“Yeah,” I say. My voice comes out rough. “I’m sure.”
Mom nods once. Then she reaches up and smooths the collar of my shirt as if I’m fifteen and headed to a dance. “Alright. Then go do it before you lose your nerve.”
“I’m not losing my nerve.”
Mom gives me a look. “You’re already losing it.”
Fair.
Lila slips her hand into mine, small fingers warm and determined.
“Come on,” she whispers. “Before Uncle Boone ruins it by accident.”
We walk toward the tables, and the closer we get to Faith, the more my heart starts doing that stupid thing where it tries toclimb out of my ribs. It’s tired of being inside me and wants to go stand next to her, too.
Faith turns fully when she sees us coming, her smile widening.
“Hey,” she says, eyes flicking to Lila. “What’s up, partner?”
Lila beams. “Nothing. Just… come here.”
Faith laughs, confused. “Okay?”
She steps toward us, and the whole yard leans in. Because small towns are that way. They smell a moment before it happens. They live for it. They pretend they don’t, but they do.
Nash, the traitor, clears his throat loudly and says, “Attention!”
Boone whips his head around. “I swear?—”
Nash holds up both hands. “It’s not about brisket.”
Boone narrows his eyes. “It better not be.”
People start turning, conversations fading into curious quiet. Someone actually shushes a kid. Which is how you know it’s serious.
Faith looks around, confused, and then back to me.
“Dallas,” she says slowly. “Why is everyone…”
Lila squeezes my hand.
And I take a breath.
Then another.
And then I do the thing I never thought I’d do again after Belinda.
I drop to one knee in the dirt.
The collective gasp is loud enough to scare a bird out of the cottonwood.
Faith freezes completely.
Her hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes go wide.
“Oh,” she breathes.
“Yeah,” I say, because I’m eloquent.
