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“Just what a girl wants.”

When we arrive, the park is vibrant, alive with the sounds of laughter and the distant barking of dogs. I settle under our favorite oak tree, my sketchbook in hand, while Callum jogs toward the open field with a soccer ball.

From my vantage point, I watch him move with fluid grace, his body a study in motion. He’s always had this natural talent, a way with the ball that’s almost mesmerizing. I find myself smiling, my pencil moving across the paper, sketching as he dribbles.

“Think fast, Li!” Callum’s voice breaks through my concentration.

I look up just in time to see the ball heading straight for me. It bounces off my shoulder with a small thud, and I wince, more surprised than hurt.

“Shit, sorry!” Callum jogs over, concern etched on his face. He kneels beside me, his hands gently examining my shoulder. “You okay?”

Rubbing the bruise that’s bound to form on my shoulder, I can’t help but smile at his worried expression. “I’ll survive, but my artistic genius might have suffered a setback.”

He frowns, kneeling beside me, his fingers lightly brushing over the spot where the ball hit. “Let me kiss it better,” he says, leaning in to plant a soft peck on my shoulder, then another on my cheek, and another on my forehead. “Just making sure every last part of you is okay.”

I giggle, pushing him away. “Your thoroughness is appreciated, but I’m good.”

He settles in beside me, pulling out a pocketknife and carefully flipping it open. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he starts carving into the bark. “We should officially put our mark here, don’t you think? Feels like this park belongs to us.”

My lips curve into a smile as he etches our initials. They’re encased in a tiny, jagged heart, L + C, right there at the base of the tree. “You know, I did something like this once. In our old tree house. Carved your name into the wood at the bottom.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Embarrassing, huh?”

“Not at all,” he says sincerely. “Is it still there? We should go check it out.”

A pang of sadness hits me. “It’s gone, Cal. Dad took the tree house down after freshman year of college. The hurricanes over the years . . . it just wasn’t safe anymore.”

He frowns, glancing back at his handiwork. “Well, I sure hope this one lasts.”

“You know, even if the tree falls,” I say, reaching for his hand, “we can always carve our initials somewhere new.”

“Yeah, I like that. A fresh start, just like now.”

He pockets the knife again, leaning against the tree as I curl up beside him, sketchbook sprawled out beside us.

“Hey, Cal?”

“Mhm.”

“Should we go knock on Mrs. Walsh’s door? See if she’s still mad about the rosebushes?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Maybe you could ask what her son’s been up to these days.”

“No, that’s okay.” I wave him off, playing with the hem of my T-shirt. “I already followed him on Instagram when you brought him up the other day.”

His jaw drops, and I nudge him in the side, snorting at his misplaced outrage. “Ah, you’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Come on, Cal. You know, even then, it was never gonna be Derek for me.”

“Oh, I don’t know, two little dorks like you. Guy probably still carries that Charizard card around in his fucking pocket.”

“We’re back to this, are we? You gonna pull on my pigtails next, push me down on the playground?”

“I don’t know. You gonna braid your hair for me?”

“You always did like my pigtails.” He snorts, giving me a sideways look. “What, didn’t you?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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