downtown — it was easier
than trying to explain to her parents who she was meeting. She
didn’t want to tell a complete lie, so she told her mother that she
was meeting Michaela at Al’s Café. It was the right place, just not
the right person. Besides, she didn’t mind walking when it was so
nice out. She felt a bit cagey and figured some fresh air would do
the trick.
As she walked through the neighborhood, she looked
at the houses as she passed. Every house looked slightly different,
one story, two stories, red, brown. Most were neat and tidy. Some
were a bit run down and looked out of place.
As she turned on to Grove Street she stopped in
front of a large Victorian house. It was known as the Butterman
Mansion and it was by far Paivi’s favorite house in all of St.
Andrew. The imposing three-story mansion sat in a large garden
surrounded by an ornate wrought iron fence. The house had been
expertly painted in shades of purple and blue, accenting the
delicate woodwork that made it resemble a gingerbread house. With a
sigh, she crossed over a busy street into St. Andrew’s
downtown.
Al’s Café was located in an old two-story brick
building that dated from 1871. It was located in St. Andrew’s
historic downtown and overlooked the Fox River. Paivi opened the
heavy wooden door and heard a jingle. The girl standing behind the
register looked up from a magazine she was reading.
“Hi! Welcome to Al’s. How many?” she asked with a
smile.
“Hi, I’m meeting a friend.” Paivi paused as she
scanned the downstairs dining room. There were a few couples
sitting at the tables, but no Christian.
“Blond guy?” asked the girl.
Paivi nodded.
“He’s upstairs.” She pointed to a staircase to the
left.
“Thanks!” Paivi went around a corner and headed up a
wide wooden staircase. As she entered the room, she could see
Christian sitting at a table next to the fireplace and in front of
one of the large windows. The room was large and airy with high
ceilings framed by elaborate wood trim. A fire crackled in the
stone fireplace, throwing shadows along the walls.
Aside from Christian, the room was nearly empty
except for a table of three very loud middle-aged ladies sitting at
the far end of the room and one very bored looking waitress.
Christian glanced up from the menu he was looking
at, his face brightening.
“Hi!” he said. “Did someone mug you on the way over?
Those are some nice black eyes.”
“Funny.” She took off her coat, hanging it on the
back of the chair. “It’s from practice. Apparently my teammates
don’t like me very much. Well, one, anyways.”
Paivi had been too embarrassed to tell her parents
about the incident with Leyla. She figured getting her parents
involved wouldn’t make the girls on the team like her any
better.
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Which teammate in
particular?”
“Right, like you’re really interested. What are you
going to do, leave her a nasty message in her green beans?” she
snapped.
“Look, I know we’ve started off on the wrong foot,”
he began.
“You think?” She leaned back, folding her arms
across her chest and narrowing her black eyes.
“I want to make it up to you. If you tell me her
name, I’ll make sure that after Monday, she won’t bother you again
and everyone on the team will be nice.”
“I want to know what you’re going to do, first. I
don’t want this getting any worse.” She touched her nose gingerly.
“I don’t need any more black eyes.”
“Can you just trust me?”
“Um, so far, no,” Paivi replied.
“If I can do this though, then maybe you can trust
me?” He played with his silverware.
“Maybe. A little. But why won’t you tell me
anything?” She sat back, folding her arms over her chest.
“Let’s just say, I have ways of taking care of it,
and no one will know but me and this other person. In order to do
that, however, I would need a name.”
The waitress approached the table, pen and pad
than trying to explain to her parents who she was meeting. She
didn’t want to tell a complete lie, so she told her mother that she
was meeting Michaela at Al’s Café. It was the right place, just not
the right person. Besides, she didn’t mind walking when it was so
nice out. She felt a bit cagey and figured some fresh air would do
the trick.
As she walked through the neighborhood, she looked
at the houses as she passed. Every house looked slightly different,
one story, two stories, red, brown. Most were neat and tidy. Some
were a bit run down and looked out of place.
As she turned on to Grove Street she stopped in
front of a large Victorian house. It was known as the Butterman
Mansion and it was by far Paivi’s favorite house in all of St.
Andrew. The imposing three-story mansion sat in a large garden
surrounded by an ornate wrought iron fence. The house had been
expertly painted in shades of purple and blue, accenting the
delicate woodwork that made it resemble a gingerbread house. With a
sigh, she crossed over a busy street into St. Andrew’s
downtown.
Al’s Café was located in an old two-story brick
building that dated from 1871. It was located in St. Andrew’s
historic downtown and overlooked the Fox River. Paivi opened the
heavy wooden door and heard a jingle. The girl standing behind the
register looked up from a magazine she was reading.
“Hi! Welcome to Al’s. How many?” she asked with a
smile.
“Hi, I’m meeting a friend.” Paivi paused as she
scanned the downstairs dining room. There were a few couples
sitting at the tables, but no Christian.
“Blond guy?” asked the girl.
Paivi nodded.
“He’s upstairs.” She pointed to a staircase to the
left.
“Thanks!” Paivi went around a corner and headed up a
wide wooden staircase. As she entered the room, she could see
Christian sitting at a table next to the fireplace and in front of
one of the large windows. The room was large and airy with high
ceilings framed by elaborate wood trim. A fire crackled in the
stone fireplace, throwing shadows along the walls.
Aside from Christian, the room was nearly empty
except for a table of three very loud middle-aged ladies sitting at
the far end of the room and one very bored looking waitress.
Christian glanced up from the menu he was looking
at, his face brightening.
“Hi!” he said. “Did someone mug you on the way over?
Those are some nice black eyes.”
“Funny.” She took off her coat, hanging it on the
back of the chair. “It’s from practice. Apparently my teammates
don’t like me very much. Well, one, anyways.”
Paivi had been too embarrassed to tell her parents
about the incident with Leyla. She figured getting her parents
involved wouldn’t make the girls on the team like her any
better.
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Which teammate in
particular?”
“Right, like you’re really interested. What are you
going to do, leave her a nasty message in her green beans?” she
snapped.
“Look, I know we’ve started off on the wrong foot,”
he began.
“You think?” She leaned back, folding her arms
across her chest and narrowing her black eyes.
“I want to make it up to you. If you tell me her
name, I’ll make sure that after Monday, she won’t bother you again
and everyone on the team will be nice.”
“I want to know what you’re going to do, first. I
don’t want this getting any worse.” She touched her nose gingerly.
“I don’t need any more black eyes.”
“Can you just trust me?”
“Um, so far, no,” Paivi replied.
“If I can do this though, then maybe you can trust
me?” He played with his silverware.
“Maybe. A little. But why won’t you tell me
anything?” She sat back, folding her arms over her chest.
“Let’s just say, I have ways of taking care of it,
and no one will know but me and this other person. In order to do
that, however, I would need a name.”
The waitress approached the table, pen and pad
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