the isolation from society was causing her to feel sad. She once again stared at the picture.
"What happened to you, Evan?" she asked the solemn young officer in the photo.
She kissed it gently before replacing it in the box and put the box in the drawer. The room, which had for so long been a sanctuary, had lately felt more like a jail, and as she stood up, she adjusted her clothing and headed out the door to see what Becky was preparing for supper.
Chapter 3
As they walked home from the beach that afternoon, Johnny kept talking about how wonderful her castle looked, how people on the beach kept stopping to look at it and talking about it. He then casually mentioned that he thought she should ask her mother to buy her some modeling clay so she could keep her creations.
She narrowed her eyes and was about to tell him to mind his own business, but she stopped herself. She really wanted to control her outbursts, and he had no idea why she didn't want to ask for modeling clay.
"Maybe I'll ask her to get me some for my birthday," she said.
"I think that's a fine idea," he said.
She smiled, giving him a warm feeling in his chest. Then he remembered a conversation he'd had with his father the night before.
"Did I tell you my father wants to send me to Rutgers College?" he said.
"Truly?"
"Yes. It's in New Brunswick. It's quite a ways away."
"But you won't have to go until you graduate from high school, will you?"
A touch of anxiety filled her heart. Johnny was her closest friend. He'd always been right next door.
"He's thinking I might benefit from a private school. But I'm trying to change his mind."
"I hope you do," she said.
"Would it matter to you?" he asked.
She stopped walking and turned to him.
"Of course, it would. How can you ask that?"
"Because sometimes you seem mad at me for no reason."
"I said I was sorry, Johnny."
"It's not just today, Hannah."
She began walking again with him beside her.
"My feelings are all jumbled," said Hannah. "I don't mean to..."
"It's all right. I shouldn't have said anything."
"You're my friend. I want you to talk to me."
She stopped again and looked at his face.
"Are you afraid of me?" she asked.
The look on her face was heartbreaking
"No, of course not. I just keep saying things that upset you, so I'm trying to figure out what to say that won't."
"But that sounds like you're afraid to upset me."
"No, I'm not afraid, it's just..."
"Nothing. Never mind. I just don't want to lose your friendship."
He put his hand on her arm.
"That won't happen. Not ever."
She smiled. He had said what she wanted to hear more than anything else. She wished she could hug him, but they were on the street where the neighbors might see them.
"Me, too," she said.
They lived in a neighborhood on Maple Street, where the city planners had created a single road with houses on each side of the road, divided by a quarter acre of land on each side of the house, and generous front and back yards. Hannah's parents had chosen the Queen Anne style home. It had two stories, a large porch, Dutch gables, wooden shingles, and bay windows on the top and bottom floors. Hannah's bedroom was on the corner, and she had a bay window in front and a regular window on the side facing Johnny's house. His window was across the yard from hers, and they would often call to each other until one of their parents came to their room and closed the window.
Johnny's house was a more modest two story Colonial with a porch and little else to distinguish it from the others on the block. His father, a druggist who owned the town's only apothecary, earned a good living, but chose to save his money rather than squander it on a big home. He wanted to send his son to college, and his priority over everything was Johnny's education.
Malcolm Liberty wanted his son to be a doctor, and Johnny was not averse to the idea, but the thought of leaving Hannah before it was
"What happened to you, Evan?" she asked the solemn young officer in the photo.
She kissed it gently before replacing it in the box and put the box in the drawer. The room, which had for so long been a sanctuary, had lately felt more like a jail, and as she stood up, she adjusted her clothing and headed out the door to see what Becky was preparing for supper.
Chapter 3
As they walked home from the beach that afternoon, Johnny kept talking about how wonderful her castle looked, how people on the beach kept stopping to look at it and talking about it. He then casually mentioned that he thought she should ask her mother to buy her some modeling clay so she could keep her creations.
She narrowed her eyes and was about to tell him to mind his own business, but she stopped herself. She really wanted to control her outbursts, and he had no idea why she didn't want to ask for modeling clay.
"Maybe I'll ask her to get me some for my birthday," she said.
"I think that's a fine idea," he said.
She smiled, giving him a warm feeling in his chest. Then he remembered a conversation he'd had with his father the night before.
"Did I tell you my father wants to send me to Rutgers College?" he said.
"Truly?"
"Yes. It's in New Brunswick. It's quite a ways away."
"But you won't have to go until you graduate from high school, will you?"
A touch of anxiety filled her heart. Johnny was her closest friend. He'd always been right next door.
"He's thinking I might benefit from a private school. But I'm trying to change his mind."
"I hope you do," she said.
"Would it matter to you?" he asked.
She stopped walking and turned to him.
"Of course, it would. How can you ask that?"
"Because sometimes you seem mad at me for no reason."
"I said I was sorry, Johnny."
"It's not just today, Hannah."
She began walking again with him beside her.
"My feelings are all jumbled," said Hannah. "I don't mean to..."
"It's all right. I shouldn't have said anything."
"You're my friend. I want you to talk to me."
She stopped again and looked at his face.
"Are you afraid of me?" she asked.
The look on her face was heartbreaking
"No, of course not. I just keep saying things that upset you, so I'm trying to figure out what to say that won't."
"But that sounds like you're afraid to upset me."
"No, I'm not afraid, it's just..."
"Nothing. Never mind. I just don't want to lose your friendship."
He put his hand on her arm.
"That won't happen. Not ever."
She smiled. He had said what she wanted to hear more than anything else. She wished she could hug him, but they were on the street where the neighbors might see them.
"Me, too," she said.
They lived in a neighborhood on Maple Street, where the city planners had created a single road with houses on each side of the road, divided by a quarter acre of land on each side of the house, and generous front and back yards. Hannah's parents had chosen the Queen Anne style home. It had two stories, a large porch, Dutch gables, wooden shingles, and bay windows on the top and bottom floors. Hannah's bedroom was on the corner, and she had a bay window in front and a regular window on the side facing Johnny's house. His window was across the yard from hers, and they would often call to each other until one of their parents came to their room and closed the window.
Johnny's house was a more modest two story Colonial with a porch and little else to distinguish it from the others on the block. His father, a druggist who owned the town's only apothecary, earned a good living, but chose to save his money rather than squander it on a big home. He wanted to send his son to college, and his priority over everything was Johnny's education.
Malcolm Liberty wanted his son to be a doctor, and Johnny was not averse to the idea, but the thought of leaving Hannah before it was
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