The Poison Season(58)

Leelo’s thoughts turned to Jaren once again when she saw the sheer number of people who had gathered, but she knew the songs they sang tonight would be harmless, mostly. Even her mother seemed pleased to be there, and she avoided most of Endla’s ceremonies. She said they took too much out of her, which Leelo had always chalked up to her mother’s introverted, quiet manner.

But as the sun went down, Fiona seemed quite satisfied with the elderberry wine and various dishes Aunt Ketty continued to bring to her, where she sat in the shade of an oak tree. Content that her mother was being well looked after, Leelo chatted with some of the people she hadn’t seen since the ceremony. Vance admired Leelo’s dress, just as she had last time. Sage stood with Hollis, talking animatedly about saints knew what, but certainly not looking for Leelo. She passed a table full of perfect miniature cupcakes dusted with icing sugar and topped with fresh strawberries. She only meant to take one for herself, but then she took a second.

She knew Jaren would love it.

She knew she would love watching him eat it.

It had taken a lot for her to admit to Jaren that she liked him, though she assumed he already knew. Partly she had wanted to get this secret off her chest, and partly she had wanted—had hoped, desperately—to hear him say he liked her, too. When he did, she felt both relieved and alive in a way she’d never felt before. She didn’t know if this was what would be considered courting; she’d never spent enough time with a boy to learn much beyond their peculiar habits and, as they got older, their even more peculiar smells. All she knew was that she went to the cottage feeling nervous or tired or guilty, and she left feeling... She wasn’t sure she could describe it.

But she wanted that feeling now.

Perhaps it was the two small cups of elderberry wine that were making her feel so reckless. She noted that her head seemed pleasantly disconnected from her body and her lips were a little numb. She had made Jaren promise to stay as far away from the festival as possible. Going to him now could compromise his safety—not to mention her own—all for the sake of watching him eat a strawberry. And, if she was being honest, so he could see her in this dress. It almost seemed a waste not to go to him.

If anyone noticed she was gone, they would attribute it to the wine, or the darkness, or how all the children looked the same in the firelight. And by then, it would be too late to stop her.

Leelo might have changed her mind at any point on her way to the cottage, but before she knew it, she had arrived. She stood among the trees for a moment, straightening her hair with her free hand, then slapping her cheeks lightly to clear her head.

She glanced up a moment later to see Jaren standing in the open door of the cottage. It was twilight, and he hadn’t lit his candle yet. The thought of him sitting alone in the dark sent an ache through her, and she was glad she’d come, that at least for a little while, he wouldn’t be alone.

Far away, she could hear the faint singing from the festival. And if she could hear it... Without thinking, she rushed forward, shoving him back into the cottage so hard he tripped over the threshold and landed on his backside in the nest of blankets.

Leelo slammed the door shut behind her and dropped to her knees, grabbing Jaren roughly by the face and turning his head from side to side.

She sighed in relief when she saw the creamy tufts of wool in his ears. Jaren’s mouth quirked in a grin. Suddenly, she realized she was practically on top of him. Flushing furiously, she started to lean back, but Jaren’s hand caught her waist, stopping her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, a little too loudly because of the wool.

Leelo strained to listen, but she couldn’t hear the singing inside the cottage. Hesitantly, with tingling fingers, she plucked the wool from his ears. With his face so close to hers and his body heat warming her through the thin fabric of her dress, it took a moment to remember why she’d come in the first place.

She lifted the little cake in her left hand, frowning when she saw that in her haste, she had squished it against his tunic. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

But Jaren wasn’t looking at the cake. He was looking at her mouth. Her head spun a little, and she wasn’t sure if it was the wine or Jaren. Probably both. She thought of the islanders who would get engaged tonight, of the look on her mother’s face when she’d spoken about how you knew when you liked someone. You think about them all the time...your heart races when your eyes meet...

She didn’t just like Jaren, though. She wanted him. She wanted him to want her. The next thing she knew she was leaning forward, pressing her mouth to his.

When his hand slid beneath her hair to cup the nape of her neck, she let the crumbled cake fall, freeing her hand so she could touch his own soft waves, her fingers tangling in the silken strands. He smiled against her lips, and she would have laughed if she wasn’t too busy kissing him. This, she decided, was far better than any cake.

He eased his lips free of hers after a moment. “Leelo,” he said, his gray eyes a little hooded. “As much as I enjoyed this greeting, I feel it is my duty to point out that you’ve been drinking.”

She sat back, self-conscious that he’d smelled the wine on her breath. But he didn’t look angry or disgusted, just mildly amused. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head a little to clear it. “I don’t know what came over me.”

He handed her his waterskin. “Elderberry wine, by the taste of things.”