If We Leap: A What If Prequel Read online

  If We Leap

  A What If Prequel

  Nina Lane

  © 2018 Nina Lane. All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-0-9995410-3-6

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  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Cover photography: Sara Eirew

  Cover design: Concierge Literary Designs & Photography

  Contents

  Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also By Nina Lane

  IF WE LEAP

  A What If Prequel

  Nina Lane

  I believe in us hard enough to take the chance.

  But will Cole take the leap of faith with me?

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  This novella prequel takes place ten years before IF WE FALL. The reading order of the What If series is:

  * * *

  IF WE LEAP

  IF WE FALL

  IF WE FLY

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  Chapter 1

  Josie

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  The Ferris wheel at the end of the Water’s Edge Pier spun against the night sky, the lights glittering like multicolored stars. The smells of fried dough and cotton candy drifted on the ocean air along with a cacophony of music. Souvenir shops displayed T-shirts, mugs, and lighthouse knick-knacks plastered with the Castille, Maine logo.

  Many students from my former high-school strolled among the sunburned crowd of tourists and locals. Growing up in Castille, we’d all spent a lot of time at the pier, from getting ice cream with our families to hanging out with teenaged friends. Though I’d stayed in Castille after graduation to attend the local Ford’s College, I’d been so busy with classes and work I hadn’t been to the pier at all over the past year.

  I was happy to be back after our freshman year, reunited with old friends who’d gone away to college and indulging in the excited nostalgia of our favorite hangout.

  “You need to get closer.” I plucked a red Lifesaver out of the roll, eyeing my friend Lucy’s position at the balloon-popping game booth. “Lean in.”

  She edged closer to the counter, narrowing her eyes at the fat balloons pinned to the board. She tossed the dart, missing a balloon by an inch. The rest of us—me and our other friends Harper and Emma—groaned in support. I popped the Lifesaver into my mouth and handed the roll to Harper.

  She frowned at the top green candy. “You took the red, didn’t you? How many did you take out to get to it?”

  “Just one.” I pushed the candy against my cheek with my tongue. “Don’t worry, my hands are clean.”

  I held up both hands to show her my paint-streaked fingers. She gave me a good-natured eyeroll and took the green Lifesaver. Lucy flung two more darts at the balloon board, popping one. We clapped and cheered. She chose a pink, sparkly plastic bracelet as her prize and fastened it to her wrist.

  “Let’s try another.” She started toward another game booth, then stopped suddenly. “Hold up. Is that Richard Peterson?”

  She squeezed my arm and gestured to the tall, blond-haired young man sauntering his way along the pier, two equally good-looking friends at his sides. The radiant light of college senior, football player, and big man on campus, surrounded him like an aura.

  “Big deal,” I muttered.

  Lucy squeezed my arm harder. “Oh, come on. An artist like you should be salivating over his beauty. He was the hottest guy in high school.”

  “That didn’t make him nice.” Remembered humiliation stabbed through me. “He and that other guy Peter tried to steal my Halloween candy when I was nine.”

  “Oh my God.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “Hold a grudge much? I gave you a bloody nose when we were seven, and you still became my bestie.”

  “That was an accident. You didn’t know I was behind you when we were climbing the rope ladder.”

  “My point is that you can’t be mad at Richard for something he did ten years ago. They’re coming over here. Quick, do I have anything on my face?”

  “Just beauty,” I assured her.

  “Hey.” The boys stopped, shoulders slouched, acknowledging us all with casual nods.

  “Hey.” Lucy’s smile widened.

  Richard looked at me. “Hey, Josie.”

  I nodded my hey and didn’t smile at all.

  “How’s your sister?” he asked.

  Beside me, Harper tsked. I could almost feel the wind go out of my friends’ sails at the mention of my older sister. Four years older than my own nineteen, Vanessa had been a legend at Castille High, a willowy blond beauty, valedictorian, and track star. Though she’d graduated from college last year, her legendary status lingered.

  “She’s great,” I told Richard. “She’s working for an interior design firm. Her boyfriend is getting his MBA at Harvard.”

  As if you could compete.

  He blinked. “That’s great.”

  Emma, who was chatting up Richard’s friends Peter and Dave, turned to him. “Hey, you guys want to eat with us? We’re heading to McGinty’s, then we thought we’d go on a few rides for old times’ sake.”

  “Yeah, definitely. It’ll be great to catch up.”

  Though I wasn’t thrilled about breaking bread with Richard and his buddies, I’d make an effort to be friendly. We walked to McGinty’s Pub and sat outside at a weathered picnic table near the game booths and arcade.

  A server came out to take our orders of fried clams and onion rings, with beers for the men and sodas for us girls. She came back shortly with the drinks, depositing them on the table with a cheery, “Here you go.”

  “If you want mine, I’ll order another.” Richard nudged his beer toward Lucy, his eyebrows lifted. “No one will know.”

  She shrugged and took a sip. He glanced at me. “Josie?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “So, what’ve you been up to?” he asked. “You’re going to Ford’s, right?”

  “Yes. Majoring in Art.”

  “That’s right.” Peter snapped his fingers, as if he’d just made a discovery. “You were super into drawing and stuff, right? You won all the school art shows.”

  “Her mom teaches art at Ford’s,” Harper explained. “She has great genes.”

  “I noticed.” Richard kept his gaze on me.

  I glanced toward the restaurant. “Oh, look, here comes our food.”

  We turned our attention to the crispy clams and greasy onion rings. The conversation shifted to stories about college and professors, which soon had us all either laughing or commiserating.

  “Isn’t that Cole Danforth?” Emma chewed on an onion ring and nodded to the row of game booths. A tall young man, wearing the blue apron of a carnival game operator, stood behind the counter of the Milk Bottle Toss.

  My pulse jumped, sparking sudden excitement through my veins. I hadn’t seen Cole since last summer. And oh yes, that was definitely him—all six-feet-plus, broad-shouldered, thick-hair-the-color-of-chestnuts, strikingly gorgeous Cole Danforth. A thousand little lights flared inside me, illuminating all the secret wishes in my heart.

  “Hah.” Richard twisted his mouth sardonically and reached for his beer. “Not surprised tha
t douchebag ended up running a game booth.”

  “He’s so weird,” Lucy agreed.

  “He is not.” I was unable to keep the hard note out of my voice.

  Lucy raised her eyebrows. “Do you know him?”

  “Sort of. I mean, not really.” Heat crept up my face. I’d known him for eleven years, but I’d always wanted to know him better. Trying to conceal my blush, I dunked an onion ring into a puddle of ketchup. “We crossed paths a few times when we were kids. He was always nice to me. It’s not cool for you to call him a douche and a weirdo.”

  Back in high school and even earlier, I’d been deeply stung when someone, especially my friends, disparaged Cole Danforth. Three years older than us, he’d been one of the quieter kids, but ever since I first encountered him in the woods when I was eight years old, I’d been fascinated by him. He’d moved to Castille with his parents when he was eleven, and while his father was the prominent owner of a popular brewing company, Cole had had a reputation for being…well, strange.

  “I heard his mom was the weird one.” With her forefinger, Harper made a circular motion beside her head. “Like, crazy weird.”

  “Didn’t she commit suicide?” Dave asked.

  My insides clenched. We’d all heard the horrible rumors, which had only intensified my empathy toward Cole.

  “Yeah, she died when Cole was a senior,” Harper said. “She, like, had some sort of breakdown, and Cole’s dad had to go to court because she refused to accept help. A judge had to force her into an institution over in Fernsdown. It’s kind of sad, actually.”

  Since Harper’s mother worked for the local court, I wasn’t surprised by her insider knowledge. I glanced surreptitiously at Cole again. He was taller and bigger than I remembered, and the sun had baked golden streaks into his overlong dark brown hair. Even from a distance, his thick-lashed blue eyes softened the strong angularity of his features, which always seemed to be set in an expression of guarded impenetrability.

  “Why’s he working at the pier?” Emma asked. “I thought he worked at his father’s brewpub.”

  “Maybe he needs extra cash.” Harper took a sip of her soda. “I remember once in high school he had to work at the pier picking up litter. He’d been caught vandalizing a construction site where his dad was building a new pub and brewery, and the judge made him do community service.”

  “Total douche.” Peter reached over to steal one of Emma’s onion rings.

  “Is he going to college?” Lucy asked.

  “I heard he’s at Ford’s.” Richard downed the last of his beer and signaled for another. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped out and became a full-time carnie, though.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t blow up Castille High.” Peter snorted with suppressed laughter.

  “Stop it.” Anger flooded my chest. “You can’t keep spreading rumors like that. He got a bad enough rap in high school. Leave him alone in college, for God’s sake.”

  “Whoa.” Peter held up his hands. “Didn’t know you have a thing for him, Josie.”

  “I don’t,” I replied crossly, even though my heart constricted. “I just told you—he was always nice to me. You’re just pissed that he ran you and Richard off when you tried to steal my Halloween candy.”

  Both men stared at me blankly for a second before Richard let out a laugh.

  “I totally forgot about that.” He slapped a hand on his forehead, his eyes dancing with amusement. “We were a couple of little dicks, huh? Too cool for trick-or-treating, but we still wanted candy. Man, Josie, I’m so sorry.”

  “Josie can hold a grudge like nobody’s business,” Lucy said. “She’s like an elephant.”

  Richard skimmed his gaze over me. “She doesn’t look anything like an elephant.”

  Lucy kicked me gently under the table—an omigod, girl! kick. I shot her a mild glower.

  “Water under the bridge,” I told Richard dismissively.

  In truth, it wasn’t him or his bullying that had kept that long-ago Halloween night at the forefront of my memory. The incident had both cemented my belief that people had Cole Danforth all wrong and planted the seed of my crush on him. I’d never divulged my crush to anyone, not even my best friends.

  I slid my gaze back to Cole. He was taking a ticket from a customer. His hair flopped over his forehead, and his profile was strong and rigid like the edge of a cliff. He handed three baseballs to the customer and stepped aside.

  Then he glanced in my direction. His gaze collided with mine. A shot of energy arced through the air.

  Butterflies swirled through my belly. I gave him a subtle little wave. He responded with a tilt of his chin before turning his attention back to his work.

  “Cole Danforth is kind of like one of your wounded animals.” Harper nudged me in the side. “Maybe you should rescue him.”

  “He doesn’t need rescuing.” Though my statement was flat, it wasn’t lost on me that I’d first encountered Cole in the woods, which was also where I found most of the animals I rescued.

  “Can we stop wasting our breath on that loser?” Richard finished his beer and plunked the empty mug back on the table. “Let’s go on the rides. Just hold on to me if you get scared, girls.”

  Harper and I rolled our eyes at each other. We collected our things and started toward the rides. As we passed the Milk Bottle Toss, I couldn’t help glancing in Cole’s direction again.

  My pulse sped up. He was watching me, his gaze hooded and his mouth set in a straight line. I wanted to stop and talk to him, at least to say hello, but I didn’t dare give Richard or my friends more ammunition against either me or him.

  Reluctantly, I looked away and followed the group toward the carnival.

  “Maybe we should have saved dinner until after the rides.” Lucy took a few tickets from her purse. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel first so we don’t throw up. We’ll do the faster stuff later.”

  “I’ll wait here.” I stopped outside the railing.

  “Come on, Josie, you still can’t handle the Ferris wheel?” Harper asked.

  That’s a big fat nope.

  “You go on ahead.” I waved them toward the line of people snaking toward the Ferris wheel entrance. “Text me when you’re done.”

  “I’ll stay with Josie.” Richard planted his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to his side. “Make up for being an ass when we were kids.”

  Lucy gave me another sidelong omigod glance. I eased out from under Richard’s heavy arm.

  “You really should go with them,” I said, as our friends headed toward the line.

  “I really would rather stay with you.” He winked at me.

  Suppressing a groan, I told myself there were worse things in the world than spending a half hour or so with Richard Peterson. We wandered around the carnival, pausing to watch a few people play the strength game.

  “Hey, I’ll win you something.” Richard handed a ticket to the operator of the balloon popping booth. “What do you want, Jo?”

  “It’s Josie. Nothing, thanks.”

  “Come on, don’t you think I can do it?” He waggled his eyebrows encouragingly.

  “Okay.” I peered at the array of prizes hanging in the booth. My twelve-year-old brother Teddy still liked water guns, so I pointed to a package of two. “How about the water guns?”

  “Two water guns coming up.” Richard took the three darts. He fired them off without pause, hitting three balloons dead center.

  “We have a winner!” yelled the game operator.

  “Here you go.” Richard presented me with the water guns. “What else shall I win for you? Let’s try another one.”

  His gaze landed on the Milk Bottle Toss booth. He strode toward it.

  I hurried after him. “Er, how about the Fishbowl game?”

  “I’m an awesome pitcher.”

  Cole watched us approach, his features hardening. I wished I could let him know I wasn’t with Richard, but I wasn’t sure Cole would even care.


  “Give me two games.” Richard plunked two tickets on the counter.

  Anxiety clutched my insides. I flashed Cole a weak smile. “Hey.”

  He slanted those thick-lashed, bright blue eyes with little flecks of gold at me. “Hey.”

  God. One word in his deep voice, and my skin prickled with heat. How would I react if he actually said my name?

  “What do you want me to win, Jo?” Richard gestured to the prizes dangling from the booth—stuffed animals, rubber balls, plastic inflatable toys. “Something for you, not your little brother.”

  I pointed to a large, stuffed black bird with comically big eyes. “That one.”

  Cole picked up a pole with a hook at the end and detached the bird from the wall.

  “Really?” Richard shook his head and laughed. “What about a panda or teddy bear? Why do you want a stuffed crow?”

  “It’s a raven.” I indicated the bird’s fuzzy plush beak. “You can tell by the bigger beak and shaggy throat feathers.”

  “Whatever. I’ll win it for you.” Richard extended his hand to Cole, who put three baseballs on the counter.

  “Knock down all three bottles, and you win the raven for the lady.”

  “I know how to play.” Richard took his time warming up and lining up the ball with the milk bottles.

  My body tensed. I wanted to talk to Cole but I didn’t know what to say. He’d always had such an air of tragic mystery, like he’d emerged from some gothic novel. Maybe Harper was right that I was attracted to him because he was wounded, but aside from being incredibly good-looking, he really had always been nice to me.

  For most of my childhood, he’d hovered on the sidelines—along the paths cutting through the woods, in the school corridors, at the harbor, on the pier. Not only had he rescued me from Richard and Peter, more than once he’d brought me something I’d left in the woods—a notebook, my sketch pad, once even Wally, my stuffed rabbit. I’d discovered the lost-and-found items on our front porch the following day and knew they were from Cole. The next time I saw him, he’d always ducked his head and shrugged off my gratitude.