SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (25 page)

Ben Fisher was tracked down somewhere in Ohio and brought back, though the Zooks refused to press charges against him. Last I heard, Levi had been going to visit Ben nearly every day. Like I said, Levi was a loyal, true friend.

And Ben repented, escaping the shunning. Thank goodness!

Lissa talked her mother into letting her go to Spring Spree with my brother, saying it was only a one-time thing. In fact, Lissa and Skip and Elton and I doubled up in Skip’s car for the evening. I must admit it wasn’t easy pulling Elton into the conversation, but, oh well…sometimes silence is golden.

Jon Klein and Ashley Horton experienced a somewhat golden evening, as well. In fact, every time I happened to glance over at their table, they were silent.

At the end of the banquet, Elton and I posed for pictures, showing off our matching white bandages. Well, Elton didn’t ham it up that much, but at least he got his nodding ritual going again.

I can’t decide exactly where his picture—the people picture—will fit on my wall gallery just yet. But it’s going up there—no matter what!

Who knows, I might start a new gallery, one featuring windows of the soul. I think it’s about time.

To Dave,
with thanks for the simple gifts—
long walks and quiet talks…
and stargazing.

‘Tis the gift to be simple.

‘Tis the gift to be free.

—O
LD
A
MERICAN
H
YMN

I probably would have ignored Lissa Vyner the rest of the school year and all summer, too, for doing what she did. In fact, I was one-hundred-percent-amen sure if Lissa hadn’t been my friend I would have refused to have anything whatsoever to do with her.

Outrageous.
That’s what it was. How dare she ask Jonathan Klein to be her project partner! But she had. And I could still see her waiting outside social studies, all pert and confident with her wavy blond hair pulled back, her blue eyes shining.

It wasn’t as if Lissa was totally tuned out with no idea of how I felt. Last month she’d even asked me point-blank if I liked Jon. Silly me, I’d changed the subject. The truth was, I truly admired Jon, maybe even the L word, but I’d tried desperately to keep all traces of such things hidden. Aside from the fact that he considered me his equal when it came to playing his alliteration game, I doubted Jonathan Klein even knew I existed—as a potential girlfriend, anyway.

“Who’re you teaming up with?” I asked Chelsea Davis in the cafeteria line the next day.

She puffed out her cheeks and rolled her eyes as though the assignment were something out of grade school. “You kidding? Why do we have to have partners to do a family history?”

“Well”—I wondered why she was so upset—“doesn’t sound like such a bad idea to me. Might be kinda fun.”

“I’d rather go bungee jumping over a pool of hungry sharks,” she protested.

I reached for the soy sauce and sprinkled some on my chicken chow mein. “Maybe you’ll uncover some never-before-discovered secrets. Don’t
all
families have skeletons in their closets?” I rubbed my hands together.

She snickered.

“So…wanna be my partner?” I asked.

Chelsea gathered her super-thick auburn hair away from her face and flung it over her shoulder before picking up her tray. “I can see this is gonna be a kickin’ good time.”

“Truly?” I followed her to our table.

She laughed. “You’re crazy, Merry Hanson.”

“Good, then it’s set.” I dropped my schoolbag on the chair across from her. “We’re a team.”

Chelsea nodded nonchalantly.

Honestly, I was relieved. Last I checked, there were only a couple of kids unclaimed as partners. One was Ashley Horton, our new pastor’s daughter. Since Lissa had snatched up my number-one choice, I was more than happy to settle for Chelsea. I don’t mean that Ashley was all that bad. Actually, the girl had a lot going for her. Great smile, nice hair, and truly sweet—she wasn’t the stereotypical preacher’s kid. In fact, she was the kind of girl most guys would easily fall for. Fall in love with, and then not be able to engage in decent conversation. At least that’s how she struck me.

For that one reason I didn’t want to link up with Ashley for the end-of-the-year project. Well, there was one other minuscule reason. Unfortunately, it had to do with Ashley’s making a not-so-subtle attempt last month at getting Jon’s attention.

Sigh.
Why did it seem as though every girl in Lancaster County was attracted to the Alliteration Wizard?

After lunch, I was opening my locker when I heard the familiar greeting, “Mistress Merry.” I turned to see Jon hurrying down the hall toward me.

“Soon school’ll be squat,” he said, starting up our alliteration game as he stood beside my locker.

“Three more weeks and ninth grade’s history.” I looked up just in time to catch his heart-stopping smile.

“Say that with all
g
’s,” he teased.

I could see Ashley at the end of the hall, fussing around in her locker. She primped in her mirror as though she didn’t know what to do with herself. But I knew she was spying. Several lockers away from Ashley’s, Lissa peered over her shoulder, glaring in my direction, no doubt longing to know what Jon and I were talking about.

Not wanting to clue in either girl as to Jon’s and my word-game connection—after all, it was all we really had, so it was precious to me—I turned away from their surveillance and lowered my voice. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to show Jon my amazing intellectual stuff. “All
g
’s, you say?”

He nodded. “Oh, you know, give or take a few.”

“Good-bye, grand and glorious grade of nine. Gimme ghastly halls of high school,” I said.

He grinned at me—really grinned. Then he reached up and leaned on my locker door. “I take it you’re not looking forward to sophomore year?”

“Did I say that?” I shrugged, staring down at my tennies. His hand was touching my locker door! His arm was so close to me. So close…

I wondered if Lissa and Ashley were still gawking. Shrugging the thought away, I felt embarrassed admitting to my fellow classmate and word-game equal that the thought of high school sent me into jitterland.

“High school is just one step up from here, right?” he said. “No problem.”

Maybe not for him.

I forced a smile. “I guess change is good.”

He stepped back slightly and ran his free hand through his light brown hair. “Well, I guess it’s all in how you look at it.”

“Say that with all
y
’s,” I said, eager for this conversation to last forever. But the hallway was becoming crammed with students, growing more noisy by the second. “Oh well, skip it.”

“Later?” His brown eyes twinkled.

“Okay.” But I had a feeling our wonderful word game was over, at least for today. And I was right.

By the end of the day, Lissa showed up at Jon’s locker with a spiral notebook. Probably with talk of their social studies project. I was pretty sure she would monopolize him for the next three weeks. And after that, school would be out for the summer.

I hated the thought of summer vacation. For one thing, I liked school, really and truly; it had nothing to do with seeing Jon every day. Fortunately, he attended the same church I did, and there were lots of youth services and special activities all summer long.

I peeked around my locker door the way Lissa and Ashley had done earlier. I made sure Lissa didn’t catch me, though. As for Jon, it was impossible for him to spot my envious eyes—he was facing her.

Reaching for my math and social studies books, I was dying for one more glance. But it was a mistake—I never should’ve taken another look. Jon reached up and held on to her locker door exactly the way he had mine while Lissa gazed up at him all dreamy-eyed.

Swiftly, I stuffed my books into my schoolbag and closed my locker. I needed some fresh air. Fast!

A bunch of kids were already waiting for the bus at the bottom of the steps of Mifflin Junior High—hallowed ground, in my opinion. With only a few weeks left as a ninth grader, I was entitled to feel this way about my school. Three solid years of memories—some good, some not. I consoled myself with the thought that I’d have all summer to get used to the idea of high school.

I turned around and scanned the steps, wondering when Lissa would show up. Usually, I sat with Chelsea on the bus, sometimes Lissa.

Today, I wanted to be alone. But I didn’t plan to budge before I saw with my own eyes that Lissa’s conversation with Jon was over.

The bus made the turn at the end of the drive, and the crowd of kids jammed up, moving toward the bold yellow lines. That’s when I heard Jon’s voice.

I turned to see him hold the door for Lissa, and she stepped out of the school like a princess. A golden glow graced her face, and I stared, trying to decide if the lustrous shine came from the sun illuminating her wheat-colored hair—or was it because of Jon’s attentive smile?

A kid behind me yelled, “Keep it moving.”

“Chill,” I shot back and headed toward the bus.

Instead of sitting in the front as usual, I felt like going to the back of the bus and crawling under one of the seats. Especially now that it looked as though Jon and Lissa were going to keep talking. Through the smeared-up bus windows, I spotted them and felt my throat turn to cotton.

On my way to the rear of the bus, I passed Ashley Horton and several church friends sharing a bag of chips. Miss Preacher’s Kid hardly noticed me. At least she didn’t bother to say anything or glance my way.

Suddenly, I was hungry. Stress did that to me. Sliding into the last seat, I took refuge by leaning against the hard window. I watched Jon and Lissa as they stood side by side outside, still talking.

My stomach growled, and I reached into my schoolbag, pulled out an apple, and bit down hard. From my vantage point, I noticed Jon’s hands gesturing rapidly as they often did when he talked. Lissa’s eyes were incredibly bright. My guess was she was falling hard and fast. For
my
guy.

I chomped down on the next bite of apple, trying to compose myself.
Get it together, Merry. He’s only being nice.

“Whatcha doin’ all the way back here?” Chelsea asked, plopping herself down next to me.

I forced my eyes away from the window. “Don’t ask.”

She glanced out the window. “Oh,
I
get it.”

“Get what?”

“Not what, Mer—
who
?” And with that remark, she pointed toward the window.

I shoved her arm down. “Chelsea, please!”

“Oh, don’t tell me…” She scrunched down, putting her knees up against the seat in front of us. “This is one of those truly horrible days of your life, right?” She’d used my own words to mimic me!

It was bad enough being secretly in love with Jon, but having to observe him with someone else—especially a good friend—knowing they’d probably be going to each other’s houses for the social studies project…well, it was truly horrible.

Then, to top things off, when the two of them finally did board the bus, Jon slid in next to Lissa—the seat where she and I usually sat. Not once did she check to see where I was sitting.

Friday afternoons weren’t supposed to be like this. A girl ought to be able to go home from school feeling good for having done her best work all week long.

Do everything for the honor and glory of God,
Mom always said. Dad, too, only he wasn’t given to hammering away at his philosophies. For as long as I could remember, the concept had been drilled into my head. My brother’s, too. And it must’ve worked for Skip, because my brainy brother was going to graduate from high school with honors!

The bus jolted forward, and I tried my best not to look at Jon and Lissa even though they were smack-dab in my line of vision. I took another slurpy bite of my apple and slumped down in my seat, pushing my knees up against the seat in front of me, copying Chelsea.

She smirked. “Now you’re getting the hang of things. And just think, you won’t have to ride this rotten bus again till Monday morning.”

“Oh, terrific,” I mumbled. But she was right. One good thing about today’s being Friday, I wouldn’t have to suffer through another Lissa-and-Jon day till Monday. I could use a weekend about now.