WHEN I WAS A little girl, bored was a bad word in our family. If I ever dared to claim I had nothing to do, better believe my mother or my grandma found something for me, and it was never anything fun. I learned fast to occupy myself or suffer the consequences, usually in form of weeding a garden, shelling peas, peeling potatoes or putting labels on the jars of jam Grandma made.
Bored was not something I remembered being in the last decade or so. Having an eight-year old daughter, helping my brother run our family farm and the adjoining roadside produce stand . . . yeah, I was usually tired, overwhelmed, maybe anxious, but never bored.
At the moment, though, I was dangerously close.
We kept our farm stand, The Colonel’s Last Stand—named for our several-times over great grandfather, Colonel Pierce Reynolds—open all year around, though we opened later and closed earlier in the winter. Now it was early spring, and none of our own crops were ready yet. We had some oranges and grapefruit up from Florida, but that wasn’t exactly bringing in the crowds of shoppers. Business would begin picking up in another month, but for now, I had time to kill in the long gaps between customers.
This was new. Usually, I had my daughter Bridget hanging out with me at the stand, but she was spending this weekend at her best friend Katie’s sleepover. I missed her happy chatter and smiling face. I’d already re-organized our shelves of non-perishables, dusted the tables, tidied up the cashier area . . . I sighed and wondered if I could justify closing up an hour early and heading home. My brother was more than likely out in the fields, and I might end up with the whole house to myself. The image of a frothy bubble bath popped into my mind, and I smiled. How long had it been since I’d had time for that? I couldn’t even remember.
I’d just about talked myself into shutting down when I heard the familiar crunch of car tires on our gravel parking area. Stifling a groan—and watching my luxurious bath float away on one those shiny bubbles—I pasted a smile on my face and leaned out to see who’d stopped by.
My smile turned genuine when I recognized the sleek black Porsche. “Alex!” I darted out to meet him halfway across the small lot. “What’re you doing here?”
His dark blond hair was perfectly styled, and his pale blue eyes twinkled at me. “Well, I just thought I’d stop at the best stand in Georgia and see what goodies you might have for me today. Plus get a hug from my best friend. What’s doing, chick?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and breathing in his scent. “You always smell so expensive, Alex.”
He laughed. “Darling girl, I am expensive.” He tweaked my nose. “And you are adorable. Look at you, still rocking the pigtails.”
I stuck out my tongue. “Did you come all the way from Atlanta just to make fun of me?”
“No, actually. I have some business in Savannah on Monday, and I thought I’d spend the weekend here with the folks before I go. I’m on my way to the farm now.”
I tilted my head up at him, my eyes narrowing. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time in Savannah in the last year. Something going on you want to share with the class?”
He flushed and looked over my shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Oooooh, someone’s got a boyfriend!” I sang the words.
Alex shook his head, but his mouth curved into a smile, almost as though he couldn’t help himself. “Not quite. Not yet. But . . . maybe. Someday.”
“I want to hear all the dirt.” I took his hand and pulled him into the enclosed part of the stand. “Sit there.”
Alex dropped into the folding chair we kept next to the register, and I hoisted myself onto the citrus display table, pushing a few bags of oranges out of the way first.
“There’s not so much to tell. Not yet. I met him last year, when I came over for meetings. He’s an art dealer with one of the galleries there. We hit it off, but he wasn’t looking for a relationship. We were just friends. But we started chatting on line, and texting, and whenever someone had to take a meeting in Savannah, I volunteered.” He shrugged. “Things are heating up a little, but we’re both being . . . cautious. He got out of a long-term relationship a year ago, and it didn’t end well.”
“Awww . . .” I hugged my arms around my middle. “Romantic! What’s his name?”
“Ah-ah-ah.” Alex wagged his finger at me. “That falls under the category of me to know, you to find out. Maybe.”
“Oh, come on. I won’t tell anyone. I pinky swear.” I held up my little finger.
“Nope. I don’t want to jinx it. But if anything gets more certain, you’ll be the first person I call, okay?”
“Hmmm.” I pouted. “Fine. And I want to meet him, too.”
“So you can tell him all my deep, dark secrets? I don’t think so.”
“You’re no fun at all.”
“That’s not what he says.” Alex wiggled his eyebrows at me until I giggled. “So enough about boring old me. What’s happening in the exciting metropolis that is Burton, Georgia?”
I lifted one shoulder. “Oh . . . you know. Same old. It’s been slow here today, so I was just about to close up when you stopped. Nothing’s really going on.”
“And how about Sam and Meghan? Things still hot and heavy there?”
Almost involuntarily, I rolled my eyes. Alex narrowed his as he looked at me.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
I sighed. “It’s a yes. As in . . . yes, they’re still groping each other any time Bridget’s out of range. PG kissing whenever she is around. It’s disgusting.” I couldn’t help a smile, though. My big brother and the pretty art teacher from Florida had taken the long road to love, fighting their attraction to each other and then refusing to believe it meant anything more than a summer fling. No one was happier than me that they were officially together now.
“Isn’t Meghan still in school?” Alex leaned an elbow against the counter.
“Yeah, technically. I mean, during the week, she lives in Savannah and goes to classes, and then she stays here with us from Friday night until Monday morning. But now that her roommate’s moved, Sam worries about Meghan being alone in the big city. So she usually comes down here in the middle of the week, too. Oh, and Sam’s gone up to stay with her a few times this winter, when nothing was going on with the farm.”
“I’m glad for them.” Alex tilted his head, studying me. “But . . . ?”
“But nothing. I’m happy for them, too. Thrilled.”
“Oh, yeah, you sound it. I guess it’s just you’re worn out from turning somersaults in joy.”
I laughed. “No, really. I am. I love Meghan like the sister I never had, and believe me, Sam’s a much nicer person to live with these days.”
“Getting laid regularly will do that for you.” Alex nodded.
“I wouldn’t know,” I snorted. “Anyway, the point is, there’s nothing I’d change. At the same time, though, I see the handwriting on the wall. I know what’s coming. Meghan graduates in May, and then she’ll start working here in town full-time in the fall. Sam hasn’t said anything, but he’s got to be planning to pop the question soon. And even if he doesn’t, she’ll be living with us all the time. It’s going to be an adjustment for me.”
“Yeah, you’ve been queen bee of the farm for a long time now. I can’t imagine it’ll be easy to share that throne.”
I swallowed over a sudden lump in my throat. “It’s not about power or control. It’s more . . . just a reminder that I don’t actually have a place, you know? Sam would never kick me out of the house. Technically, it was left to both of us, but I know it’s really his. I’m okay with that, but where do I go? Do I move into Grandma’s bedroom and just settle into life as the old spinster aunt?”
Alex laughed. “First of all, you’re not a spinster. You’re a divorcee, and you have a kid. Second, you’re not old. Third, why do you need to stay here? Maybe this is the push you need to finally move out. Find a place for you and the kidlet.”
“It’s a lot more complicated than that.” I slid from the table and brushed off my butt. “Sam still needs me to help him run the farm and the stand. We’re doing pretty well, but not good enough to support two households yet. To get my own place, I’d need a job. And if I get a job, I can’t help Sam. See what I mean? Complicated.”
“Only if you let it be.” Alex rubbed my shoulder. “Keep an open mind. Maybe something’ll pop up. Someone who’d be willing to rent to you cheap. Are you really going to be comfortable living with Sam and Meghan after they get married and start popping out the bambinos?”
“No. But I’ll burn that bridge when I get there.”
“Hmmm.” Alex studied me, and the gleam I caught in his eye sent a shiver down my spine.
“Hmmm what? I don’t like the look you’re giving me.”
“Who, me?” He hooked a thumb at his chest and widened his eyes, trying to look innocent. “I was just thinking . . . that if you hooked a hottie and found your own HEA, maybe this wouldn’t be so . . . what did you say? Complicated.”
I patted his cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re delusional. Not going to happen, my friend. No hotties in the town of Burton. Well, one right now, standing in front of me, clearly.” I amended my words in a hurry when Alex cocked one eyebrow at me. “But none who’d be interested in me.”
“You have no idea, Ali Baba.” The grin he shot me was so sweet, I didn’t even swat him for using the nickname he’d given me when we were in grade school.
“Ha. How would you know, anyway? You don’t even live here anymore.”
“True, but I still keep my finger on the pulse, slow as it beats here in Hicksville. For instance, I happen to know that Mason Wallace is back in town.”
I shook my head. “Of course you do. We were at his bar last summer, with Meghan.”
“Right, but have you seen him? My mother tells me he’s single again, and I can see the two of you together.”
“Alex, he’s single again because his wife died. And he has a kid. I doubt he’s looking for a good time. Plus, he was in Sam’s class. He’s old.”
My friend rolled his eyes. “May I point out, my dear, that you too have a child? Maybe that’s what makes it a good match. Yours, his . . .” He squinted. “And yours, take two.”
“I’m not looking to be the next Brady bunch, thanks. I’ve got my hands full with Bridge. I don’t need to deal with some guy’s broken heart and his kid, too.”
“Okay, fine. Well . . . there’s got to be some decent talent in town.” He stood, hooked an elbow around my neck and hauled me in for a quick hug. “Tell you what. Go out with me tonight. We’ll get drinks and dance at Mason’s bar, and you can flirt with the good old boys until you find one who lights your fire.”
“Hmmm.” I pursed my lips, considering. “I do happen to have a free night. Bridget’s at her friend’s house for the weekend. Meghan’s on her way to the farm, and she promised to make dinner. I doubt she and Sam’d be unhappy if I gave them the house to themselves.”
“Then it’s a date. I’ll pick you up at eight. Don’t be late.” Alex rubbed a knuckle on my hair. “See how I did that there, with the rhyming?”
“Yeah, real original, buddy.” I pushed away from the table. “Okay, go home and see your mama. I need to get ready to close up. Text me tonight when you’re heading my way.”
“You got it.” He blew me a kiss as he walked backward toward his car. “Dress slutty. Remember, you’re looking for a man. You’re on the prowl. You’re—”
“Oh, get gone already, won’t you?” I yelled. He was still laughing when he climbed into the Porsche and drove away.
I began to pull the covers over produce tables in preparation for closing up. It was still cool enough outside that we didn’t have to move anything into refrigeration. Once the fruit was protected, I closed and locked the non-perishable cases, emptied the cash drawer and turned the key on the register.
Just before I was about to do my final walk-through—not that I needed it, but because I knew my brother would ask if I did—I heard another car pulling up. Since I was out of sight of the parking area, I stomped my foot and growled.
“Shit and boiling bollocks. Can’t these people come when I need them, not when I’m about to go home?”
“I heard that.” Meghan’s red head poked around the corner of the wall. “Lucky I’m not a paying customer.”
I grinned. “Yup, and if you tell Sam what I said, I’ll send Bridget in to have sleepovers with you every weekend.”
Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her heart. “As God is my witness, he’ll never hear it from me.”
“What, you don’t like my kid? She adores her Auntie Megs.”
“And I love her to pieces. But I have limited time with her uncle, and I like to make the best of it.” A smile curled her lips, and I wondered what she might be remembering. Or maybe I didn’t want to know.
“So what’re you doing here? I thought you were heading right to the house to make dinner for us. My mouth’s been watering all day, thinking about your burgers.” Meghan’s family owned and ran a beachfront restaurant in Florida, and I loved it when she made us their signature hamburgers.
“I’m on my way.” The smile left her face, and she bit her lip. “I just wanted to talk to you by myself before tonight.”
I leaned back against a covered table. “Oh, yeah? What’s up?” My stomach turned a little; was this it? Was she going to tell me . . . she and Sam were getting married? No, I knew my brother; he’d definitely talk to me about that before he proposed. Or was she pregnant? My gaze dropped to her middle, still flat in her low-rise jeans.
“I stopped in town just now. Sam asked me to pick him up some part at Boomer’s.” Boomer was our local auto mechanic and one of my brother’s best friends, even if he was a full generation older than us.
“Okay.” I was mystified now. What could Boomer have to do with anything Meghan had to tell me?
“Ali . . .” She reached out and laid a hand on my arm. “Brice Evans died yesterday morning.”
For a moment, I was confused. Brice Evans? No, I’d just seen him last week at the grocery store. I hadn’t spoken to him, of course; the Evans family and I had operated on a strictly nod and fake smile basis for the past eight years. But he’d been there, looking the same as always. The same as he had when he’d taught my junior year history class in high school, and the same as when I’d seen him practically every day for four years. There was a time when I’d been like one of his daughters.
Meghan was continuing to speak, and I heard her vaguely over the buzzing in my ears. “Boomer said . . . it was sudden. Apparently he got up yesterday, went into the kitchen to get coffee and just . . . dropped. A heart attack, they think. He probably never knew it was happening.”
“Oh, my God.” I whispered the words, bracing my hand on the edge of the table as unexpected tears stung my eyes. “But . . . he was so young. I can’t believe it.”
“I know. Poor Reenie.” Brice’s younger daughter Maureen had been my best friend all through high school, but we hadn’t spoken in over eight years. She and Meghan had gotten friendly last summer, although Meghan didn’t say much about it, out of deference for my feelings, I suspected.
“I can’t believe I didn’t hear about it before now. Yesterday morning, you said?”
Meghan nodded. “Boomer said no one knew until early today. Mrs. Evans and the girls were at the hospital most of yesterday—they tried to resuscitate him, I guess. And then . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced up at me with worry and sympathy in her green eyes. “They wanted to wait for . . . Flynn to get home.”
I’d known it, realized the truth in some hidden part of my brain, but hearing his name aloud jolted me. Of course he’d come home now. He’d return because he had to.
“He’s here, then?” My voice was surprisingly steady.
“Boomer said he got in before lunch. He’s with his family, at the house.”
My body was stiff and my movements jerky as I nodded. “Okay.” I swallowed hard. “I’m . . . I’m going to close up here and head for home. You coming?”
Meghan gripped my arm. “Ali . . . are you all right? I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
I forced a smile, as wooden as the ones I’d aimed at Brice Evans since the summer after senior year. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean . . . it is what it is, right? I’m sorry for Reenie and Iona. I know what it’s like—” My throat closed. “I need to go, Meg. I need to get home. Bridge—” Shit. She was staying in town, at Katie’s house. I wanted her home, with me, away from where anyone—and by anyone, of course I meant Flynn—might see her.
Which was absolutely ridiculous. For eight years, my daughter had been living here, right outside Burton. She’d been going to school in town since she was five. In kindergarten and again this year, she’d shared a class with Graham Fowler, the son of Iona Evans Fowler . . . nephew of Flynn Evans . . . and while I’d been a little worried at first that someone might suspect the truth, when no one did, I’d relaxed.
But it was different now. Now her father was back in town.
Meghan stayed with me while I finished locking up, and she drove me to the house. Usually, I walked from the stand; cutting through the newly-planted fields and the budding groves of peach trees gave me a few minutes of peace and quiet between working the stand and dealing with bedlam at home. But today I didn’t hesitate when Meghan steered me into the passenger seat of her Corolla.
“Are you going to see him?”
I turned to look at her, frowning. I’d been wrapped up in my own spinning thoughts, forgetting she was even in the car. Which was really stupid, since she was the one driving it.
“See who? Oh, Flynn? No. No, I doubt it. I mean . . . I don’t think he’d want to see me. And . . . his dad. That’ll keep him busy. The funeral. And . . . everything.” I sniffed. “And then there’s the fact that he left me here, alone and pregnant, eight and a half years ago.”
“But Ali, what about Bridget? Flynn’s back in town. Aren’t you going to tell him about her?”
“God, no.” On that point, I was absolutely certain. “He won’t be here long. Trust me, he’ll get the hell out of town as soon as he can.”
She was quiet for a minute, and then as we pulled into the long driveway that led to my house, she glanced at me sideways. “Ali, remember last summer? When I was leaving to go back to Florida, and Sam and I were . . . well, you remember. I believe your words to me were something like ‘too stupid to see what was right in front of us’?”
I sighed. “Yes, of course.” I had a feeling I knew where she was going with this.
“And I asked you what you’d do differently if you could go back to the day Flynn left. You said you’d leave with him. That not a day went by that you didn’t regret letting him go.”
“I know what I said, and I meant it. If I could go back to that day, I’d change what I did. But this isn’t the same thing. It’s nothing like the same thing. Because almost nine years have passed since he walked away from me, and a hell of a lot of stuff has happened. What do you think he’d say if I told him now that I had his baby and never let him know? You think he’d thank me for that?”
“If not now, when? When his mother passes and he comes back again? Or when Bridget graduates from high school and asks you why she’s never met her dad? When is it the right time?”
I pressed my lips into a thin line and crossed my arms over my chest. “Not now. That’s all I know.” I turned in my seat and pointed at her as she parked the car. “And remember, you promised you wouldn’t tell Sam.”
Meghan looked miserable, her eyes stormy as she frowned. “I made that promise before Sam and I were . . . well, together. I haven’t said anything to him because I promised you and it’s never come up. And because you said you’d tell him yourself.”
I unhooked my seat belt and reached for the door handle. “I will. But not now.”
“Ali, please. Think about this. Flynn probably won’t be here long, like you said, and you don’t know when he might be back in town.”
I twisted my face into a parody of a smile. “That’s what I’m counting on.” I opened the door and climbed out of the car, forcing myself to walk slowly and not look upset. My brother was weird; like most guys, he was clueless much of the time, but when I was trying to hide something, he suddenly morphed into a bloodhound.
He was sitting at the kitchen table when I stepped inside. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling, and I laughed a little when his face fell.
“Don’t worry, big brother, your sweetheart is right behind me. She drove me in from the stand.”
Sam tipped his chair back, studying me. “You’re back early. What’s wrong?”
“We were slow all afternoon, and I decided to wrap up early. Why does something have to be wrong?”
The screen door behind me slammed as Meghan came in. She dropped her bag at my feet and skirted around me to get to Sam, whose chair legs clattered to rest on the floor again when he jumped up to meet her halfway. I rolled my eyes as he gripped her upper arms and brought his lips down to crush hers.
“Okay, guys. That’s enough. Geez, you just saw each other Wednesday.”
Sam released Meghan’s arms, chaffing them a little as he smiled down at her. And then his smile faded. “What’s wrong, babe?” He held her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones.
“I stopped at Boomer’s to pick up your whatchamacallit. And Boomer told me Brice Evans died yesterday.”
My brother’s eyes closed. “No. Oh, my God. What happened?”
Meghan told him the same thing she’d shared with me back at the stand. Sam didn’t say anything, but I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He’d known Mr. Evans as long as I had, though not quite as well; he hadn’t dated the man’s son for four years.
“Did Boomer say anything about Maureen and Iona?” He sat back down as Meghan turned to take her bag upstairs.
“Not really. Only that they were waiting to make arrangements until Flynn got here, and that he’d arrived this morning.” Her eyes flitted to me, and then back to Sam. “Um, I’m going to take my stuff upstairs. I’ll start dinner in a few minutes.”
I pulled out the chair across from my brother, closing my eyes and letting my head drop back as I slouched.
“You okay?”
I opened one eye. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, careful not to look at me too closely. “I don’t know. Your ex-boyfriend is back in town after eight years. His dad is dead. Thought you might, you know . . . need to talk.”
I toed my sneaker off under the table and lifted my sock-covered foot to kick him in the knee. Not too hard; I wasn’t trying to do damage, just get him to back off before I lost my shit right here in front of him.
“Ouch. What was that for?” He scowled at me, rubbing his leg.
“Man up. I barely touched you. And stop with the questions. I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
For a minute, Sam looked like he didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved. Then his eyes narrowed. “You already talked to Meghan, didn’t you?”
“We’re girls, Sam. And she might be your snuggle bunny, but she’s my best friend. Yeah, we talked. So you’re off the hook. I promise, I’m not going to go nutso and chase after Flynn while he’s in town. In fact, I’m going to do my damnedest to stay out of his way. I think that’s the smartest for all of us.”
“So you won’t go . . . to the funeral? Or even just stop in and say hello? Ali, you practically lived at the man’s house during high school. Between Reenie and you, and . . . well, you know. Seems like you should do something.”
I shifted in my chair. “I’ve lived in the same town as Maureen without seeing her on purpose or talking to her beyond the bare essentials for a long time. Don’t you think it would be a tad hypocritical to pretend we’re best buds now?”
“It’s what people do.” Sam’s eyebrows drew together. “You rise above old disagreements and offer comfort, right?”
“This is a little more complicated than Miss Peggy and Miss Alice fighting over their sweet potato recipe, Sam. Nothing good can come of me bringing up old hurts. It’d be more painful for everyone.” I traced the grain of the table, staring at the ancient pattern. “Maybe later . . . I could see Maureen. When everything’s over, and things are getting back to normal, I’ll stop in and talk with her someday.”
Sam grunted. “Make sure you do. It’d be good for you to be friends again. Pretty stupid to let high school crap get between you.”
I nodded, but I didn’t want to walk down that road. Not now. “I thought that’s why we kept Meghan, so she could be my friend. You know, so I could finally have the sister I always wanted.”
He smirked. “Nah, we keep her for better reasons than that.” One eyebrow quirked up suggestively.
I faked a gag. “You know, just because Bridget’s not here doesn’t mean y’all have to amp it up to an R rating. I’m still your baby sister. Your impressionable baby sister.”
“Whatever you say.” He stood up and flicked my nose as he passed. “I’m going upstairs now to, um . . . help Meghan unpack.” He turned to wink at me. “You might want to stay down here. Sometimes she gets a little loud when she unpacks.”
“Gross!” I threw my sneaker at his departing back. He only laughed.
I waited until his footsteps echoed at the top of the stairs, and then I reached for my phone. I had to cancel with Alex. I might’ve spent many years estranged from the Evans family, but it would be disrespectful to go out dancing when we’d just heard of Brice’s death. And if there was one thing I knew, small towns like Burton had long memories. News of me partying would’ve gotten around to Maureen . . . and to Flynn. I might not want to see him, but I didn’t want to rub that fact in his face. Once upon a time, we’d meant too much to each other. Once upon a time, Flynn Evans had been my whole world.
For a minute, I sat, staring down at the phone, remembering. I didn’t let myself dwell, not often. Hardly ever, in fact. That stroll down memory lane was still too painful. But now his face was front and center in my mind, the way he’d looked that day twelve years ago when he’d first noticed me.
I’d been stupid crazy for Flynn Evans since the moment I’d seen him on the first day of high school. He was tall, with light brown hair that he wore a little long. But it was his eyes that had captured me right away: they were the most vivid blue, framed with long eyelashes I envied.
While he wasn’t exactly skinny, neither was he bulked up, like some of the football players I’d seen around the school. When he leaned against a wall, bracing himself with one arm while he talked with a friend, the muscles in that arm sprang into definition, and my mouth watered. Yum.
I hadn’t been able to help staring at him a little. I tried to be cool about it, sneaking a peek here and there, but it was hard to pull my gaze away. He didn’t look my way, though, and that didn’t surprise me. I’d spent most of my school years flying under the radar, never part of the popular crowd. I wasn’t picked on or bullied; no one seemed to really notice me, unless it was as Sam’s little sister.
“What’re you looking at, Ali Baba?” Alex slid next to me as I lingered at my locker, quietly drooling over Flynn. Bumping his shoulder against mine, Alex followed the direction of my stare, took in the blush on my face and smirked. “Or should I say . . . who?”
“Nobody. Nothing. What?” I busied myself with my books. “I’m just thinking. About . . . chemistry. The class.”
“Suuuure you are.” Alex laughed. “Hmmm. Hey, I know that guy. He goes to my church. We’ve been in CCD together since we were little. His name’s Flynn Evans.”
“Really?” I tried to act as though I couldn’t care less. “That’s nice.”
“Yeah, want me to introduce you? I can call him over.” Alex opened his mouth, and I grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Are you out of your mind? Stop it.” I hissed the words, my eyes wide.
He laughed. “Oh, girlfriend, how’re you going to get the guy if you don’t want him to notice you?”
I slumped back against my locker. “It’ll happen magically. One day he’ll look up and see me, and he’ll realize that I’m everything he’s ever wanted in a girlfriend.”
“Uh huh. Well, when you get tired of waiting for fate to take a hand, let me know, and I’ll make the introductions.” He patted my head in the patronizing way I hated. “Gotta run for Spanish. Hasta la vista, baby.”
For three weeks, Alex teased, taunted and threatened. Every time we were together when Flynn passed by, Alex looked at me, eyebrows raised significantly. I wanted to murder him. At the same time, I was almost to the point of giving into him, because as far as Flynn Evans was concerned, I was totally invisible girl.
And then it happened.
I’d joined the newspaper at the beginning of the school year because I loved to write, and my parents were pushing extracurricular activities. It seemed like a good fit. I hadn’t known Flynn was on staff, too, as a photographer, until our first staff meeting. Not that he’d seen me there; I’d cowered in the back and found the perfect angle to ogle him while still appearing to be looking up front at our advisor as he spoke.
Mr. Wilder had worked on a big paper in Richmond, Virginia, and he had definite ideas about how to run things, even at the high school level. He assigned all of us newbies to upper classmen who’d show us the ropes, take us along on stories they covered and teach us how to put together a tight article. He called it the Bee Helpful program, since the school paper was named the Burton Bee.
I was assigned to Rachel Thomas, a pretty junior with dark eyes and silky black hair. She was business-like but patient; I didn’t have any delusions that we’d be best friends, but I figured I could count on her to answer any questions.
About a month into school, she came by my locker before school began.
“Hey, we’ve got an assignment for today. Wilder wants us to cover the dedication of the new town sign out on Highway 18. I’ll drive. Are you cool to be a little late getting home?”
I nodded, making a mental note to find Sam and tell him I wouldn’t be riding home with him, unless he wanted to wait. And since it was harvest time out on our farm, hanging around after school ended wasn’t an option. I’d have to see if my mom could run back into town to get me later.
As if reading my mind, Rachel added, “I can just drive you home after, if that makes it easier. That way, you don’t have to scramble for a ride.”
I smiled in gratitude. “That’d be great if you don’t mind.”
She nodded and turned to leave. “Meet me out front right after school. Bring your notebook.”
At the end of the day, I hurried to my locker, traded out books and sprinted out to where Rachel lolled against one of the columns. One side of her mouth lifted when she spotted me.
“Slow down, don’t kill yourself. We have to wait for the photographer.” She rolled her eyes, and I frowned.
“Can’t Kyle drive himself?” Like everyone else in the school, I knew Kyle Durham. He was a big shot, smart and athletic, and a gifted photographer to boot.
Rachel bared her teeth in a grim smile. “Didn’t you hear? Kyle has mono.”
“Oh.” My mind reeled; I’d heard my parents teasing about mono being the kissing disease, but I knew it was fairly serious. “That sucks.”
Rachel lifted one eyebrow. “Know what sucks worse? Lana Tyler has mono, too.”
“Lana?” All the underclassman females in this small high school watched the intricacies of the romances between juniors and seniors as though it were a soap opera. “Isn’t she dating Matt Gibbs?”
“Kyle’s best friend? Uh, yeah.” Rachel grinned. “You see the awkward? Anyway, the freshman photographer’s covering today with us. Flynn’s a good kid. His sister’s a friend of mine. And their dad teaches history here.”
I tried for an interested but unaffected expression, as though all of this was new information to me. The last thing I needed was a reputation as a pathetic lovesick girl, which could happen if Rachel caught me mooning after Flynn.
“Oh, here he is. Hey, Flynn.” Rachel straightened, smiling. “We gotta cover the dedication of the new town sign. Try not to pass out from excitement.” She pointed at me. “Do you know Ali? Alison Reynolds, Flynn Evans. She’s going to write the story. I’m just the wheels for this one.”
My stomach felt as though it was going to flip right out of my body, and I was dizzy. Flynn turned those piercing blue eyes on me, and a spark zinged down my body, the same way it did when I inadvertently touched the live wire in the barn my dad always warned me not to get near. There was an echoing of the same shock and recognition in Flynn’s eyes, and that warmed me to the core. It gave me the courage to smile at him.
“Yeah, Flynn and I have a couple of classes together.” I was amazed at how calm my voice sounded.
He nodded, but he didn’t speak. If Rachel noticed, she didn’t give any indication as she gestured with us to follow her. I paused when we got her car, not sure where I should sit. But Flynn opened the passenger side door and climbed into the backseat.
I got in the car and half-turned in the seat. “You could’ve ridden shotgun. I don’t mind the back.”
Flynn lifted one shoulder. “Nah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
He didn’t speak again, not a word as Rachel pulled out of the lot, drove through town and out onto the highway. The two of us girls kept up a steady chatter, but I couldn’t help sneaking a glance at him whenever I faced sideways.
The dedication was nothing more than a few old guys standing on the side of the road. I took notes on what was said during their speeches, while Rachel muttered her sarcastic take on the whole thing. Flynn stood near us, moving every now and then to get a better angle. The old 35 mm camera he used made loud clicks as he shot.
We piled back into the car when it was over, and just outside town, Rachel glanced at me. “So you’ve got this, right? I mean, it’s pretty simple. And I don’t want to dump it on you, but I’ve got three papers due next week, and I’m working on Mr. Gilbert’s retirement interview for the paper.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll write it up and turn it in, unless you want to look the article over first.”
Rachel shook her head. “No, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Her lips curved, and she raised her voice just a little. “This is one of those stories where the pictures and the article have to jive. So you might want to see what Flynn comes up with before you turn it in.”
I flushed, wondering what Rachel had seen in my face. But whether she meant to or not, she’d given me the opening I needed. I took a deep breath and turned around to face the backseat as her car bumped into the school parking lot.
“Do you want to work on the article together? You know, make sure it goes with the pictures you took?” My voice sounded smooth and didn’t falter even once.
Flynn looked startled, but he nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I gotta develop them first, so maybe, uh, like Friday afternoon?”
“That works.” I managed to hold it together while Rachel offered Flynn a ride home and he turned her down. He stood back as we left the school again, and I kept my eyes off him with only the greatest restraint.
“So. How long have you been lusting after our boy Flynn?”
Shocked, I looked at Rachel with my mouth open. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. I was a freshman once. And I fell hard for a senior. I know the signs.”
I flopped back against the seat. “Oh, my God. Does everyone see it?”
Rachel laughed. “I doubt it. But you’re braver than me. It took me months to speak to my crush.”
I ventured a glance at her. “How did it work out for you?”
“We’re still together. He’s at UGA, so I only get to see him about twice a month, which sucks, but we’re making the distance thing work.” She winked at me. “You should totally go for it, with Flynn. You two have chemistry. I think you could go the distance.”
Thinking of her words now, as I stared at my phone, a deep sadness welled inside me. Everyone thought that Flynn and I would be together forever. But when it came down to hard choices, we’d both let each other down.
Which brought me back to Alex and canceling our plans for tonight. I texted my friend, fingers flying over the keys as I lapsed back into our old shorthand.
Did you hear?
His reply was swift. Yeah, was just about to call you. I can’t believe it.
Me neither. Obviously tonight is off.
Of course. I’m sorry, Ali.
Yeah. I paused, not sure of what to say next. He’s back, you know. In town.
Alex, who’d kept my secret so loyally, didn’t need to ask who I meant.
Are you going to see him?
Not if I can help it.
I could practically hear the sigh that accompanied his next words.
Ali, think about it. Maybe it’s time.
I gritted my teeth. Alex and Meghan were both singing the same song, even if I didn’t want to listen.
Don’t say anything. Please, Alex.
There was a long break before his next reply.
You know I won’t. But you should.