Page 39

Esther

Esther looked at her phone again. Twelve hours since Ashley’s drunken proposal and she still hadn’t texted to confirm she remembered their exchange.

She rolled down the car window and watched the ever-approaching shoreline of Grand Isle, Vermont, the large island in the middle of Lake Champlain.

It was chilly that afternoon, and Esther had never taken the ferry before. August got some sort of special discount for being a descendant of a founder—or the guy in the booth recognized him—because he just waved their car on by. The sun glistened off the wakes from the boat, the sound of its engine fought with the churning of the water, and the chatter of other mingling passengers filled the day like white noise.

“Hey, roll that up,” Uther called back to her. “I’m freezing up here.”

Esther rolled her eyes but complied. “Tell me again why a Vermont gardening club is meeting in November.”

“It’s a social club as well as gardening,” snapped August. He was tapping his finger on the steering wheel again.

August hadn’t seemed excited to see her when they arrived, but Uther had called shotgun, and the two of them had carried on a steady stream of playful conversation the entire ride, leaving Esther forgotten in the backseat.

Not a date, my ass. Which left Esther’s mind wandering to things outside this car.

Like how Ashley still hadn’t texted her.

Ashley was a mess yesterday and Esther…well, Esther was kind of into it. Ashley was kicking down a door Esther didn’t know she’d locked. Maybe it was the whole vampire thing. She was into this new dark and edgy side to Ashley. But it was also Ashley being open and funny and brave. And god, she was hot as hell. Even in those ridiculous pajamas that were way too short for her and her makeup all a mess like she’d been tossed in the lake.

Over a month had passed since Ashley had kissed her by this very lake, and it was still all Esther could think about. Not even the coming out as a vampire part distracted her—which, to be fair, was an important part. Ashley had kissed her and Esther had liked it, and maybe Esther wanted to do it again.

And what did that mean? She’d dated men in the past. Did her sheltered upbringing imprint such a strong heteronormative view into her psyche, she hadn’t even conceived of the idea that two women could be interested in each other without falling into the narrow view she was familiar with that, if you weren’t straight, you were a lesbian? Or it was a phase, something you were trying. Or it was just performative for the male gaze.

That was a lot to take in. Esther hadn’t lied that night. Until that moment, she really had thought she was straight. But now a million memories ran through her mind, making her question this claim. The time in middle school when she told a group ofgirls she found it easier to tell if a girl was attractive than a guy and was met with silence instead of agreement. That time in high school when a boyfriend requested she not date a girl after him because his last girlfriend had come out as a lesbian and he was worried about getting a reputation. And her problematic thought, that she needed to date an in-between guy quickly in case a cute girl asked her out.

Still straight though.

She was like one of those women in fairy tales that was asleep their whole life, then one kiss and bam! They’re checking their phone every minute in the hopes that that cute girl would just freaking text her back already.

Seriously, if fake dating meant she could kiss Ashley again, she would say yes in a heartbeat. It had taken everything in her not to agree right there on the spot. But she knew Ashley was wasted, and she couldn’t take advantage of her like that. If Ashley wanted to date her—even if it was pretend—she needed to ask her sober. Esther looked at her phone for the hundredth time since waking up that morning to a screen with no new notifications.

“She’s probably still sleeping.” Uther gave her a knowing look.

“Who?” Esther shoved her phone back in her pocket before meeting his gaze.

“She had a lot to drink at that party. I think she cleaned out a whole bottle of vodka by herself. I wouldn’t be up for a few hours still if I’d kept up with her.”

Esther looked out the window again. She didn’t need Uther digging into her romantic life while in the middle of flirting his way into one of his own. She still wasn’t sure why she was the third wheel to this supposed not-date. Uther had insisted he needed her, but she was sure he would have been fine. August even laughed at Uther’s last Star Wars joke.

The ferry docked, and they waited their turn as the line of cars started their engines and crawled one by one to solid ground. They followed the two-lane highway past pale yellow bungalows and red brick farmhouses broken up with cow pastures, empty cornfields, and small towns with their two-pump gas stations and white-steepled churches. After ten minutes of driving, August turned off onto a small gravel road. At the end sat a white, two-story house facing the bay, mainland Vermont providing a shoreline of scattered stick-looking trees just beyond the water.

“Why’s the window slanted like that?” Esther pointed up at the house where an addition sported a window set on a diagonal like someone had taken an old farm window and fit it as best they could into the new crevice the addition made to the front of the house.

August crouched over the steering wheel to see where she pointed. “Oh that’s… It’s nothing. They put in an addition, and that’s just how they fit the window. It happens all over the place around here. It’s a quirky Vermont thing.”

“We call them witch windows,” Uther added, clearly proud to be the resident Vermonter for this conversation.

“Right.” August’s knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Listen, this trip isn’t exactly going how I’d planned. If you want to go back…”

Esther flicked Uther’s ear and he scowled back at her.Not a date, my ass.

The front door to the house opened, and a brown blur whizzed for the car. Barking followed, and Uther locked the doors as a dog assaulted his window.

“Greg.” A woman with a severe braid and a large Carhartt jacket stepped out on the porch. “Come.”

The dog whizzed back to her side and stood, a single paw raised and eyes trained on the newcomers.