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  Praise for Cold Summer

  “Cold Summer is quietly intense, and filled with simple beauty. A story of a girl who has lost her place, a boy lost in time, and the universal pull to find home.” —Kristen Simmons, author of Article 5 and Metaltown

  “A heart-wrenching ride through past and present, Cold Summer beautifully explores the bonds of family—the ones we’re born into, and the ones we choose.” —Sarah Marsh, author of Fear the Drowning Deep

  “A poignant and heartfelt journey.” —Wendy Higgins, New York Times bestselling author of the Sweet Evil series

  “An addictive, emotional, deeply original, and beautifully-written time-travel tale that simultaneously offers up an engrossing plot and complex, real relationships. Just incredible! Read it.” —Martina Boone, award-winning author of Compulsion and the Heirs of Watson Island trilogy

  “There’s no time like the present in this time-travel romance.” —Kirkus Reviews

  “Cold Summer is a romance at its heart—a true coming of age. The time travel element is a unique obstacle the lovers must overcome. . . . A good summer pick for fans of romance.” —Historical Novel Society

  Praise for Ride On

  “A dusty, gritty, hair-raising adventure across a post-apocalyptic wasteland. It’s impossible not to root for Cole’s unlikely heroes.” —Erin Bowman, author of Vengeance Road and Retribution Rails

  “A starkly violent Western with surprising turns of tenderness.” —Kirkus Reviews

  “Nonstop action quickly turns the book into a page-turner and the well-drawn, complex characters are easy to like. The emotional maturity of the main characters adds depth to what could otherwise be a typical action-story plot and the romance, while understated, rings true. A richly drawn world provides a dim, gloomy context for a bright, intense story. VERDICT: Recommended as a first purchase.” —School Library Journal

  ALSO BY GWEN COLE

  COLD SUMMER

  RIDE ON

  Copyright © 2020 by Gwen Cole

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Sky Pony Press books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyponypress.com.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Cover design by Daniel Brount

  Cover photo credit: Getty Images

  Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-4282-6

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-4283-3

  Printed in the United States of America

  For Dad, because you never gave up.

  Contents

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Sam

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Sam

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  Reid

  Sam

  One Week Later

  SAM

  NEW YORK, UNITED STATES

  WHEN I CLOSED MY EYES, A PICTURE FLASHED IN my mind like a memory. It had appeared to me multiple times by now, but I’d never actually been there. A gray sky with a cliff, an ocean crashing below. Sometimes the sun was shining, sometimes not. Sometimes it seemed so real I could almost feel the breeze in my hair. Like if I only took a step forward, I could be there.

  The roar of the subway brought me back to reality, to the echoes of people talking and someone playing music around the corner. I had roughly two minutes before my train would arrive. A few people were waiting along the platform beside me, but it was too early for the evening rush-hour crowd. Perfect for me—I hated being stuck in an overcrowded subway car.

  The brisk October air sent shivers up my arms, and I pulled my beanie on to keep my hair in place, which was relatively short and always got in my eyes. I had decided to try bangs a month ago . . . never again.

  I pulled my black earbuds from my bag and stuffed them in my ears, wanting to drown out the sounds of the trains and people, but I didn’t usually listen to anything. I just liked having them in so people who preferred small talk wouldn’t talk to me, and I had an excuse to pretend like I couldn’t hear them and ignore them if I had to.

  I closed my eyes and pictured the cliffs again, imagining myself there.

  A rush of wind wafted past, and I opened my eyes to find train windows flashing by. The doors slid open once the train had stopped. A few people stepped out, and I made my way into the nearly empty subway car to find a seat. It lurched forward as I took one near the door. I put my backpack on my lap and then pulled my beanie off because it was always uncomfortably warm in the cars.

  I was about to start browsing on my phone when I noticed the person across from me, three seats down. He was looking the other way, absently fingering a messenger bag on his lap and staring at something in the empty corner. A dark jacket covered his gray hoodie, and the hood was pulled up over his head. I glanced at his shoes, which were a well-worn pair of Vans, because it’s what I do—I look at people’s shoes.

  I felt odd staring at a complete stranger, but I couldn’t help it. I’ll be honest: he was really, really good-looking, as Derek Zoolander would say. Pieces of dark hair poked out of his hood—the same color as his eyebrows and lashes. Which then brought my gaze to his eyes, which—wow. He also had a great jaw and a neck I couldn’t help but notice.

  I didn’t think even the cutest boy in my school was as good-looking as he was.

  If Nella were here, I’d be texting her a GIF of a girl fanning herself.

  A man walked by and I blinked away my focus. I looked down at my phone again and willed myself not to look up. A few popular girls in school had posted about a trip they took at the end of summer, and instead of examining their faces, I kept zooming in on the scenery—mountains, rivers, sometimes a skyline of an old European city. Just more places for my future to-visit list.

  My eyes trailed to my left again, and my heart thumped when I saw that he was now staring at me. Not staring but looking. And on the subway, there was a big difference between the two.

  His dark eyes held no aggression, and they certainly weren’t hostile, unlike some people’s on the subway. Having grown up in the area, I was already a subway pro, but I still had pepper spray for emergencies, and I never went anywhere without it.

  Since staring at strangers was an awkward thing to do, I looked away, steadying my heart. I felt his eyes on me, but when I stole a glance, he was staring off in another direction.

  I didn’t think I was a slouch, but I also knew boys who looked like that didn’t usually look at girls like me. Maybe I had so
mething on my face? I took a subtle glance at my phone screen but couldn’t see anything wrong.

  I didn’t look to my left for the rest of my train ride. When the doors finally opened, I took one last look as I stood, and he glanced up at me. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  His eyes made my stomach constrict. It took everything I had to make myself turn away and walk out onto the platform. The cold air nipped at my neck and I had a weird desire to stay on the train. It was usually the opposite. I hated the train and always wanted to leave as soon as possible.

  Maybe because I was hoping he would say something.

  I glanced back in time to see the train pulling away and the strange boy giving me the same odd smile. It made heat rush to my cheeks, and I suddenly felt stupid about feeling so flustered about an attractive stranger.

  The train disappeared, but still, I stood there unmoving. I forced myself to take a step forward and then another and walked back up to street level, where fall was coming all too quickly. My head felt too cold, and I was about to put my hat back on when I realized—I had left it on the train. I kept walking, cursing stupid, cute boys who made me forget my favorite hat.

  I turned onto our street and couldn’t wait to get inside and away from the cold. Before my parents were married, my mom made my dad promise that they would someday live on a street lined with brownstone duplexes and aged trees that grew along the sidewalks. She got what she wanted this past summer when we moved literally one mile west from our old house. Our street was quiet for the most part, inhabited only by elderly people and couples with no children and little barking dogs.

  I hurried up the steps and went inside, wanting to rid myself of the chill in my bones. Levi greeted me inside, tail wagging and ears folded back, ready for me to pet him.

  “Have you been a good boy today?” He was just over a year old, so the question was always relevant. Once I found an entire bag of Doritos flattened and licked clean on the kitchen floor. I gave him a good rub behind his large German shepherd ears and then let him out the back door to do his business.

  Before going upstairs, I grabbed a cheese stick from the fridge, then I made my way up the three flights of stairs to my room. I was usually home alone for the first couple of hours after school and I had tons of homework to do, even though watching reruns of my favorite sitcom sounded way better.

  “Sam?”

  I blinked awake and stared at the ceiling. The light coming through the window was dim, warning me of the coming evening. I was splayed over my bed where I had apparently fallen asleep, but it was so comfortable that I didn’t want to get up.

  “Sam? Are you up there?” Mom’s voice echoed from downstairs, and I sat up groggily, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My head spun a little before I could see straight.

  “Yeah, I’m here!” I glanced out the window and wondered how long I’d been out for.

  “All right, I just wanted to make sure you’re home,” she said and let out a laugh. “You’re so quiet, I never know.”

  I smiled even though she couldn’t see me, knowing exactly why I was quiet. “I’m just working on my homework.”

  “Well, I’ve already started dinner, and it should be done soon. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  I heard her walk away from the bottom steps and toward the kitchen. My books were untouched on the comforter next to me, but still, I ignored them. I ran my fingers through my hair and pulled it into a small ponytail. Most of the shorter layers didn’t stay up, but I didn’t bother trying to keep it that way.

  I slid off my bed and wandered over to my desk. Even though it was a bit too dark to see the different shades on the jigsaw pieces, I scanned over one section quickly and fitted one of the pieces where it belonged.

  The picture was beginning to form into a harbor somewhere in Greece, and the blue was the utmost amazing shade. I stared at the one missing piece of the sky where the point of a tower should have been.

  I still couldn’t find it and it bothered me to no end. I had the desire to get down on my hands and knees and search for it on the floor. Maybe I would later.

  A car door shut outside our house, and I peeked out my window to see Dad down below, coming up the stairs from the street. Mom greeted him and their muffled voices drifted from below and Levi’s dog tags rattled as he tried to get them to play with him. Unlike the rest of the dogs in our neighborhood, Levi never barked and I loved him more for it.

  A couple walked past on the sidewalk—neighbors from down the street—and then something else moved across the road, catching my gaze. There was someone leaning against one of the trees with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. A hood covered most of his hair, but I could tell it was dark, almost black.

  “Sam, dinner’s ready!”

  I flinched and looked toward my bedroom door. A shiver ran over my skin, and I couldn’t help but look out the window again.

  He was gone. I searched the dark streets, saw no one, and came back to the place I’d seen him seconds earlier. The only movement was some leaves blowing across the sidewalk, as though they were trailing after something invisible.

  My heart hammered as I made my way downstairs. The lamps were on, making the house feel warmer than it did earlier in the day, but I felt more uneasy than usual. When I came to the bottom floor, my eyes flickered toward the front door, and I had the urge to either look out of it or lock it. I shook my head—I had probably just imagined him.

  My parents were already seated at the table when I entered the room. Mom startled when she saw me in the doorway.

  “Gosh, Sam, I didn’t hear you come down.” She held her hand over her chest. Since she always took her contacts out whenever she got home, she was wearing her glasses, and her dark hair was done up in a messy knot.

  I smiled and looked down at my socks, thinking they were a bit too silent. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was being sneaky,” I said, taking my seat.

  “It’s all right,” she said, shaking her head, “you just take after your dad.”

  Right on cue, Dad looked up from his plate and grinned widely. “Don’t worry, Sam, it’s a gift. You can sneak up on your mom and scare the daylights out of her. It’s fun.”

  “And maybe your dad should watch his back more often,” Mom muttered as she stabbed some pasta with her fork, but she smiled back at him.

  I smiled at my parents’ light banter and listened to them quietly throughout dinner. I loved these nights; just the three of us around the table, talking about our days. Occasionally, one of them would bring up an old memory of when I was still a kid, and we would get a laugh.

  But not tonight. I felt like only half of me was present, still distracted by what had happened just before dinner. It may just have been my mind playing tricks on me, just like the cliffs that kept popping into my head whenever I closed my eyes.

  “So how’s your last year of school going?” Mom asked. “We haven’t had the chance to talk much lately.”

  We rarely got the chance to sit down to dinners during the school year—with my schedule and both my parents working full-time, it was hard to do more than once a week, if we were lucky.

  I pushed my food around on my plate. “It’s fine.” I shrugged. “It feels just like how school felt before. Just a different commute.”

  “So in other words, you still hate it?” she asked.

  “Hate is a strong word, but something close to that?” Mom didn’t catch my sarcasm, so I just smiled and said, “It’s fine, really.”

  “Are you still okay riding the subway?” Dad asked. Our old house was right next to the school, so I had walked every day, but now that I was riding the subway, Dad wouldn’t stop asking about it.

  The mention of the subway made my stomach do a little flip when I thought of that guy again. And as I thought of him, another clear picture formed in my mind, and just as before, it was of somewhere I’d never been.

  It was a park, almost dark with the sun going d
own. Someone sat on a bench near a pond, and an old willow stood nearby, stretching its limbs over the water. The stranger sitting on the bench had his hood pulled up, shadowing his face so I couldn’t see him. Something tickled the back of my mind, and my stomach fluttered again.

  It was like a snapshot as quick as it came.

  I looked up and both my parents were waiting expectantly, like I hadn’t spoken for a couple of minutes even though it had been only a few seconds.

  “No, it’s fine,” I answered, trying to rid the image from my head. “It’s actually a lot better than I thought it would be.” I stood and took my plate to the sink. “I should go finish my homework.”

  Mom glanced at me. “You mean start your homework?”

  I gave her an inch of a smile and made my way back up to my room. Everything was dark, and I felt around for my bedside lamp, trying to avoid bumping into my bed. I clicked it on, and the light illuminated my cozy room. My schoolbooks still sat untouched on my bed, but instead of cracking them open, I went to my window and looked down on my street.

  Nobody was out there. The street was damp and quiet, and I wondered if I had imagined it all. I couldn’t help but think that the person in the street earlier resembled the guy from the subway. The image of those cliffs came to mind, so clearly like before, and I thought that maybe that was all he was.

  Just my imagination.

  REID

  NEW YORK, UNITED STATES

  I SAW HER FOR THE FIRST TIME A WEEK AGO.

  The wind was brutal that day, and her hair kept blowing across her face. I only caught a glance before someone bumped into my shoulder and nearly knocked me down. I only caught sight of her retreating back disappearing into the subway station. She was pretty—that’s all I remembered thinking.

  And now today, by chance, I saw her again.

  I’d been sitting for ten minutes before she came and took a seat across from me. I couldn’t believe it. The chances of seeing the same person in New York City twice in the same week are less than none.

  Initially, I looked over just to see who was there, and it was her, already staring at me. It wasn’t my fault I was having a bad hair day, but maybe it was worse than I had thought. But then I remembered I had my hood on, so that couldn’t be it. There was no way I could just stare back, so I tried to give her a smile. I had never been good at smiling, but I attempted one anyway. One side of my mouth turned up . . . I think.