“Alyson, come on, let’s go!” I stood by the open front door, tapping my foot and spinning my key ring. “Alyson!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She grabbed the toaster pastry I’d put on the counter earlier and crammed half of it into her mouth. Lovely.

“Do you have the money for your cap and gown and class ring?”

“Yes, Mom.” She stuck her tongue out at me. Little brat.

“What about your request for final transcripts to be sent to USC and the last essay for the Samuels Scholarship?”

“Already sent.” She shoved her arm through her backpack strap and hustled out past me.

“Good.” I slammed the door closed to make sure it latched. Another thing for the repair list—it bounced open all the time. I didn’t feel like chasing raccoons out when I got home from work.

The cool spring air was quickly giving way to the humid, oppressive June heat. I’d have to check the electric bill to make sure we could turn on the AC soon.

“I’m going to be late because you’re too busy staying up all night playing video games.” I climbed into the car. Aly threw her bag down and hopped in.

“They help with eye-hand coordination. I’m sure it’s a skill that will come in handy next year.”

I rolled my eyes and pulled out of the driveway.

“Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know. I think he had to go into work early, maybe getting ready for graduation stuff. You know how busy he is during this time of year.” I prayed that was where he was. At least now, with Alyson graduating, the smokescreen I’d managed to create around him, his impulse control issues, and the disasters they brought upon us could take a break—and so could I.

She shoved an earbud into her ear and jammed out to her music as we sat in morning rush hour traffic. At least it was a quick on and off the parkway to get into Center City. The tree-lined streets whipped by as we got closer to the affluent neighborhood tucked into the corner of the city.

“I can’t believe you’re graduating.” I squeezed her hand, and she put hers on top of mine.

“I never could have done it without you, Av.” Her smile was the kind only a kid with the world in the palm of their hand could give you.

“Yeah, I know!” I laughed and pulled up to the curb outside Rittenhouse Prep, whose pristine brick buildings housed some of the best and brightest in the state. The perfectly manicured shrubs lined the sidewalk like a barrier between the rest of the world and the cocoon of privilege behind those walls.

“You’re not supposed to say, ‘Yeah, I know!’ You’re supposed to say, ‘Of course you could have done it without me, Aly. You’re that amazing and driven, and I know nothing could have stopped you.’”

“I don’t have to say it because you already know it’s true.” I tugged her over the console and wrapped my arms around her.

The drop-off line was filled with luxury cars that nearly blinded me with their spotlessly shiny paint jobs. My old clunker, Percy, was on his last legs, but he got us where we needed to go. My baby blue Corolla was creeping up on 200,000 miles and still going strong. If by strong, you meant dragging around town like a geriatric sloth. Driving him to Rittehhouse Prep always brought back the memories so fast and furious I felt like I got whiplash. I squeezed Alyson tighter against me and planted a kiss on her cheek. She let out a sound of disgust, which made me give her another smooch.

Alyson squirmed out of my hold and climbed out of the car, wiping my kisses off her cheek. I stared after her as she waved to me before joining in with the rest of the kids being dropped off. She had a real shot. With her grades, she was a lock for that scholarship, and all the money I’d saved for the past four years could go to me finally taking the leap and enrolling in college.

For a few short years, I’d rubbed elbows with people with trust funds bigger than the GDP of some small countries. I’d even had a short time where I’d mistakenly thought I could be one of them. It had been the dream of a deprived girl looking for a knight when the real world got way too difficult.

Someone honked at me. I apologized with a wave and pulled out into traffic. While most of the people I’d graduated high school with were finishing up their bachelor’s degrees in a few weeks, I’d finally cobbled together enough credits for my associate’s, which I could eventually transfer to a university to get my bachelor’s. Better late than never—isn’t that what they always say?

Unlike Alyson, I hadn’t had the smarts to get into one of the top colleges in the country. I’d also been working nights and early mornings during high school to keep us both fed and make sure the lights stayed on.

In a matter of weeks, she’d be off living her own life, going to college with all her classmates and doing exactly what normal kids did. My sleep deprivation, long nights suffering with an empty stomach, and keeping up every appearance that we were a normal family had paid off.

I’d made sure she hadn’t even had to work an afterschool job or miss a class trip, dance, or any other event or project at the school. Hell, I’d even made sure she got to do Girl Scouts. While she didn’t have designer bags or anything like that, I’d worked my ass off to ensure she never felt like she was less than anyone else.

My neck had felt like it was under a heating lamp that first time I’d stepped into the Rittenhouse Prep halls. It was my sophomore year and the first time they’d extended the tuition waiver to all staff, including non-teachers and administrators.

With Dad working in maintenance, it was my chance to attend one of the most sought-after schools in the city. I hadn’t cared that my uniforms were claimed from the charity donation done at the end of the previous school year, or that my backpack was a generic black one instead of something fancy with a designer label. All I cared about was that I’d get to go to one of the top schools in the region. I’d walked those halls since I was eight when I visited my dad after hours. I had pretended I went there, had looked into the trophy cabinets and seen my decidedly non-Rittenhouse reflection looking back.

I duck my head when I step through the gleaming solid oak doors on the first day. The first snickers and snide remarks come from some of the kids as my shoes squeak on the tile floors. My stomach knots and I grip my backpack straps tighter.

This is what I wanted, right? Going here has been my dream, only it doesn’t feel like much of a dream right now. I scan the hallway, looking for my newly assigned locker. Other students mill about, darting glances at me, the new girl.

Turning the combination lock, I tug on the latch, but it won’t budge. I spin the dial around a few more times and try it again. Please just open. My cheeks are hot, my fingers sweaty.

Yanking on it so hard my backpack falls off my shoulder, I stumble back when my hands slip off the metal. The scarlet flush of my skin travels up my neck as more heads turn to stare at me.

“Do you need some help?”

I jump at the deep voice that sends a shiver down my spine.

I peer over my shoulder, ready for the punch line, but it never comes. All the noise and all the stares—everything dissolves around him. He holds on to one backpack strap, his hand dwarfing the material as it rests against his broad shoulder. Even in his uniform, I can see the hard muscled chest underneath. He doesn’t look like a student. Nothing about him screams sophomore. Maybe he’s a senior? He looks like a college kid, or a walking wet dream come to life.

The tilt of his head clues me in to the fact that I’m standing here staring, lips parted at this dark-haired, dimpled stranger. I nod dumbly because I don’t trust my voice to be more than a squeak.

He reaches his arms around me, caging me between him and the cold metal of the locker. My heart thuds against my ribs and a tingle travels much lower. I’m keenly aware of where his skin touches mine, of the spot on my shoulder where the rolled-up sleeves of his uniform expose the tanned skin on his forearms. I could duck under his arms while he works on the lock, but I don’t want to. I like being encircled by him, shielded, protected. He’s a barrier between me and everything else—everyone else—in the hallway.

Without thinking, I breathe him in. Sniffing at him like I’m trying to inhale one of those smelly markers from elementary school, I close my eyes. He smells like leather and mint. A small rumble travels through his chest.

He stares down at me with a smile that makes me glad he’s here to catch me in case my knees give out. I know dimples are cute, but I never knew they were hot—so hot you need an ice cube to run down along the hard…nope. I turn and snap my eyes back to the navy lockers in front of us. His fingers move deftly as he re-does the combination, bangs on the corner, and pops the door open.

I can’t keep my eyes off his arms. His long and muscled forearms really don’t look like they match a high school guy. Is he a young, hot, just-out-of-school teacher? Have I embarrassed myself in front of a teacher?

“I had this one last year and it was a real pain in the ass.” He shifts his backpack strap on his shoulder and holds out his hand. No, teachers don’t have lockers, and they don’t use backpacks. “I’m Emmett.”

I turn and slide my palm against his. The thumping in my chest gets harder the second his hand envelops mine, and I feel short. I’m taller than most girls my age, but around Emmett I feel petite. Our hands pump up and down a few times and he lifts an eyebrow. What was I saying again? Oh yeah, my name!

“I’m Avery.” I let go of his hand and spin around. Opening the locker door all the way, I stash some of my things inside. Clamping my lips tight together, I try to wipe the smile off my face. Once he finds out who I am, his friendliness will slip away.

“You’re new?”

“Today’s my first day. My dad works in maintenance and I’m here on a scholarship.” I square my shoulders, ready for the laughter. Ripping this bandage off is the only way to do it. I’m not going to pretend I’m someone I’m not. Better to find out now if he’s a jerk.

“Awesome. Where’s your first class?”

And that had been it. Emmett had breezed over it like it was nothing—and it had been nothing to him. It wasn’t until later, once I couldn’t imagine a day without him, that I realized I had been pretending to be someone I wasn’t, living a life I could never have, so afraid of losing what I’d found with him—a safe haven.

It wasn’t until months later that I found out his family was on the board of directors that had made the decision that allowed me to start attending Rittenhouse Prep. Found out that his family had more money than I could imagine.

Any distance I’d tried to put between us when I found out, when the stares and whispers had gotten loud enough to hear, had been shut down instantly. He hadn’t cared one bit. After that, we’d been inseparable. I’d soaked him up as much as I could during school hours, because after hours, the real world didn’t stop turning.

I’d had to pick up Alyson every day. She’d started at the lower school when I’d started at the high school, which ended earlier in the afternoon. While I’d wait for her, Emmett and I would hang out, going driving in his truck or getting something to eat. Those days my stomach had stopped rumbling because the hunger had set in so deep. I always made sure there was enough for Aly, which meant sometimes there was none for me. No matter how many times I said I wasn’t hungry or I didn’t need anything, he’d get me a treat—Skittles, Kit Kats, a sandwich, a burger. Maybe he liked to see the way I dissected my food. He’d laugh as I picked it apart, but it was one way to make sure I didn’t inhale whatever was in front of me, didn’t shove it in my mouth so fast he’d know something was up.

When Alyson and I would get home, I’d help her with her homework, try to do some of mine, and then it was a dinner of whatever I could pull together and off to bed. Without him, some days I’d have gone to bed with my arms wrapped around my stomach praying for sleep to take me so I couldn’t feel that empty pit anymore.

After all that, I could finally start on my own schoolwork. Classes were accelerated at Rittenhouse, but I hadn’t realized how much until those first few months. I had been holding my own, but only just, and then my dad had gone off the deep end.

The lights got shut off first, then the water. After going to school in Febrezed uniforms for two months, I had to take things into my own hands. I went in search of a job. Instead of doing my homework after Alyson went to bed, I started cleaning. Cleaning corporate offices for a few hours, I’d kept the lights on. Then I’d found an even better job. Bread & Butter Bakery saved my ass. I was there from two a.m. to six a.m., and that job had paid for all the things Alyson and I needed. Turned out not many people were reliable enough to work those kinds of hours, so the pay was pretty good, even under the table for a high school kid.

That said, it had left little time for sleep or much else, except Emmett. I’d made time for him whenever I could.

Parking behind the bakery, I hopped out of the car and rounded the corner. A herd of college kids nearly mowed me down, and I stared after them as a pang of envy reared its ugly head.

They walked down the sidewalk with their backpacks and messenger bags, laughing and joking around. I still couldn’t imagine a life where the only thing I worried about was my next exam or a big paper coming up. My worry list was over a mile long and seemed to grow every day. As much as I wanted to pursue my education, was it going to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back?

The smell of dough, sugar, and chocolate mixed in with coffee hit me from nearly a block away. There was a calm that settled over me the second the shop came into view. It was like caffeine made its way into my veins by osmosis.

Wide glass windows at the front of the bakery showcased the handful of lime green and navy blue tables inside. It was a no-frills bakery that turned out some of the best donuts and pastries in the city. We worked off recipes passed down over two generations with a few tweaks here and there when my boss wasn’t watching.

“Hey, congratulations on getting accepted!” Max shouted the second I walked through the door. Her purple and blue hair was up in a bun in a style way more conservative than her hair color, which changed monthly. She’d been working beside me for the past couple of years while she finished up culinary school, her dream of becoming a pastry chef that much closer. Her talent was insane. Her artwork should be on canvases, instead, she chose baked goods. We were lucky to have her at Bread & Butter.

“Thank you. I still have to figure out if I’ll be able to pay for it all.” I laughed, but it was something that kept me up at night. I couldn’t apply for a loan on my own, even a student loan that wouldn’t cover everything. My dad’s credit was shot, so if Alyson didn’t get the Samuels Scholarship, I’d have to put college off for even longer. Is that even the path I want to go down?

Some days I wanted to say screw it and ask Syd if I could stay on full time, but she didn’t really have the cash flow for that.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Thanks for getting everything ready this morning. How’s Aly?”

“No problem, and she’s good. Ready to be finished and take that next big leap.” I put my hair up and put on my apron. The morning rush had nearly cleared us out of glazed crullers and bear claws. I needed to glaze a whole new rack of donuts and work the dough for some more croissants. Jordan was already banging around in the back, never the stealthiest when he was getting things together after the morning rush.

The lights shut off for a second, blanketing the room in darkness. Light from the front windows created a shaft of light shooting through the small windows in the swinging doors leading to the kitchen.

“Shit.” I wiped my hands off. The lights flickered back on as the generator’s whirring engine kicked in. I’d convinced Syd to get one after a blackout a couple years earlier had spoiled a new shipment of butter and cream.

“Not again.” Max dropped a tray onto the steel counter. The colorful icing and edible paint splattered across her overalls made her look like a mad painter in the flickering lights.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it fixed.” I rushed into the office and sat behind the desk, which was piled high with envelopes with big red letters on them. I grabbed one from the top and called the number.

Logging into the Bread & Butter online banking account I’d forced Syd to set up three years prior, I sent an e-check to the power company to get everything turned back on as quickly as possible. Three hours later, nursing three paper cuts, I’d sorted through everything on the desk and organized it all into folders just like I’d done nine months earlier. Somehow I kept falling into this role, or maybe I went in search of it, taking things on because I never knew if someone else would figure it out. I needed B&B to keep going, not just so I’d have a job while I went to school, but because of how much it meant to Syd, who meant so much to me.

“When does Aly find out about the scholarship?” Max leaned against the doorway.

I powered off the computer and hopped up. “Next week. I’m freaking out about it. She’s so excited. She’s worked so hard. The money plus the prestige would put her on cloud nine.” Sometimes when I was alone in my room staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t hold back my smile. Her future was so bright, and it was better to think about that than get sucked back into the past. Those memories didn’t end with a smile. They ended with a sharp ache so deep I wondered if it would ever heal.

“You too.” Max bumped me with her hip. “You worked as hard as she did to get her there.”

“It’s been a long time coming.” I walked to the front and slid some of the empty trays out of the display, stacking them in my arms.

“Syd loves to tell the story of when you showed up here that first day, looking for a job. Pretty ballsy for fifteen.”

Syd “if you call me Sydney I’ll kill you” Avon was our no-nonsense boss with a heart of gold. Once you cracked through that super-extra-hard-seems-like-you’d-need-a-diamond-to-slice-through-it exterior, she was a total sweetheart…most of the time.

The pit in my stomach when I’d seen the ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the door had been half out of worry and half out of hunger. I’d kept Alyson’s lunches jam-packed, but there wasn’t a lot left over in the fridge or cabinets for my own. I usually picked off Emmett’s tray.

He’d always offered to buy me lunch, but I’d always played it off like I wasn’t that hungry and then had eaten half his burger and nearly all his fries one too many times. He’d started showing up to our table with his tray piled high after that.

“I thought she was going to boot me for sure too, but she said to be there at two a.m. if I was serious. I think I scared the crap out of her when I popped up that first morning she came to unlock the shop.”

I knew I had. She’d yelped and barely missed me with the piping hot cup of coffee she’d winged at my head.

“You scared the crap out of me, kid.” She’d clutched her hand to her chest and then unlocked the shop.

Had it really been six years since I’d started working at B&B? She’d paid me under the table until I was old enough to officially be on payroll, and the rest was history—so much history. I’d be working at the shop during college. Working with my hands, kneading and mixing the ingredients together, had a way of relaxing me. Every push and pull of the sweet or savory dough smoothed out the tension in my shoulders and made me feel like I could create something perfect. Even at the ass crack of dawn, I could come in, wrap an apron around my waist, and feel the fitful sleep of the night before melt away.

Coming into work before the roosters crowed meant I didn’t dream much, and not enough time with my head on the pillow was what kept me going now. The dreams made it hard to breathe. They were so real, so visceral and raw and always about Emmett, even after the years apart. His gentle touch. The burning in his eyes that made my hands itch to touch him. His smell, like clean leather hockey pads and mint. Powerful and clean like freshly laundered clothes.

Those dreams only happened when I finally crashed. When I passed out exhausted in my bed and wasn’t forced to wake up a couple hours later. When I had a whole night to myself—which didn’t happen often—I was visited by the ghosts of my past, by the man I’d loved with all my heart, but who had never truly loved me.

If he’d listened, heard, and trusted me, he would have understood. He would have been mine forever. But he hadn’t, so now I was only left with the dreams of what we’d once been.