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Authors: Stassi Evers

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BOOK: Stone Cold
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*****

 

Saturday. No school and it was a good thing because she was still unfocused from all that had happened the day before. 

Her Internet search gave her
the school address and also a general email address. She decided the only thing she could do at this point was to send an email to the office personnel asking them to give a copy of it to Conall. After all, she doubted there were many boys in that particular school with the name Conall. Her guess was few to only one. 

Her hands shook a little as she
began the email.

 

“Dear Office Staff at Central Park East High School 555:

 

My name is Hannah Perry and I’m trying to find a boy who is possibly a student at your school named Conall. He was wearing a royal blue jacket with a CPEHS 555 patch. We met yesterday on the ferry to Ellis Island but were not able to exchange contact information or even last names for that matter. 

 

I would like for you to give him this email if at all possible. 

 

Thank you for your time and help.

 

Sincerely,

 

Hannah Perry

Cell: 212-555-1212

 

Conall,

 

If you get this email, m
y mom and I always visit my aunt who lives in NYC on April 16 every year but we missed it this year because of the field trip so we’re going on June 30 instead. If you can make it and want to see me again, I’ll be in Battery Park at the benches in the Bosque Garden near the ferry landing at 1:00 P.M. on that day. Let’s hope we can both be there because if not, we’re just going to have to try again next year on April 16 at the same time and place and every year after that until we finally meet if that’s what it takes. All joking aside, I’ll be wearing an athletic jacket that has my first name on the back so I’m easier to find. I can’t give out my address until we know each other better but you can call me. My email address should be on this printout too.

 

Can’t wait until June 30.

 

Talk to you soon,

 

Hannah Perry”

 

As a last touch, Hannah put her picture on the email to remind him of who she was.

When she was finished, her
index finger hovered above the send key for what seemed like an eternity.

She
reasoned with herself aloud.


Should I or shouldn’t I?  Consider the pros and cons.

Pros:
Conall will receive the information and write back and we’ll become good friends or hopefully even more. We’ll probably be able to visit each other here or there.

Cons:
The email will be laughed at and discarded before being given to him.  He’ll receive the information but decide he doesn’t want to ever talk to or see me again. Worse yet, he won’t remember having met me at all.”

Just as she had that last thought, Hannah’s cell phone rang and she
jumped while inadvertently pressing the send button on her computer. Any second thoughts about sending that email were dust in the wind. It was on its way and the waiting game was on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Administrative assistant
Liz Tanner was finishing up her morning attendance duties in the office of Central Park East High School.  After that, it was her responsibility to open the general email account to review and route the incoming messages to their respective destinations.

She was excited about her upcoming lunch plans later
that day with her boyfriend David Lansing.  He was on leave after being away for six months in the Navy.  He said he wanted to talk to her about something very important and she was almost certain he was going to propose. 

There were 50 emails to read and route, which would take her the rest of the morning to complete.  Liz tackled one after another until only one remained.  It was five minutes before her lunch break when she opened the email from Hannah Perry. 

The message made an immediate impression on Liz. Maybe it was because she was giddy with the idea of what she thought was going to happen over lunch, or maybe because she knew the exact boy Hannah was seeking.  Either way, with a smile on her face, she printed the email on a piece of bright pink paper before deleting it and logging off. Liz had to leave but planned on delivering the email to Conall Stone when she returned from lunch.  Pink paper would probably embarrass a boy like him but she thought this occasion called for it. The girl who wrote this must have really been smitten to go to so much trouble to find him.

She mused aloud
, “Who am I to stand in the way of young love?”

With no time to waste, she folded the paper and kept it in her hand to show her boyfriend the sweet message.

“I’m going to lunch now and when I get back
remind me to show you this adorable note I received for one of our students. He met a girl on the Ellis Island ferry during yesterday’s field trip and now she’s trying to find him!” Liz gushed to her coworker Tracy, holding up the pink paper for her to see on her way out the door.  

The streets were heavy with pedestrians
and traffic as Liz made her way block by block to her lunch destination.  Thinking about love, she couldn’t resist the temptation to read the email again and unfolded the paper as she walked.  

Distracted as she read
the message, Liz stepped off the curb into the path of an oncoming cab. She looked up just in time to see the cab racing toward her. There wasn’t enough time for her to escape the impact of what was about to happen. She closed her eyes and clutched the paper to her heart as her body was struck and thrown into the air. She landed on the curb some twenty feet away, hitting her head on the pavement. As Liz went in and out of consciousness, her hand that held the paper relaxed. People rushed to help her but no one noticed the paper as it slipped from her hand, rested on the street, and was trampled by those who frantically tried to save her. The air current from the passing traffic blew the paper toward a nearby storm drain where it was trampled yet again by the steady stream of business people oblivious to the accident that had just occurred.

For one split second Liz op
ened her eyes and saw the faint outline of a man in a black trench coat standing several feet away holding a piece of bright pink paper. Even with blurred vision she knew it was the one that belonged to Conall.

“I need that paper sir,” Liz managed to whisper
. She briefly locked eyes with him, one arm extended in his direction, before everything went black.

Liz remained in a coma for s
everal weeks. She remembered nothing from that day. Her boyfriend proposed after she woke up but nothing she did helped her remember what made her step into the street before she was hit. At this point, the not knowing was so frustrating to her she would do anything to uncover the mystery. She retraced what she assumed was her path on the street that day from the school to the scene of the accident but nothing seemed familiar. She returned to work and tried to piece it all together. She was still unable to recall the events of that day and what she did that morning before she left for lunch. There was a Post It note on her desk with the name Conall Stone written on it in her handwriting.

“Why did I write this? Why did I write Conall
Stone’s name on a sticky note?” Liz pondered the note as she gently traced her fingers over her own writing. After about the fiftieth pass she decided she had no choice but to get permission to question Conall.

Liz also did
n’t remember that the cab didn’t actually hit her even after witnesses explained what really happened.

As she
was about to step into the street a young man wearing a royal blue jacket, known only as the Mystery Boy in news reports, intentionally ran into her with so much force that they both were thrown clear of the cab. He left the scene so fast that no one was able to get his name.

There was one other person however, who slipped away unnoticed by anyone at the scene
, who held the answers Liz was searching for.

 

*****

Annoyed by the chaos which caused him to be late to his destination, the cab’s passenger
emerged from the vehicle. A cell phone to his ear, he was wearing a black trench coat over what appeared to be a black Ermenegildo Zegna suit, and reflective sunglasses. He looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of G.Q. magazine. His dark hair was perfectly coiffed. Everything was designer and perfect from head to toe.


This is Jack Barnes. Plans have changed. There’s been an unexpected delay so I won’t be able to pick up the girl and transport her as planned. My client is going to be very upset that he has to wait longer to get what he paid for so make sure you take care of this right away. Call my secretary to cancel my flight and reschedule it for tomorrow.”

Jack
abruptly ended the call. Through the commotion, he coolly glanced at Liz just in time to see the pink paper in her hand drift in the breeze as she released her grip.

He instinctively
lunged deftly for the paper but before he could grab it, it was underfoot, went airborne, and then found its way to a nearby storm drain.  His eyes darted smoothly between Liz and the paper as he weaved his way unnoticed through the crowd of street-crossers.

This delay had lessened to a minor inconvenience for Jack. He’d become very curious and determined to find out what was so interesting on that piece of paper which he guessed, had made a woman nearly lose her life.

The paper
was dangerously close to falling into the storm drain when Jack decided it was time to make his move. As he bent over to pick it up a Nike clad foot landed sharply on top of the paper. Jack gently but firmly tried to nudge the shoe from the paper but it remained still. As he arose he came face to face with a nervous looking young boy with wavy, sandy brown hair wearing a royal blue jacket.


Could you please move your…,” no sooner had Jack begun to speak did the boy, clearly intimidated, turn and run away through the crowd. With no time to think about what just happened, Jack bent down and grabbed the paper. As he stood, he locked eyes with Liz for one last split second.

“I need that paper sir,” Jack read her lips as he
tucked it inside his coat pocket. For one second, he hesitantly looked around, wondering if anyone had heard her last words before she lost consciousness. When no one looked his way he hopped the curb and continued to walk briskly down the street. Only when he was several blocks from the scene of the accident did he dare to pull the paper from his pocket. Aside from a few dirty shoe prints and some holes, it appeared to be in surprisingly good condition.

Jack loo
ked around making sure he hadn’t been followed. With the exception of a few fast walking businessmen on their way back to the office post lunch, not a soul paid him any mind. 

His
fingers fumbled slightly as he began to unfold what had clearly become an important piece of paper to at least five people. The sender, the addressee, the accident victim, Jack, and the boy in the royal blue jacket were forever bound together by whatever was on this paper.

The usually cool
, calm, and collected Mr. Barnes appeared to be unnerved as he finally began to read from the paper now shaking in his hands.

 

“Dear Office Staff at Cen  al Pa  E s Hi    S   ol  555:

 

My    e is Hannah            and I’m trying to find a boy who is p   ibly a student at your school named Conall. He was wearing a royal                   et with a

C
   HS    5 patch. We    yesterday on the ferry to Ellis Island but were not able to e         ge contact info   tion or     last names for that matter. 

 

I would like for you to give him this email if at all possible. 

 

Thank you for your         help.

 

Sincerely,

 

Han       y

Cel

 

Conall,

 

If you g 
              ail, my mom and I always visit my aunt who lives in NYC on April 16 every year but we missed it this year because of the field trip so we’re going on June 30 instead. If you               it and want to see me again, I’ll be in Battery Park at the  enches in the Bosque Garden near t  e ferry

land ng a
t 1:00 P.M. on that day. Le             we can both be there because if not, we’re just going to have to try again next year on April 16 at the same time and place and every year after that until we finally meet if that’s what it takes. All joking aside, I’ll be wearing an athletic jacket t        s my first name on the back so I’m easier to find. I can’t give out my address until we know each oth  b      r but you can call me. My email address should             is printout too.

BOOK: Stone Cold
10.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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