The Wrong Path

Chapter Four





Annabelle put the bookmark in her book when she heard the knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.

Her mother’s head poked in, a smile curling her lips. “Trevor is here,” she said. “He’s waiting in the game room.”

Annabelle all-but leapt up from her bed. “How do I look?” she asked quietly, hurriedly, even as she leaned down to look at herself in the vanity. She had felt terrible all day after her horrible night—depressed, irritable, and cranky—and hadn’t bothered getting dressed. She yanked her hair out of her ponytail, shaking it out, and looked down at her jeans and t-shirt. She dashed over to her drawers and quickly pulled out a tighter, cuter top, tossing her t-shirt aside. She pulled the new shirt on over her head and presented herself desperately to her mother.

“You’re beautiful,” Susan assured her. Annabelle smiled at her, then quickly hurried down the stairs, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to slow down as she entered the game room.

“Hi,” Annabelle greeted breathlessly. Trevor turned from studying one of the pictures on the wall to face her, looking startled. Then his face broke out into the warm, friendly grin that she loved.

“Hi,” he returned, stepping toward her. He paused, lowering his voice. “How’re you feeling?”

She smiled weakly, embarrassed. “I’m… okay. Humiliated, but okay.” She gestured to the couch and he sat down. She followed suit, giddy at the close proximity of him. “I want to thank you so much for looking out for me last night.”

He immediately shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. You did good taking care of yourself.”

She knew it wasn’t true, but she was grateful to him for saying so. She fidgeted nervously, then picked up the remote to the TV. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked. “Or we could play pool.” She gestured to the pool table behind them.

He grinned. “Sure. Are you a pool shark?”

She laughed. “Not at all. I’m pretty terrible, actually.” She stood and led the way to the wall of pool cues, selected one, and went to go rack up the balls while he selected a cue stick.

“Do you want some music?” she asked, all-too-aware of the silence.

He looked around, then joined her at the table. “Why don’t I do that?” he suggested, picking up one of the balls to illustrate his point. “You can set up the music.”

She smiled, trying to hold her pleasure in, and nodded, picking up the remote for the stereo from the coffee table. She scanned through the stations until she found the one that had playing in his car the night before, and light jazz music filtered through the speakers.

“You like jazz?” he asked, sounding so delighted that she couldn’t stop herself from lying.

“Yeah,” she agreed, hoping she could fake her interest. “Do you?”

He looked excited. “I love it,” he declared happily. “Most people our age just don’t get how amazing it is. But it’s so full of emotion.”

“That’s the best part,” she echoed, silently reminding herself to go look up jazz music as soon as he was gone.

He finished racking up the balls and stepped back. “You want to break?” he asked cheerfully.

“No, thanks. I’m horrible at it,” she laughed.

“Well no making fun of me if I’m terrible,” he warned.

“Promise,” she agreed, grinning. She stood at the side of the table as he broke, sending the balls flying everywhere. “What was that about a shark?” she laughed, delighted at his skill at the pool table.

“Lucky shot,” he assured her.

She laughed, and at the end of the game, she had barely managed to win. “Did you let me win?” she accused laughingly, as he set up the balls again.

“No way,” he admonished, grinning boyishly. “I would never do that.”

“You did!” she cried. “No going easy on me!”

“Okay,” he warned teasingly. “Just you wait. I’m going to clear the table.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she declared, then laughed.

He really had gone easy on her the first game. In the second one he slaughtered her. Once tied, he suggested they leave it at that, and she laughingly agreed. Together they dropped down onto the couch, and with the soft jazz music filtering through the speakers, she couldn’t help but think if only her parents weren’t home, it would be a perfect time for him to kiss her.

“So… next Friday... I thought, if you’d like, we could go see a movie?” he asked, sounding almost as nervous as she felt.

“Yes,” she agreed, trying to contain her happiness. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” he said, looking relieved. He shot her a blank look. “Do you have any idea what’s playing?”

She burst out laughing, charmed at how adorable he was. “No. Hang on a second. I’ll grab a paper.” She practically skipped down the hall to the dining room where her father always set the paper after his morning coffee, retrieved the entertainment section, and headed back to the game room.

Together they scoured it, Annabelle trying to keep herself from gushing or swooning as they leaned in over the paper together. He suggested a romantic comedy that had just come out, and she agreed immediately, pleased he had chosen a movie that was clearly for her interest.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked, desperate to keep him around.

He hesitated, glancing at his watch. “I would really like that… But I need to try to keep my mom from worrying about where Will is.” He smiled apologetically. “Another time?”

“Anytime,” she agreed immediately. He grinned and she stood and walked him to the door, her heart lodging in her throat when he leaned down and lightly kissed her cheek. He bid her goodbye as she stood, glued to the spot, until she finally forced herself to shut the door.

As soon as she turned, she saw both her parents standing there with large, beaming smiles. She blushed furiously despite her grin, and her parents laughed out loud as she turned and ran wordlessly up the stairs, embarrassed and thrilled.

Trevor Scarlett had kissed her cheek.

Trevor Scarlett, the boy she had been in love with since childhood, had kissed her cheek.

It was almost too much to believe.