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“You think the propaganda isn’t Goody’s alone?”
“Mitchell’s motivated—he has a legacy to uphold. Every Mitchell who’s held that office has brought something to this town except for him. So I suspect he thinks this is his mark to make. And we all know Mitchell gets what he wants. Right now, that’s Goody’s, and he’s got the cash to bankroll a campaign on top of whatever Goody’s is throwing in on it. But so do I. I have a buddy from UT who might be able to help put a study together on the fly.”
“This town is lucky to have you, Bas. We all are.”
I shot her a smile. “Why, because of my UT buddy?”
She bumped me as we walked. “Because when something you love is challenged, you act. You do. And you put your whole heart behind it. I don’t think you know how rare that is.”
“Wanna know the truth?”
One of her brows rose.
“It’s not altruistic so much as it’s an avenue to act on the impulse to knock somebody out.”
She laughed. “I mean, whatever gets it done.” She fell silent again. “Do you think it’ll be settled before you leave?”
“I don’t know,” I hedged, not wanting to mention I didn’t really want to leave.
I didn’t want her to tell me to go again either.
“This is going to set us back, though I don’t know by how much,” I said. “But we’ve got plenty of tricks up our sleeves. It’s not even close to over.”
“I just don’t know if we can do this without you.”
I stopped. “Pres, I can’t figure out if you want me to stay or go.”
Her head cocked in confusion. “I want you to be happy.”
“Then how come you think you know what will make me happy?”
“I … I don’t.”
“You do. How many times have you told me staying would be a mistake?”
She shook her head at the pavement. “You’ll regret it.”
“You don’t know that any better than you know if I’ll be happy on the other side of the planet. You don’t know. Neither do I.”
“Do you really want to stay?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to stay?”
A war waged behind her eyes. “I don’t know.”
There it was. Those three little words sliced me open. But I tried to smile. Pulled her into my chest. Closed my eyes. Did what I always did.
Avoided what hurt so I wouldn’t shatter the illusion. So I wouldn’t lose the happiness I’d found by digging up ugly truths that neither of us wanted to face.
“Let’s talk about this later.” Or never. “One thing at a time.”
She nodded.
When we parted ways, I took her hand. “Now come on. We’ve got a town to save.”
16
Blowin' In The Wind
PRESLEY
God, did we need a day like today.
The sun beat down on the river, and the happy sounds of tipsy townies and country music filled the air over the steady hum of rushing water. I lay in a hot pink tube, the top of me roasting and my ass freezing in the icy spring water. My tube was tied to a cluster of others, the knot anchored to stakes on the riverbank. Above me was the rock face I’d spent so much time sunning on over the years, and across the river hung the rope swing and the beach where a couple dozen towels were laid out and occupied.
It’d been Jo’s idea—a reward for spending the week hustling to organize our defense against Mitchell—and within three hours, every adult between twenty-one and thirty-five had made plans to be here. Mitchell held a town hall yesterday, chock full of misinformation and bullshit, including handing the mic to several Goody’s spokespeople touting all kinds of propaganda. I’d been surprised Sebastian didn’t spontaneously combust in the folding chair where he sat, smoldering in rage. He’d asked questions with impressive composure, considering.
That alone would have warranted a day designated for nothing but fun.
Sebastian’s buddy had come through—the public administration consulting firm put together a new study on a rush, and the evidence was damning. Evan had gotten ahold of the mayor of Kneller, and next week we’d make another push with our new weapons in hand. Next weekend was for protesting.
Without meaning to, Sebastian had become our fearless leader, and he didn’t shy away from the title. In fact, he seemed to be right at home helping organize the campaign and rallying the town for the cause.
Though it wasn’t giving aid to rural African towns, he was making a difference here at home. I wondered if it meant as much to him but decided it couldn’t. Even if he was helping the people and place he loved.
Poppy kicked water at me from her tube, and I squeaked.
“Asshole.” I splashed her back, which didn’t stop her giggling.
Daisy drew a deep breath through her nose as she woke up. “Mmm. Hand me a beer.”
