Page 9 of Romantic

“I think I saw them. Should I get them?” I can’t see much of this stranger in the half-light, but his voice is kind and reassuring.

“No, I can make it.” I really just want to go home. Again, I try to stand up. This time the stranger helps me.

“Here, put your arms around my neck.” He lifts me up in his arms and, though a bit wobbly, carries me. The whole situation strikes me as absurd. I let out a hysterical sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry.

“Are you in pain?” he asks, panting a little. I’m certain it’s not easy carrying me on the rocky trail.

“Yes, sorry—it struck me as funny that you’re carrying me like a groom carries a bride, and I don’t even know your name.”

“Right, I’m Jack. Jack Willoughby.” Even in the half-light I can see that he has a devastating smile.

“I’m Marianne Greenwood. But everyone calls me Annie.”

He stops walking and sets me down. I can tell he’s trying to be gentle, but I slip and land on my bad ankle.

“Aww!” I gasp in pain.

“Sorry, I need to catch my breath.”

“I’m impressed you carried me this far.”

“You’re not heavy, I’m just a wimp. How’s the ankle?”

“Bad. But no worse than my pride. Is there any chance you didn’t hear my singing?”

“Oh! I heard you.” There’s a little mischief in his voice. “And it was . . . well . . . I don’t think it would be exaggerating to say it may have changed the course of my whole life.” This comment sends a shiver down my spine. My dad said nearly the same thing when he met my mom. She offered to read his palm at a Halloween Party, and he told her not to bother because he could see his future in her eyes.

I grew up hearing the story of their first meeting over and over. My dad would claim it was love at first sight, and my mom would laugh and smile at him with such genuine affection. From a very young age, I knew that when I fell in love it would be exactly the same. I have been waiting my whole life to experience my own lightning bolt moment. Lately, though, I’ve been entertaining the possibility that love could sneak up on me. That maybe someone who might not be exactly my type—someone like, say, Brandon, who is a little too old and a little too stuffy—could turn out to be right for me.

But maybe I was talking myself into abandoning my romantic ideals. Walking in the moonlight with Jack Willoughby is exactly the romance I always dreamed of.

“Annie!” My friends rush over, and I explain what happened. They insist on taking me home. Before we part ways, Jack asks for my number (just to make sure that my ankle is okay). I type it in his phone and thank him again.

He texts me before I even make it to the car.

Jack

I ne’er saw true beauty till this night

Annie

Ah a Shakespeare fan?

My dad loved Shakespeare. He used to read the plays aloud to us.

Jack

I played Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet

Annie

I was Juliet

Jack

You couldn’t be anyone else

Annie