the hours there.”
“It sounds like he’d be better off running with the wolves than joining me at the club,” Logan said with a snicker.
“Logan!” Bosque’s clipped tone froze Logan in his seat. He blanched, shuddering like a rabbit cornered by hounds. Efron gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white with tension.
I forced a laugh. “No, no. He’s right. I wouldn’t fit in at any country club. I can’t swing a golf club to save my life.”
Bosque’s gaze slid my way. “You’re quite forgiving. I do not appreciate rudeness at the expense of my family.”
“My sincerest apologies,” Logan whispered. “I didn’t mean—”
“Seriously.” I appreciated that my uncle wanted to keep me happy, but he was taking things a little far. “Not a big deal.”
“I’m sure Shay will find his niche,” Efron said quietly.
Bosque relaxed back into his chair. “He will indeed.”
Logan stared at his plate. His hands were still shaking.
After that, dessert was tense at best, with conversation limited to Efron updating my uncle about some new real estate development in Vail. I was relieved when Efron declined my uncle’s offer of an after-dinner cigar. I didn’t think I could take any more of their company. Logan hadn’t managed to make eye contact with me or my uncle since Bosque’s outburst. Even if he could, I was pretty convinced Efron’s son and I had nothing to talk about.
But when we said our good-byes at the door, Logan paused beside me and reached into his pocket.
“Please,” he said as he pressed a card into my hand. “If you need anything.”
“Sure,” I said, barely managing to keep a straight face.
Who the
hell has business cards at age eighteen?
If this guy was what all the students at my new school were like, my senior year was going to blow. Big time.
30
four
W
it turned out I had to use Logan’s card the very next day.
I pulled myself out of bed at 9 a.m. If I’d known that was the last decent night’s sleep I would get at Rowan Estate, I would have slept longer. Uncle Bosque was already gone by the time I wandered into the kitchen with a growling stomach. A note waited for me on the giant island.
Early flight. Be well.
So much for family reunions.
If I was worried about having to hunt down breakfast, it was for nothing. The immense Sub-Zero fridge was stocked with fresh fruit, milk, yogurt, cheeses, and meats. I found bread and an abundance of nonperishables in the pantry. I made a note that at least I was in the best-possible situation should the apocalypse occur. My only disappointment was that I’d been hoping for some leftover pheasant, but apparently leftovers weren’t permissible at Rowan Estate. I could find no evidence of last night’s feast in the fridge, though I knew we’d barely made a dent in the food that had been set before us.
I threw a sandwich together and headed back to my room.
Though I could have eaten in the kitchen or in any other of the hundreds of rooms in the mansion, I felt uneasy outside my bedroom, like an animal that only feels safe in its den.
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Before heading to Craigslist to look for wheels, I popped onto facebook.
Whoa. Seriously. How did all these people find me?
I scrolled through the comments, chewing and smiling. I almost choked a couple of times, startled by the appearance of people I hadn’t seen in years. I didn’t know if it was my stomach getting full or the sight of familiar faces and greetings from around the world, but I felt a little better.
Reminded of all my globe-trotting, I decided to go one better and post some of my favorite photos from places I’d lived. Instead of labeling them, I made a game of it, asking my friends to tell me where I’d been. I figured that was more interesting to everyone than if I’d just left a slide show of my moves for all to see.
Satisfied that Ally couldn’t harass me for neglecting her “keep-Shay-socially-involved” project, I moved on to my main goal of the day: transportation. It didn’t take long to find what I was hoping for.
A used truck, not too big but with enough room for my gear if I was heading out for a serious climb. The price was right; plus, it was already beat up and I didn’t want to buy anything that was too pretty to bump around poorly maintained trailheads.
I called the number listed and the gruff-voiced man at the other end of the line said he’d hold the truck for me but only for the day. As I dialed Logan’s number, I tried to forget how much I hadn’t liked him.
“Yes?” He already sounded bored.
“Hey, Logan, it’s Shay,” I said.
“Yes, Shay. How may I help you?”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t ask him if he was training to be a concierge. After clearing my throat a couple times to make sure I’d gotten rid of all that brewing sarcasm, I said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you could give me a ride somewhere.”
There was a pause, then he said, “Of course. What time should I pick you up?”
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• • •
As much as I didn’t relish the idea of spending any more time with Logan Bane, I had to admire his timeliness. He pulled up in a sleek, silver Mercedes at exactly 11:00 a.m. When I climbed into the pas-senger seat, he half smiled.
“Good morning,” he said. Logan was wearing a crisp white shirt with a black cashmere sweater draped around his shoulders.
I was about to ask when his polo match was and then I realized he’d probably take the question seriously. from the way he smirked at my crumpled jeans and hiking boots, he didn’t think much of my wardrobe either.
“Morning,” I said. “I wrote down the address.”
He took the slip of paper and frowned. “We aren’t going to a dealership?”
“Nah,” I said. “There’s a truck I’m just going to take off someone’s hands. I don’t need to bother with a dealership.”
“Mmmmmm” was his reply.
I was impressed that we managed to have a conversation, if a completely uninteresting one, about all the real estate Logan’s father owned in town, that lasted the duration of the trip.
“That’s it; turn here.” I broke into his explanation of luxury housing developments, pointing at the tired-looking blue pickup with a for Sale sign tucked beneath its windshield wipers.