Hardy raised his eyes long enough to give Cheyenne a withering look. “Shut up, Cheyenne. I’m not stalking anybody,” he mumbled testily.
“Could’ve fooled me. It seems like you turn up everywhere she is. Isn’t that the definition of stalking?”
There was that word again. Hardy glanced up once more, his icy eyes locking with Cheyenne’s fiery ones. “Be very careful, Cheyenne,” Hardy cautioned in a deadly calm voice.
The warning was not lost on Cheyenne. With a huff, she turned around in her seat and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the class. Unfortunately, that only provided Hardy with one less distraction from pining away for the curiously-absent Miracle.
His mood plummeted after that. Hardy thought about skipping lunch. If Miracle was absent, there was no chance of seeing her at lunch and he had no interest in participating in the social practices of the cafeteria. On the other hand, he also realized his rowdy lunch group was his best chance of finding distraction, so he went. It turned out to be fairly painless; his friends were very entertaining, even to someone in his current state. They provided a sufficient diversion until the bell rang. Then he was right back into his melancholy mood.
Hardy took out his phone to text Miracle at least a dozen times, each time talking himself out of it. First of all, he didn’t know under what guise he could even reach out to her. Secondly, he had no idea how she would feel about him texting her. He knew that the bill was a concern for her, but they’d also just met. What if she thought it was too soon? Or too forward?
By fourth period, Hardy found that his concerns had taken a back seat to his need to hear from Miracle. He broke down and sent her a text, one as casual as he could manage in his increasingly desperate state.
Playing hooky?
He sat staring at the bright screen of his phone, at those two words, for the remainder of fourth period. He never got an answer. Throughout fifth period, Hardy was sure he must’ve checked his phone at least forty times, maybe more, all to no avail. The screen held only his two words. No response. No word from Miracle.
On his way to sixth period, Hardy debated blowing off photography to go by Miracle’s house, but what if Jonah was there? What if she was skipping school to be with him? The closer he got to class and the longer his phone was silent, the darker Hardy’s mood grew.
Mr. Gault started class in his usual manner, but Hardy was too distracted to pay much attention. He couldn’t be sure how many times Mr. Gault called his name before managing to rouse Hardy from his miserable self-absorption.
“Mr. Bradford! Wake up!”
Hardy started. “Oh. Sorry, Mr. Gault. What did you say?”
“I said that your assignment is with Ms. St. James in the conservatory.”
“She’s not here today.”
“Of course she is. She just got to class early. She’s already outside.”
Hardy had no idea what else Mr. Gault said. He had picked up his camera bag and was out of his seat and out the door before he finished. He made himself slow down, realizing he’d look like a lunatic if he was seen running to the conservatory when there wasn’t a fire. After all, that would be the only acceptable circumstance under which to run anywhere in school—a fire. But in his heart, Hardy was already running to Miracle, running to the person who made him feel whole and somehow happier than he ever thought he could be.
When he opened the door to the conservatory, he was completely deflated to find it empty. The room was filled with nothing but plants, hot air and the sweet scent of the orchids. Hardy was just about to leave and go look for Miracle elsewhere when a hint of lavender reached his nose. Letting the door shut quietly behind him, Hardy walked the length of the conservatory to the bend that led to the orchids.
And there she was.
CHAPTER TEN
Miracle had her back to him. A shaft of sunlight was shining down onto her, making the red tones of her brown hair glisten like burnished gold. She was standing still as a statue, observing a single bee as it buzzed from blossom to blossom among the orchids. Hardy knew the fascination she felt as she watched. He felt the same way when he watched her.
Just as he was about to reach out and draw her into his arms like he’d wanted to do every minute since he’d met her, he remembered Jonah’s arrival in her life and he stopped himself. Instead, he quietly called her name, hoping not to startle her.
“Miracle.”
She whirled around, a big smile on her face. “Hey! You’re late,” she teased with a wink.
“At least I attended all my classes today, unlike some people,” he said pointedly, clearing his throat.
“Well, some people had appointments they couldn’t miss.”
Hardy could’ve cut his tongue right out of his mouth. He hadn’t even considered that she might’ve had a doctor’s appointment, although he should have, considering her history. Would it be rude to ask what happened or if she was all right?
As he silently deliberated, Miracle was already moving on. “So, would it be possible to actually photograph these orchids when they open at night? I think they would make some amazing pictures, not to mention that it would be wicked cool to see something like that.”
As usual, Hardy was caught off guard by her charm. “Wicked cool?”
Miracle grinned. “Yeah, wicked cool. You got a problem with that?”
“No, ma’am,” Hardy said quickly, holding his hands up as if in surrender. Miracle giggled and Hardy knew he would replay the sound over and over again in his head. “So, what’s our assignment today then?”
“Bugs.”
“Bugs?”
“Bugs.”
“O-kay, then why are we in here?”
“Well, I’m sure there are bugs aplenty in here, but this isn’t where we are supposed to be working. I just wanted to come in here and look at the flowers again, so Mr. Gault said he’d send you out here to meet me.”
Hardy made a mental note to thank Mr. Gault one day for doing him a solid. “Okay, so where did he suggest we go to find the best insects to photograph then?”
“The woods, of course.”
“The woods? There are no woods around here.”
Miracle’s grin screamed mischief. “Well, there are a few advantages to being a cancer survivor. Mr. Gault was nice enough to agree to let us go out to the woods behind my house to complete our assignment. I mean, travel is a part of the waiver that we all had to have our parents sign for this class, right?”
Hardy had to laugh. “You are an evil genius.”
Miracle curtsied. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”
As her lips curled into a wider smile, Miracle’s eyes sparkled. As usual, Hardy had to restrain himself from devouring her. “I’ll drive,” he said quickly, grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind him. He knew they had to get out of there before he did something stupid.
Hardy tried to ignore how her fingers squeezed tightly around his and how she scrambled to keep up with him. She followed so closely behind him that he could feel her br**sts press into his back when he stopped to open the door.
The two walked briskly across campus toward the student parking lot. Excitement buzzed between them as if they were sneaking away to an illicit rendezvous. Hardy wondered if Miracle could feel it. By the time they’d gotten into his car, however, that risqué feeling had subsided into awkwardness. Hardy hoped she couldn’t feel that. She didn’t seem to; she seemed as peaceful as always, staring quietly out the window at the passing landscape as he drove.
When the silence had stretched beyond Hardy’s comfort level, he cleared his throat and broached the subject that had been eating at him for hours.
“So, Jonah…”
Miracle turned to look at him. She smiled and nodded, but said nothing. Hardy could see that she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He’d have to do some digging.
“Ex-boyfriend?” he asked hopefully, stressing the “ex.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Miracle paused, sighing deeply. “Like most people, he freaked out about my cancer. Most everyone does eventually. Some just take a little longer to bail than others.”
Hardy was genuinely puzzled. “Why? I mean, why would he freak out? Why would anyone freak out, other than to be afraid for you?”
Miracle studied him, a frown slowly puckering her brow. “You really don’t see, do you?”
“See what?”
“See what a burden someone like me is. How hard it is to live with someone like me, to love someone like me,” she said, glancing down, away from his eyes to stare absently at a fingernail at which she picked.
“No, I don’t. I can’t imagine how you, of all people, could be a burden to anyone. And I certainly don’t think you’re hard to love.” When Miracle’s eyes snapped up to meet his, Hardy hurried to elaborate. “I mean, I can’t imagine that you would be hard to love just because of your condition.”
Miracle smiled a sad smile and looked away again. “Well, you, Mom and Mila are the only ones who feel that way. Trust me.”
“What about your dad?” The question was out before Hardy could stop it. He wished desperately that he could’ve retrieved it before it reached Miracle’s ears. It was likely a painful topic, one he should have let her tell him about in her own time.
“He gave up a long, long time ago. I had problems with my kidneys for years before they found cancer. He couldn’t handle the piles of bills and the never-ending trips to the doctor. There were a lot of hard days and long nights. So he left.”
Hardy didn’t know what to say. He had a few choice names for a low-life such as that, but he doubted Miracle wanted to hear any of them. So, he sat quietly, listening.
“He wasn’t the first to go and I’m sure he won’t be the last.”
“And yet you still seem to like people, to give them the benefit of the doubt. Why? How?”
Miracle shrugged. “I don’t blame them any more than I blame him. Some people just aren’t cut out for a tough life. Some people are. You can’t blame them for the way they’re made.”
“No, but you shouldn’t let them off the hook so easily. Weak or not, people are still responsible for doing the right thing, still accountable for their actions.”
Miracle looked at Hardy over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s easier to just let it go. It hurts a lot less.”
Her words cut through Hardy’s heart like a white-hot scalpel. She’d been hurt so much and so deeply, she’d just quit expecting more from the people around her. She’d learned to live with less, much, much less than what she deserved.
“Well, I don’t treat people that way, so you don’t have to worry about me bailing on you, too.”
Miracle’s jewel-like eyes bored into his. It seemed as though she could see straight into his soul, as if she sought the truth. Hardy could see by the look in her eyes that she found it. He meant what he said and she knew it.
“You’re the stuff dreams are made of, Hardy Bradford,” she said wistfully.
Although his heart swelled at her words, Hardy still felt the presence of Jonah between them as though he was riding in the back seat. Miracle hadn’t really defined her current relationship with him, hadn’t really answered Hardy’s question in the way he’d wanted.
Before he could find a way to pursue the subject without seeming fixated on Jonah, they had arrived at Miracle’s house.
“Just park along the curb,” she advised. “Mom and Mila won’t be home for a while yet.”
When Hardy pushed the gearshift into park and cut the engine, Miracle jumped out of the car. He grabbed his camera bag and quickly followed.
“Mind if I change first?” she asked.
A thousand inappropriate thoughts ran through Hardy’s mind, but he maintained his composure and uttered a cool, “No, go right ahead.”
“Come on,” Miracle said, indicating with a tip of her head that he should follow her. Of course, Hardy didn’t hesitate. Miracle let them in through the front door and closed it behind Hardy once he was inside. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good, but thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
She turned to walk away, but Hardy stopped her. “Can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure,” she said with a smile. “It’s this way.”
Miracle showed Hardy to a small bathroom at the end of a short hallway that shot off the kitchen. Hardy noticed that every wall in the entire house was painted a cheery yellow. At least every wall he’d seen so far.
After he’d used the bathroom and washed his hands, Hardy opened the door to make his way back to the living room. Directly across from the bathroom, Miracle was coming out of what Hardy assumed was her bedroom. As if she’d forgotten something, she turned and ducked quickly back inside. Unable to stop himself, Hardy crossed the hall and stopped just outside the opening.
He couldn’t imagine a room suiting her more perfectly. The walls, unlike the predominant yellow of the rest of the house, were a pale, soothing lilac. All the furniture in the room as well as the comforter and pillows were creamy white, but for a blanket draped across the foot of the bed and the curtains; they were covered in flowers of pink, lilac, mint green and yellow. The room was soft and feminine, tranquil and cheerful, everything that Miracle was, all wrapped up within four walls. The air even smelled like her, Hardy noticed as he inhaled the scent of lavender.
Miracle stepped out of what Hardy guessed was her closet, tugging at a shoe she’d apparently just donned. All thoughts of the room left his mind, chased away by the sight of her.