Undercurrent by Tricia Rayburn

and—
    “If you wanted to join me for coffee and dessert… I’d like that.”
    “Sure, Dad,” I managed without turning around. “I’ll be right back.”
    I closed the door behind me and headed for the kitchen, which was now empty. I put the dirty cup in the dishwasher and filled two clean cups with coffee and cream. I cut a huge piece of brownie, wrapped it in a paper towel, and grabbed two forks from the utensil drawer.
    And then I took the coffee and dessert and went upstairs, where Paige was waiting for me.

CHAPTER 6
    I WOKE UP the next morning with a headache. I took three aspirin, drank a gallon of water, and soaked in the tub for an hour. Nothing helped. The pain continued into the weekend, when Paige and I returned to Bates, and I guessed it was caused by stress—related to Dad, school, and lying to Simon. Unfortunately, the physical relief I’d surely feel after coming clean during this visit was a small consolation.
    “So tell me more about this famous party,” Paige said. She and Riley stayed a few feet in front of Simon and me as we walked across campus. “Will there be games?”
    “And prizes,” Riley said. “And some of Androscoggin County’s finest livestock.”
    I looked at Simon. “As in cows?”
    “Technically, it’s a harvest festival,” he explained. “Bates has one every year.”
    Up ahead, Riley said something that made Paige laugh. She rocked to the right, bumping his shoulder with hers.
    “He doesn’t know about last summer?” I asked, lowering my voice.
    Simon shook his head. “He saw some of the news coverage on TV—along with the rest of the country—but he has no idea she was involved. He thinks she’s your great summer buddy who moved to Boston to be there for you.”
    “Good. If she wants him to know anything else, she’ll tell him when she’s ready.”
    He lifted our clasped hands and pressed his lips to the top of mine. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
    I hesitated, then kissed his cheek. “Me, too.”
    It was a warm fall day, and the campus was filled with people studying, sunning, and heading to and from the festival. As we walked, I listened to their conversations and laughter, thinking they all sounded so happy, so normal. I tried to imagine doing the same things on a college campus this time next year… but couldn’t.
    “So what do we think?” Riley asked when we caught up with him and Paige at the festival entrance. “Scarecrow contest then tractor race? Tractor race then scarecrow contest? Or should we just skip ahead to the caramel apples and pumpkin-flavored beer?”
    “I could go for a hayride,” I said, spotting a long, horse-drawn wagon on the far side of the field. “If that’s okay with everyone else.”
    It was. We took our time getting there, stopping along the way to cast our votes for the best pumpkin carving, watch a cider-making demonstration, and sample different varieties of locally made maple syrup. After we finally joined the end of the long hayride line, it took another thirty minutes to reach the front; by the time it was our turn, the wagon was packed and the next one wasn’t due back for several more minutes.
    “We can totally fit,” Riley said, surveying the narrow gaps between riders. “We’ll just double up.”
    “You don’t mind sitting on my lap?” Paige joked.
    “In the interest of time and entertainment, no. I’d make that extreme sacrifice.”
    Paige laughed. Simon looked at me.
    “Let’s do it,” I said.
    We climbed a short ladder and over the slatted back of the wagon. Riley followed Paige as she navigated through legs, feet, and bales of hay, and, true to his word, sat on her knees when she found a small seat near the driver and horses. Simon squeezed in the back left corner of the wagon, then pulled me gently into his lap.
    “I think I like the Bates Harvest Festival,” I said as he put his arms around me.
    Roughly thirty people were crammed into the small space—many of whom, judging by