For Sure & Certain by Anya Monroe Read Free Book Online

Marigold.’”
    She didn’t answer; she sipped her cup of coffee and continued to peer curiously at him over the lip of the mug. She didn’t know why she said those things to him, the part about her trying so hard. It’s not like anyone took her seriously as “Just Marigold.” Now, when she wore her “Just Marigold” clothes, they assumed it was some get-up, a nod to vagrant hippies or her way of romanticizing gypsies: see-through lace dresses and flowers in her hair and ruffles on her socks. A way to get attention with a different sort of spotlight.
    Marigold never acknowledged their comments, her sister’s eye rolling or her mother’s huffs, their questions about where her video camera was. She ignored them. But now, in this empty diner, she had no reason to defend her choices. She could be herself without pretense, Abel certainly was.
    “So, you were saying,” Marigold started again. “Everyone stares?”
    “Ja. I moved here last week, oh, danka,” he said to the waitress as she delivered a steaming plate of pancakes. Looking back to Marigold he kept talking. “I just moved to the city, actually. I’ve never been out of Lancaster County this long, and even though I think everyone else dresses and speaks and walks different, I’m the outsider. I’m the one people stare at.”
    “Do you have to dress in those clothes?”
    “Oh, I suppose not. I’m on Rumspringa, it’s the running around time for youth in our community. I can wear jeans or talk to girls like you or smoke a cigarette. Then when I return home, and take my vows, I’m supposed to return to the Old Ways.”
    “I’ve seen Amish Mafia.”
    “I don’t know how that’s relevant.” He suppressed a smile.
    “Me either.” Marigold laughed, appreciating his quick retort.
    He poured syrup on his stack, ate bacon, added pepper to his eggs. He seemed extraordinarily happy with the food before him and Marigold watched him eat the home-style meal with gusto.
    “But you don’t want to change your clothes, even though you aren’t at home?” she asked.
    “No. I didn’t come here to experience life as an Englisher .”
    “Why did you come here then? You’re on your Rumspringa and just decided to hang out in D.C? Did friends come with you, like, to see the White House or something?”
    He smiled, that slow, soft smile again, inviting her in, making her want to stay even though her coffee was gone.
    “I’m here for school, I’m doing a Business Intensive at Jamestown for ten weeks.”
    “Really? My sister is doing the Intensive too. Do you know a girl named Lily?”
    “No, but it’s hard to remember anyone, everyone blurs.”
    “My sister was obsessed with getting in. It’s crazy competitive.”
    “Ja, well I don’t know all that, but the classes are really interesting. I’m in the Business Program.”
    Marigold groans, and shakes her head. “You want to be the next Industry Superhero ?”
    “What?”
    “Nothing. But that’s my sister’s program too.” She nods at the waitress, who comes over and pours them both more coffee. “The summer program’s for incoming high school seniors, is that you then?”
    “No, I mean, technically I don’t know. I’m eighteen, but I stopped school in eighth grade, everyone at home does. I’ve been teaching myself ever since. They based my acceptance off some test scores.”
    “So you’re like an Amish genius?”
    “No. I’m a guy who happens to really enjoy learning.”
    “Sure.”
    “You’re very easy to talk to, Marigold, I haven’t had a conversation this long all week.”
    “That’s what all the boys say,” she said, joking, but he didn’t laugh. He looked at her and she shook her head, not knowing why she sat her with this stranger, but also knowing she didn’t want to get up. “Honestly, Abel, you are too. Here I am supposed to be getting a job and you show up and now I’m being totally irresponsible.”
    “Are you usually quite responsible?”
    “Usually I’m a