Page 101 of Forbidden to Fall

It was true. Lyle Cowley had been red-dotted as well.

James looked at me, but I said nothing.

“Is it a good red dot or a bad red dot?” he asked.

“What do you think?”

He smiled. “Why a dot rather than a heart?”

“Because I have awful older brothers, one of whom was your best friend.” The reference to Ryan tied an immediate knot in my stomach.

James’s smile flickered too, but he reinforced it. “Smart, especially for a third-grader. But I’ll be honest. I’m feeling a little jealous of Lyle.”

“Lyle was a decoy,” I said. “I hated him, so I figured putting a dot over his picture would confuse anyone who suspected anything.” I elbowed him. “Worked on you.”

Smiling, he kissed my temple.

“I’d forgotten just how early my crush on you started,” I said. “But to you, I was just your best friend’s annoying little sister.”

“No. You weren’t.”

I looked over at him.

“I was always kind of curious about you. Intrigued, I guess. But the thought of Ryan and Wade taking notice was enough to keep me from showing it. If anything, I tried to avoid you because of it.”

I stared at him, hardly believing what he was saying. He had noticed me. Been intrigued, even. I wished I could go back and tell my younger self.

With a little smile, he kissed my head again, then started turning the pages of the yearbook. It was mostly pictures from school events. The two times we came upon a picture with James and Ryan, we pretended like nothing was wrong.

I woke up dazed, my eyes adjusting slowly to my dark living room. I was on my couch, but the blanket from my bed was draped over me. Flickers of last night started to flash in my mind, and I looked around.

James was on the floor next to the couch, asleep. No blanket.

After going through my third-grade yearbook, we’d talked. For ages. For so long that I didn’t even remember falling asleep.

I reached for my phone on the floor next to the couch and tapped the screen.

3:16.

I threw the covers off my body, the time acting like an adrenaline shot. I’d intended to set an alarm for 2:30 to get started on baking. That clearly hadn’t happened.

Gingerly, I climbed off the couch, avoiding any contact with James, then rushed to my room, where I closed the door before turning on the light. I dressed and fixed my hair as best I could. I’d have to come home and shower afterward—assuming I had time. Our booths were supposed to open at nine, and I had a lot of baking to do.

I shut off my light, then opened my bedroom door carefully to avoid any clicks or creaking. I stayed in place for a few seconds, hoping my eyes would adjust to the dark again so that I could get my keys and leave without waking James. I’d text him to let him know where I’d gone.

Walking on the balls of my feet, I made my way toward the kitchen, where I’d left my purse with the keys inside. I grabbed it, wincing as the keys gave a soft jangle, then tiptoed toward the door.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

I jumped at James’s sleepy voice. “Jeez! You scared me. I’ve got to get started baking.”

He raised up on his elbow and scrubbed a hand over the top half of his face. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

“No—just sleep.”

He got up anyway. And I was too willing to have him with me to argue more.

It was cold out, and the pavement was still wet from the rain as we walked to my car. James slipped his hand through mine like that’s where it was meant to be.