The Snow Prince - Raleigh Ruebins Page 0,3

across the yard. “But when you start shivering and need to huddle close to me for warmth, I’m going to say I told you so.”

Henry had no clue how badly I wanted that. Hell, I would have gone out in the cold totally naked if it meant that Henry would hold me close.

My crush was getting a little out of hand these days.

I crept over to my closet, tossing on two layers of long-sleeve shirts and my heavy grey winter coat. I tugged on a pair of pants and boots before sliding out of my window into the deep blue night outside.

I could see Henry’s breath from behind the cluster of mature pine trees on the other side of the street. There was a small green park across the street from our houses where Christmas trees and firewood were sold in the fall. The vendors had long since shut down for the night.

Henry was sitting between two trees on a pile of logs that an old man named Roger sold for firewood during the day. That was the kind of village that Berrydale was. Roger trusted that no one would take his firewood at night, leaving it there at the edge of the park. He’d never had a single log go missing.

I sat down next to Henry, scooting into a comfortable position where I was hidden enough by the trees on either side of us. Nobody was around, but my eyes still flitted up every few seconds, checking that the coast was clear.

“So you brought alcohol,” I said.

He nodded. “And cookies.”

“Of course.”

He proffered the packet of Cocoa Bites and I took one, chewing as I contemplated drinking alcohol. The most liquor I’d ever had was a few sips of red wine with dinners. My mother had always let me try it during the holidays, saying that it made me a more “worldly” person.

I’d never liked the taste of alcohol, but as I watched Henry uncap the tiny bottle of orange liqueur and bring it to his lips, the desire to put my lips in that same place was immense.

He passed me the bottle and I went all in, swallowing past the syrupy-sweet burn in my throat.

I cleared my throat. “Tastes weird.”

“Kind of awful,” he agreed. “But also kind of nice, right?”

“I guess I like the orange flavor,” I said.

Another few minutes passed. The night was dead quiet other than the occasional gust of wind rustling through the pines. Henry and I traded the tiny bottle back and forth a few times, and I started to like the taste more and more. The alcohol was warming my blood.

It felt like Henry and I were on borrowed time now. I didn’t feel like I had much in life, but tonight I had this, a completely private moment between only the two of us, the scent of freshly cut wood and sweet orange filling the air.

I let out a long breath, leaning back a little on the pile of firewood.

“I don’t want to go back,” I said.

He nodded. “I know you don’t,” he said. “But it’s only three weeks. You’ll be back here soon.”

“Not soon enough,” I said, shaking my head.

“What’s so bad about it, anyway? It’s a castle, for God’s sake, it’s pretty much the coolest place you could possibly live.”

“Not really.”

“Is it bad inside? Like a vampire’s den? Haunted or something?” Henry asked. I could hear the change in his voice when he said the word haunted.

I puffed out a laugh. “Yeah. It’s full of ghosts.”

“Well, then I’m glad your mom’s never let me come visit you there. I’m good staying in places that aren’t haunted, thank you very much.”

“The castle isn’t haunted by anything other than the memory of my father, I guess.”

“Right,” Henry said, his voice soft. “Your mom really misses him. I can always tell.”

“You barely even know my mom,” I said.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Even when she comes to pick you up. She always says things about him. Your father would have liked this. Your father would be proud of that.”

“She never leaves me alone about how much she misses him,” I said, shaking my head and looking up at the dark grey sky. “How much she wants me to be like him. How I need to do everything right, or I’ll tarnish his legacy. He’s been gone for ten years now. But it’s like… the more time passes, the more Mom wants me to be like him.”

“You’ve got more pressure on you than anyone I know.