CHAPTER 5
My first days in Scotland had flown by. My daily sightseeing tours were on hold for the weekend, so I was spending a lot of time with Alison and Roy. Alison was funny and laughed a lot. While she did her housework, she’d tell me stories—amusing episodes from her life, or small squabbles she’d had with Roy. And although she was the tiny one in this odd couple, she easily won every fight.
I felt really at home with them. The cozy warmth in the cottage, the rosy glow coming in through the pink blinds, and the arch overgrown with roses over the front door—all of it seemed to have brushed off onto me, and I was feeling much sunnier than I had been at home. But I couldn’t say everything was perfect.
The whole weekend I’d felt a little on edge. I couldn’t put my finger on it precisely, but it was almost as if I were being followed. Whenever I stopped and looked around, I didn’t see anything unusual. But it always felt as if someone were looking at me behind my back, and that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I felt a little silly about it, actually. It was probably just what Roy had told me when I arrived: Scotland turned people into superstitious scaredy-cats.
On Monday morning I had the house to myself. Since Roy was a teacher, he left the house pretty early in the morning. Alison had already apologized the night before for not being able to make breakfast for me. She was working extra hours at the tourist information office for a few days, filling in for a coworker who had to get her appendix out.
“It’s no problem,” I said. I was actually kind of relieved to get a little alone time. “I can get breakfast for myself, and then I’ll go on the tour.”
Alison’s expression told me she was worried I might run into trouble again. She’d felt terrible when I’d come home in the dark, soaking wet, after losing my tour group.
I tried to reassure her. “I promise I won’t miss the bus again. And I’ll always stay close to my group. Please don’t worry.”
“OK, but do be sure to take your phone with you this time, just in case.”
As Alison said good night, it was clear to me that she wanted to believe I’d be fine on my own in the morning, but she wasn’t entirely sure.
I opened my eyes. Just as I had after my first night there, I unlatched the window as soon as I got out of bed. I could tell it was going to be a nice day. The sun was already successfully warming the air, and I stood at the window in my pajamas, just enjoying the quiet. The delicious smell of coffee and biscuits wafted up from the kitchen. Not surprisingly, Alison had decided to take care of breakfast after all. I wandered downstairs and got myself a cup of coffee with milk. I carried it, and a plate of biscuits, up to my room and had breakfast in bed. I felt at ease. The disconcerting fears of the past days had disappeared, and, for a change, I couldn’t wait to see more of Scotland.
My good mood stayed with me the whole day, even during the sightseeing tour. Like lemmings, we followed our guide to the Glenfinnan Monument. We lemmings didn’t fall into the sea, but we could be counted on to follow each other into each souvenir shop. This particular little shop could hardly withstand our attack, and I almost had a bout of claustrophobia. Gasping for breath, I dashed out the back door and sucked in some fresh air.
In front of me stretched the wilderness of the Highlands. A gravel path led across the heather and up to the monument, so I headed toward it.
The Glenfinnan Monument is a round, simple tower on the coast of Loch Shiel. The closer I got to it, the larger it loomed. It was built in 1815, our guide had told us, to mark the spot where Prince Charles Edward Stuart, also known as Bonnie Prince Charlie, began the Jacobean uprising. The Scottish clans gathered around him here in 1745 as he led them to battle in the fight for the crown of England and Scotland. They must have really trusted him.
The tower is topped by a statue of a nameless Highlander in a kilt, but since he couldn’t say much, a real human Scot in full tartan was on hand. His job was to let only two or three visitors at a time through the arched doorway into the tower. It was very dark and frighteningly narrow inside the old building. I climbed a steep, winding staircase and pushed myself through a tight opening to reach a narrow platform at the top. Another visitor poked his head through right after me.
I stepped up to the stone balustrade to make room for him. And when I saw his face, my breath caught, and I quickly turned away.
I hoped he didn’t notice his effect on me. I couldn’t say exactly what it was, but the sight of him made me woozy, and I had to lean against the wall. When I stole another look, he was standing as far away from me as possible. Maybe he was trying not to invade my personal space, I thought.
My heart was beating so loudly that I was afraid he could hear it. Every fiber of my body felt electrified. I had only looked at him briefly, and yet his image had burned itself into my memory. He seemed a little older than me, and he was quite a bit taller. His short hair was ruffled, as if he’d just woken up from a dream. His hair was brown, but single strands were lighter, and they stood out like golden sparks. He was wearing black cargo pants and a dark-gray button-down shirt over a white T-shirt.
Despite the distance between us, he kept looking at me. Even when I turned, I felt his gaze drilling into my back. Unable to stop myself, I looked at him again, trying not to be too obvious. There was something strange about the way he was staring at me. His brown eyes seemed slightly glazed, and he had pulled back away from me even more.
I tried to swallow, but felt like I couldn’t. The wind blew my hair into my face and a whiff of his scent swept toward me. Indescribable feelings flooded me. His face was scowling, his whole posture unwelcoming, yet I somehow felt inexplicably attracted to him.
The silence at the top of the tower stretched out. C’mon, Sam, I said to myself. Regain your composure! I had to take a deep breath, and then another, before I could even think about starting a conversation.
I turned slightly toward him and pointed at Loch Shiel in front of us. The sky and the even surface of the water melded seamlessly, and the surrounding hills seemed to be watchmen.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked with a weak voice.
He looked past me, took a deep breath, and answered with an equally pressed voice. “Yes, beautiful.”
His intense, unfathomable look held me tight in its grasp, and his voice almost physically touched me. I wanted to ask whether he meant the view was beautiful—or something else.
He spoke again and seemed to be waiting for an answer, but I was still so dazed by his first words that I didn’t hear what he said.
“What? Sorry… I… I didn’t hear you.”
“Payton, I said. I’m Payton. And you?”
“Sam. I mean… actually, Samantha… but everyone calls me Sam.” I seemed to be squeaking rather than speaking. My knees had turned to chocolate pudding, and my voice was giving up on me. God, I wondered, what would Lisa back home say about such pitiful behavior?
The embarrassment got even worse. While I was musing about chocolate pudding and squeaking, I’d missed the next thing that he said. Sure, he had a Scottish accent, but that hadn’t given me trouble before. He probably thought I was a complete idiot. There I was, standing in the tight quarters of a famous tower with a boy who was obviously getting to me, and although we were speaking the same language, I couldn’t understand a word. Thankfully, I thought, this would soon be over. I seriously doubted he was interested in me.
His tortured expression as he leaned over the balustrade to check out the view made me think he’d rather throw himself over the wall than lean even a millimeter in my direction. It was too much, and I started to laugh—snort, really. I held my hands in front of my mouth to try and stop, but the laughs just popped out of me, giggles gone crazy. I was laughing so hard I was almost crying. My eyes started to water, and I relaxed my body, letting my back drop down the wall to rest myself on the floor.
It took a moment, but then Payton’s face changed. It wasn’t a smile, but maybe amusement. Yes, I’d say he was at least slightly amused. He studied me, and then sat down opposite me. He didn’t say a word. I suddenly noticed that my pendant was doing that burning thing, making my skin feel red-hot, but I was far too caught up in the here and now to give it much attention.
I struggled to regain my composure. Then I gathered all my courage and looked up. Payton was sitting with his legs crossed, leaning against the wall in a way that was meant to look relaxed—and clearly wasn’t. His hands were resting loosely on his thighs, but he was obviously tense. The muscles in his arms looked tight, and his face showed not a bit of levity. To be fair, I was probably more capable of climbing Mount Everest than of appearing cool and relaxed myself. But, slowly, the first shock of hearing him speak was ebbing away.
All of a sudden I felt scared—if I let the moment pass, he’d get up and go away. The thought was awful. Although I still couldn’t say what made me so drawn to him, I knew something special was happening. Payton was attractive, despite a prominent scar on his chin, but I didn’t think his looks were all there was to it. After all, I had avoided Ryan Baker’s hotness for years. Plus, Ryan had a ready smile and an open personality. Oh, and he flirted with every girl. Payton, on the other hand, showed little expression, and he definitely wasn’t hitting on me. I decided I’d have to take the first step, because it didn’t seem as if Payton were going to make a move.
I looked directly into his eyes, and I felt like I could see pain and desperation in the depths of his being. Then he blinked, and it seemed as if a dense Scottish fog came rolling in, smoothly covering up the feelings he’d revealed there just seconds before.
“Are you all right?” Payton asked, carefully.
“Yes. Thanks. I’m fine now.”
I searched my addled brain for a good excuse for my laughing fit.
“I haven’t had anything to eat in hours, and I was feeling a bit dizzy. I slid into the wall and, for some reason, that seemed hilarious. I’m sorry if I seem crazy…”
He nodded briefly, but didn’t ask anything else.
“I could tell you something about the monument,” he finally said, timidly, “if you would rather stay seated for a moment?”
“That would be great. I was going to read the history display at the back of the souvenir shop, but I couldn’t stand the crowd in there.”
“I hate these tourists. They are like vultures, circling around everything of interest and ruining it for those of us who live here.”
“Hey now. I’m one of those vultures, you know!” I pretended to be upset.
“Mmm, I noticed that, but you seem to have fallen out of the nest somehow, little vulture fledgling.”
I laughed, a little more natural with him now. I had at least reached base camp on the Mount Everest of total calm. “I thought you were going to tell me something about the tower? If you’re just going to rant about us obnoxious tourists, I’ll have to go back to the visitor center and listen to all the historical information there. And I’ll listen to it in four different languages simultaneously!”
“I would be very surprised if you could understand four languages,” he countered, “since you weren’t even able to answer my questions in one language.”
I blushed and threw him a mock angry look. “Very funny!”
“To be honest, I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
“Then you must really lead a boring life!”
His expression darkened, and he looked past me, staring into the sky. He riffled his fingers through his hair and took a breath. Then in a neutral voice, he started to tell me about the place.
“The Glenfinnan Monument was built in 1815 to mark the place where Prince Charles Stuart’s standard was raised—that’s kind of like a large flag.”
“The Jacobite Rising, right?”
“Yes, exactly.”
My sincere interest in the topic seemed to chase away some of his bad mood, and he kept going with much more enthusiasm. “That was in 1745. Charles came from France and landed on the Western Isles. From there, he rowed to the coast, slightly to the west of here.”
Payton’s way of speaking seemed a little old-fashioned—almost from another time—but I figured it must be a Scottish dialect I wasn’t familiar with yet.
He got up and gestured in the direction of the slowly setting sun. I got off the floor, too, and stood beside him. He immediately stepped back and motioned past me.
“Look there!”
A fawn down on the banks of the lake seemed to be looking directly at us. Its pointed ears swiveled, listening in all directions, before it lowered its head and drank the clear water. The soft movement of its muzzle spread wide ripples across the surface, breaking the golden lake into a million tiny lights. I was enchanted. The last warmth of the day started to creep through my thin chambray shirt, wild spots of light danced in front of my eyes, and a gentle breeze danced softly over my skin.
Payton gasped.
Startled, I turned toward him. His face was white, and he was clutching the balustrade.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Come on, we should go back down now.”
Payton seemed to be doing better, so I tried to put it out of my mind. I saw why he thought it was time to leave. A crowd of people was streaming along the narrow path toward the tower. Payton pointed at the tight opening to the staircase, motioning for me to go ahead. But the idea of squeezing myself down onto steep steps that I couldn’t see made me nervous.
I reached out for Payton to steady myself. Our fingertips had hardly touched when he yanked his hand back, took a deep breath, and let out some strange sounds.
“Ifrinn! Daingead!”
A moment of déjà vu passed over me, but I couldn’t grab the memory.
Then Payton took my hand again. Before I could give it a second thought, I stepped into the narrow opening and carefully felt around with my feet to get a safe grip on the old, rough steps. Payton held me until I felt secure enough to loosen my grip and climb down on my own. A thick rope seemed to be the only safety measure against falling, and I made my way down hand after hand, warily.
No sooner had I stepped through the arched door than Payton was standing behind me. I had no idea how he had managed to get down so fast. The thought of him squeezing through with his broad back and strong arms was absurd, and I would have thought it was impossible if I hadn’t seen him come up.
Payton kept his distance, and as a few of the other tourists shoved their way through to the dark mouth of the monument, he moved even farther away. I was just glad to be back on solid ground. I wandered a few steps toward the polished wooden benches set up in a semicircle around the tower. Then I sat down and looked over my shoulder. Payton had followed, but he didn’t sit next to me. Instead, he sat on the grass.
His eyes had such an immense intensity, and I wondered what it was about him that made me want to take in every little detail. I was getting used to his company, but inside I was still vibrating, as if I were standing next to a Tesla coil, with its energy conducting through me.
“So have you had enough of the history lesson,” Payton asked, “or do you want me to tell you more?”
What I really wanted to know more about was his history, but I told him to go on, that I still had time.
“How much time?” He seemed to have an idea.
I checked my cell phone. I still had an hour before the bus was scheduled to go back to Aviemore. “Actually, I have far too much time.”
I didn’t know what I could possibly do there for another hour, so I hoped Payton would stick around. If he were to say good-bye now, I’d probably die of boredom and they’d have to erect a monument in my honor. “Here died a bored teenage tourist,” the plaque would read.
Mostly, though, I didn’t want him to leave. I tried to think if I should throw my hair back lasciviously—or maybe lick my lips. That seemed to work in the movies. But I was saved from having to try any awkward girly maneuvers, because a bemused expression crossed Payton’s beautiful, mysterious face.
“What do you think about going for a walk with me, and I’ll act as your personal tour guide? I know a path that leads to the foot of the viaduct.”
A bit behind the souvenir shop, a gigantic viaduct spanned the valley, all the way from hill to hill. I knew the bridge: it was in the Harry Potter movies. You could buy posters in the shop showing the Hogwarts Express train, which took Harry and his friends over this bridge. But even without the view, Payton’s offer would have been enticing.
“Sounds great.”
I got up immediately, and he stood up quickly, too, before I could reach out a hand to help him off the grass.
“You should eat something beforehand, though,” he said.
“Eat?”
“Weren’t you feeling kind of woozy up on the tower?”
“Right… I was dizzy. Something to eat sounds good.”
We wandered back to the shop next to each other, and I got a bag of chips and a bottle of lemonade. As we sat at one of the small bistro tables, a woman from my group threw a glance our way before turning around to whisper something to her friend. Oh, I thought, the gossip this would cause on the bus! Oh well.
I wiped my hands on a napkin. “So, shall we?”
Payton had also noticed the woman’s look. “And I thought the days when pretty girls had to have a chaperone were long over.”
Oh my God, I thought. Had he just called me pretty? My heart sped up by about a hundred beats per minute. I felt like I was in a deep, warm whirlpool, swirling around wildly with no protection. I just hoped Payton didn’t notice I was having a panic attack at the sound of his voice.
“So,” he said, “what brings you to Scotland?”
“Student exchange. I’m trying to improve my grades in geography and history. This trip was my teacher’s suggestion. He thought I needed… well… inspiration.”
Payton held me with a long look, as if he were searching my soul to see if I was telling the truth. It made me a little uneasy.
“And you? Do you live here? You seem to know your way around.”
“Near here.”
His kept his answers so short, which didn’t exactly encourage me to ask more questions.
“But why come to a tourist spot then? What with all the vultures stampeding around with their cameras and eating chips.”
“Hmm… I don’t know. Let’s say I was drawn here magically. And I am very glad about that, about following my impulse.”
If Ryan said something like that to a girl, he would have looked down at the end of the sentence, playing it for all it was worth. Payton, on the other hand, seemed matter-of-fact. He looked almost as if he were challenging me, but the hardness in his eyes didn’t match the softness of his voice.
Something about him sucked the truth right out of me, and I couldn’t help blurting out, “I’m glad you followed your impulse to come here, too.”
We started walking. Ow, I thought. That stupid pendant was burning against my skin. That was it, I decided then and there. I just couldn’t wear it anymore.
The brisk Scottish wind kept blowing across the hills and down to us, but I didn’t feel cold; being near Payton seemed to warm me from the inside. He told me about the bitter fight for the crown of England and Scotland. Charles’s rebellion, which had started where we stood, had been smashed only six months later at Culloden. When the battle had been lost, Charles fled from the English troops and hid near the place where it all had started, back when his journey had held such promise.
When Payton was talking about history, he didn’t seem as tense. He spoke with great passion, as if he could see the events of the past taking place directly in front of him—almost as if he himself had taken part. It seemed the past and the present weren’t separate for Scots, the way we saw things in America.
The street and parking lot were way behind us as we wandered along the path under the impressive viaduct spanning the valley. A stony riverbed ran parallel to the path, and the quiet gurgling and swishing of the crystal clear water was like music. Butterflies fluttered in colorful clouds around the yellow blooming plants on the riverbank.
“So,” I said. “This is the bridge Harry Potter crosses when he goes to Hogwarts?”
“Yes, Scotland offers many magnificent backgrounds for Hollywood blockbusters.”
“It’s unbelievably beautiful here. I think I could stay here forever.”
“Forever? You don’t know how long that is!”
A dark shadow crossed Payton’s face, and he left me standing alone on the path. It seemed I was always saying the wrong thing.
Payton took two steps toward the water and sat down on a large rock, where he took off his socks and army boots. Barefoot, he waded into the middle of the shallow stream. After a short moment of hesitation, I set my shoes next to his and dipped my toes in. And whoa—was it icy!
“Oh my God,” I called out. “This is awful! How are you not freezing?”
Payton smiled, and I must have gone crazy, because I gritted my teeth and waded toward him. It was hard to get a grip on the slimy stones under my feet, and I could just see myself slipping. Fortunately, Payton had stopped on one of the rocks jutting out of the middle of the stream, and he waited there until I reached him. I sat down and rolled up my clammy, wet jeans. The material felt icy on my calves, and goose bumps spread over my entire body.
The afternoon glow of the sun was hitting the viaduct at an angle and making it appear to glow against the sapphire-blue sky. On the riverbank, a row of purple and pink rhododendrons seemed determined to outdo each other with their colorful displays. Payton and I sat next to each other silently and enjoyed the view as crickets chirped and the stream tinkled around our shining little silver island.
After a few minutes, he slid slightly closer to me. His body radiated a comforting warmth. I wondered if he was thinking of putting his arm around me. But I knew I had to go. I’d already missed one bus, and I didn’t want to miss another.
“Payton?” I whispered, so as not to destroy the magic of the moment too abruptly.
“Yes?”
His voice was very close to my ear, and his warm breath caressed my neck.
“I’m afraid I have to go back to the bus.”
“I’m afraid I knew that you were going to say that.”
But neither of us got up.
“You’re going back by bus?”
“That’s how I came.”
Payton raised an eyebrow. “Really? With those gossipy ladies? I can give you a ride, instead, if you want.”
My common sense was practically yelling into my ear, Are you crazy? You don’t know him at all! He could be a lunatic serial killer!
“That’s awfully nice of you, but I don’t think I should.”
But there was also another voice in my head, and this one was saying, Have you ever met a guy like this before? He’s amazing! Take a risk!
I decided it would be all right if I got Alison’s permission. I was sure she’d be fine with it. But when I called, no one picked up. I just heard Roy’s voice asking me to leave a message.
“Hi, it’s Sam. I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be coming home on the bus. I’m going to get a ride home with a friend. I just wanted to let you know so that you won’t worry. See you soon!”
When I hung up, my heart felt like it was beating in my throat. I had made a decision. I needed to find out more about this spark between me and Payton. My whole body was reacting to him, and I’d never felt anything like this before.
When I looked up at him, a small smile made its way onto his face. “Then we are no longer in a hurry, are we?”
“No, but I should probably tell the bus driver I’m not coming, so he doesn’t send out a missing persons report.”
He stood up and reached out his hand, and we made our way back to the riverbank. My teeth started to chatter, so we started to run. Once I almost slipped, but Payton’s strong grip kept me from falling. Still shaking, we put our shoes on and started back down the path.
“Do you do this often?” I asked quietly.
“What?”
“This.”
“Take a walk?”
“No! Pick up girls in towers and take them wading in freezing-cold riverbeds.” I felt myself flushing, my cheeks turning as bright as the pink rhododendrons.
“I never do this kind of thing! And you? Do you often go off with guys you’ve met in towers, following them into rivers?”
I shook my head, embarrassed. “I’m ridiculously sensible, usually.”
Payton had stopped walking and looked at me. “Do you think it is sensible to be here with me?” His words were quiet, almost whispered.
“It’s the most irrational thing I’ve ever done.” I looked for his eyes, but he had turned his face away.
“But I don’t think I’m in danger,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t look like you’ve killed that many people recently.”
His laugh was hard and forced. “No, you are right. Not recently.”