Page 35 of All Along The Watchtower

I almost stopped walking. Here it was—the real reason she’d invited me to lunch. Information mining.

“It’s fine,” I said, even though it wasn’t. “And yeah, it’s weird.”

Madison nodded earnestly. “I bet. My parents are divorced, and when my dad got remarried, I suddenly had this stepmom I had to deal with. Not the same thing at all, but still weird.”

Something about her straightforward admission made me relax a little. “Does your stepmom suck?”

“Nah, she’s actually pretty cool. Makes amazing cookies.” Madison pushed through a set of double doors, and we entered the cafeteria. The noise hit me like a wall—hundreds of voices all talking at once, the clatter of trays, chairs scraping against floors.

I thought of Mimi’s snickerdoodles. “My… grandma makes really good cookies.” That felt so weird to say. I’d never had a grandparent before. Mom’s parents had died in a car crash before I was born. Now I had two grandmas. That was pretty cool. Maybe. Probably.

“Our table’s over there.” Madison pointed to the far corner where three other kids were already sitting. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Madison led me to the table where three kids were already sitting. My stomach clenched with new-kid anxiety. Would they be nice? Would they care that I was Ford Donoghue’s surprise daughter?

“Guys, this is Peyton. She’s new.” Madison slid onto the bench. “Peyton, this is Trevor, Sarah, and Jake.”

Trevor was a lanky boy with sandy hair who barely looked up from his phone. “Hey.”

Sarah waved enthusiastically. She had a pixie cut and bright blue glasses. “Hi! Where’d you move from?”

“Oregon.” I hovered awkwardly, my hand clenching my backpack strap for dear life, until Madison patted the empty space beside her.

Jake, a stocky kid with dark hair, nodded at me. “Cool. That’s like, super far.”

“Yeah.” I sat down, grateful for the spot Madison had saved me. From here, I could see through the windows to the grassy area outside. The view of open space made the crowded cafeteria feel a little less suffocating.

I pulled out my lunch—a brown paper bag that Ford had packed this morning. He’d stood in the kitchen looking completely lost, asking if I preferred turkey or ham. It was weird watching a grown man so completely out of his element.

I unfolded the top of the bag and pulled out my sandwich. That’s when I saw it—a bright yellow Post-it note stuck to the plastic wrap. In messy handwriting: “Have a good day, kid. :)”

A smiley face. He’d actually drawn a smiley face.

I quickly flipped the note over before anyone could see it. What kind of goofy person put notes in a middle schooler’s lunch? My new dad, apparently. I should have been mortified—I was thirteen, not six—but something warm unfurled in my chest instead.

Mom used to leave notes in my lunch too, when I was little. She’d draw little cartoons or write silly jokes. I hadn’t thought about that in ages.

I slipped the note into my pocket while the others weren’t looking. It was totally childish, and I was definitely too old for lunch notes with smiley faces, but... it felt kind of good that he’d thought to do it.

Movement beyond the window caught my attention. I expected to see another student or a teacher walking by. Instead,I sawhim. The guy who’d been on the ferry. The one I’d seen later that night outside of Home Port. He was talking to someone. A woman. I couldn’t see her face, but her body language was rigid, like they were having an argument. They stood in the shadow of one of the high school building across the green space. Mystery dude didn’t seem too happy with how the conversation was going, either.

As I watched, the woman waved a dramatic arm. Telling him to go? Must have been because dude broke away and began walking in the direction of the cafeteria. The sidewalk he followed went right by the window where I was sitting. As he passed, he glanced inside. Our eyes met, and again, I felt that shiver ofook. Then hewinkedat me.

I jerked back.

Madison leaned toward me, frowning. “Hey, are you okay? Something wrong?”

I blinked, pulling my attention back to the lunch table. “No, I’m fine.”

“You look like you saw a ghost.” She followed my gaze toward the window. “What were you looking at?”

“Do you know that guy?” I pointed, but when I looked back, the sidewalk was empty. The man had vanished like he’d never been there at all.

Madison squinted through the glass. “What guy?”

“Never mind.” I took a bite of my sandwich to avoid saying anything else. My appetite had disappeared, but I needed something to do with my mouth besides talk.

What was I going to say, anyway? That some random creepy dude I’d spotted on the ferry had just winked at me through the window? That would sound completely paranoid. Or worse, like I was making stuff up for attention. The last thing I needed was for people to think I was some weirdo who invented stories about strange men to seem interesting. If I started talking aboutmysterious men following me around, I’d cement my reputation as the school freak before my second day was even over.

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