"Remember this picture?" Aria held her laptop and pointed to a photo she'd uploaded of her and Hallbjorn standing at the edge of Laugardal, one of Reykjavik's biggest public pools. Snow was flurrying all around them, sticking to their bare skin. In Iceland, outdoor public pools remained open all year round because they were geothermally heated. "That place had the scariest water slide ever!"
"You were such a wimp." Hallbjorn poked her. "All those kids were waiting behind you in the freezing cold, begging you to take your turn."
"I know, I know." Aria winced at the memory. She'd been too scared to slide down the enormous waterslide, turning around walking down the wooden staircase instead.
It was Christmas evening, and they were snuggled under the covers of Aria's bed. This had definitely turned into Aria's best Christmas ever. Hallbjorn was an even better kisser than she remembered, and for the last twenty minutes, he'd been rubbing the kinks out of her neck, which made her shudder with glee and never want to leave this room for the rest of her life.
Aria flipped to the next picture and burst out laughing. "The ponies!" It was a photo of Hallbjorn's Icelandic horses, Fylkir and Fyra. Aria was on Fylkir, the shorter, fatter, and more docile of the two, but there was still a terrified look on her face. Hallbjorn was next to her on Fyra, who was the color of cinnamon and had giant nostrils.
"You made me go along that steep cliff on our first ride," Aria scolded Hallbjorn. "I could have killed you. I was so urged we were going to fall over the edge."
"Icelandic ponies are sure-footed," Hallbjorn protested.
"Well, I didn't believe you at the time." Aria looked at her younger self in the picture. "It's no wonder my brother was afraid of them. They look so small and untrustworthy."
Hallbjorn burst out laughing. "Mike was afraid of Icelandic horses?"
Aria slid lower under the covers. Oops. That was one of Mike's biggest secrets. "Uh, forget I said that."
"Who's this guy?" Hallbjorn scrolled to another picture on the laptop. Aria's photos were in no particular order, and the next shot was of Noel Kahn at one of Ali's seventh-grade parties. Aria had covertly taken the photo peeking around the corner and pressing the shutter when she knew Noel wasn't looking. Ali had teased her mercilessly when she'd found out Aria had camera-walked him.
"Oh, that's someone I used to like before I moved to Iceland," Aria said nonchalantly.
"I think you told me about him." Hallbjorn stared hard at Noel's image. "Alison stole him from you, right?"
"He was never mine to steal." Aria peered at Noel's image. He was wearing his lucky University of Pennsylvania Nike lacrosse shirt—typical. "Besides, every guy was into Alison. I thought it was mean of her to go out with him, though. She knew I liked him." Worse, Ali had gone out with Noel for only one date before dumping him. It felt to Aria like she'd done it to prove she could get any guy she wanted—or any guy Aria wanted.
He propped himself up on one elbow. "He was an idiot to pass up the chance to date you. You're so amazing. I cared a lot about Anja, but I never forgot about you. You were my first love."
"Love?" Aria squeaked, the word almost palpable in the air around them.
Two pink splotches appeared on Hallbjorn's cheeks. "Yes, love."
Suddenly, a twig snapped outside the window, followed by a peal of laughter. Aria slid off the bed and parted the curtains. The night sky was hazy. There was a thin, glossy sheet of ice over the snow. Around the perimeter of the property was a set of crisp, fresh boot tracks leading straight to the back door.
"Oh my God." Aria stepped away from the window. "I think there's someone out there!"
She ran down the stairs, Hallbjorn right behind her. As they reached the foyer, there was a crash out back, like someone had knocked over one of the metal garbage cans. Aria grabbed Hallbjorn's arm and squeezed.
"It's okay." Hallbjorn pulled her close. "It's probably just an animal."
"It's not an animal." Aria's heart was beating so quickly she felt woozy. "Someone is following me. Trying to get in."
"Why would you say that?"
"I've had a stalker for months, remember?" She'd filled him in on the A drama that afternoon.
"Yes, but didn't you say your stalker was dead?" Hallbjorn tiptoed toward the patio. "It's an animal. I'll scare it away."
"Don't go out there! I'll call the police," Aria said, picking up the hallway phone.
All the blood drained from Hallbjorn's face and he lunged for the phone, banging it back on the receiver. "No! Don't call the police!"
Aria stepped back in shock. "Whoa. What is going on with you?"
For a second, Hallbjorn looked like he was going to protest that nothing was wrong, but then his shoulders sagged, and he crumpled in on himself. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to tell you…I'm wanted by the police in Iceland. I'm afraid the police here might know, too. It's why I've been hiding and avoiding cop cars. They could be after me. So please don't call them. I'll go check out the noise and then I'll explain everything." Hallbjorn made his way to the back door.
A sick feeling spread through Aria's stomach and she retreated into the living room, where she sank down on the couch. She wondered if she should call the cops anyway. But this was Hallbjorn. There had to be a good reason he was wanted.
"It was just a raccoon," Hallbjorn announced as he came back into the front hallway. "I saw it running away."
Aria looked up at him. "Why are the police looking for you?"
"I led a protest against the destruction of a local puffin sanctuary outside of Reykjavik. I took you there once."
"I remember," Aria said slowly. "It was the place where the baby puffins hatched." She'd fallen in love with the baby puffin as soon as she'd seen them, desperate to steal one and take it home as her pet.
Hallbjorn raised his head and gave her a plaintive look. "They were going to tear it down and build a mall. Displace all those puffins. Bulldoze their habitats. I couldn't let that happen. So I protested, and I was arrested. But I put up a fuss, and then I escaped custody. The police were after me for days. I hid out at a friend's, but then I realized I had to get out of the country. I took a boat to Norway and caught a plane out of there. My passport wasn't flagged in Norway since no one was looking for me internationally yet."
Aria blinked at him, trying to take this all in. "So…you weren't coming to the States to see family after all?"
Hallbjorn shook his blond head. "I have some friends in New York who said I could stay with them. But when they diverted us to Philadelphia, I thought of you." He took her hands. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away—I was fraud of what you might think of me. I was desperate. I couldn't turn around and go back to Iceland. They'd throw me in jail. Can you forgive me?"
Aria pulled her hands away and curled them on her lap. She didn't like that Hallbjorn had lied to her—so many people had deceived her in the past few months. But then, would she have let him in if she'd known he was wanted by the cops? She'd had enough police interaction lately to last her whole life.
She looked up. "You were thrown in jail just because you protected some puffins?" In this country, he'd probably get a slap on the wrist and probation. Eco groups like PETA and Greenpeace would make him their poster boy.
"Iceland is very strict," Hallbjorn insisted. "Protesting and running from the police are practically as bad as committing murder." A contrite look washed across his face, and he put his face in his hands. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
Aria moved closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You were just trying to save the puffins—I would have protested against them tearing down the sanctuary, too. Maybe you could stay in the States for a while. Get a student visa and go to university here."
As soon as the words spilled from her mouth, she began to play it out in her head. Maybe Hallbjorn could go to Hollis or Moore College of Art in Philly; Aria could visit him every weekend. The two of them could drive to New York so she could show him the sights, just like he'd shown her around Reykjavik. It would be wonderful to have someone to talk to, a date on the weekends, a connection to Iceland again.
But Hallbjorn shook his head. "I can't stay here. My travel visa only lasts for another week. The only way I stay here is if I hide, and I'm not sure I want to do that, either."
"There's got to be another way." Aria leaned back against the couch and thought for a moment. Her gaze bounced around the room, noting the pile of laundry on the floor, the diamond-shaped God's eye hanging from the mirror, and the empty picture frame on the side table. Not so long ago, the frame had held a picture of Byron and Ella on their wedding day, lovingly embracing under a canopy of trees. When Aria was little, she used to gaze at that photo for hours, thinking that her parents were the most romantic people on the planet.
It was like lightning bolt suddenly struck her brain. She sat up straighter. Hallbjorn, what if we got married?"
Hallbjorn barked out a laugh. "Pardon?"
"I'm serious. If we got married, your visa would be extended indefinitely. You could go to school here. Get a job. And eventually, when enough time has passed and we hire you a good lawyer, maybe we could work it out with the Icelandic police, and you could go back there and visit your family."
Hallbjorn ran his tongue over his teeth. "Is it even legal for us to get married here?"
"I think the legal age is sixteen? Seventeen?" Aria shrugged. "Even if we have to get a parent's consent, I could forge my mom's signature. I'm sure no one really checks as long as we pay the fees." She grasped Hallbjorn's hands, her heart suddenly pumping hard. "It's the best idea.. it solves all your problems. And wouldn't it be fun to be husband and wife? We could go to Atlantic City! Make a weekend of it and get married in one of those little chapels in the casinos! I have some money saved up—we could stay in an amazing hotel. Order room service. Drink champagne. Play blackjack. Live it up."
Hallbjorn didn't look convinced. "We're talking about marriage. It's a serious commitment. Are you sure that's something you want to do?"
Aria tucked her feet under her butt. It was true that she sometimes threw herself headfirst into situations without thinking them through—her romance with Ezra was one example. But this was different. Hallbjorn was practically her age. They had so much fun together, had so much in common, and they could talk for hours. What more was needed in a marriage besides that? Look at Byron and Meredith: What on earth did they have to talk about? Aria's marriage to Hallbjorn would probably outlast theirs.
And it wasn't just Hallbjorn the marriage would benefit: Aria had a feeling it would be wonders for her life, too. Marrying Hallbjorn would mean he'd never leave her, as so many other people had. He would be her life buoy in a rocky sea. She could make her marriage work, doing the opposite of everything her parents had done.
"It's definitely something I would want to do," she decided. "But what about you? Are you saying you wouldn't want to marry me?"
Hallbjorn's face softened. He leaned forward and pushed a hair out of Aria's face. "I do love you. But this is a huge sacrifice you're making, all so I don't have to go back to Iceland."
"It's not a sacrifice." With every word, Aria's conviction felt stronger and stronger. "This is something I believe in with all my heart. I promise."
She stared into Hallbjorn's eyes, trying to convey everything that she felt and wanted. Hallbjorn stared back, his icy-blue eyes wide. Finally, a tender smile spread across his face. "Let's do it." He sang to his knees. "Aria Montgomery, will you marry me?"
"Yes!" Aria exclaimed, falling into Hallbjorn's arms. "Atlantic City, here we come!"