Before You Go (YA Romance) (23 page)

A few minutes later, a nurse came in with a syringe.

“Miss Ford. How are you, dear?” When she didn’t speak, the woman patted her hand gently. “Your heart rate is a little high. I think you need some more Demerol.”

Margo nodded. Shut her eyes.

 
Epilogue

The Kerrigan School for Young Ladies spared nothing at Christmas time. For the Jewish students, it was Hanukah, of course, and Kerrigan observed that as well—with all students welcome to participate in celebrations for each holiday—so by the middle of December, they were exhausted from festivities and glad to migrate home for the annual Intermission.

The last weekend before Christmas, there was always a ballroom dance. This one was Margo’s first. She’d never been at Kerrigan for the holidays. As she sat at her dressing table, peering into a magnifying mirror and smoothing blusher on her cheeks, she couldn’t help remembering the previous December. Dressing with Molly, Hannah, and
Lakelyn
for the Great
Grapescapade
—a vineyard scavenger hunt followed by a midnight dance at her old school. She’d worn a soft green Prada gown and danced all night with her then-crush, Peter
Calman
.

“Do you know what color tie Alton is wearing?” Elizabeth’s question made Margo jump. She’d almost forgotten she wasn’t alone in the dorm room. She turned to face her roommate, who was perched at her own mirrored dressing table gluing on fake eyelashes Elizabeth called “beauty enhancements.”
 

“No. I don’t. I haven’t really talked to him since Sunday.”

Alton St. James was one of the
most well
-regarded guys at Kerrigan’s brother school, Maloney Prep. Margo had met him at
an equitation
several weeks after she’d rejoined the equestrian team.

“Sunday?”
Elizabeth’s blue eyes narrowed. “Why so long?”

“He’s had the flu, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.
Damn, my glue is drying.” Elizabeth turned back to her mirror, and Margo watched her in her own. Her
bestie
hadn’t been the same since she’d started dating Michael. It wasn’t a bad thing—in fact, Margo was glad for her—but it did make Liz forgetful.
Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing, since she was so absentminded already.

For the next two hours, the pair chatted about classes, teachers, friends, and holiday
plans
while they filled the room with hairspray and perfume. They debated earrings and bracelets, speculated on who would be doing what with whom (and why), and, finally, zipped each other into gowns.

“
Eeeee
!
I’m so excited, it’s just stupid.” Liz gave a silly little hop, unable to keep a big grin off her face. “Mar, do you think I should invite him to come to the chalet? Just for a couple days? He’ll be in
Zürs
anyway. It’s his dad’s Christmas, and Mike said it’s where they always go to ski.”

Margo forced her own face into a smile.
“Definitely.
You should.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No, not at all.”

Without any holiday plans of her own, Margo was tagging along for the
Timberdimes
’ Christmas in the Austrian
alps
. Every time they talked about it, she couldn’t help remembering her kidnappers, a group of
scuzbags
tied to a terrorist group in Munich. Their leader, Mr. Teeth, had been killed in the shoot-out the night of the party. She’d been asleep, but Jana had filled her in. Logan had mortally wounded another man; he’d died in a hospital in San Juan.

“Margo.
Earth to Margo.”
Elizabeth’s heart-shaped face bobbed a few inches from Margo’s. Her brows drew together. “You okay?”

“Yep.
Most def.”

“How’s the leg?” The question was asked with hesitation. Even Elizabeth felt uncomfortable mentioning Margo’s ordeal. Margo understood; she didn’t like to think about it, and it showed.

“It’s good. Still needs a few trips to the tanning bed,” she joked. She was doing physical therapy to strengthen her left leg, but it was a minor inconvenience compared to the wheel chair and leg-immobilizer she’d used after being discharged from the hospital.

Before Elizabeth could ask anything else about the Summer That Should Not Be Mentioned, Margo grabbed her clutch, slid her iPhone in, and turned toward the full-length mirror.

Elizabeth gave a cat call, and Margo mustered a smile. This year, her dress was Marc Jacobs; royal blue, light blue, and white, it was fun and flouncy, with a dramatically high collar. She’d paired it with flats since she didn’t trust herself enough in heels yet. Margo touched her wavy, air-dried hair and Elizabeth grabbed her elbow.

“C’mon girl.
Vite
,
vite
!”

They were walking out the door when Margo’s phone rang. No, it beeped. She fished it out and saw a text—from Alton.

Mar- i need a rain
chk
.
so
sorry.
wanted
to go but still feeling shit.
h
. laurel is my proxy. –al

Margo smiled at the Herbert Laurel joke. Mr. Laurel was the boys’ equestrian instructor, a super
hottie
who had actually modeled for Ralph Lauren in college.

“Well,” Liz demanded. “Is it Alton?”

“Yep.”
She inhaled, let her breath out slowly. “Al can’t come.”

“No way!
That little rat!
Still sick?”

“Still sick.”

“
Oooh
, Mar. Will you still go?”

“I’ll come down in a little while.” Elizabeth protested, even offered to ditch Mike and go as Margo’s date, but Margo wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll wait till things get started, then I’ll come.”

Elizabeth didn’t want to leave her in their room, but Margo wouldn’t sway. The truth was she didn’t plan to go down to the ballroom at all.

Margo planted herself in their big bay window, the one that hung out over the rolling lawn and mossy woods out to the east. Kerrigan had hundreds of acres. Maybe she would walk them like a ghost on the moors. She’d been reading
Wuthering Heights
for advanced English Lit and was identifying with it a little too much.

She leaned her head on the window frame and fiddled with her phone, looking through her call log. Alton was a frequent caller. Their relationship worked well because Margo wasn’t interested in any guy, and Alton wasn’t interested in any girl. His romantic preference was a secret until his father—a Virginia senator as conservative as Margo’s father had been liberal—finished paying for his school, and Alton kept the secrets Margo couldn’t bring herself to tell Liz. Not when her BFF was so buoyant over Michael…

Other than Elizabeth and Alton, there were a few calls from Cindy’s security people—two of whom now had posts in New Orleans, a call from Margo’s financial adviser, and two calls from Jana.

Margo had bonded with the Observatory manager after the almost kidnapping, as Jana had taken it upon herself to nurse Margo back to health. Margo was happy to get her calls, but the woman kept prodding her to give Cindy another chance.

She
love
you. She has her own way.

Maybe it was true. Cindy had called a few times, talking slightly more with each phone call. Though Margo still didn’t feel warm
fuzzies
toward her, Cindy had invited Margo back to Isis for “real time together,” when Cindy would actually be there.

Thinking of returning to the island made her think of Logan. No way around it. Sometimes at night she still awoke hearing gunshots—or, worse maybe, feeling his hands on her…his mouth on hers.

Margo told herself she didn’t care. She was an awful liar.

The truth was, she thought about Logan even on days she didn’t dream of him, and time hadn’t made it any better. She was beginning to think she would never be able to forget him—or feel interested in anybody else. She was already dreading the day when he’d be on magazine covers and talk shows. Cindy had officially selected the Mars crew, and in a special TIME magazine that explained the technology their shuttle would rely on, Logan had already been featured. Margo had even heard some of the girls at Kerrigan talking about him. She tended to hear that kind of talk since people now realized Cindy was her mother.

She focused her eyes on the candles being lit on the lawn. On the trail, toward the ballroom, that was already scattered with couples. She told herself not to think about Logan and all his girlfriends.

He didn’t want you. He didn’t want to stay.

In fact, he’d left her in a hospital bed. What could speak more clearly of his feelings?

Margo noticed Liz’s bright red dress—glued to a tux she assumed was Mike—and decided she would walk the trail. It was a little silly maybe, but since when did that stop her?

It didn’t take her long to leave the dorms and make her way across the lawn. She was headed toward the woods at a quick, angry pace when someone grabbed her arm.

“Alton?”

He looked like death in a pair of plaid night pants, white undershirt, and moccasin bedroom shoes, and he was waving his arms around like someone drowning. His black hair stuck up everywhere.

“Margo!”

“What are you doing, Alton?”

His eyes widened.
“Trying to find you!
Were you hiding?”

“No.” Alton’s brows arched.
“Maybe.
Okay, kind of… Why?”

He turned and pointed to a giant oak tree a dozen feet away, whose base was surrounded by a wooden bench. Margo squinted. The tree looked normal. Dark…

“Alton, are you okay?”

And then she saw someone walking out into the little clearing.

Alton turned and started walking toward the shadow. She watched him slap the figure’s shoulder, flash a thumbs-up her way.

She expected… a security guard? Or was it Cindy (a taller, broader Cindy)? For a second, she even thought of Mr.
Timberdime
. Then the moonlight hit the shadow’s face, and all the blood left Margo’s head.

It was a mistake.
An accident.
Logan had come to New Orleans to…visit a museum. Go to Bourbon Street. He’d come here because Cindy had asked him to talk to the headmistress about…science. He would be a guest-speaker.
Motivational.
At the dance.

It was the only explanation for his suit.
For his presence.

As he neared, Margo felt her cheeks heat up. Her whole head flamed, eyes watered, legs shook.

His brown hair was cut shorter. His shoulders looked a little wider. This was a different guy, she told herself. They were divided now by time, by circumstance, by choice.

And yet…he reached for her. Margo stuck her hand out, and Logan’s torso smashed into it as he wrapped his arms around her.

She had gone insane, surely.
Hallucinating.
His mouth was in her hair, he was saying something and it sounded soft and serious. His lips were on her head, her cheek,
her
chin. His body was overtaking hers like a wave…undertow tugging her out
out
out
so she could feel smell think nothing else but Logan.