Page 10 of Star-Crossed
And even though Cy knew it was impossible, part of him still yearned for what he’d been denied all those years ago.
Her forgiveness.
His one attempt at apologizing had ended just like their dry-humping had. With him frustrated and her pissed.
He’d ventured to the band hall during his lunch period to seek her out. She’d initially played along with his request to talk to her, but every time he opened his mouth to explain, the bassoon had blatted out a flatulent note to block his voice.
Cy couldn’t exactly blame her. He’d have hated him too, if he’d been a band geek who learned that the angry jock only made out with her on a dare.
It was what shedidn’tknow about the dare that he’d been so desperate to tell her. A truth that still remained locked behind his lips.
And maybe always would.
“…do you think?”
The onslaught of memory had been so acute, he was almost relieved when Gemma’s voice broke him out of his reverie.
Cy shook his head as if to clear it, turning to Gemma. “I’m sorry?”
A strange smile curled one corner of her lips. “I was asking whether you think we’ll be able to save the tree.”
“Well,” Cy began, but stopped when he followed the direction of Guillermo’s heated gaze to see Lyra marching toward them across a lawn, sending orange, gold, and red leaves flying like confetti.
“Hey,” Gemma said, greeting her sister. “Cy was just about to deliver his prognosis.”
“Neat,” Lyra muttered.
Cy took a deep a breath, letting the comment roll off his sweat-dampened back. “I think it would be best to relocate the tree.”
Lyra gaped. “The whole tree?”
“The whole tree,” he said.
Lyra craned to look up at the canopy of the ash, her eyes moving back down the thick trunk before finding Cy’s again. “Is that even possible?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t.” Cy knelt to examine the base of the tree, running his hands over the gnarled bark. “This tree has been here a long time. It’s got strong, healthy roots, so it should handle the move well as long as it’s handled carefully.”
“What all is that going to involve?” Lyra asked, arms folded across her chest.
Cy provided the briefest of summaries. Marking out the roots, preserving the root ball, the general contractor that would need to be involved where the roots impacted the house’s foundations, the replanting process, etc.
Through it all, Lyra watched with a dubious expression, her lips pressed in a thin line.
“And how long do you expect all of this to take?” she asked.
“My best guess?” Cy glanced down at the iPad displaying the model of the tree’s intricate root system. “Two weeks.”
Lyra’s eyes widened in shock as color stained her cheeks. “Two weeks?”
Cy stood, brushing the dirt from his palms as he stepped closer to her. “It is a big job,” he said gently. “We’ll need a general contractor to evaluate the foundation before we can move any of the roots that might potentially destabilize it. Then city permits for replacing the affected plumbing lines, since they run out to the main supply via Water Street. Not to mention permits from the historical society, since this building is on the register.”
Lyra seemed to deflate a little, her shoulders slumping as she gazed up at the towering branches. “Well, I’ll need to talk to Elizabeth about this. As she’s the building’s owner, I won’t be able to agree to anything without—”
Gemma cleared her throat.
“What?” Lyra asked, eyes narrowed.
Twisting her fingers in the hem of her sweater, Gemma kept her gaze fixed on the tree’s trunk. “So, Elizabeth pretty much said that if any complications with the building should arise in her absence, whoever is primarily responsible for running Star-Crossed has her full permission to act as proxy, because they’ll be the most energetically aligned with space’s material destiny.”
