Rose dashed out of her English class and raced up the stairs to the library before the last bell finished ringing. She had stayed focused on her classes all day by staying focused on her classes all day. She wouldn’t let her mind go to this meeting.

She turned through the door and stopped dead. “How the hell did you get here before I did?”

Martin looked up from the computer.

“I knew it was important to you.”

“Did you cut class?” She plopped down next to him.

“Well, you know, the term ‘cutting class’ sounds so... violent. Let’s call it... ‘Elsewhere Learning.’”

“How am I not the first one here?” As she stood in the doorway, Lisa Sibbisson’s eyebrows squished together. “I’m always the first one anywhere.”

Martin pointed to Rose. “New sheriff in town.”

“Don’t tell my mom.” Rose turned to Lisa. “Come on in.”

Lisa pulled up a chair. “Hey, Martin.”

Martin leaned toward Rose and mock whispered loud enough for all, “Lisa Sibbisson knows my name?”

Rose chuckled. He was joking, right?

“Your new video is great!” Martin said.

“Thanks! Been a blast so far,” Lisa said.

“He built the site,” Rose said.

“What? I thought you did.”

“Nope. I had the idea. But he put it all together.”

“Wow,” said Lisa. “You do that and take amazing photos?”

Rose smiled. “He’s pretty terrific.”

“Good afternoon.” Jasper’s deep resonance filled the library.

“God, that voice,” Lisa remarked.

“Right?” Alexa bopped through the door and slid by the handsome actor. “You sure you’re not into girls?”

“Sorry, ladies.” He flashed his amazing teeth in a grin and grabbed a chair.

“I am,” Martin mumbled.

“Aw.” With a gentle laugh, Lisa squeezed his shoulder, and he sat up straighter at the touch.

“Okay,” Rose started. “Thank you all for coming. I know we only have a few minutes, and I appreciate it.” She scanned their faces all together in one room. “My Beckinfield Beatles.”

“What?” asked Lisa.

“That’s what she’s been calling you. Us. I’m Ringo,” Martin said with pride.

“Yeah,” Rose said. “You guys have the ears of all the seniors. The majority of the school, actually. You’re the most popular people around. The Beckinfield Beatles. The BBs.”

Jasper spoke with skepticism. “Please tell us that’s not why you asked us to be here.”

“I wish it was. But I need your help.” Rose ran her hands over her rocking knees. “I have to...” Her mouth dried up as she looked at the floor to find the words. “Post another...” She stopped and raised her head with hope. “You know, no, maybe I don’t. George Martin didn’t sing. No one even knew he existed until The Beatles broke up, and they started making documentaries instead of albums.”

“Rose, you told me not to let you do this,” Martin said gently.

“I know. You’re right. I have to do it.” She studied the four faces watching her. “Would you help me?”

“Of course, Rose,” said Alexa, grabbing her hand.

“I have to post...a lot. And figure out how to move past this.”

“Why?” Jasper’s deep baritone echoed. “Why do you have to create videos? Everyone else in school is already participating. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. I’ve got to do it too.” She looked at each one. “The site was my idea, and if I’m going to expect other people to participate, I’ve got to do it myself. Please help.”

“Rose,” Jasper said. “You don’t have to do it. But I’ll do what I can.”

“We all will,” said Lisa. “We’re here to support you.”

“Told ya.” Martin’s eyebrows arched as he nodded.

She again took in each of their faces. “Thank you, guys. I’ve got to get one up today.”

“By when?” asked Alexa.

“Doesn’t matter. I just have to make sure I post one every day.”

“Can you wait until after practice?” asked Lisa. “I’ll help you with this one.”

“Thanks.” There goes riding with Mom again.

“Calling dibs for tomorrow,” Alexa volunteered. “We’ll go shopping first.”

“For what?”

“If you don’t know. It’s why I need to take you shopping.”

“So, I guess the day after that, you’re my responsibility,” said Jasper.

“You know,” Alexa offered Jasper. “If you ever start looking for other women to be your responsibility...” she joked.

“And with that,” he boomed with theatrics, “I must attend rehearsal. Mr. Mamet awaits.” He strutted out of the library.

“Mr. Mamet?” asked Alexa. “What does he teach?”

“Gotta go too.” Lisa gave Rose a peck on the cheek. Then gave one to Alexa. And finally, Martin. Turning to Rose, she pointed with purpose. “See you at six in the gym.” She headed out the door.

Rose glanced at Martin, who sat up straight in his chair. He wasn’t quite smiling so much as imagining. He got a cheek-peck from Lisa Sibbisson. Go, Martin.

“All right. I’ve gotta go turn cartwheels,” said Alexa.

Martin overemphasized sticking out his cheek for a kiss. For comedy.

Alexa looked at him as if considering. “Yeah... no,” she said. For comedy... and left.

And with that, only the dynamic duo remained. Without Martin, none of this would happen, and everything would stay in her head. Now his time approached. Things moved in a direction he didn’t see coming, and she would help make it happen. But first, she must get the site louder. A lot louder.

#

Rose checked the time on her phone. She had an hour before she had to meet Lisa back at the high school. Thinking about the meeting brought another knot to her stomach. Did she really have to do this? Yes.

She took a walk to clear her head and get away from yet another kid raving about her project. The site ran live for thirty hours now. A hundred and fifty-four unique users posted two hundred and thirty-six videos, which had over five thousand views already. A trifle for a real social network like YouTube or Facebook, but targeted only for Beckinfield, she considered the launch successful. The kids used it. And, sure enough, her Beckinfield Beatles topped the four most viewed user spots. She chose correctly.

She had wandered through Town Square for a bit and thought about hitting Blondie’s or going into one of the stores to pitch the site and start the buzz among the adults. But she wasn’t the right person for that. Her BBs would take care of getting the word out to the wider audience in a few more days.

Instead, she hiked the woods toward the top of the back side of Starslope. The other side had the huge grassy open area where kids would go at night to make out, but today, this more secluded side called to her. The vast trees eclipsed the daylight, and this world within the world teemed with squirrels darting through branches, chirping birds, fluttering butterflies, hoots, buzzes, and God knows what else melding into a soul-filling symphony. And the scents changed with every stride. From the rot of fallen trees to the lilac bushes to compost piles left by critters, each scent fought to win the war and plant the flag of aroma domination. Instead, they were territorial disputes.

And, best of all, no trails led the way. Every stride became a step into the unknown. Most of her friends would consider each footfall a coin flip between conscious choice and the pull of destiny. But destiny didn’t exist. Choose on, feet. Choose on.

She came to an impasse. A wall of thick foliage blocked her path. Two brush-covered trees had fallen from opposite sides to form an X a few inches above her head.

Standing on her tiptoes, she peered through a tiny opening in the dense brush. Bright sunlight streaked into the other side. A clearing over here? On this side of Starslope?

She pulled herself onto one of the fallen trees, crouched to grab the sides, and inched up the incline. Her long skirt caught on a branch, but she yanked free without tearing the fabric. When she got to the point where the trees met to form the center of the X, she moved one of her feet to the other tree to steady herself and raised from her crouch.

The clearing opened to the size of one of her school classrooms. The sun streaked through the branches, creating dramatic glistening stripes that contrasted dark shadows. Half the leaves came alive in the bright sunlight, while the others lay dormant, dead in the dark. A ring of stones surrounded the remnants of a long-unused fire pit with rotten logs on two sides. Perhaps benches for roasting meals and telling stories a hundred years ago. Probably more.

She carefully moved to the second tree to trod down the slant, then jumped off. Her feet crunched on dead leaves. She moved farther in. How long since the last person stepped foot in here? It had taken her twenty minutes hiking in the shadowy wood to find this area barred and secluded by the natural fence of the X trees. Was this somehow landscaped by the early settlers that came with Bradford Beckin?

She scraped away a bit of the slimy moss and perched on a log by the fire pit that faced up the hill. Had the Primbobi sat on this log? She scanned the area. Five boulders lined up in a row, about two feet apart, embedded in the slope. The middle one rested slightly elevated above the others.

Why did all this look familiar? She had never been here before, never seen it but…she had read about this place! Becca Beckin had said something about this location in her diary! Something about the five pedestals. Rose couldn’t put her finger on it. What had Becca said? Something about a ceremony. Rose moved to the waist-high center boulder in the middle. Running her hand over the smooth surface, she inhaled as a sense of reverence washed over her. Becca had stood right here.

Something must have led her here. Something buried so deep inside that it evaded her consciousness. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

Rose placed both her hands on the stone and pulled herself onto her knees on top. She stood to face the campfire pit, and the sunlight streaked into her eyes. Becca had mentioned that. Becca had written that the moment the sacred spirit blessed her marriage, a beam of sunlight lit her from head to toe. This is the spot where she married! Right here! Her father then murdered her husband, the Primbobi warrior. And then Becca took her own life.

A chill came over her. On the day Becca hung herself, she came back to revisit the location where she had made the commitment. She stood right here to worship one last time.

Rose dropped to her knees. Pressing her hands together, she interlaced her fingers in prayer. No! That’s not the way the Primbobi worshipped. She climbed to her feet again. This time, she raised her arms to the side and turned her palms facing the sky. She prayed to the spirit of the Primbobi. She prayed for strength, she prayed for guidance, then she prayed that they leave her alone. She would refuse any more tasks they forced on her; she wasn’t the right person for this. A shadow fell across her face. Opening her eyes, she found her stone now stood in darkness. Had that part of her prayer landed in vain?