Chapter One
It still amazes me every time I step foot into Uppercross. It never changes. It is the perpetual, sleepy small town that I never fit into before I went to university; and now that I am only one semester away from graduation, my exile shall be complete.
I have not been home to Uppercross in months; when I do come home, my time extends only to a few days spent on the road, doing the various necessary visitations required of one who lives from home.
I was born Anne Catherine Eliot. My mother died when I was a child, leaving me in limbo. She and my father had split when I was even younger, and naturally I should have gone to live with the man who had had a hand in giving me life. I did not. As a codicil to my mother's will, she had my custody turned over to her sister, my aunt Russell. It was a strange thing, but Mother had sole custody, and so she had her way. I know she wanted the best. My father was not a bad man, but he was young and unsettled. And he lived in the city. I had grown up in the country; to remove me would have been most unpleasant.
And so I stayed in Uppercross with my aunt Russell. Life in a small town was not so constricting then. But by the time I reached high school, I noticed a marked difference in my upbringing in contrast to those I encountered in the city. I did visit my father, who remarried and had children; children who had the advantages of city life. Oh, how I envied them. They were close to the teeming, pulsing center that spilled over on its residents.
I, on the other hand, was close to the cow pastures and... Well you get the picture.
I came to resent Uppercross, and when it came time to go to university, I picked somewhere far away...and in the city.
My first days on summer were fine. I had just returned from studying abroad for a month. I studied architecture at university. I certainly got my fill with the sites of England, Ireland, and France. But nevertheless, it was difficult to adjust to the slow monotony of Uppercross.
I tried to be in a benevolent mood. I was tired, I needed rest... Who could argue with the country? Although it was vastly different from the world I had just spent 3 1/2 years living in.
The computer was my salvation, if you could call it that. I was an amateur novelist. Aunt Russell had always indulged my ambitions; she had bought me a super charged computer and the very latest in word processing programs. And so I whittled away hours at a time, dreaming up scenarios to torture my characters with. As I stared at the blinking cursor, my mind was frozen. How would pregnancy affect a society lady in the eighteenth century? It was a very good question, although I did not have the answer. And so as a child of the technology age, I turned to the internet. The dial tone filled the quiet room, followed by the electronic sound of dialing numbers. I was filled with anticipation; finding my answer would bring me the only relief.
As I keyed into the search engine, the tinkly sound of artificial piano keys filled the air.
A gray box filled the screen, asking me one question. "Will you accept a message from SailorBoy2011?"
I stared at the screen, a wash of memories flooding me, taking my focus away.
It was Freddie.
My hand hovered on the mouse, taking the cursor and settling it on the no key. But suddenly, the past one out. I clicked the yes key instead. "What am I doing?" I asked myself.
A white box popped up with red letters. "Howdy" it read. I could not help but smile. Poor, backward, Frederick Wentworth. The boy would never be cured, but his country ways always reminded me of better days. When I was younger, and he was even younger; and we were attached at the hip for six golden months of bliss.
And I threw it away.
Chapter Two
I still remember the day I met Frederick Wentworth. Well, maybe not the exact day, but out first encounter was quite memorable.
We had been classmates at Uppercross High School for as long as I could remember. He was the quiet kid, with serious brown eyes. But when he opened his mouth, oh, the most atrocious of country accents was to be heard!
By the time of our senior year, He had used some unexpected powers of persuasion, and had landed a spot on the fringes of my group of friends. And our first encounter was quite memorable...
He had been speaking quietly on the subject of football with the other boys. When the subject of the Dallas Cowboys came up, I felt compelled to listen. I was after all, a closet fan of the Cowboys when I was younger. When I overheard Frederick say that the Cowboys were not worth two cents, I sharply disagreed. "They may be on a losing streak, but they still have Emmitt!"
All the other boys stared at me with shock. They must have thought that I knew nothing beyond the tomes of 19th century literature.
"What would you know--you're just a girl!"
I looked at Frederick, rendered speechless by his quiet diatribe.
"Just a girl," I repeated lowly. All the other boys shifted on their feet because they knew better than to say such a thing to me.
I did not retaliate, although a hundred different cuts rose to mind. I stayed silent, and my dislike for Frederick was sealed.
It took four months of dreary routine to put me into a more pliable mood. The routine, and an unexpected win. The unexpected win resulting in a pair of tickets to a highly coveted rock concert in the city. Yes, I was a closet listener of rock music as well...
I could not think of who to take with me; the girls in my group would never condescend to attend a rock concert. The boys of my group were avid fans of this particular group, and I felt comfortable in being escorted by one of them, and so I put a question to them.
Once I offered the prize, I had five very interested boys, Frederick included, but he would never answer the question I was about to put to them.
"Where did Henry David Thoreau escape to when he wrote most of his major works?" We had learned this two years ago, but perhaps one of them would remember.
"That's too hard Anne..." One of them whined. But then in a gravelly, low voice, Frederick answered clearly, "Walden wood."
I must have looked shocked because Frederick gave me a smirk that I would come to associate with him from now on.
"Correct..." I spluttered.
He shook his head as the source of his knowledge became clear to me. He was two years younger than us, and we all read Thoreau's treatises our sophomore year.
I was an absolute idiot.
"Where should I meet you?" I heard the country twang in my ear.
I looked to find Frederick standing close to me. The florescent lights of the hall shined on his wire rimmed glasses, obliterating any glance of his eyes.
"At the library, I work a short shift after school. Meet at 6pm. We'll take my car."
"Good. I don't have one." Frederick answered quickly, and turned on his heel.
"He doesn't drive," I murmured to myself. It would be a fact that I would grow used to.
I was eagerly anticipating the concert, although my excitement was dampened by fate's choice in my date--if you could call it that. What would I do with a boy who was basically an improvement on the Neanderthal? I knew his type--surly and proud of the fact that they were from the country. How could I possibly stand the stupidity. I did stand it and I came away with an important lesson.
Never judge a book by its cover.
In the five hours that I spent with Frederick Wentworth, I found that two people can be kindred spirits and not have anything in common. He was a boy of few words; I was in a state of constant thought. He loved the country and wanted to spend the rest of his life there; I wanted out as soon as possible, never to return.
But in this strange pairing, I found a friend. His off-beat sense of humor made me smile, and after I got over my initial prejudice, I encourage him to strive beyond the stunning mediocrity of his life.
And it was not long before we were in each other's company all the time. If one of us was to be seen, the other would be too. We endured speculation concerning our romantic state with smiles of pleasure--Frederick and I liked to cause controversy.
But somewhere in that controversy, we began to take ourselves too seriously. We began to feel more for each other. And by the time my graduation rolled around, our feelings could be denied no longer.
Chapter Three
It was all my fault. I should have left Freddie alone, but it was his magnetism that drew me like a moth to a flame.
I had never felt a shred of physical attraction before. I had dated all through high school, and my partners had been chosen for their intellectual abilities and not for their handsome faces.
I had spent most of my high school experience attached to one boy in particular. Charles Musgrove was the class clown, but beneath the jokes and ridiculous acts, he was a true genius. We had dated for nearly two years before he threw me off. "You are the original ice queen, Anne!" He had shouted before walking out of my life forever.
The ice queen.
I had been shocked and dismayed. I spent the weekend feeling sorry for myself, and when I reappeared at school, I was cool and detached. I became to embody Charles's words. I had to when I saw him throw himself into the wiles of Mary Eliot. She was a cousin of mine, a couple dozen times removed. I had had little contact with her as I barely saw my father's side of the family, but she was in my group of friends. And as I saw her work her wily ways on Charles, I had to freeze up.
Or the pain would bubble over.
Perhaps that was why I was so susceptible to Frederick Wentworth. I felt discarded and used, and Freddie's adoration for me was nothing short of a miracle. As I have said, I was powerfully attracted to him. He was tall and muscular, and despite the terrible accent, he was very intelligent. Perhaps it was his background that lent him the need to blend into the crowd. Perhaps it was his background that made him an underachiever.
But after two months with me, Frederick was not the same. I took him shopping in the city, an experience that he hated virulently.
"I hate shopping. I hate the city. And new clothes will only make me look like a well dressed loser." He had told me on the way back to Uppercross.
"Confidence is everything, Freddie. If you look like you know you're somebody--then everyone else will believe it."
Freddie had looked skeptical, but in a matter of a few weeks he was believing everything I had said. His popularity skyrocketed. He was no longer on the fringes of my set; he led the popular underclassmen. I looked on approvingly as girls threw themselves at him. It did not occur to me to be jealous. He was my creation, and besides, he was devoted to me solely.
Perhaps that was my problem. I took all the credit for Freddie's transformation. I told him how to speak, how to act, when to shave ... He was my creation, and I held the strings.
It did not occur to him to protest. He simply moved along, allowing me to magically open the doors for him.
Despite my attitude towards his new found fame, I was fighting a more potent emotion.
Perhaps it was love, but my recent heartache convinced me otherwise. Freddie was my best friend, nothing more. So what if I nearly swooned when he was near? It was nothing. And I didn't need to get involved. I was accepted into the architecture program at Kelsin University - a school that was three hours away. There would be tons of boys there; they would intellectuals, they would be confident in themselves, they would be my age or older!
They would be completely different from Frederick Wentworth, and that was fine by me.
Or so I thought.
I gave up the night before my graduation. As I waited to get into a local coffeehouse for a small concert, everything was just ... too much.
Frederick stood by me, loomed over me really, as he was nearly five inches taller than me. He looked gorgeous; his dark red hair was slicked back, his Ralph Lauren polo shirt fit him to a tee. And he smelled ... oh he always smelled so good. Like soap and whatever cologne he was into for that week.
As we sat beside each other that night, a million what-ifs raced through my head. What if we dated? It wouldn't be for long. I couldn't expect him to stay true to me when I was three hundred miles away. He couldn't expect me to be true either. But for the summer, we could be something, just for the summer.
I shook my head. This was madness!
"You all right?"
I turned and found Frederick looking at me intently, his serious brown eyes almost black in the dark room.
"Fine." I replied quickly. Freddie nodded and laid his hand over mine. I looked at our hands entwined and swallowed. I tried to turn my attention back to the band. As they finished the number, I saw a couple slip through the crowd and settle themselves on the couch. It was Charles and Mary.
Lovely, I thought to myself. My hands clenching. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Frederick's jaw tighten. He knew all about the whole sordid love triangle. If you could call it that.
Suddenly, Frederick stood to his feet. I looked up questioningly. He gave me a look that reassured me that he would be back, and so I settled back into the couch. I felt unprotected without him there, I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the chill of the air conditioning all the more.
I waited for Freddie. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen, and then twenty.
Where could he be? I thought and rose to my feet. I stuck my nose in the air as I walked by Charles and Mary.
I looked around the room as I walked, and did not see Frederick.
I went outside and looked up and down the block. He was there, only ten feet away, his head cradled on his knees.
"Freddie?" I said, coming up behind him. He raised his head quickly, and I quickly discerned that he was in a black mood. He made a move to clasp his hands and in doing that I saw his bloody knuckles.
"Frederick! What happened?" I demanded, taking the injured hand in mine. I examined the bloody skin, and instantly knew what had happened.
"You punched the wall." I said bluntly.
Frederick did not answer. His silence was his affirmation.
"You've really got to get over this; find some way to be more constructive when you get this angry." I told him gently.
He yanked his hand out of my grasp and said nothing. Bu then finally, "I wish you would get over him."
I did not need to wonder about this person. It was Charles; the bane of my existence since September.
"There is a lot of history between us. Two years worth. Seeing him everyday is hard, especially since he has been dating Mary."
"He's a little sh*t--that's what he is."
I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I guess that's right."
"You deserved much better than him. I would have never done you the way he did."
My smile faded. I did not have to doubt his words. He was the sweetest guy I had ever known. I thought about the day after the prom. We had gone together, as friends, of course. But that afternoon, I had gone to work and found a dozen roses from him. "Just because" the card had read.
"I know you wouldn't have treated me the way he did." I told him reassuringly. I thought about my dilemma. "Can I pose a hypothetical?" I found myself asking.
Freddie grunted his assent.
"What if we were more than friends? Do you think it would work?"
He didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, "I have wondered that too."
"And..." I prompted.
"I would prefer to be driving myself around before I get a serious girlfriend."
I almost laughed. I, too, would prefer a boyfriend who could drive himself, but it would be half way through the summer before that could happen.
"Well how about a girlfriend who's not so serious." I asked carefully.
"Not so serious?" He asked, raising his head.
"Well there is no point in getting serious. Its not fair to expect a boyfriend to remain faithful when his girlfriend is three hours away." I told him logically. "I have never been a fan of long distance relationships."
Frederick did not answer.
"It was stupid of me to enter this conversation." I said suddenly, and came to my feet.
The concert had let out, and people were appearing, including the friends Freddie had driven over with.
"You had better go." I said, shifting on my feet.
"Yeah." Freddie answered, standing up. "I'll call you tomorrow." He made a move to escort me to my car. I followed quietly, and opened my door. I say down and put the keys in the ignition. Freddie just stood there, and so I slumped against the seat.
And then suddenly, he was on his knees. "Anne Eliot, will you go out with me?" He took my hand in his before bringing it to his lips.
I laughed nervously, blushing to the roots of my hair. "Oh no..." I managed. "Are you sure? I mean, I'm not a nice person, really. I can be a real b*tch sometimes."
Frederick smirked at me and I couldn't help but smile. "Is that a no then?" He asked, not entirely seriously.
"No." I said softly.
"And so it's a yes." He pressed.
"Yes." I replied, trying not to look him in the face. "But just for the summer, right?"
"Right." He answered. "Can I stand up now?"
"Yes!" I said, my embarrassment returning. He smirked again and stood up. "I'll call you tomorrow."
I nodded and he disappeared.
I was ecstatic as I drove home, but as I pulled into the drive, I thought about Aunt Russell.
"Better not tell her yet." I thought, as I locked up the car.
I entered the house quietly and went to clean up. As I came out of the bathroom, Aunt Russell stood in the door of my bedroom.
"Good concert?" She inquired.
"Yeah," I replied uneasily, almost guiltily.
"Did Freddie go with you?"
"Yeah." I moved to put away my dirty clothes.
"Anne, I think..."
"Freddie and I are going out now." I blurted suddenly. I smiled, trying to shrug off the silence that ensued.
"You should leave that boy alone." That was all she said.
"Its all right, really. It's just for the summer; we both know that it is impossible to keep up a long distance relationship."
Aunt Russell quirked her brow. "Good night, Anne."
I watched her leave, and in her place, a feeling of dread consumed me.
Chapter Four
The feeling of dread could not be shaken. Aunt Russell's cryptic words followed my every step.
"Leave that boy alone." The words echoed through my head, and competed against my happiness in being Freddie's girlfriend.
But it was not to last.
I have never been a clingy girl--I have always been self-sufficient. I am not overly demonstrative. I had truly become the Ice Queen.
And so my initial happiness with Frederick was short lived. I thought it would be fun for us--fun for me. I had never had a fling with a boy and Freddie had never had anything with a girl.
His inexperience was painful. Within days of his "proposal" I was already feeling smothered. And things got worse. By the time he left a humanitarian aid trip to the Dominican Republic, I was more than happy to see him go. And by the time he came back, I had left with some friends for the beach.
And so our relationship extended to two weeks of not even having each other around. By the time, we were in the same place again, I was ready to call things off.
I spoke to him on the phone the night I returned. And suddenly I found myself blurting out, "I don't think this is working."
"What - huh?" Frederick said, stopping in mid-sentence.
"We should break - we should take a break."
Dead silence.
"Oh Freddie its not you - its me!" I declared, trying with all of my heart to convince him.
More silence.
"Its just that - I am not used to, all the attention you give me." I told him gently.
"Not used to being treated like a human being, you mean." He corrected. "Charles was a spineless ... He was bad for you."
"I know. And that's why I can't handle you right now. I just need some space."
More silence and then finally, "But I love you."
My heart slammed into my chest. But then the words rolled easily off my tongue. "No you don't - it's your hormones." My statement was matter-of-fact. It did not seem cruel to my ears, just realistic. I believed that love and high school did not mix.
"We just should be friends - you are my best friend." I told him quietly, trying to placate his ego.
"You're my only friend." I heard him say huskily.
"Nonsense - you are friends with half of the rising junior class."
"They are not my real friends." He said quickly.
Who was? High school was a dangerous game of ins and outs. You had to know what you were doing.
"The point is - you have done nothing wrong. And we will continue as we have always had." I found myself saying. "That's okay, right?"
"Yeah." The country twang was soft.
"Good." I said, feeling relieved. But deep down there was a twinge of something...guilt, regret, what?
I didn't know ... and perhaps I didn't want to.
I stared at the blinking cursor, and at the colored words that conveyed Freddie's message.
"Are you home now?" It said.
"Yes, I am." I typed, thinking I must have lost all of my conversation skills.
"I am sure you had a nice time." He wrote back.
"Yes, I did. Paris was spectacular and clean. Everyone has told me that it is disgustingly dirty. But it wasn't. I was very pleased with the city."
"That's nice."
I frowned. That was Frederick's customary way of saying that he could not give a care. He hated travel. The very thought of not being able to wander the world made me cringe. My personal motto was, "All who wander are not lost."
"Have you been sailing lately?" I asked him, changing the subject.
"Not really. Been hanging out at the house mostly."
How boring, I thought, but replied, "Oh."
"So - are you going to be around for the summer...?"
Why do you care, I wanted to type. Perhaps he was wanting to ignore me the way he had since I had left for school so long ago.
"Yes, I will be. I have a few short trips planned, but beyond that, my slate is clean for once."
"We need to get together sometime." He replied.
My brows rose. This was odd. Extremely odd. It was only two weeks ago that we had gone out to eat with his sister Sophia and her husband. He had been surly and unpleasant; in addition to refusing to go with me to the city after dinner. "I have things to do." He had said, and then added, "Not to be rude or anything."
I had wanted to yell, "Yes, you are being rude!" But I had not. I kept my tongue - just like a practiced Ice Queen.
"You want to get together?" I finally asked.
"Yeah, like old times perhaps."
"No," I immediately responded. "Not like old times, but I would not mind getting together. Provided that you are not rude like the last time we were together." See how he likes that, I thought.
"I apologize about the last time. I was sort of seeing somebody - I don't believe in hanging out with other girls when I interested in one."
"That's weird!" I immediately shot back. "When you alienate your friends, they turn their backs on you."
"Yeah." He responded.
"May I ask you she was?" I finally typed, trepidation filling me up.
"You don't know her - Louisa Musgrove."
"Never heard of her." I replied, feeling relief wash over me. Freddie had been interested in several girls over the past years - -girls I had known. He had never failed to fill me in on his romantic exploits whenever we ran into each other online. Of course I had shot back the details about my most recent foray in the dating world. But that was over now.
"So I take it that its over between you and this Louisa?" I found myself asking, hating myself for even caring.
"Pretty much so." He replied.
Evasive, I thought. But of course, he was always good about that.
"So what did you have in mind - about getting together, I mean." I replied cautiously.
"Movie, perhaps?"
"A movie is fine." I answered. Just like old times...
"I'll call you then." He answered swiftly.
"Okay." I replied and disconnected.
Of all the things to happen in a lazy summer in the equally lazy country.
After all of the fighting and bad words, I never thought I would be meeting Freddie Wentworth for a movie. I never thought we would be anything but friends turned enemies. But then again, I could always be wrong.
Chapter Five
I was sure that Frederick was just in one of his reconciliatory moods. His attempts to repair our past dealings had been numerous. I could count on two hands how many times (over the past three years) that he had come crawling back, asking for forgiveness. With each time, I had forgiven him, wishing that we could go back to better days. But with every attempt for reconciliation, our relationship only worsened.
It was not long after my move to university that Frederick began to change. In fact, only two months had passed before he shut me out completely. Of course, I sent him barrages of letters, begging him to reconsider. He would not; and whenever I saw him in Uppercross, he made it clear that he no longer wanted to know me.
He entrenched himself with his "friends" and forgot about me. I became bitter, but I never failed to listen to his apologies when he came back. Eventually, he stopped coming back. It was a vicious cycle of apologies, acceptances, misunderstandings, and then utter contempt for each other. We both tired of it, and we spent a good year having nothing to do with each other. We spent another year taking cheap shots at each other, and then another just being ambivalent.
Despite my sheer irritation with him, I never stopped ... feeling. Whenever I saw him, it was a wash of memories. But he... he was as cold as he could be. No emotions ever crossed his face. And when we met online, our conversations dissolved into shouting matches. He didn't like the fact that I was a city girl; I didn't like the way he refused to understand me. We were hopeless.
And yet, here we were again. I didn't trust him, and deep down, I knew he would turn his back once more.
I do have to admit that I was vaguely surprised when he called the next afternoon.
When I heard his voice on the line, I was shocked.
"Howdy," He said.
"Hi." I managed, still in shock.
"What are you up to?"
"Just watching some television." I replied cautiously.
"Sounds fun."
"Yeah, I guess." I answered, feeling awkward.
"So..." He said.
"Yes?"
"Your turn." He told me.
"My turn? What for?"
"To talk." He replied easily.
"You are the one who called." I reminded him.
"Touché." He replied.
I blinked. Touché? When did he start using such words?
"Well, you still want to see a movie tonight?" He asked finally.
"Tonight?" I answered.
"Yeah, we can meet about 9 or so." He told me.
"I guess - sounds fine." I replied; my surprise returning.
"Right. I'll see you then."
"Okay." I said, and hung up the phone.
I was going out with Frederick Wentworth. "Not going out, going out..." I reminded myself aloud.
I looked to the clock. It was four o'clock. "Five hours." I told myself, and tried to sit down again. I was going to be on pins and needles. Why should I be though? We would see a movie, promise to call each other, and then he would drop off the face of the planet again. It was simple, it was predictable.
And it was not something I wanted.