I swallowed again, my throat now filled with a heavy mix of gratitude, guilt, and fear. Noelle wasn’t going to be texting anyone any time soon. She might never see her grandmother again. That was, unless this crazy plan of mine worked. “Upton, thank you so much. Really. You’re a lifesaver.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “But this’ll be fun.”
“Whatever you say,” I replied with a grin. “Thanks, Upton.”
Just then there was a quick rap on my door and it started to open.
“No worries, Reed. Cheers!” Upton said as Josh walked into my room. Josh took one look at the screen and stopped in his tracks. My face burned brighter than the winter sun outside my window.
“Bye!” I replied as I slapped the laptop closed.
I turned around in my chair, my heart pounding in my temples and my palms slick with sweat. Josh looked at me quizzically. How much of Upton’s half-naked body had he actually seen?
“Who was that?” he asked.
“No one. Just an old friend,” I replied. “He lives in England and he knows the Langes, so he’s going to help us get the excuse note.”
“Oh,” Josh said, his voice flat. “That’s good, then.”
“Good? It’s incredible. Now I don’t have to find a way to get to Paris and back today. Not to mention a way to pay for it.” I got up and tried to go about getting my things together as if everything was normal, but Josh was still staring at me.
“Yeah. I’d say that’s definitely a plus,” he said eventually. “So, ready for breakfast?”
“Yeah,” I replied, avoiding eye contact as I grabbed my coat and slipped by him out the door. I glanced back at my computer, as if Upton was going to be sitting there, shirtless and waving at me. “Let’s get out of here.”
I sat on the stone bench outside the Easton student post office on Saturday morning. I kicked at the snow, waiting for the FedEx truck to arrive. Upton had texted me to let me know my package would be here, but it couldn’t come fast enough. Noelle had already missed two days of school with no explanation. What if Headmaster Hathaway had called her parents? What if he was calling them right this very moment? I imagined a helicopter blowing all the snow off the trees as it landed in the center of the quad, and Noelle’s handsome father stepping out, the picture of concern and determination, ready to consult with the FBI task force, ready to do anything and spare no expense to find his daughter.
Which would, of course, make it look like I’d broken the whole “don’t tell her parents” rule. Yeah. If this didn’t work, I was screwed.
A frigid breeze stung my face and I tugged my scarf up over my nose. I should have gone inside the post office and warmed up, but I wanted to see the truck arrive. I needed to be there when it pulled up.
After what seemed like an Antarctic eternity, I heard the rumble of an engine. A white truck came around the bend, its sides caked with muddy snow splatters. It ground to a stop behind the post office and the driver yanked on the emergency brake, leaving the engine idling. After he’d gathered his deliveries from the back, I ran for the door of the post office and held it open for him.
Please just don’t let there have been any mix-ups, I thought silently as I pressed my lips into a tight smile. Please, please, please let it be there.
“Thanks,” the delivery guy said, eyeing me with surprise. I guess not a lot of private school girls had held doors open for him in the past.
“No problem.”
I stood on my toes, trying to see the names on his armful of packages. He held them tighter to his chest and shot me an admonishing glance.
Biting back my frustration, I trailed him over to the mail window. Mrs. Morrison, the most elderly of all the elderly mail people employed by Easton Academy, groaned as she pushed herself off her stool and placed her Sudoku puzzle and pencil down behind the counter. I knew the protocol. Mrs. Morrison had to log everything in first before my package could be signed over to me. If there was, in fact, a package for me.
I bounced up and down on my toes in an attempt to bring some feeling back into them. Also because I couldn’t have stayed still if a sumo wrestler had walked into the room, thrown me to the floor, and sat down on my chest.
The FedEx guy placed five packages down on the countertop–two boxes and three flat letters. My heart seized up when I spied Upton’s scrawled handwriting on one of the envelopes. I clutched my gloved hands together, doing all I could do to keep from snatching it.
“Do you mind, miss?” the delivery dude asked, glancing down at me. “You’re a little close.”
“Sorry,” I said, mortified. I backed away and waited for him and Mrs. Morrison to complete the transaction, then gave him an apologetic smile as he left the office.
“Here you go, Miss Brennan,” Mrs. Morrison croaked, her voice hoarse from about sixty years of cigarette smoking. She pushed the letter across the small countertop to me and I quickly signed the slip. “What is it that’s got you so bouncy? A love letter?” she asked, raising one eyebrow slyly.
“Something like that,” I replied. I turned around, tearing into the envelope like a rabid dog. Inside was a sealed, cream-colored envelope with the words “Headmaster Hathaway, Easton Academy” written in flowing script across the front, along with a note from Upton. The whole package smelled of lavender. It wafted up from the envelope, filling my senses and enveloping me like a hug. Somehow it made me feel calm, and a smile lit my face as I unfolded Upton’s note.
Mission accomplished, beautiful. I do so love a visit with Lenora. She’s an incredible woman. I told her she’d like you and she said she hopes to meet you one day. I think you two have a lot in common. Hope you win the scavenger hunt.
Love,