Chapter 7

7

T he instant the door opened, Peter flew out of the bus, ignoring the steady rain. His footsteps sank into the soggy grass as he ran across the clearing and past the large oak where he had first met Libby. He made his way down the muddy path, which led him closer to the stream. The slick ground slowed his progress. Please let her be here . If she wasn't, when would he ever see her again?

The rain came down in a constant stream, muffling sounds in the glen. Peter rounded a bend and spotted Libby standing in the center of the large rock that hung over the stream. He paused and smiled. She grinned back. She wore a dark green Windbreaker and jeans. One hand was tucked into her coat pocket, the other held a huge, blue-and-white faded umbrella. Its enormity dwarfed her. She looked like a cute little garden gnome who'd been left out in the rain .

Peter closed the distance in seconds. "You're here!"

"So are you." She smiled, her hair damp.

Peter noticed several gaping holes in the umbrella, causing a constant flow of water onto her. "I was so worried you wouldn't be here, with the rain and all. Have you been waiting long?" He wanted to reach out and hug her, but didn't quite know how to make it happen.

"No, not long at all." A shiver racked her body.

"Liar. Your lips are turning blue." Peter's eyes settled on her trembling mouth.

"You're getting soaked. Come stand under the umbrella." She lifted it enough to clear his height. In the process of tipping the umbrella, a sheet of cold water swooshed off the back and splashed their legs as it hit the rock.

"Oops, sorry," she said with a giggle.

Peter crowded close under the umbrella. He gazed down at her smiling face. Raindrops clung to her eyelashes.

"What do you say we go somewhere we won't get pummeled by rain?" He took the umbrella from Libby and wrapped his arm around her small frame. They moved off the rock and climbed to an area near the wall. Trees reached over the glen, blocking some of the rain. The constant downfall now sounded like a pitter-patter.

Peter reached for her hand and held the oversized umbrella with his other. "Jeez, your hand is freezing. "

"I'm not gonna lie, it was really cold out here, but I didn't want to stand you up." Her cheeks were chafed red from the cold. "I hope you plan on making it worth my while." She teased him with a sly look.

"Now that you mention it, I did have something in mind."

Libby's eyes widened.

"I have something for you." He had moved heaven and earth to pull this together.

"You do?" Her eyes glittered in surprise.

"Yup. Close your eyes and hold out your hands." He couldn't wait to see what she thought. Libby obeyed. Her dark eyelashes lay against her rosy cheeks. His heart beat in anticipation. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a white plastic bag, then glanced up. Her closed eyes changed to little slits.

"Hey, stop peeking!"

Libby squeezed her eyes closed and laughed. She held out her hands and waited. Peter pulled the slim item out of the bag and placed it in her hands.

"Okay, look."

She peered at the shiny device and then back at him in disbelief. "You gave me a cell phone?"

She stared at the gift. "You gave me a cell phone!" This time she yelled it.

"It seemed like a good idea. You didn't have a phone number to give me, and I really missed you. It's gonna get harder to see you. I thought this way we could stay in touch and actually talk whenever we want."

She closed her hand around the precious phone and turned pensive.

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't know if I should accept this." She gazed up at him. He couldn't believe this. He needed her to take the phone.

"We barely know each other, and, well . . ." Mischief lit her face, and he wondered what she was up to. "We've never even kissed."

Peter paused and took a good look at her. He'd been wondering how to sneak a kiss.

He tossed the umbrella aside and pulled her close. He let his fingers tangle in her wet hair and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her long, taking his sweet time. Cold rain trickled down his neck as he savored each moment. Startled at first, Libby now returned his kiss. He enjoyed the touch of her tender lips.

He slowly pulled away. "Now can you take the phone?" His forehead rested against hers.

"Yeah, I think so," she answered with a breathy voice and a sly smile.

"I'd better be sure." Empowered by their perfect chemistry, he leaned in for more. Her body melted against him. He wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close .

"Wow," she whispered, her eyes dark and smoky. "Haven't you ever been kissed before?" His eyes searched hers.

"Not like that."

"Good." Nothing like kissing a girl senseless to boost his confidence. "I think I'll just stay here all day. The rain's not so bad." He caressed her damp cheek with his thumb.

"I'd like that." She leaned her head back against the rock wall, gazing contently up into his eyes.

"The tour is overrated anyway," he said. Libby leaned into him. Everything about her brought Peter alive. His life was great, a dream come true; he had nothing to complain about. But this simple girl turned everything upside down. He couldn't get enough. He wanted to sneak her onto the bus and take her with him.

They parted, breathless and secure in each other's arms.

Peter's phone suddenly rang. His family was back. "I should have sent them to Iowa for lunch."

"You can't leave me now." She sighed from her spot in Peter's arms.

"What are we going to do?"

They had opened a new door and complicated their lives. Neither wanted to walk away.

"We're going to talk as often as possible and text in between," he said, hoping to reassure her that this was only the beginning .

"Okay, but when will I see you again?" she asked, the angst clear in her eyes.

"I don't know. We're leaving the Midwest for a while." Not knowing worried him, too. "But that isn't going to stop us from being together. I'll figure something out. I promise."

He meant it with every fiber of his being. They barely knew each other, but they would soon. He refused to let her go. The connection they shared couldn't be denied.

Libby nodded, her trust in him absolute. His phone played music again.

"You're ringing."

"They can wait. I'm with them all the time."

He lowered his lips to hers once more, feeling neither the cold nor the rain.

Peter jogged through the steady rain, his heart bursting with joy. The silver bus waited, surrounded by a thick fog. He hammered on the door twice. It opened smoothly.

He returned to the other part of his life, energized and empowered. He could conquer the world.

"Peter, where's Libby?" his mother asked.

He pushed the hood of his jacket back and shook his head like a dog, spraying water on everyone around him.

"Dude, grab a towel, would ya?" Adam blocked his face with his arm .

"She didn't want a ride. She's not far from home and wanted to walk."

His parents exchanged concerned glances.

"She's really shy, that's all," he added.

"Apparently, not too shy," Adam said, noticing Peter's euphoric mood.

Peter shrugged, a smug grin on his face. He moved to the back of the bus, high-fiving Garrett as he passed.

"Oh yeah, little brother," Garrett said.

"We brought you a burger," his mother called.

"Not hungry." He plopped onto the couch, popped in his earphones, and lost himself in thoughts of Libby.

A half hour later, Libby's sopping-wet jeans lay in a pile on the floor along with her waterlogged shoes and dripping socks. She sat in the middle of her bed with her new phone and ran her hands over it when a familiar Jamieson tune played.

Startled, she dropped the phone, then fumbled with the screen until she heard laughter sound from the tiny unit.

She picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey there." Peter's magical voice sounded close. "Peter!"

"Your voice is music to my ears," Peter answered .

Libby felt warm and tingly down to her cold feet. "I still can't believe you gave me a phone."

"Well, I had to do something. I couldn't quit the tour and hide in the woods every day, waiting for you. My dad would have blown a gasket. I figured this would be a good compromise."

"Works for me."

"Whatcha doing?" he asked.

"Sitting on my bed about to figure out the phone. I just got here a few minutes ago." Up until a year ago, she'd had a phone since she was twelve. Being without one for the past year had been almost as isolating as how she lived.

"Perfect timing. You'll have to be sure to put it on mute when you're at school."

"I've decided to quit school so I can talk to you all day."

"No, you won't. You need to study, get smart, and graduate."

She couldn't stop grinning. This was almost like having him there with her. "Never fear. I'm only a few credits from finishing."

"Are you a senior?"

"No, I'm a junior, but I have enough credits to graduate at the end of the semester."

"How'd you manage that? I just finished last spring, and I swore it would kill me. I hated homework. It kept me from writing songs."

"I spend a lot of time studying. I've had a lot of time on my hands, so I just loaded up on extra classes and took summer courses." Studying had been her savior. Losing herself in books made the rest of the world go away. You don't think about how much you miss your family when you're deep into advanced biology or calculus.

"So you're a brainiac?"

"Maybe," she replied with a smile. "Does that bother you?"

"Heck, no. Maybe some of your smarts will rub off on me."

She laughed. "So, where are you? What are you doing?"

"We're headed south, to Texas, and I'm sitting in my

bunk talking to this really cool girl I know."

Libby hugged herself. "Texas is far. How long till you get there?"

"I think it's about sixteen hours to Dallas, so I have a lot of time to talk."

"I can handle that, but I'm going to have to plug in the phone or we'll drain the battery on the first time out."

She talked to him late into the night about anything and everything. It felt like they'd known each other forever.

Peter's family interrupted off and on throughout their marathon conversation. Somewhere around two thirty in the morning, their energy began to wane, so they agreed to hang up and begin again the next day. They would text throughout the day, since she had school .

Libby fell asleep with the phone snuggled up against her, a symbol of the soul mate she'd found.

*. *. *

"Libby, you're wanted in the office." Ms. Dorsett, her American Literature teacher, held a pink slip of paper.

Libby closed the heavy textbook and grabbed her papers. She'd never been called to the office before and couldn't imagine why it happened today. As she walked through the vacant halls, her mind searched for a reason. Then it hit her.

Dad!

He said he'd be back for her. When he dropped her off last year, he said it was only for a couple of weeks, but it turned into over a year. Finally, she could escape Rockville. She hurried the remainder of the distance. Wait until he heard about Peter. Libby burst through the office doors, searching for her father's kind face. He had been a pillar of strength before the accident broke him.

The gray-haired secretary glanced up from her work. "I'll be right with you."

Libby's heart beat in anticipation. She went around the corner and peeked into Miss Orman's office. No Dad enjoying a nice visit with the counselor while he waited for her. Miss Orman glanced up from a call, her smile strained.

Libby returned to the main office and sighed .

"Principal Harried will see you now," the elderly secretary said.

Was her dad in with the principal? Something didn't feel right. She moved past the counter and down the short hall to the open door of the principal's office. She paused, unsure if she should knock or walk right in.

"Ah, Miss Sawyer, please come in and take a seat. Close the door behind you."

As Libby shut the heavy door with a solid click and took a seat in a worn chair facing the principal's desk, dread pressed in. Please don't let something have happened to her dad. She couldn't bear it.

Principal Harried closed the folder in front of him and removed his glasses from his pointy nose; his bulging eyes reminded her of a rodent's. The kids called him Rat.

"It appears we have a problem." He leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes, delaying the news.

Libby gripped her hands. Her mouth went dry as words eluded her.

"Last Friday you sold bus tickets for the away football game. Is that correct?" His eyes pierced hers.

Oh crap .

The heat of guilt climbed her neck. "Yes, sir." She swallowed.

"One of the women working in the lunch line saw you take money from the cash box and pocket it. Is that correct?" He spoke slowly and quietly .

More than anything, she wanted to lie. The only time in her life she'd ever taken anything, and now she was caught.

Panic hit. Deny it. Lie. She could taste the words on the tip of her tongue. She wasn't a bad person; she just needed the money.

"Before you answer, I want you to know that the same cash box came up short seventeen dollars." He tapped his finger against his temple; he had her cornered.

"Yes, sir." She crossed her arms, hugging herself tight.

"What was that?" Principal Rat asked.

"Yes, sir. I took the money." Libby's head hung low. No wonder she always followed the rules; breaking them and getting caught sucked.

"Would you like to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms, his voice tight.

"No, sir," she mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Apparently, he wasn't used to hearing no.

"No, sir, I wouldn't like to explain." If she confessed about her CD, he'd probably take it away.

"I see." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, young lady, we have zero tolerance for stealing in this school. Let me spell this out so you understand the full consequence of your actions. You will serve an in-school detention, you will return the money, and your guardian will be notified."

"Please don't call her," Libby interrupted in a full panic. Aunt Marge would be livid. "I'm really sorry. I didn't plan to do it. I'll do whatever detention you want, but please don't call her. "

We have strict policies in this school, and perhaps this will help deter you from stealing again. I've already called her. You can expect to be disciplined at home as well."

Why did life always have to be so complicated? Could nothing ever go her way? How could she go home and face her aunt?

"Miss Orman will oversee your detention, and you can return the money to Mrs. Keller at the front desk."

"I don't have it anymore. I spent it."

He leaned back in his chair again, glanced at her file, and sighed a deep breath, clearly annoyed. "I assume that would explain your unexcused absence Friday afternoon."

She nodded.

"Well, we'll be sure to find a way for you to work the money off. Let this be a strong message to you. If this should happen again, you will be looking at a suspension. You may go."