It was long dark when I crept out of my room. Diya’s melodious snores filled the cottage, assuring my smooth departure. Diya could sleep through Spring Fest if it weren’t for the food.
I was out in the cold night air, my breath rising in puffs before me. I thought about turning around and creeping back up to my warm bed. But then the image of Bevan’s hopeful face filled my eyes and I trudged determinedly forward.
It wasn’t till I was halfway up the village path when I noticed how quiet it was. Every light was out, leaving me with only the moon for guidance. Why couldn’t I have done this late afternoon.
Because I’d been sleeping. That’s why.
I had been too lazy to go over, perhaps to scared.
At least now he won’t be able to identify me if he saw me somehow.
I stumbled a few times in the transparent darkness. Bevan’s cottage was on the far side of the village.
Every now and then an owl cooed, a chicken clucked. How late was it exactly? When I reached the cottage I didn’t actually know what to do. It dawned on me how stupid it had been to come at night. How would I be able to tell if he was there or not?
The cottage was pretty much silent. I turned to leave, marveling at my foolishness.
“Astrid?” a voice whispered from behind a few barrels standing next to the little fence.
I whirled around to see Gregon creeping out from his hiding place.
“What are you doing here?” I asked perplexed. It was sometime after midnight, well past Gregon’s bedtime.
“The same thing you are,” he said darkly, walking towards the cottage. “I’ve been watching the cottage since noon, waiting for the bastard to come out.”
It struck me suddenly how menacing Gregon looked. I had never heard a bad word coming out of his mouth, and it was weird to hear him talk about an adult like that.
“What makes you think I was watching for him?” I asked with a frown. “I’m here to see if Bevan came back.”
“Come on Astrid,” Gregon said. “Why would you see if he came back at the dead of night?”
When I wasn’t quick enough to give him an answer, he laughed.
“Everyone knows you’ve been going to see him. You and Bevan never could be separated.”
This was really weird. What happened to the playful careless round-faced boy who was too busy catching frogs to notice anything beyond his pond?
“If they do, then why didn’t Orrin come to find me?” I asked, a hint of acid in my voice I hadn’t meant to use.
Gregon stared up at me. “He was busy with other things.” The bitterness in voice was almost unbearable. I knew something must have happened between them.
My voice was softer now, piteous. “Does your mother know where you are?”
Gregon looked at the ground, giving me the answer. “Why would I tell her? She’s the one who –“
Gregon fell silent. He stared back at the cottage. I turned to see what was wrong. A soft light was glowing through one of the windows. It grew steadily brighter and larger as the carrier of the candle came nearer to the window.
Gregon and I scampered. I stumbled over an empty barrel in my way, falling painfully to the dirt. Gregon didn’t stop. I scrambled to my feet, falling over them in my hurry to get away.
In my haste I thought I heard a faint tune coming from the house. Someone humming sadly in the distance.
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