JAKE
CHAPTERS 4—6

The first time I noticed Mattie Lowe was in kindergarten.

It was the same day I fell in love with her.

Well, fell in love the way only a five-year-old can. Wholeheartedly and without reservation.

Unrealistically. Without understanding what it means.

It’s my earliest memory, and it still surprises me how clearly I remember it. It was the first day of school. After showing us our seats, our teacher, Miss Sparr, took attendance. She called out “Jake Kingston?” I raised my hand. She glanced back down and then looked at the girl in pigtails seated next to me. “Matilda Lowe?”

A bunch of kids started snickering at her name. One kid, I can’t recall his name but I can still see his face, yelled out, “What a stupid name!”

“It’s Tilly!” she protested, her hands balling up in fists. “My daddy calls me Tilly.”

That same boy responded, “That’s even stupider! Silly Tilly!”

He continued chanting her name, and most of the class joined in. I lived next door to girls close to my age, and I’d stopped playing with them because they constantly cried about everything. I turned, expecting to see her cry as well.

Instead she stood up so fast she knocked over her chair. She marched across the room to this kid who just did not know when to stop, and she punched him dead in the face. His laughter quickly turned into howls as blood dripped from his busted lip.

“Don’t you call me that!” she said, towering over this boy as he rolled around on the floor, yelping in pain.

Miss Sparr ran over, trying to help the kid, and ordered Mattie back to her seat. She picked up her chair and sat down angrily, arms folded.

I was in awe.

She was unlike any other girl I’d ever met, and I decided then and there that I was going to marry her someday.

Then I learned that girls had cooties and were to be avoided at all costs. I didn’t play with her or talk to her, because all my friends informed me that girls were gross and stupid. But I kept an eye on her. Whenever kids wanted to be mean to her or make fun of her, I stopped it. I felt protective of her, but I remember it being a weird line to walk. On one hand the other boys seemed to respect me because of how good I was at the games we played, but I risked being made fun of if I paid her attention. So I stayed away.

One time in third grade, while playing kickball, I accidentally shot the ball at her and knocked her off the swing. I felt sick to my stomach that I had hurt her, but was keenly aware of all the other boys watching us. I asked her if she was okay and then helped her up. I wanted to hug her and apologize. Instead I settled for patting her on the shoulder and smiling. I hoped she could see in my smile everything I wished I could say.

By the time it was acceptable to show an interest in girls, Mattie wasn’t an acceptable girl to be interested in. I never would have lived it down. She was the opposite of everything my jock friends had deemed attractive in a female, and while she didn’t look like the groupies who followed us everywhere, she retained that fiery spirit that I’d always admired. She still stood out, only now it was in a way that most people viewed as negative. She tended to wear all black and dyed her hair every color of the rainbow. While my friends made fun of her (until I made them stop), I liked how unique it made her. Then she started hanging out with that Trent Holden, and for the first time in my life I experienced actual jealousy. They were so alike. Trent would obviously fall for her.

Then, to complicate matters, in junior high my friend Scott developed a crush on Mattie. I must have talked about her more than I’d realized because out of nowhere he said he planned to go after her. At the only junior high dance she ever went to, he screwed up enough courage to ask her to dance. She turned him down. Which made me mostly relieved, but turned him bitter. He never got over that rejection, and even after he became “exclusive” with Mercedes, he still made fun of Mattie every chance he got.

It was then that I decided I had to get over Mattie. Socially we were in completely different worlds. I couldn’t bring her into mine, where my friends would all mock her and I could no longer so easily stop them. I couldn’t imagine what I would have in common with her one weird friend. It wouldn’t ever happen between us. So I started paying attention to all the other girls. And dating. A lot.

Then, as if to prove to myself that I was 100 percent over Mattie, I considered dating her sister, Ella. Ella was hot, in that clichéd supermodel kind of way. Almost too perfect. Which, yes, as a guy I obviously enjoyed, but it never really clicked for us. Scott had been pushing me to ask Ella out, and I suspected it was due to the kind of your-place-or-mine looks his girlfriend constantly threw in my direction. I invited Ella to group hangs all through the fall and winter, thinking that would be enough. It wasn’t.

Somehow Scott got most of our friends involved, and they all thought that I should hook up with Ella. It was all anyone ever talked about. At the end of our junior year I caved and asked Ella on a date, tired of Scott’s nagging. (I told him he should put on some lipstick if he wanted to act like my mother, and after a couple of punches we were good.)

Ella and I went out. Had fun. I figured it could work. After our first date I asked Ella if she wanted to be exclusive, mostly due to the expectations of my friends. She shrugged one shoulder and said sure. Her total lack of enthusiasm bruised my ego just a bit. It was a new experience for me, and I didn’t like it. Part of me wanted to make her fall hard.

Problem was, I wasn’t really feeling it either. I’d kissed more than my fair share of women, but something just wasn’t there when I kissed Ella. I knew she felt the same. I tried telling myself that Ella and I were the perfect match. “Like Ken and Barbie,” as Mercedes had once observed. I even changed my password at school to “Ella is hot” as a reminder. But we were apart the entire summer since my family vacationed in France, and even after the school year started back up, we hardly even spoke.

Now I stood next to my locker, backpack slung over my shoulders, ignoring Scott and Mercedes’s thirty-fourth fight of the day. I tried to think of the easiest way to break up with Ella. It was time to admit the truth. I liked her as a friend, but not as a girlfriend. As I considered my options, the bell for third period rang. Not realizing that the loop at the top of my backpack had slipped around the fire alarm, I walked forward and set it off.

Which earned me detention. (I think it surprised both me and Ms. Rathbone that I wasn’t able to talk my way out of it.)

Things got worse from there—the headmistress called my father, and he demanded I be put on the phone. I tried to tune him out, but it was difficult with him screaming at me about how I was screwing up my future and my one chance to get into Yale. How I had a legacy to live up to. About everything that was expected of me.

It was beyond depressing to have my entire future mapped out. It had already been decided where I would go to school, what I would major in, what profession I would have, and what company I would join after law school (the family firm). Sometimes I felt like asking my old man if he already had my wife picked out or if I would at least get some say in that.

But my father’s future for me felt like my relationship with Ella—fine, but not what I wanted.

I tried to get a word in edgewise, to explain that it had been an accident, but my dad wasn’t having it. He had years of experience in courtrooms and knew how to talk over his opponent. That’s what he made me feel like—as if we were two lawyers duking it out on a capital case. I got angrier and angrier, gripping the phone tightly in my hand, worried I might actually break it. It took every bit of restraint I had not to slam Ms. Rathbone’s phone down when he finally ended his ranting by threatening, yet again, to not pay for college if I didn’t go to Yale.

She gave me a sympathetic look, which made me feel worse. I didn’t need to be pitied. I had it easier than most people. I shouldn’t have been feeling sorry for myself.

Instead I focused on my anger at my father. The rest of school day flew by, and that ball of anger continued to spin in my stomach.

Right up until I arrived at detention and saw the one person I hadn’t expected to see.

Mattie Lowe.

Every time I saw Mattie, a certain visual popped into my head. Even when I tried not to think about it, I couldn’t help myself.

I had hung out with Ella at her house exactly one time. Their housekeeper had gone grocery shopping and was washing and cutting up some vegetables and fruits to stick in the fridge. Ella volunteered to help, leaving me standing there with my hands in my pockets, feeling dumb. I told her I’d wait in her room. As I crossed their living room I heard singing. I came to a halt once I realized it was Mattie. And she absolutely could not sing. At all. It made me smile. The singing ended, and, afraid my girlfriend would notice her sister had stopped me in my tracks, I headed for Ella’s room. On my way there I ran into Mattie.

A wet, naked-under-her-blue-silk-robe Mattie.

Said blue silk robe clung tightly to her skin and showed just how much she had recently changed, with curves in places they hadn’t been before.

My heart slammed hard against my chest, my throat felt thick. Mouth dry. Hands shaking.

Mattie was hot.

My first instinct was to grab hold of her, push her against the wall, and kiss her senseless. A raging fire blazed up inside, consuming me with want. I forced myself to stay put, worried that if I moved at all, I would act on that instinct. I couldn’t speak, my mouth totally useless. Because it didn’t want to be talking. It wanted to be kissing.

I’d never been as attracted to any girl as I was to Mattie in that moment.

I stood there like an idiot, mouth gaping. I tried again to say something, and again nothing came out.

She had a boyfriend. I had a girlfriend. Who was her sister. This was wrong on every level.

Still I stayed put, like a mammoth falling into the La Brea Tar Pits, not able to resist, sinking deeper and deeper, accepting my fate while still ogling her like some creepy perv.

Finally I regained control of my mouth, and instead of betraying my wildly inappropriate thoughts I said the only thing that seemed safe. “Nice, uh, singing.”

I had to get out of there and never, ever come back. What was wrong with me? I shook my head at my own behavior and let out a deep breath as I forced myself to turn around and walk away from her, each step more difficult than the last.

The worst part? When I got to Ella’s room and sank down on her bed I realized that I hadn’t been alone in that situation. That I hadn’t imagined the look in Mattie’s eyes, her short shallow breaths. She’d wanted me as much as I’d wanted her.

Despite my doing the right thing and making the right choice, the image of her in that robe was still the first thing I thought of whenever I saw her. Which kind of reinforced the whole “creepy perv” thing. Now, in addition to being mad at my dad, I was mad at myself for my inability to stop thinking about Mattie that way.

I turned my back to her, entering my ID and password. I felt Mattie’s gaze on me. After that hallway meetup, I’d realized that Mattie spent a lot of time looking at me. She would always quickly look away if I tried to meet her eyes, but there was no question. Even though she had that Dothraki clown as her boyfriend, and I was dating Ella, I knew that look. I knew Mattie liked me, even if she didn’t know it herself.

I just had to ignore it. Even after I broke up with Ella, I couldn’t date her sister. Not only because it seemed weird, but also, I reminded myself, because I wanted to keep Scott and Mercedes away from Mattie. I’d witnessed the way they treated her. Like today at lunch. And it didn’t matter what I said, they never let up. Bringing Mattie into my social circle seemed like it would be a terrible thing to do to her.

One of the art teachers sat at the front of the room. It took me a second to remember her name. “Hi, Mrs. Putnam.”

“Hello, Jake.”

I glanced at the clock above the chalkboard. I was supposed to be at football practice in ten minutes. Coach Wong was already pissed off at me for last week’s game, where I’d thrown two interceptions and fumbled the ball. He wouldn’t care that I’d had detention, only that I was late. He’d have me running ladders for the rest of practice, which was among my least favorite things to do.

Talking to my dad was currently number one on that list.

Getting out of this room was a necessity for my sanity. Realizing that Mattie might be important for my plan, I decided to take advantage of whatever it was she felt for me to get her on my side. I sat in the desk right in front of her, and I heard her sharp intake of breath when I did it.

Game on.

She’d been doodling on some paper when I walked in, and her pencil had gone still. I took out my phone and texted Scott, telling him I was on my way to practice and to cover for me if Coach asked where I was. I half expected Mrs. Putnam to tell me to put the phone away, but she didn’t.

When I glanced up at the teacher I realized that she kept looking at the clock, drumming her fingers against the desk. Like she was restless and had someplace else to be.

A feeling I understood all too well. “Mrs. Putnam, if you need to go, I think Mattie and I are responsible enough to watch ourselves.”

Somehow this made Mattie go even stiller. She didn’t even seem to be breathing. And when she spoke, it had this breathy, hot quality to it that made me glad I was already sitting down. “The art studio is right down the hall. You could come back and check on us, and we would just log out when our hour is up. We promise to be quiet and stay put.”

I tried hard not to smile. Mattie had played right into my hands.

And I’d barely had to make any effort at all.

“I shouldn’t,” Mrs. Putnam protested. She shouldn’t, but she would.

“We’ll be fine,” I said, giving her my best “I’m completely trustworthy” smile.

She barely even resisted. Just like Mercedes last year on prom night (according to Scott). “I will be in my studio if you need anything, and I will come back to check on you.”

When she got to the door she reminded us that she’d be right down the hall.

One obstacle down, one more to go.

I waited a minute to make sure she was truly gone and then turned around to face Mattie. I saw her shrink back in her chair, trying to move away from me.

Not because she didn’t like me, but because she did, and I made her nervous.

I laid my arm across her desk, next to her hand. Her fingers twitched, and I again had to hide a smile. Too easy.

“So Aprils sent you to detention?” I had enjoyed their exchange in class that morning, probably more than I should have.

Mattie nodded slightly, a look of panic on her face. “Yeah.”

To put her at ease I gave her a smile that had melted many a panty. “You shouldn’t have attacked Twain.”

“I know.” She gulped, her cheeks turning a pink that almost matched her hair. And somehow made her more attractive. Which made my own internal temperature rise a notch or two, and I willed myself to relax.

“Why are you here?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.

For one panicked second, I thought she was onto my scheme. Then I realized she meant in this room. I’d never been in trouble at school before. “You mean here on the planet or here in detention?” I teased, intending to win her over with my charm.

When she said she meant detention, I explained about the backpack/fire alarm situation.

“That was you?”

“Yeah.”

“Ms. Rathbone must have been in a mood to send you to detention for an accident.” I caught a glimpse of guilt in her eyes and wondered what that was about.

I shrugged, my chest constricting tightly as I remembered Lecture Number 4 from my father earlier. “Yeah, they ended up calling my dad.” I hadn’t meant to say it. I didn’t want to share things with Mattie. Nobody else knew how hard my dad made my life. What he expected from me.

And how those expectations were slowly crushing me.

I wondered what time it was. I needed to get going, but I didn’t dare look at my phone or a clock. I focused all my attention on her.

“On the bright side, you got me out of social studies. So on behalf of myself and my class, I thank you.”

Laughter unexpectedly burst out of me. It had been so long since I had paid attention to Mattie that I had forgotten she was funny. Snarky. And wicked smart.

Not wanting to stay on the Path of Reasons to Be Attracted to Mattie, I sprang the second part of my plan into action since she had just walked into it. “So what you’re saying is that you sort of owe me.”

“Owe you?” she echoed, looking a little concerned.

I told her I had stuff to do and needed to head out. I asked her to cover for me and then wrote down my ID and password info on a piece of paper. I asked her to log me out of the system when the hour was up.

What I expected: for her to do what I asked.

What I got: a she-demon ready to claw my eyes out.

I was in the middle of thanking her for the expected cooperation when she cut me off.

“No. I won’t lie for you.”

That made me stop cold and stare at her. “What?”

Mattie didn’t respond. She held out the paper I’d given her, her hand trembling.

“Are you serious?” Other than my father, nobody in my life ever told me no. The earlier anger I’d felt from my phone conversation with my dad roared back to life inside me, and I wanted to yell and throw desks. But that wouldn’t help my situation, and I was running out of time to get to practice. I wouldn’t get my way if I showed her how mad her refusal made me. I switched back to the charm offensive. “You’re my girlfriend’s sister. Isn’t it like the law or something that you have to cover for me?”

Although I didn’t know why, I immediately realized that I’d said the absolute wrong thing. Mattie’s expression changed from determined but scared to completely pissed off. She dropped the paper on the desk, and it slipped from there onto the floor.

My anger rose up to meet hers. “What’s your problem, Matilda?” I knew she hated her name. And in that moment I wanted to hurt her.

For reasons I didn’t quite understand.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped back, getting up from her desk. “You’ve barely spoken two words to me since we were nine, and suddenly I’m supposed to lie for you?”

Red rage filled all my senses, making me into someone I didn’t recognize. I laughed, coldly. “What, are you like keeping track or something?”

She denied it, even though she looked like I’d guessed her deepest, darkest secret. Then her features rearranged themselves into a cool, detached expression, as if there was nothing I could say that would upset her.

Which made me even more determined to do just that.

The next few seconds were a blur—we argued about Trent and Mercedes and Scott, and I was so livid I wasn’t even registering what either one of us was saying. I needed to cool off. I needed space. So I said, “Whatever,” and walked off, thinking of what a perfect little Goody Two-Shoes she was.

“You know, you signed the same honor code that I did.”

Was she serious? I was trying to end this fight, and she was prolonging it by bringing up something completely and totally stupid and irrelevant. “The honor code? Really?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You suddenly have some hidden allegiance to this school? Got some secret school pride I don’t know about? You just drift through here without belonging or caring.”

Unlike me. I had to belong. I had to care. About everything. Or else I would wreck all my father’s carefully laid plans for me.

“Whatever,” she retorted. “Why don’t you just go back to ignoring my existence? You never noticed me before, and you don’t have any reason to acknowledge me now.”

Was she really this dense? Did she really think I hadn’t noticed her? That I was such a stuck-up jerk that I thought she was beneath me or something?

Did she not know that I wanted to end this fight in a particularly primal and satisfying way?

I walked toward her, invading her personal space. I struggled with myself, jaw clenching, throat tight. I wanted to kiss her. Wanted it even more than when I’d seen her in that robe.

And I hadn’t known that kind of want was even possible.

How could I find someone so infuriating and so sexy at the same time?

“Oh, please.” Forming words was not easy, but I had to shut this down before it blazed out of control. “You so obviously want to be noticed. If you didn’t, you’d be like every other girl in this school and blend in. You do your hair like that and dress the way you do because you want to stand out. You are dying for me to notice you.”

And I was dying to kiss her, to hold her close, to let my anger turn to desire. I stood there, still fighting all my contradictory feelings. I couldn’t even break eye contact. I wanted her to see. To see what she did to me.

To see that I knew she felt the same.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she caught her lower lip in her teeth as if I overwhelmed her. It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to grab that same lip with my own mouth.

Again I forced myself to walk away. I got as far away from her as possible and texted Scott, letting him know I wouldn’t be making practice on time.

I was actually looking forward to the running Coach would make me do. I needed a way to get rid of this excess physical energy she’d created.

* * *

Running ladder sprints did not help. Neither did the cold shower after. Mostly because of my guilt over what I had done.

My mother had raised me to respect women. I had never spoken to any other girl the way I’d talked to Mattie earlier. Ever.

I couldn’t believe what I had said. How mean I had been. It made me feel sick.

Mostly I wanted to apologize and for her to forgive me.

When I went out to the parking lot, I considered going over to her house. But Ella would most likely be there too, and that wasn’t a conversation I was particularly ready to have.

My beauty, my Porsche 718 Boxster convertible (in carmine red, three hundred horsepower, zero to sixty in 4.9 seconds), didn’t lift my spirits the way it normally did. Instead I acknowledged what it really was—a bribe. My father had bought it for me in another attempt to have the final say over my life choices. He told me when he brought it home that he’d done it to “give me a glimpse” into my future. The kinds of things I could buy if I followed exactly in his footsteps.

It was my dream car, and he knew it. I couldn’t refuse it.

But it was one more way for him to keep me in line.

I drove home a little more recklessly than I normally would, almost wanting to get into a crash so that he’d deem me too irresponsible to keep it.

In the end, sanity and my love for my precious automobile prevented that from happening.

I had just put down my duffel bag in my bedroom when my phone rang. My heart actually thumped hard, because I was hoping it was Mattie.

Which was ridiculous.

It was Scott. “Hey, we’re rocking it at da club. You wanna join?”

I should have said no. I had a mountain of homework. School in the morning. Apologies to make. But I wanted to just forget everything and have some fun. “Let me call Ella. I’ll let you know.”

She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Um, hey. I’m glad you called. I need to talk to you.” She sounded nervous. I wondered what Mattie had told her and if I was about to get yelled at. Again. I flopped down on my bed, closing my eyes.

“What about, Ella?” Even I recognized that wasn’t exactly how a boyfriend should talk to his girlfriend. Shouldn’t I be excited to talk to her? Even if I had screwed up royally with her sister?

I briefly considered asking her to put Mattie on the phone so that I could say sorry, but I was too tired to deal.

“About breaking up with you.”

That made me sit straight up in my bed. I had wanted the same thing, but felt my pride bruise because she’d said it first. And it surprised me. This didn’t seem like Ella. Not that I could claim I’d known her well. “Seriously? Why? Because of Mattie?”

There was a long pause, and I wondered what she was thinking. I never knew how Ella felt about things. What she wanted. I didn’t see it in her eyes the way I did with Mattie.

“Not how you’re thinking. Although you obviously owe her an apology. It’s because this has been a long time coming. We both knew this would happen. It seems like a waste of energy and time to act like we’re still together when we’re not.”

She was right. Injured pride or not, she was right. I should be grateful. I’d been worried about hurting her feelings, and here she was, taking care of the situation for both of us. She’d never struck me as a very confrontational person, not like her sister. But when it came to protecting Mattie, Ella would say and do anything she had to.

Which I, unfortunately, related to all too well.

“I know people say this all the time and they don’t mean it, but I really do want to be friends with you, Jake. That’s how we started out, and that’s probably what we always should have been.”

“Probably,” I agreed. I rubbed my jaw, the stubble rough against my fingertips. “Was there someone else?”

“What?” Ella sounded insulted. “Of course not. I would never cheat on you. Just like I know you would never cheat on me.”

I hadn’t. But I didn’t need to tell her how close I’d come to that line.

With her freaking sister.

My head started to pound, and I cradled it with my free hand.

“Bill’s calling me for dinner. I need to go. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” I heard her say, “Coming!” and then she hung up on me, not bothering to wait for my response.

I should have been upset or sad or something about the world’s least emotional breakup ever. No drama, no accusations, no using nail polish to write nasty things on my locker. All of which I was grateful for, but I wasn’t sure how I should be feeling. I’d never been broken up with before. I seemed to be having a lot of new experiences lately thanks to the women in the Lowe family.

Instead of dwelling on it I texted Scott, asking where he wanted to meet up. He said they were at Nine, a club where the bouncer earned a monthly fee to let Malibu Prep kids in without question.

When I arrived I tossed the valet my keys, and Rocky nodded me inside. It wasn’t hard to find my friends—they were already partying in a corner, completely drunk, loud, and obnoxious.

Scott stumbled over. “Kingston!” He draped one arm around my shoulders. “Where’s your girl?” His words slurred together.

“Not my girl anymore,” I said, pushing his arm away. The alcohol emanated off him in waves. I almost got a contact high just from standing that close to him.

“Dude, you broke up?” He said it loud enough that the entire group turned to look at me. Especially Mercedes. That predatory look in her eyes made my skin crawl.

“Single and ready to mingle,” I told him, gently pushing him back toward his girlfriend. I had considered getting sloshed, but as I watched my friends braying and throwing up into ice buckets, I decided against it. I usually didn’t drink, especially during football season. I’d thought today might have warranted an exception, but I wanted to stay in control of myself.

Which turned out to be a good plan, as Mercedes sat next to me and kept putting her hand on my leg. That girl was not only relentless, but was like one of those Indian goddesses and somehow seemed to have eight arms. I needed to keep my wits about me.

Scott leaned across her, oblivious to her come-ons. “I think you should make up with Ella. Get back together.”

“Give it a rest, dude. That dead horse is tired of being beaten.”

A waitress in a low-cut shirt stopped by for my order, and over Scott’s protests, I asked for a bottle of water. With a wink she promised to be right back. She was cute, but had to be in her twenties. The thought that she might potentially be interesting dissipated when I spotted someone on the dance floor with bright-pink hair. It made my heart beat weirdly again. I threw Mercedes’s hand off me for the millionth time and leaned forward. Mattie? Here?

Then the girl turned. Not Mattie.

My stomach clenched. The disappointment I felt surprised me.

Someone shrieked as she fell backward off the couch we were sitting on. Simone. Everybody else broke out into hysterical laughter as Simone staggered back to her feet, holding her hands up in triumph for being able to stand. It wasn’t funny. Or entertaining.

As I looked around at my stupid friends doing stupid things I wondered why I was putting their wants above my own.

Above Mattie.

If I were being honest with myself, Mattie was the one who made my heart race. Why did I put her second to these people? Because that was the reality. I kept telling myself it was to protect her, but that wasn’t true. Some part of me was embarrassed that I liked her and did care what the Scotts and Simones of the school thought.

The irony of that finally occurred to me. Here I was, furious with my father for trying to control my life, and I was letting possibly the dumbest people I’d ever met do just that. I let them tell me whom I should and shouldn’t date.

No more.

I liked Mattie. I liked liked her. I had for a very long time, even if I’d done my best to suppress it.

“I’m going home,” I said to Scott, putting Mercedes’s wandering hand on his knee.

“What? Why are you leaving?” he demanded. Several of the other girls started to chorus their disappointment, but I ignored them.

“Because I finally figured out what really matters,” I told him, throwing some cash on the table. Once I got outside the club, I tipped the valet handsomely for bringing my baby back to me without a scratch.

I revved up the engine and headed toward the freeway. Strangely enough, I felt this sense of calm. Of peace. Like even though other parts of my life were wildly out of control, this one thing was right. And instead of that being another thing I had to worry about, it felt as if one of those crushing weights on top of me had been lifted.

I’d make it up to Mattie.

And then I’d figure out a way to make her my girl.