Undeniable

It’s big, with a white, stone exterior that gleams in the late afternoon sun. The numerous windows reflect the sky, and the columns, arches, and carvings look like something out of the drawings of the palaces in my old fairy tale storybooks. At the end of the drive, there is a fountain, with a sculpture of a girl pouring water out of a jar. I stare, unable to comprehend that people actually live in a house that’s so incredible. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

I tear my eyes away from the house and turn to my mom, who is smiling at me. “It’s marvelous!” I exclaim, still awestruck.

“It’s almost a hundred years old.” My dad chips in, laughing at my rapt expression. “Kinda like your old man.”

I laugh and climb out of the car, rolling my eyes as my dad rushes around to get the door for my mom. He used to get mine too, calling us his ‘ladies’ as he made a big show of opening car doors gallantly, but as I got older, I started scooting out of the car before he got to my side.

They hold hands as they walk towards the front door, prompting another eye roll from me before I busy myself with looking around the manicured lawns, trees, and gardens, and trying to determine where the property ends.

We only wait a few seconds at the door before it opens. I look inside, prepared to see a butler, or something else, which, like the house, does not ordinarily exist in my world, but what I see is a boy, a boy who is so stunning, he takes my breath away.

He’s tall, with dark hair, parted and neatly combed. His features are perfect, wide gray eyes fringed with thick black lashes, a slim, straight nose, and sculpted lips like a male model’s. He’s wearing jeans and a gray sweater, with the white collar and cuffs of his shirt showing above the neckline and at the wrists of the sweater. I stare at him, immobilized, the beauty of the house fading to nothing as I lose myself in the sight of him.

“Good evening,” He says politely, in a deep, cultured voice that sounds nothing like the boys I know from school. “I’m Jackson Lockewood, and you must be Mrs. Wilder, Mr. Wilder,” he turns his mesmerizing eyes to me and smiles, making my blood rush to my head like a geyser, “and Olivia.”

I’m too enthralled to reply. I just keep staring at him. On some level, I know I’m supposed to say something, but he’s hypnotized me with his eyes, suddenly my stomach is full of butterflies, and my face feels unbelievably hot.

Luckily, my mom fills the silence. “She’s Livvie to everyone but her dad,” She warns with a chuckle as my dad shakes Jackson’s hand. He steps back to allow my parents walk inside the house, leaving me to follow them, but I continue to stare at him. I’ve never met anyone so good-looking, and his gracefulness and ease are astonishing, making all the boys I know seem like snot-wiping toddlers.

When I don’t move, he holds out a hand. “Come on Olivia,” he says with a wink, ignoring my mom’s warning about my name, “we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

I put my hand in his, and in that moment I know, even though I’ve never even had a crush before, that what I’m feeling is so much more than the adolescent fixation my friends have all experienced. I know that even though I’ve only just met this boy, that I want nothing more than for him to want to be with me as much as I want to be with him. I know that I would live, breathe and want only him, and even when I have him, all the time in the world would not be enough.

I’m still coming to terms with this realization when a girl bounds into the foyer, interrupting my thoughts. There is a slight resemblance to Jackson, but her eyes are blue, and her hair is the shade of honey. She sees Jackson holding my hand and groans.

“I’ve come to save you from my boring brother.” She says with a laugh, prompting a headshake from the brother in question. "I’m Blythe,” she continues, her earnest blue eyes looking right into mine.

“Livvie,” I tell her, unable to understand how anybody in the world could find Jackson Lockewood boring. Even if he never said a word, I’d be content just to look at him forever.

Blythe smiles and reaches for my hand and I feel a sense of loss as Jackson lets go of my other hand.

“It was nice to meet you Olivia,” He says with a small smile as Blythe pulls me into wide-open doorway of the living room, a bigger, more beautiful kind of living room than any I’ve ever seen. Inside, my dad is introducing my mom to a woman about my mom’s age, who looks like an older version of Blythe, with light blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and a welcoming smile.

“I hear you’re quite the photographer,” She tells me when we’re introduced. Her voice is clear and soft, and there’s just something about it that draws you in and makes you feel like there’s no one else she’d rather be talking to, "Halcyon hasn’t been photographed in a while,” She says with a smile. “Maybe you’ll do us the honor?”

“I would love that!” I gush, even though I know she’s probably teasing, before Blythe pulls me away to sit beside her on a two-seater sofa.

“Aunt Constance says you just moved here, and you don’t know anyone,” She says when we’re seated. “I can’t even imagine that. No matter where I go, I always seem to know hundreds of people.” She looks wistful, as if she’d like to find a place where she doesn’t know anyone.

“It’s not fun.” I tell her, thinking of all the kids I’ve known who didn’t have any friends, and of the friends I left behind when we moved. “I’m sure it’s better to have many friends.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs, and then beams at me. “I have a feeling we’re going to be friends,” she says, “All the other girls are crazy about Jackson, and it gets boring. Please tell me you won’t fall for him."

Fortunately, she doesn’t wait for a reply before she continues talking. I wouldn’t have been able to lie, especially not when I’d already fallen for him. Blythe is a talker, barely pausing for breath before she launches from one story about her school, a private boarding school upstate, to the next. She even manages to get me talking, extracting some stories from me too. She seems sad when I tell her about missing my friends, but hopeful that I’ll make new ones. I’m surprised to find myself not even missing my book, and really enjoying her company.

Every now and then, throughout the evening, my eyes would go to Jackson, on the other side of the room with my parents and his aunt, or opposite me on the formal dining table, and each time I look at him, it feels exactly like it did the first time I set my eyes on him. I feel a little lost and unlike myself, as if I’m falling down a deep well with no way to stop myself, and the only thing waiting to catch me at the bottom is him. It’s a strange feeling, but I wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world.

After that day, I stop missing my old life. With Blythe Lockewood as a friend, there’s almost no space for melancholy or nostalgia. She’s one of those girls for whom everything is effortless. She’s effortlessly beautiful, effortlessly fashionable, effortlessly skilled in sports, whether on the lawn tennis court at Halcyon, or the Olympic size swimming pool. She’s also incredibly sweet and sincerely friendly.

Constance Milner, or Aunt Constance as Jackson and Blythe call her, is also wonderful. She invites me to come back to Halcyon as often as I need, to take as many pictures of the house or gardens as I want, or to borrow whatever books I want from th

e incredible library, as long as I promise to return them. She’s the kind of graceful woman I’ve never met before in real life, always serene and incredibly put together, putting everyone in a room at ease just by being in it.

However, it’s Jackson who steals every part of my being. When I start to spend more and more time with Blythe at Halcyon during their school holidays, attending her parties, meeting her friends, and sometimes just hanging out, I really enjoy her company, but it’s always Jackson I go there hoping to see.

Chapter Three