Chapter Forty-Nine

PEOPLE THINK CROWS ARE HARBINGERS OF war and death.

But my research has taught me that this is untrue.

Crows more fundamentally symbolize change. New beginnings. Sometimes that could mean a death, but usually in literature and history, the bird’s arrival just signifies some great awakening. An upheaval of the status quo.

Liam is already out of bed when I wake up. I rouse quickly, hypersensitive to the idea that I just slept in a guy’s bed. I check Liam’s bedroom window. No Joe this morning, but there is a collection of little oddities on the windowsill outside. I slide the window open and pull the gifts inside: a screw and a book of matches. I look over them carefully, remembering that some of Joe’s earlier gifts were our own things returned to us, but these seem random. I drop them into my pocket so that Juniper can add them to the collection she’s laid out carefully on her dresser at home. Before I go downstairs, I grab Mr. Jelly from Liam’s desk and put him back in his place of honor on the center of the bed.

I find Liam in the kitchen. He’s already showered and is dressed for the cold weather.

“Oh.” I’m surprised. “Do you have plans?”

“We have plans,” he says. “We’re going for a hike.”

“But . . . it’s cold.”

“Yes. It will feel good. Invigorating.”

I frown. He is clearly a morning person. And he likes hiking.

“Liam, this might not actually work out between us.”

He laughs and hands me a scarf. “Here, I have extra cozy things you can borrow. You’ll be warm once we start moving.”

Liam opens the pantry.

“Cinnamon apple? Maple and brown sugar?”

“Maple.”

He pulls out instant oatmeal and prepares it for us. It’s not until it’s done and cooling that he tries a different tactic.

“Hiking is not like running. It’s leisurely. We can bird-watch. Call it crow research.”

“You can’t use my column against me like that.” I point my spoon at him.

“I’m pretty sure I just did.”

I open my mouth again, but I’ve got nothing. The art show isn’t until tonight, and the fresh air might feel good.

“Okay, fine. I’m in.”

“Great. We’re meeting the others in thirty minutes.”

“What others?”

“Amelia and Sofia are going.”

“When did you even coordinate—you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know how much you and Sofia are plotting together.”

“That’s probably for the best. Let’s go.”

And with that, he shoves a travel mug into my hands and we are out the door, driving toward the hiking trails closest to school. We pull into a familiar parking lot, and Amelia and Sofia are already there, waving to us.

“Hey, this is my favorite parking lot in Auburn,” I say.

“What a crazy coincidence, mine too,” Liam says.

I take a sip from the mug he gave me earlier. “Wait, this is hot cocoa.”

“Mmhmm. It’s delicious.”

“Coffee is delicious, and it has caffeine.”

“Coffee is not delicious, you heathen. And you know I don’t drink coffee.”

“What do you have against coffee anyway?”

“Uhh . . .” Liam rubs his hands over his head, which I’ve realized he always does when he isn’t sure what to say. A little spacer to give him time to collect his thoughts. “You know how I can get really stuck in my head about stuff? I worry a lot. Caffeine just kind of amplifies those thoughts.”

I think of the school pamphlets on his desk and his thing with glasses and his perfectionism in just about every area of his life, and it all clicks.

“That makes sense. I’m sorry I was nosy.”

“No worries.” He dismisses the uncomfortable topic, and then gives me his winning smile. “You ready?”

Our hike is quick and breathless in the cold air. Sofia and Amelia are laughing ahead of us.

“Hey, I forgot to ask which pieces of yours are in the show tonight,” I say. We turned in our portfolios a few days ago and decided with our art teacher which ones should be displayed.

“Oh, I’m not actually sure. I really wanted him to pick my moonscapes, but Mr. Taylor liked another set better. What about you?”

“Portrait of an Old Crow.”

“Good, I like that one.”

I think of Joe and my pocket full of gifts, and I smile.

I like it, too.

We reach one of the lookout peaks and find a perfect view of Auburn. It looks so small from up here.

Amelia and Liam start chatting about student council, and I sit next to Sofia, who reaches for the travel mug in my hands.

“Mmm, hot chocolate,” she says after taking a sip. “Good, you drink too much caffeine.”

“I drink the exact right amount, thank you very much,” I say.

“So,” Sofia says, and I can guess what’s coming. “How was last night?”

I look over my shoulder at Liam, but it doesn’t seem like he can hear us. He and Amelia are looking up, and I follow their gazes. There are dozens of crows soaring just off the edge of the lookout.

“Um, fine. Very . . . uneventful.”

“Oh yeah?” Sofia raises her eyebrows at me.

“Well, actually, there was something.”

“Oh my God, I knew it.”

“Not that. Liam said he loves me.” I double-check that Liam isn’t overhearing us.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s huge,” Sofia says, passing me the hot chocolate again.

“Yep.” The crows are now rising and diving, and it reminds me of the morning in the rain when Liam and I saw them playing. Today it’s like they are surfing the wind.

“And you . . . ?”

“Oh, I panicked.”

“Naturally,” she says, laughing and putting her arm around me. “Take your time with it, Leighton. He’s been smitten with you from, like, day one. And I think you have been, too. But that doesn’t mean you have to say anything you aren’t ready for.”

“Yeah? I’m not being frigid?”

“Leighton, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know.” Some of the crows descend and land in the trees below, and a new batch of crows rise like a dark cloud. Dr. Cornell sent me another update on the crows—some kind of thermal map that experts use to track bird migration habits, and that they’ve used on Auburn. It looked like one giant maroon mass to me, but Dr. Cornell explained in his notes that the birds are mostly drawn to the mountains and the water supplies. Auburn officials are trying to bring in falconers next. They’ll release live hawks to torment the crow populations, encouraging them to leave with a natural enemy.

But crows are intelligent, resourceful. They can problem-solve. I don’t think anything the town tries is going to work.

The crows will leave when they want to.

And when they do, I hope they know better than to come back.