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Country clubs and garden parties. The last thing Cassandra wants is to spend the summer before her senior year marooned in a snooty Massachusetts shore town. Cass craves drama and adventure, which is hard when she just feels stuck.
But when a dreamy stranger shows up on her family's private beach, claiming that it is his property—and that the year is 1925—Cass is swept into a mystery a hundred years in the making. As she searches for answers in the present, Cass discovers a truth that thrusts Lawrence's life into jeopardy. It won't matter which century he is from if he won't live to see tomorrow.
Desperate to save the boy who's come to mean everything to her, Cassandra must find a way to change history…or risk losing Lawrence forever.
"Until We Meet Again is tragically beautiful with twists you won't see coming."—Martina Boone, author of Compulsion and the Heirs of Watson Island trilogy
"A beach house, a mystery, and time-travel love make Until We Meet Again a romantic, engaging read."—Deb Caletti, National Book Award Finalist for Honey, Baby, Sweetheart
| ISBN-13: | 9781492621171 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Sourcebooks |
| Publication date: | 11/03/2015 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 336 |
| Sales rank: | 755,991 |
| Lexile: | HL530L (what's this?) |
| File size: | 1 MB |
| Age Range: | 14 - 17 Years |
Renee Collins grew up in Hawaii, where she played Lady Capulet in her high school production of Romeo and Juliet. In college, she decided to abandon her dreams of being a famous actress to study history and become a writer, but she’ll always have a soft spot in her heart for drama kids. Renee currently lives in Colorado with her family. Visit her at reneecollins.com.
Cassandra
Date: July 8.
Days at my mom and stepdad's new summer home: 22
Hours spent at the froufrou country club: 0
Hours spent on the fancy private beach: 0
Hours spent lying on the couch bemoaning my lack of a life: somewhere in the 100s.
Number of times Mom has told me to make some new friends and stop moping around: also somewhere in the 100s.
To paraphrase Shakespeare: Oh, for a muse of fire to convey how utterly and completely bored I am.
Given the circumstances, it should be clear that I have no choice but to try to sneak into my neighbors' yard and swim in their pool at 2:00 a.m.
My two accomplices are less than ideal. Travis Howard and Brandon Marks are local royalty of this ritzy, historic neighborhood slapped on the coast of Massachusetts's North Shore. Both have the classic all-American look — tall, sparkling blue eyes, and a crop of blond hair that's been gelled to scientific levels of perfection. But given the circumstances, they'll have to do.
Brandon can barely keep pace as we cut along the tailored brush that adorns the Andersons' back fence. Maybe because he's too busy shooting nervous glances behind us.
"We're being followed," he says.
Travis and I exchange a look.
"Chill out, dude," Travis says.
I sigh. "Seriously. I didn't pack my smelling salts, so try not to faint."
Travis holds out his fist for a bump.
Brandon is resolute. "At the very least, we're being watched. You think these people don't have security cameras?"
"No clue," I say brightly.
"Well, that's reassuring."
"I try."
I probably should have come on my own. Trouble is, I need a pair of hands to boost me over the fence. My little brother, Eddie, couldn't do it, since he's three. And for obvious reasons, I couldn't ask Mom or Frank. That left the only other person I know here: Travis.
He and I met at a garden party. How bourgeois is that? I was so bored, I was ready to claw my eyes out. Then I saw this crazy guy doing a chair dance, to the utter shock of the local hens, and I decided he might be okay. Travis is pretty cool. He reminds me a little of my friend Jade back in Ohio — a delightful troublemaker. Having Travis's buddy Brandon tagging along, however, has proved to be an unwelcome change of plans.
It's late, but humidity still hangs in the air. Not as oppressive as during the day, but enough to make the hair against my neck damp. Crickets chirp loudly in the surrounding brush, which makes me uneasy somehow, as if their incessant noise will draw attention to us. As if they're crying, "Look! Look! Look! Look!" to some unseen guard. Brandon's nerves must be contagious.
Luckily, I spy the edge of the fence before I can dwell on my uneasiness for too long.
"We made it," I say.
Gripping the bars, I look for a good spot to grab midway up. Travis helps me with the inspection.
"Right over here," he says, motioning. "The ground's a little higher on the other side, and those bushes will break your fall."
"Nice," I say, impressed. "You have a lot of experience breaking in to private property?"
"Yeah, except we usually go for cash and high-value items. Breaking in to go swimming should be a nice change of pace." I smirk and he gives me a Mr. Teen USA wink.
"All right then," I say. "Hoist me up."
Brandon steps in between us. "Are we seriously doing this? You know, your stepdad's house has a huge private beach. If you want to swim so badly, can't we go there?"
"You're missing the point, Brandon."
"You never explained the point."
"Only a fool asks to understand that which cannot be grasped," I say, pretending to quote some ancient philosopher.
Travis blinks. "Dude. That was deep."
"I know, right?" I turn back to Brandon. "See? He gets it."
"This is really stupid," Brandon says, unamused.
I pull out my phone. "So, I guess you don't want to be in the group shot then?"
Travis comes to my side and puts his arm around me. "Sweet! Selfie time."
I hold out my phone, and he and I make an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up pose.
Brandon folds his arms impatiently across his chest. "Can we get on with this?"
"Well, look who's eager to have some fun," I say, giving him a hearty slap on the back. "About time you came aboard."
Brandon shakes his head and holds out his interlocked hands. Travis stands across from him. Together, they form the perfect ladder. Pushing off of their shoulders, I reach for the top of the fence. One push and my leg tips over the edge.
"Got it!" I shout. Perched on the top of the wall, I survey my target. The pool is lit, even with the Andersons away for the week, and it gleams an appealing turquoise blue in the dark night. If I had time and my stuff, I'd paint the scene. For now, however, an immersive, performance-art type of scenario will have to suffice.
"Let's do this," I say, hopping onto the grass below. I land firmly on my feet and unlatch the side gate.
Brandon remains frozen at the threshold. "Cass ..."
"Let me guess. You don't think this is such a good idea."
Travis laughs. "Seriously, dude, don't be such a pansy."
He starts through the gate when Brandon grabs his arm. "Trav. You know why we can't."
Travis says nothing, but a shadow crosses his expression. I frown.
"What?"
When Travis doesn't reply, Brandon exhales. "We could go to jail."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic — "
"No, seriously. We're both ... kind of on probation."
He officially has my attention. "Explain."
Travis shakes his head. "It's not that big of a deal. Brandon's freaking out."
"Then tell me," I say.
His eyes shift away from mine. "It was me and Brandon and some of the guys from the lacrosse team. One night a few weeks ago, we were a little drunk. It was late. And we sort of ... broke into a liquor store."
Brandon scrambles to explain before I can react. "It wasn't my idea. We never would have done it — it was really stupid, okay? Anyway, we got caught, but Austin's dad pulled some strings and got us off with a warning."
I nod slowly. "I see. So, you got Daddums to skirt the law for you?"
"It's not like that," Travis says, but I can tell he's really embarrassed.
Brandon sighs. "I can't get into trouble. I've got a lacrosse scholarship on the line, and my parents would murder me if I screwed that up. Trav's the same."
I'm not sure which is more irritating, the sham justice system in these ritzy areas or the fact that there's actually a legitimate reason to cut our little excursion short.
I fold my arms. "So after all this, we're leaving?"
"I never said that," Travis says, defensive.
Brandon glares. "Don't be an idiot, Trav. It's not worth it."
I can tell by the look Brandon gives Travis that he actually means I'm not worth it. Irritation flares up in me.
"Well, I haven't come all this way to wuss out now. You boys and your lacrosse scholarships are free to go back home."
"Fine," Brandon says. "I'm out of here."
He storms off without a glance back. Travis lingers, but I can tell he's seen the error of his ways and wants to go as well.
"Go ahead and leave," I say. "I'm over the fence. I don't need you anymore."
Travis sighs. "Brandon's right. We should probably get out of here."
I plant my fists on my waist. "Nope. I'm going to swim."
"Cass."
"Seriously, go. I can take it from here."
"I'm not leaving you alone at two in the morning. It isn't safe."
I laugh. "How very gallant, Travis."
"I'm serious. It isn't safe."
With only a smile, I turn and head for the pool. He calls my name in a sharp whisper, but I ignore him.
Little garden lights illuminate the path and surround the flagstone patio. The pool shimmers. You've got to hand it to the Andersons. They have a nice place here.
I circle the pool thoughtfully, then dip one toe in the water. "Ideal temperature."
No simple entrance into the pool will do. It's got to be diving board or nothing. With determination, I march to the elaborate diving area and grip the ladder.
Travis calls my name again. I glance over my shoulder with a sigh. He's in the shadows by the shrubs.
"You're crazy," he whisper-yells.
"Guilty as charged, Travis, my dear." I blow him a kiss and climb the diving-board ladder. My nerve ends tingle as I approach the long plank. It's a stupid little thing, but I feel more alive now than I have all summer.
"Okay. Here goes nothing. One ... two ..."
The porch lights snap on with the fury of midday sun. It startles me so much that I throw my arms up to block it and almost fall backward into the pool.
"All right, kids," a man's voice booms. "Fun's over."
Who knew an À1/4ber rich, gated community would have twenty-four-hour guards on staff? Oh wait. I knew. I just didn't care.
A big man in a bouncer-type jacket strides in by the side of the deck, right near where I entered. To my left, Travis flattens against the house, trapped. If he runs, the guard will notice for sure.
The beam of a high-powered flashlight blasts in my face.
"Get down from there."
I shoot a look to the gently rippling pool water, then to Travis, then back to the guard. He's clearly not in the mood to screw around.
Something about this situation feels so symbolic of this whole summer. There I was, about to plunge into that film internship in New York. Or go to Paris with Jade. Or maybe the acting camp. I hadn't really decided. Either way, I was ready to start living and get out of Nowhereville, Ohio. And what happens?
Mom and Frank get the crazy idea to rent a beach house in Massachusetts. And because Frank can work remotely with his finance job, they don't rent it for a week like a normal family. They rent it for the entire summer. And of course, they insist on dragging me and Eddie down with them. To sit on my butt all day and to go to garden luncheons.
"Where are the two guys I saw you with?" the guard calls out.
Cameras. Of course there are cameras. The beam of the flashlight cuts from me to scan the yard. Travis's whole body tenses, and guilt washes over me. As much as I initially wrote him off as a rich jock, I actually kind of like the guy. He's been cool and willing to play along with my ridiculous little shenanigans. I can't let him suffer serious, long-lasting consequences.
Meeting Travis's eyes, I mouth the word "go" and then wave to the security guard with both arms. "It's just me, big guy. Me all by my lonesome."
The flashlight snaps up to me. My pulse races. What I'm doing, I'm not exactly sure. But the recklessness feels good.
"I thought I saw someone else," the guard says.
He starts to pull the light away to search the yard. I have to act quickly. Drawing in a breath, I pull my sundress over my head and toss it on the patio. For a single, humiliating moment, the guard's flashlight illuminates my red bra and underwear for all the world to see. Travis better be halfway home by now.
The guard's voice is calm but laden with warning. "Miss ..."
"Last one in the water's a rotten egg!"
Drawing in a breath, I give one good bounce on the diving board, leap into the air, form the perfect swan position, and plunge into the water.
CHAPTER 2Cassandra
Few things can compare to the humiliation of standing on your doorstep at 2:00 a.m., dripping wet, with a security guard holding your arm. As he knocks, I'm suddenly not sure which is worse, facing jail time or Mom's wrath.
In a rare stroke of luck, it's Frank who answers. He's blinking groggily, his hair mussed from sleep.
"Cass?" he says, frowning with confusion. "What is this?"
The guard releases his grip on my arm, presenting me for the slaughter. "Your stepdaughter thought it would be a fun idea to go for a swim in the Andersons' pool tonight."
Frank blinks, still trying to wake up, and stares at his watch. I shift uncomfortably in place.
"It was an accident. I was confused. I was ... sleepwalking."
The guard shoots Frank a grimace, but Frank says nothing. After an excruciating pause, he sets a hand on the security guard's arm.
"Thank you for bringing her back ..." He reads the security guard's name tag. "Jim. I certainly appreciate it. I can take it from here."
The guard grimaces. "I ought to bring her in. We take trespassing very seriously in these parts."
Frank nods. "As you should. And I can assure you, her mother and I will not let this go unpunished."
The guard's frown deepens. "I don't know ..."
Frank smiles warmly. "Tell you what, Jim. You turn her over to us, with the promise that she'll be thoroughly taken to task, and in the morning, I'll talk to Mike Anderson about getting you the weekend off. We can have Braden cover for you."
My throat tightens. This can either go very well or very, very bad.
The guard analyzes Frank, silently weighing the pros and cons of his next move. But then, in seemingly slow motion, he nods and gives me a little push forward.
"If it happens again — if anything like this happens again — she's in for it."
I could explode from sheer relief.
Frank gives the guard's arm a friendly squeeze. "Much appreciated, Jim."
Smiling cheerfully, he escorts me into the house and shuts the door. The smile drops as he turns to me.
"I can explain," I rush to say.
"Tomorrow. You can and will explain everything in the morning. Right now, I suggest you go put on some dry clothes and try to get some sleep."
My face burns with shame at how nice he's being about all this. "Thanks, Frank."
He waves my words away with a half smile and shuffles back toward his room. I make my way to mine with a sinking feeling. Mom's going to kill me when she finds out.
* * *
Phase One of my Punishment Reduction Plan involves Eddie. By the time I wake up, it's past ten, and by now I know Frank has told Mom what went down last night. The relative quiet coming from downstairs is a bad sign. They're talking about me, waiting for me to emerge. I need an adorable little boy to soften the blow.
Creeping on tiptoe, I make my way to the playroom first. Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Not in his room either. That leaves only two other places: either he's with Mom and Frank, or he's watching cartoons in the den. Hoping for the latter, I slip downstairs.
Low but tense voices drift in from the dining room. Still talking about me. Clenching my jaw, I edge my way to the den.
Success.
Eddie is sitting crossed-legged on the couch, watching his favorite cartoon about an orphaned robot alien and his robot puppy. He looks up as I come in. He's unreasonably cute. It's lucky, really. I had the typical preteen issues when Mom got remarried. Don't get me wrong, for everyone's sanity, it was the right thing for my parents to get divorced, but I definitely had my issues when Frank came into the picture. And then Eddie was born, and slowly I began to realize how we'd work as a family. So much so that I can't imagine life if Frank hadn't come along. Eddie is the glue that holds us all together. Smiling, I plop down at his side.
"Hey, buddy. Can I watch your show with you?"
Eddie points to his chest with a chubby toddler finger. "I be the robot. You be the puppy."
"Fair deal." I nestle beside him, and he pets my hair.
"Good puppy."
I make my best dog sound and sniff Eddie's face, which smells distinctly of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
"That tickles!" he says, laughing.
I give his cheek a quick kiss and then lay my head next to his little shoulder. "Puppy is nervous. Puppy thinks Mommy Dog is mad at her."
Eddie pets my head again. "Don't worry, Puppy. Mommy Dog is nice."
Ah, the safe, easy world of a kid. Almost makes me wish I could go back to being three again, when things were so simple.
"You okay in there, buddy?"
Mom's voice makes me sit up, and a moment later, she steps into the doorway. When she sees me, her arms immediately cross over her chest. She's calm but prepared. This isn't going to go well for me.
"So you're up," she says. "Have a good sleep?"
I pull my arm around Eddie. "Yep. Just playing a little robot alien and puppy with my bro."
"Cassandra. Kindly make your way into the dining room. We're going to have a talk."
"Why can't we talk in here?" I know they won't be as hard on me in front of Eddie.
In response, Mom raises a single eyebrow in that "I mean business" way. Sighing, I slide from the couch.
Excerpted from Until We Meet Again by Renee Collins. Copyright © 2015 Renee Collins. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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