Under the Same Stars by Libba Bray(71)

“Come on,” Werner said, kicking off his shoes. “The last one in buys the beer!”

The boys raced to the water’s edge and pushed the three rowboats out into the lake, where they wasted no time in blading its calm into a frothy agitation.

“Did you see that?” Klara said to the other girls with a toss of her hair. “He looked right at me.”

“Do you know Leon’s friend from before?” Sophie asked Hanna later.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It was the way he was looking at you.”

“Maybe I remind him of someone.”

Sophie didn’t think so but if Hanna didn’t want to talk about it, they wouldn’t. Since she’d returned from Poland, she’d been less forthcoming with Sophie. Not quite secretive, but as if she were weighing every thought carefully before expressing it. Nothing like the old Hanna, who would blurt out whatever she felt and damn the consequences. Sophie was growing tired of this. She wanted the real Hanna back. She wanted to know what was happening with Leon, what was happening in the part that Hanna was hiding from her. Sophie bumped Hanna’s shoulder with her own, a bit playful, a bit not. “Oskar will be jealous. He tells everyone he’s going to marry you someday,” she goaded.

Hanna snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

“You shouldn’t toy with him, Hanna. If you don’t want him, let him go find some other girl. He may be a pest but it’s not decent. And if you’re courting Leon, you should say so, too.”

Sophie told herself she was simply being honest, like Hanna always had been. But deep down, she knew that this was not about Oskar or Leon at all. It was about feeling that Hanna was toying with her affections. Hanna was treating Sophie like any other fool in town instead of the one who knew and loved her best.

On Thursday, Sophie asked Hanna if she wanted to go to the forest but she said she was busy. She asked again on Friday, but the answer was still the same. Sophie tried not to take it personally but found it impossible. Her mind raced to fill the emptiness with the worst possible thoughts: Hanna had a fatal disease and, like some heroine in a Victorian novel, she wanted to spare her dearest friend the terrible news until one day, with a final bloody cough onto a white handkerchief, she’d succumb in Sophie’s arms. I never wanted you to know, my darling…, she’d rasp out on her last breath while Sophie howled at the injustice. Tragically romantic. Romantically tragic. The other possibility, that Hanna had grown tired of Sophie, also skulked the halls of Sophie’s mind. But that idea was too painful for her to entertain for long.

It was on a Wednesday afternoon, just after school, that Sophie bicycled to the forest where she had always done her best thinking. It was an inhospitable day, overcast, muggy, occasionally spitting out an irritating rain. In the fields a quarter mile out of town, soldiers trained while junior officers barked orders. Herr Jaeger watched coolly from the sidelines, hands clasped behind his back in a way so familiar now that Sophie thought she might be startled to see them in any other position. She pedaled faster, eager to be away from the sharp percussion of gunfire, the oily stink of smoke. But once in the comforting embrace of the forest, she felt at home again. The smell of earth calmed her. She climbed the ladder and read through the letters left inside until she came to one marked To Sophie Muller. Eagerly, she opened it, her heart beating faster. Inside was a blank sheet of paper and, tucked into the fold, a perfectly preserved daisy. It had to be from Nobody. Who else knew her favorite flower?

Sophie was startled by the crack of a branch. All of Fr?ulein Volker’s warnings about not venturing into the forest alone came back to her: You could be violated by enemy spies! Quickly, she darted behind the tree. She was relieved but also surprised to see Hanna.

“I thought you didn’t come here anymore,” Sophie said, stepping out from her hiding place.

“I thought I’d see if you were here.” Hanna kept glancing furtively into the woods as if expecting someone.

Sophie had had enough. “I’m not Oskar, Hanna. I won’t follow you around like a puppy. I’ve changed quite a lot since you left, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I noticed.”

She didn’t say it rudely, more like a fact. Sophie’s anger, which had felt righteous a moment ago, began to ebb, no matter how hard she tried to pull it back to her. In its wake was a plaintive hurt. “If you don’t want to be my friend any longer, just say so.”

“Oh, Sophie. Sophie, darling. That isn’t true. I promise.”

“Then tell me. Please.”

“I wanted to tell you. So many times. But I was afraid.”

Now Sophie was worried. What if all of her imagined stories about Hanna being mortally ill had come true?

Hanna crossed the distance between them. “Sophie, do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“How much do you love me?”

“More than anything. I swear on the Norn. On the seidr branch. On the oak itself.”

“And can I trust you?” Hanna pressed her fingers to Sophie’s lips. “No. Don’t answer. I can’t bear to know.”

“You can trussth me,” Sophie said against the weight of Hanna’s fingers.

Hanna stroked the side of Sophie’s face. “If I can’t trust you, then I don’t want to live in this world.”