The Holders - By Julianna Scott Page 0,30

down again. I shouldn’t have laid all my father issues on someone who was inexplicably one of the guy’s biggest fans.

“No, please,” he said shaking his head. After a few silent moments he asked, “Do you want to go back up? I can tell you about Ryla–”

“No,” I snapped, turning away, “I don’t want to talk about Ryland, or… any of it.” I could tell he was just trying to find me a distraction, but much as I didn’t want to talk about Jocelyn, hearing about Mr I’m-suddenly-too-cool-for-my-sister, wasn’t going to help my mood either.

“Right,” Alex said quietly, “I’m sorry, I’ll…”

When he didn’t finish his thought I turned around, only to find him walking away.

“No,” I called, jogging after him and catching his arm, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” I looked up at him imploringly – and probably a bit desperately. “Please don’t go.”

Only when he went to leave did I realize how much I wanted him with me. I couldn’t explain it, but for some reason I felt better with him nearby. As much as I didn’t want to talk about Ryland right now, the thought of him leaving me alone was worse.

He slowly smiled, his eyes lighting up a bit before he turned and looked over his shoulder. “Here,” he said, “come.”

I followed him about a hundred yards or so around the perimeter of the lake until we reached a large willow tree, the branches of which were so long that most of them brushed the ground. As we got closer, I could see a circular stone bench wrapping all the way around the base of the trunk. There were wide steps leading from the foot of the bench down to the lake, though parts were overgrown with grass and moss and obviously hadn’t been used in a while.

“What is all this?” I asked.

“They used to hold biology classes out here before they moved the science building across campus,” he told me, holding aside a few of the low hanging branches so I could walk through. “I come down here a lot.”

We sat together on the bench and looked out over the lake. The steel-gray afternoon sky was reflected on the surface, turning the entire lake to liquid silver. I closed my eyes and took a long breath of the cool, misty air.

“It’s so beautiful here,” I sighed, leaning back against the trunk of the tree.

“Really?” he asked, sounding something between surprised and hopeful. “You think so?”

“Sure, don’t you?”

“I do.” He nodded. “I love it here. More than anywhere else I’ve ever been. But a lot of people think it’s gloomy.”

“No,” I said, looking out over the water. “It’s not gloomy. They just don’t get it.”

I glanced back over to find him looking at me with a goosebump-inducing look on his face. When I smiled, he looked away quickly and cleared his throat. “No,” he said, as if it were no big deal. “They don’t.”

We sat pleasantly for several minutes, not saying anything, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I was perfectly happy with this until my thoughts started to turn back to Jocelyn, at which point I decided conversation would probably be the best way to go. Better yet, this might also give me a chance to learn a little more about Alex.

I rested my head against the tree, turning to face him. “So, Alexander.”

“Yes, Rebecca?” he asked, mimicking my tone with a suspicious grin.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I want to hear about you,” I said matter-of-factly, pulling my feet up onto the bench and lacing my hands together over my knees.

“What would you like to know?” he asked with a smile.

I shrugged. “I don’t know… Where were you born? How did you get here? What’s your middle name? Favorite movies, food, books – whatever. Take your pick.”

He hesitated as though what I’d asked him was far more important than a simple conversation starter. “Well,” he said, resting his head back against the trunk of the tree, “I didn’t grow up with many movies, but I have seen almost every animated Disney film that’s come out, so if I had to pick one of those I’d have to go with the Emperor’s New Groove.”

“That is a good one,” I laughed.

“My favorite food is macaroni and cheese, which, by the way, you will not find a good version anywhere in this country,” he said, glancing at me with amused irritation. “Let’s see, what else… I never learned how to swim, I love Sherlock Holmes novels, and

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