“Just in town for work,” I said, staring over her shoulder toward a blue minivan parked in front of the store. The outline of a dark-haired little girl with ear buds hanging from her ears as she glanced down at something into her lap caused my breath to hitch.
“You don’t say.” Rebecca studied my face as if she were recalling the last time she’d seen me and all the empty promises I’d made over the years to come see them. “Mabry’s out in the car. I’m just stopping for a coffee before I drop her off at Sunday school.”
“Oh yeah?” My insides burned as I fought away a flurry of livewire anxiety. I’d always kept Rebecca at arms’ length for a reason.
“How long are you in town? You should come over for dinner some night this week!” Rebecca’s mouth danced half-open in a way that told me she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Sam would love to see you, and…”
I knew what she was going to say, and I didn’t need to hear it. It was the very thing that defined me, and I was well aware.
“Next!” the barista yelled out.
“Do you mind if I go next?” I said to Rebecca. “Kind of in a hurry. I have to be somewhere by eight.”
“Go ahead, darling.” Rebecca shooed me ahead in line and stood back as I placed my order.
I ordered my coffee, slipped a five dollar bill in the tip jar, and moved down the line.
“Coco!” the barista called out. I wasted no time grabbing my hot cup of comfort and slipping my dark glasses back over my eyes.
“Dakota,” Rebecca called as I was seconds away from the door. “Come over any night this week. We’d love to have you. Please.” She clasped a dainty hand across her chest as a polite way of silently begging. “It would mean the world to us. To her.”
“I’ll plan on it,” I said with a genuine nod before sprinting out the door. My heart squeezed into a dull ache at the thought of going over there. Over the years, I’d promised to come see them when the time was right. And then one year turned into three and then three into seven. Ten years later, I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I couldn’t keep watching from the sidelines through emails and photographs. I couldn’t keep saying, “Maybe next year I’ll be ready.”
I pulled in a lungful of clean, Kentucky morning air as my shoes scuffed the sidewalk. Rebecca’s van was parked next to my rental, and I stole another glance into the backseat where Mabry played some game on her iPad. She glanced up at me, her blue eyes matching mine, and flashed a wide smile rounded off by Beau’s dimples.
It was time.
14 years ago
I broke off a piece of cookie dough Pop Tart and shoved it in my mouth, seated in the high school cafeteria next to my best friend and partner in crime, Annelise. A faint September morning chill settled in our bones as we waited for the bell to ring that would allow us to flood the halls and give us just enough time before class to grab our books from our lockers and make first period.
“There he is.” I nudged Annelise and nodded toward the chocolate-haired boy walking in with a pair of tight blue jeans and a pressed, plaid button down. His neatly combed mane was still damp, as if he were still fresh from his morning shower. “I bet he smells like fresh hay and a million bucks.”
“He’s a junior,” Annelise said. “I found out his name. Beaumont Mason. His parents own that big farm outside of town.”
“I wonder if he has a girlfriend?” Not that it would matter anyway. I was an invisible freshman with a penchant for sticking close to my studies. Some may have even called me nerdy. I preferred bookish.
“Probably.”
The morning bell rang three times. I tugged on my shirt, which was a little tight on me since my boobs had decided to double in size over the summer, and stood up to fling my backpack over my shoulders.
“See you at lunch?” Annelise called out, and I nodded in return.
I traipsed down the hallway to the freshman lockers, pulled out my AP-English book, and slammed the orange door shut. Hurrying toward the second floor, I stopped short at a drinking fountain to wash down the Pop Tart crumbs that still stuck to my teeth.
Ice cold water streamed across my lips as I gulped down small metallic sip after sip. Without any sort of warning, someone pummeled into me, smashing my mouth against the rusty metal spout. Warmth spread from my lips, as if they’d been stung, and my teeth radiated with pain.
“Ow!” I yelled out, pulling away. My hand flew to my mouth to make sure my teeth were still all intact. When I pulled my hand away, I saw red. Literally. Blood coated my fingers.
“I’m so sorry,” a boy drawled. A warm, steady hand palmed my shoulder.
I glanced up into a fantastically golden pair of brown eyes that belonged to the boy whose name I’d only learned that morning.
“Jackson, you asshole,” he yelled out toward a group of guys climbing the stairs in the distance. His free hand flew to the back of his neck, massaging it as his dark brows lifted in apology. “My buddy shoved me into you. I’m so sorry.”
I dabbed the back of my hand against my mouth and checked it. The bleeding seemed to have subsided, but only slightly. My cheeks burned hot with crimson embarrassment. The boy I’d been crushing on from afar since the first day of school was standing in front of me for the first time ever, and he was going to forever remember me as the dorky freshman with the bleeding lips.
“You need me to walk you to the nurse?” he offered. “Looks like you got cut there. Maybe we should make sure you don’t need stitches?”