Before this horrifying moment, I’d wished I could fly, breathe underwater, or become invisible.
But right there, standing at the table where Jacob and Della Wild sat frozen in sadness, I wished I could stomp on the ‘stop’ button, crank the ‘rewind’ lever, and prevent myself from ever coming over here.
Dad hadn’t wanted to.
He said their conversation looked private, and I should wait until tomorrow when he dropped me off at Cherry Equestrian for my weeklong stay with them.
But I’d been too impatient.
I’d wanted to see Jacob again.
I’d wanted to recall all those delicious, terrifying, addicting, awakening moments when he’d forced me to ride his horse.
He needed to know how much he changed me.
How much he’d taught me in that one ride.
But now, I wanted the ground to gobble me up and never exist as Jacob’s dark gaze turned a brilliant black, hard and glittering like some nasty gemstone. “Hope Jacinta Murphy.”
I gulped, backing into Dad as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I didn’t deserve comforting. I’d just done the worst possible thing.
Della Wild looked at me with eyes the colour of oceans. Her cheeks so wet it seemed as if those oceans were pouring out of her and would flood the diner. When she noticed Dad behind me, she rubbed her face, her voice hitching in apology. “Oh, Graham. Hi.”
Jacob silently plucked the silver scarf from the table and passed it to her.
Della gave him a grimace, took it, and used it to wipe her liquid-slicked cheeks. On the table something blue glinted along with paper and a green box.
“God, Della. I’m so sorry we intruded,” Dad said. “We’ll go.” Pulling me backward, he muttered an excuse as if he could fix what I’d broken. “We’re in town a night early. Staying at the Aces Hotel under my grandparents’ name Duffal. If you, uh, need to get hold of us, that is.” Tugging me harder, I tripped a little, still mortified and horrified and staring at Jacob.
Staring at the unmasked panic on his face, the unbridled rage, the untempered despair. Somehow, I understood he felt as guilty as I did. That it wasn’t just me who wanted a rewind button or magical trap door.
But what did he feel so guilty about?
“No, no. It’s fine. Don’t be silly,” Jacob’s Mom said with another hitch. “We were just celebrating Jacob’s graduation.” She smiled bright and brittle, forcing happiness that wasn’t real. “How nice to see you again, Hope.”
It didn’t look like they were celebrating.
It looked like they were at a funeral.
Had someone died?
And if so…how?
My terrible mind that fixated on death tried to drown me with unmentionable questions.
I shrank against Dad. “I’m sorry for coming over. I just saw Jacob and wanted to tell him…” I had nothing else. My voice trailed into silence.
“Tell him what?” Della swiped at another tear and crumpled up a note in her hand.
“Um…” I glanced at Jacob who no longer looked at me but the table full of used condiments and melting ice-cream sundaes. “I-I…don’t remember.”
I did remember.
I remembered every word.
I’d wanted to say them for an entire year, but how could I cough up such things when I was an intruder on something I didn’t understand?
Instead, I made an even bigger mistake by pointing at the green box. I wanted the attention off me. I didn’t think what I was doing by directing it onto something else. “What’s that?”
“Hope.” Dad’s fingers dug into my shoulder. “That’s none of your business.”
“But it’s a present.” I turned to face him, begging him to help me repair this. “Presents make people happy, right? Maybe someone should open it.”
Jacob muttered something not nice under his breath as Della sighed heavily. “You’re right. It is a present, Hope.” Her gaze landed on her son. “And Jacob should open it. After all, I just opened one from the same giver.”
Jacob froze. His eyes locked on the box. “You mean…it’s from him?”
His mom nodded, biting her lip to stem more tears.
“Right, well, we’re leaving now,” Dad announced loudly, reminding the Wilds that this wasn’t a private moment for them. That they had an audience. But either Jacob no longer cared or he couldn’t stop himself because he snatched the box, tore the paper, and opened it before I could catch my breath.
He tipped a large silver disc into his hand, fisting it tight. His head bowed as he inspected it.
Despite myself, I leaned forward, desperate to know what it was.
“A compass,” he breathed. Turning it over, his face scrunched with pain. His thumb ran over an inscription. “If school isn’t your path, then find your true one. Wander far. Wander wide. This compass will make sure you never get lost.”
Della pressed her face into the silver scarf again. Her body shook as a slicing sound of heartbreak made my hair stand on end.