“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 yourmind?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.”
