So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2] (15 page)

Read So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2] Online

Authors: Cecelia Gray

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2]
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Ellie walked up to the railing and rested her elbows against it. "I’ll miss the ocean."

"Guatemala has an ocean," Emma said.

"We won’t be near the coast."

"Guatemala means
land of trees
, you know," Lizzie offered.

Emma smirked. "Too bad it doesn’t mean
land of hot guys
."

"Chocolate was invented in Guatemala," Lizzie said. "That’s pretty hot."

"So was the number zero," Ellie added. "By the Mayans."

"So were blue jeans—like thank you, Guatemala, right?" Emma said.

Their heads swung to Anne.

"What?" She shrugged. "Sorry, I didn’t get the memo to Google Guatemala before the trip."

They all laughed.

"Your place is beautiful," Ellie said.

"Thank you." Anne leaned against the railing, her back to the wind. "But it’s not like I bought it."

"Take a compliment." Emma rested her palm over her eyes so she wouldn’t squint against the setting sun.

"I just mean . . . it’s not like I get to keep it. Just like with the school. It was my parents’—but it won’t be mine."

"The school should be yours. It should be run by people who care about it. Who care about its students." Lizzie stared determinedly at the coast.

"Bergie cares," Ellie said, thinking back to Bergie’s disappointment in her in the kitchen.

"Ellie!" Lizzie said. "Shut your mouth."

"Well . . . she does," Ellie said. "She really wanted to find a way to help me."

"She’s not the owner, anyway." Lizzie brushed the comment aside. "Dante’s parents don’t care, so they shouldn’t own the school. Anne should be the owner. Anne
will
be the owner."

"Don’t make promises you can’t keep," Anne said softly.

"Let’s not argue," Ellie said. "Let’s just . . . not. We have a few minutes before the guys get here, and before Edward and Lucy arrive. Let’s just pretend for a bit—that this isn’t the last weekend. That the school didn’t change hands. That there are no boys. That it’s just us."

They all smiled as they went quiet and leaned back into the wind.

"You know," Emma said, "when that was all true—when Jasta was all girls, when Anne’s parents were in charge—we weren’t friends."

Lizzie smiled and nodded in agreement. She took Ellie’s hand. Emma leaned her head on Anne’s shoulder.

Ellie felt like she did the first time the four of them climbed the tree together. She felt the power of their friendship and their togetherness. She believed, for a little while anyway, that they could overcome anything.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was complete chaos.

Rick and Dante fired up the grill on the deck. Anne tossed greens while Lizzie chopped vegetables at a prep counter next to the grill. Emma obsessed over the perfect table setting for the long dining-room table, to the point where she found decorative ribbons to tie around the chairs like they were at some fancy wedding.

Ellie went into the kitchen to find plates.

"Here, let me."

She turned as Edward came up behind her and reached over her to open the cupboard. He stood close, but diverted his gaze as he pulled out plates. "You’re probably sick of looking at dishes."

"I’m going to eat off banana leaves from here on out," she deadpanned.

Edward glanced down, then realized she was kidding and snorted as he opened the drawer to pull out forks.

Ellie was relieved when Lucy joined them, wide-eyed with glee. "This getaway is amazing! You guys know how to overdo everything. I love it."

Ellie went back to the dining room just as Emma lit the two long, tapered candles.

"Seat of honor," Emma said, pulling back the chair at the head of the table.

"Why, thank you." Ellie slipped into the seat and scooted forward. "Who gets the other seat of honor? Anne?"

"Me, of course," Emma said. "For this being my brilliant idea."

Lizzie and Anne carried in the salad from outside and set it on the table as Lucy and Edward joined from the kitchen with the plates and forks and knives. Lizzie and Anne ended up sitting on either side of her while Lucy and Edward flanked Emma—leaving the two middle seats on either side open.

Ellie did the math—Dante would sit between Edward and Lizzie, leaving Rick to sit next to Anne.

She knew the moment the realization dawned on everyone else, because Anne’s fingers trembled, Lizzie glanced worriedly at the deck, and Emma shot up in her seat.

"On the other hand," Emma said, "I want to sit closer to you, Ellie." She took the seat next to Anne just as Rick and Dante came in with the burgers from the grill.

Rick sat at the other end of the table across from Ellie, oblivious to all the drama. As they served up salad and burgers, Ellie covertly watched him.

It wasn’t a chore—Rick was easy to look at—with dark hair, tanned features, and green eyes that looked like they belonged on a model, and an easy, confident air that must have come from his time in the military academy before he transferred to Jasta.

Anne said he’d always been take-charge, been so sure of himself, even when they were kids and in love.

Rick and Anne had grown up together, had fallen in love—just like Edward and Lucy. How could she wish Rick and Anne could be together while hoping for Edward and Lucy to break up?

"May I propose a toast," Lizzie said, raising her glass. "To Ellie. The
best
best friend a girl could have."

"The best roommate," Emma added, raising her glass.

"The best skateboard teacher," Anne said.

"The best math tutor," Dante said.

One by one they raised their glasses as Ellie felt tears prickling at her cheeks.

"The best welcoming committee," Lucy said shyly.

All eyes turned to Edward. He raised his glass, his eyes dark on hers, "The best girl."

Ellie looked away quickly as the table cheered, but not before she caught Lucy’s horrified expression. She took a long drink.

 

* * *

 

"This is supposed to be the perfect beach weekend," Emma said as they finished clearing plates in the kitchen, which was crowded as all eight of them tried to fit.

"It has been." Ellie squeezed Emma and Lizzie’s hands.

"Not yet." Emma reached into a laundry bag on the floor that Ellie had assumed was filled with games. She pulled out a handful of neon tubes with flares. "Not until fireworks!"

"Yes!" Dante pumped his fist.

"Enough for all of us?" Rick leaned over to peer into the bag.

Emma pulled the bag shut and behind her back. "If you’re good. You can start by building us a fire on the beach while we get the s’mores supplies."

The three guys dutifully headed outside, leaving the girls in the kitchen.

"Hot chocolate, too?" Anne asked. "I’m sure my parents have some."

"I’d love to help," Lucy chimed in.

While Anne searched for hot chocolate, Ellie poured milk into a pot to warm on the stove. Lucy pulled mugs from the cupboard and set them on a tray. Lizzie and Anne broke off pieces of chocolate and placed them between two graham crackers—ready for a toasty, warm marshmallow to melt between them.

"This needs some whisking," Anne said as she scooped spoonfuls of chocolate shavings into the pot of milk. Ellie quickly stirred.

Lucy held out a mug. "Here."

Ellie watched her carefully—trying to catch any sign that Lucy was mad at her, but it was like Edward’s toast had never happened. They poured the chocolate milk into the mugs and then Lucy picked up the tray, carefully balancing the cups.

"Think the boys have made fire?" Emma asked.

"Yes," Anne answered with a small smile. "Rick is very good at making fire."

"What a Boy Scout," Emma said.

They walked out of the kitchen, shoulder to shoulder. Ellie felt something catch in her throat—could the night be any more perfect? Then Emma said, "Wait—the skewers for the marshmallows!"

"I’ll get them." Ellie needed a moment to compose herself.

She scooted back into the kitchen and rested against the kitchen counter. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and took three deep breaths, blinking her eyes to chase away any more fresh tears.

She would get through this weekend without any crying hysterics.

She would make new friends in Guatemala.

She would. Maybe she could find someone who was as thoughtful and fun as Emma. As smart and driven as Lizzie. As sweet and kind as Anne.

At least she had email and texts and video chats to get her through the rest of the year.

"Ellie."

Ellie gasped and turned at the sound of Edward’s voice.

He stood framed in the kitchen doorway. His feet were coated in sand and grains dotted his calves. She looked into his brown eyes and saw the same expression . . . the one . . . the one that had gotten her into trouble because she thought it meant more than it did.

She wiped at her cheeks. "I’ve almost found the skewers." She yanked drawers until she found them and pulled them out. She held the skewers between them, as if it they would protect her from the feelings roiling inside her.

Edward gently pried the skewers from her hands and set them on the counter. "That’s not why I’m here."

She took a step away, her back pressed against the countertop, and braced herself. "Then what do you want?" She winced at how she sounded—almost angry.

"There’s so much I want to say, but there never seems to be time." Edward rested his hands on the counter on either side of her hips, trapping her between his arms.

Her breath caught.

"We should get back," he said. "Four million seconds are almost gone—they went too fast."

"We’re down to three hundred thousand." Her hands fluttered at her sides. What was Edward doing? She didn’t know where to go, or what to say. If she moved in any direction, she’d be in his arms.

He grabbed her hands. His skin was chilled from being outside, but heat rolled between them. "No time," he repeated.

His puppy-eyed gaze was so serious and dark, it was burning into her. Her heartbeat slowed—in fact everything seemed to slow. He stepped closer, their hips touching. He bowed his head and brushed his lips against her knuckles, sending patterns of heat licking up her arms.

Her gaze was drawn to the open doorway—where Lucy was walking toward the kitchen.

Ellie’s heart kicked up and with it everything returned to full speed. She pulled away her hands, spun around, and grabbed the skewers.

"Thank you," she said loudly, shoving him back, ignoring his shocked expression. "Yes, you can carry the skewers." Then she blew by him and locked her arms around Lucy’s elbow, pulling the confused girl away from the kitchen and toward the door to the beach. "I’m starving," she announced. "I may have to eat ten s’mores."

 

* * *

 

"You okay, Ellie?" Lizzie whispered as she stepped onto the deck and closed the French doors with a click behind her.

It was nearly dawn—they had stayed up all night eating s’mores and setting off fireworks. Then just lying back on the cool sand and talking.

Lucy had begged off first. Then Rick. Anne followed shortly thereafter. Edward actually fell asleep on the beach, as if he’d been trying to fight exhaustion to stay up, so Dante picked him up to carry him to their room, threatening anyone who dared to take a picture. Emma had wimped out next—beauty sleep, she’d claimed.

Leaving just Ellie and Lizzie.

Her whole Jane Austen Academy experience had started with Lizzie. It was fitting it would end with her, too.

"Ellie," Lizzie prodded again. "Seriously—you okay?"

Ellie nodded, putting her nostalgia to rest, and patted the railing next to her. Her legs gently scissored back and forth in the wind over the ledge. Lizzie climbed up beside her.

"Can you believe this place?" Lizzie glanced back at the beach house. "You should see Rick’s place, too. Makes Anne’s beach house look like a toilet."

"It must be nice."

"I used to think they were different."

"Rich people?" Ellie asked with a wry smile.

"Yeah." She glanced at the
For Sale
sign on the railing. "Still . . . must be nice."

Ellie breathed in the salty ocean air. If she leaned forward, just a bit, she’d fall over with a crash into the ocean. "I used to think that if I stayed long enough in the ocean, I’d turn into a mermaid."

"That’s so
you
, Ellie."

"That’s
so
six years old." Ellie laughed.

Lizzie smiled back. "Everyone should have a dream."

"Turning into a mermaid isn’t a dream—it’s a delusion—at best."

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