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  “The crazy thought never crossed my mind, sunshine. Wear whatever you want.”

  “K, then I’ll see you in the morning. Am I riding with you?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” And with that, he winks and walks back to his house.

  Despite my clammy, fidgeting hands and perpetual cotton-mouth, dinner is amazing; even better than I expected. Vicenza’s is a new Italian restaurant one town over with candlelight, soft music, and all those other “date restaurant” things. It is the nicest place I’ve ever been to and the food is delicious. I’m always grateful when he gets me to try new things and I can’t help but reminisce.

  Evan’s 11th birthday party was the first time I’d ever ice skated. I only fell on top of him like five times before I got the hang of it, which I counted as a success.

  The first time I jumped off the bluff at Miller’s Landing, it was because Evan had jumped with me, hand in hand. There has never been an encore and we pinky swore not to tell our parents.

  My first tryout for a team my dad didn’t coach, in ninth grade, Evan gave me the pep talk to do so. He’d left a Good Luck card in my locker that day and rode with my dad to pick me up after tryouts.

  He clears his throat to bring me back to the present. One glance at him tells me he has something big to say. “Laney, I’m signing. I’m going to play ball at UGA.” The University of Georgia, our dream.

  I jump out of my chair and round the table to hug him. “Congratulations, Evan! I’m so proud of you!”

  He pulls me into his lap and kisses my forehead. “Thanks, boo! You heard from them yet?” Sweet Evan, his eyes optimistically hopeful, like perhaps I just forgot to tell him, because he just knows they should have called for me. He believes in me completely.

  But I haven’t. As of right now, my options look like Tech or Southern. I don’t understand; my visit in the fall to the Bulldog campus went great. The coach talked as though he’d been watching me for a while and my showcase for him was spot-on. I’d timed his pitchers instantly and hit their change-ups the first time.

  “I haven’t,” I say with as much cover over the sadness as I can muster. I really want to go to school with Evan. I’d tried for UGA first in hopes of doing just that. Everyone had known forever that UGA would want Evan and we’d planned to go together.

  “You will, Laney, I know it.” His confidence makes me want to hold out hope, but deep down I’m a realist.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I agree, smiling at him and moving back to my seat. “Let’s just enjoy our night.”

  The rest of the evening is wonderful, with no more talk of our impending separation. If he’s honest with himself, he knows it’s coming, as do I, but no amount of misery will change it, so instead we carry on in cheerful denial.

  SOCIALISM

  Why is my phone ringing at 8:00 am on a Saturday? I’m the polar opposite of a morning person, which anyone close to me knows, so I ignore it; it’s obviously a wrong number. When it immediately rings again, I pull my head out from under my pillow with a grunt and hotly answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Walker! Whatcha doin’?”

  Has Kaitlyn’s voice ever sounded more annoying? “Not sleeping, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I snarl with no attempt to hide the sarcasm.

  “Well get up, cause Parker’s having a bonfire tonight and we’re going!”

  Big deal.

  Parker Jones has bonfires all the time, none of which I have graced, even though he’s one of my good friends. What’s the point? I can hang out with the best person in this town, Evan, anytime I want, without drunken, obnoxious onlookers. I yawn loudly, already bored. “Not only am I not going, but I’m guessing it doesn’t start at 9:00 am, so why are you calling now?”

  “Laney, when was the last time you went out, like out? I’m gonna need all day to get you party presentable, so get up and I’ll be there at eleven.” Such a girl; good thing she doesn’t bat like one.

  Every bit as stubborn as Kaitlyn, I reiterate that I’m not going and sincerely doubt she will find Mr. Right in a field full of drunken idiots stumbling around a bonfire.

  “It’s our senior year, Laney. You have to make it to one social event before your high school career is over. Besides, it’d be unsafe for me to go by myself.”

  Damn her! This point actually puts a dent in my armor and I inwardly cringe, knowing I’m now committed.

  “Fine, I’ll go to look out for you, but we leave when I say and I’m driving. Plus, don’t even think about showing up here before 6ish. I don’t need time to get ready. Really, neither do you, diva. Not only will it be dark, but everyone there will have on beer goggles.”

  Surely she sees the sense in my reasoning, but she doesn’t comment on it, only squealing as I hang up.

  Having finished that nightmare of a conversation, I slam the phone on my nightstand and attempt to go back to sleep, but Evan struts into my room about fifteen minutes later, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. We really need to review the open door policy…I am a sleeper inner!

  “Morning, beautiful. Sweet dreams?” he asks amorously.

  With my messy bedhead hidden underneath the pillow, I can’t help but peek out to run my covert, lazy gaze over him. Okay, he’s forgiven. He can’t help it if he’s a morning person, ever evidenced by his still damp hair and the fact his baby face is freshly shaven. I can smell his aftershave, a lot like fresh, clean cotton with a hint of musk, from where he leans against my dresser.

  I can’t let him totally off the hook. “Evannnnnn,” I whine, “we are not farmers. Why are you here so early?” I sit up slightly, resting against the headboard and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My comforter falls down and the draft causes goosebumps to rise along my skin, tightening it. It’s not the only thing that tightens and I glance down to my now hard nipples and grimace at the fact that I’m wearing a white sleep tank.

  I look up at Evan, blushing what I can only guess is crimson, and realize he’s noticed my physical aversion to chilly mornings. He immediately diverts his focus and clears his throat.

  “I came to ask if you want to go fishing with me today. It’s beautiful out, and Dad says they’re bitin’ down at Miller’s Landing. You in?”

  He’s still not looking directly at me, but rather taking in the team softball poster on my wall like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, even though I’ve long since pulled the comforter back up under my chin.

  “That actually sounds wonderful,” I start, his mouth immediately turning up and his eyes beginning to twinkle, “but Kaitlyn called me at obscene o’clock and asked me to go to Parker’s shindig tonight.”

  His mouth actually drops open before he can stop it, his eyes bulging. “You’re going to Jones’? You never go to parties!” he says, half-accusatory.

  “I didn’t say I wanted to go, but she’s a good friend and she didn’t want to go alone. She played the ‘safety in numbers’ card,” I explain.

  I see his lil’’ smirk and dimples; he really is captivating. Seconds before he finally makes direct eye contact, he says, “Cards, huh? Well, I call. I’ll pick you girls up here at eight.”

  Smug in what he believes is his clever victory, he turns and leaves my room with a little extra cock to his walk. I’m actually thrilled he’s taking us because I’m always the most secure when Evan’s around, but I dare not burst his bubble.

  What have I gotten myself into now? I’m currently being brushed and plucked, courtesy of Kaitlyn, like a pedigreed poodle about to take Best in Show. After a tortuous hour, she’s finally decided I’m bonfire worthy and releases me from the cloud of sprays, powders, and other girlie majiggies she so loves.

  I have four forms of myself perfected: uniform covered in dirt and sweaty, just woke up with sleep in the corners of my eyes, fished all day ponytail and smelly, and lastly, going to school ready. Tonight, my dark blonde hair hangs just past my shoulders with a slight curl. The neckline on my soft green shirt is a little low and my jeans a l
ittle tight, but Kaitlyn conceded to light makeup so I caved on the outfit. Plus, she let me wear my boots! This Laney needs a second opinion and I know the perfect polling subject and exactly where to find him…to the couch I go!

  “Dad, how do I look?”

  My father does a long, anguished appraisal. “Not much like my slugger, I’d say, but real pretty, honey. Real pretty.”

  Is he still breathing? That whole throbbing vein in forehead thing can’t possibly be good for him.

  “Daddy…don’t worry. I’ll be home before you know it. It’s not really my or Evan’s thing.”

  “Well hell, slugger, why didn’t you tell me Evan was going before I looked at ya? Have fun then,” he says as he turns back to the baseball game on TV, vein in his forehead no longer visible.

  I love how he trusts Evan, but not if it’s more than he trusts me! Oh well, he’s letting me go without a hassle.

  Disaster averted, I head back upstairs where Kaitlyn is finishing up her own final touches and grab my phone to let Evan know it looks like we’re ready.

  Laney: Hey, ready when u r

  Evan: Born ready, just walked in.

  EYE OPENER

  Evan seems off the whole ride to the party. Kaitlyn is chattering from the backseat and I’m chiming in an “uh huh” here and there and the occasional “oh really,” but Evan hasn’t spoken.

  When I came downstairs, I thought I looked pretty tame, maybe even good. Hell, half his groupies wear more suggestive outfits to school, but the look on his face was one I didn’t recognize. Never before tonight did I notice how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. And the tugging on his collar is definitely a new move. He seemed to want to say something, like “who are you?”, but never did, just guiding me to his truck silently. Was it disgust? Disappointment? I never should’ve let Kaitlyn dress me.

  Second guessing myself, it seems to take forever to reach Parker’s. As we pull through the gate, I can see a makeshift hayride up ahead, perfect farm party transportation as many of the vehicles tonight won’t make it out to his back pasture. I’m quite familiar with the Jones’ farm; our families have been friends since before Parker and I were born. In fact, our fathers used to be fishing partners, so we were raised together. I’m quite comfortable with my actual locale, and thank goodness, since Evan’s weird vibe is throwing me off a bit.

  Evan lets us out, but not before he breaks his vow of silence to ask me to wait up for him to park. I stay put and wait while Kaitlyn runs ahead to the hayride, jumping in with the other waiting passengers. I glance ahead of her and do a quick inventory…everyone waiting is pretty cool, with the exception of Madison and Michelle. Ugh.

  Not only are they captain and co-captain of the cheer team at school, they are also the self-nominated President and Vice President of the Evan Allen Fan Club. I lovingly refer to them as “MM.” Not only does it fit their names, but also “Malnourished Morons.” I’ve never told Evan any of their backhanded comments; he seems to see their ugliness fine by himself.

  “Laney Jo? No freakin’ way!”

  Thanks, Parker, for not drawing attention to me.

  He runs over, picking me up around the waist and twirling me in a classic Parker bear hug; he’s not a small boy. “How’s my girl?”

  Starting offensive and defensive lineman, Parker is a gentle giant. He’s also a great ear and amazing friend; I’m feeling better and better about coming tonight.

  “Hey, brother,” I say with a kiss on his cheek. “Thought I’d make an appearance."

  “I am so pumped you’re here! I can’t believe it!”

  Neither can I, Parker. Neither can I.

  “I am sooooo getting you drunk tonight, Laney!” Parker gushes. I secretly know he’s all talk. He’d never put me in harm’s way, nor would he ever allow anyone else to do so, either.

  “Not a chance in hell, Jones. I got her.”

  There’s Evan with that perfect timing again. There was zero chance I was getting drunk tonight, but I’m glad to have the back up. Not to mention, Evan’s now spoken twice!

  “Damn, Evan, lighten up, dude. Laney needs to have some fun,” Parker argues.

  Evan says nothing back, he simply puts his hand at the small of my back and leads me to the wagon. I’m not sure what’s going on with him tonight, but I hope it ends soon. Evan’s very seldom in a bad mood, and I never don’t know why, or how to fix it. I’m so getting to the bottom of this.

  The wagon takes off, and as we get lower and lower in the valley, I get more anxious for the actual bonfire; I always get cold easily. Sitting beside me, Evan takes off his letter jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. Even more than the warmth, I enjoy the manly scent that is signature Evan and flush. Oh my God, did I just inhale out loud? Judging from Evan’s low chuckle, I did. Nice.

  More than Evan’s weird mood, what is going on with me tonight? I’m at a party, I’m dressed like a Kaitlyn-bot, and now I’m audibly sniffing my best friend’s jacket? MM should be handing me a membership application any minute now. I do a count in my head; nope, not premenstrual…

  Not a second too soon, we arrive at the back pasture and the ride stops. Evan unloads ahead of me and he turns, putting his arms out, ready to catch me. He gives me a smile that causes my breath to catch and says, “Come on, let’s live a lil’.”

  So I do what any girl who has a gorgeous, all-American boy waiting with his arms out would do…I jump.

  This party is actually pretty fun and I like almost everyone here. Kaitlyn has obviously nominated herself the non-designated driver. She’s chugging drinks down and flirting with every guy here, including Evan. I’m happy just sitting on my bale by the fire actually giggling a bit at her, when Matt Davis quickly slides in the empty spot Evan left in search of some non-barley based drinks for us.

  “Hey, Laney. To what do we owe the honor?” Matt slurs.

  “You don’t owe me anything, but I’m flattered you consider it an honor,” I retort with a snap in my voice. I’m not oblivious to the fact that Matt has always had a “thing” for me, one I do not reciprocate. I’ve often wondered if he’s the culprit behind the creepy notes, but he’s had an alibi on too many occurrences.

  “You want a drink?”

  “No thanks, Matt. How are you getting home tonight?” He’s not a completely bad guy and I for sure don’t want to see him hurt.

  “I don’t know. Wanna gimme a ride?”

  “I didn’t drive tonight.”

  “That’s okay; you can still give me a ride.”

  Oh, isn’t he clever? His drunken innuendo doesn’t warrant a response and it’s not the right time for Evan to walk up, I assure you. Matt’s legs are dangling in the air before I even register it completely, as he’s lifted by his shirt collar in one of Evan’s huge hands. “You’ve got five seconds to apologize to the lady,” Evan growls.

  “Geez, sorry, Laney, I was just kidding,” Matt musters insincerely.

  I don’t tell him it’s okay, because it’s not, but I do say, “Put him down, Ev. So not worth it.”

  “You sure, Laney? Your call.”

  “Yes, I’m sure, Brutus. Put him down and let’s take a walk?” I don’t have to ask him twice. Matt’s flat on his ass and Evan’s at my side in a flash. Walking away for a little breather, I latch my arm through his. “What’s up with you?” I nudge him.

  He shrugs. What’s this? Evan never broods. He’s my rock, my Mr. Grain of Salt.

  “Evan, it was no big deal. Just a drunk comment by a boy scorned. Why are you stressing over it?”

  “I can’t stand the way he talks to you. Not to mention, he’s always staring at you and talking about you; he’s obsessed. I don’t like it one damn bit. I’m on to him. If I find out he’s the one stalking you…” He runs his hand through his hair and blows out a breath. “I’ll kill him.”

  The silence seems to go on forever, but Evan needs a minute to calm down and I don’t dare chance saying the wrong thing right now.

  “And th
e first guy brave enough to hit on you, and that’s how he goes about it?”

  “What does that mean? Brave enough to hit on me?”

  “You really have no idea, do you?”

  I just stare at him, my expression reminiscent of my “trying to solve quadratic equations” face.

  He sighs and casts his eyes down. “Laney, you’re that girl. The one guys make up in their head when they put all the best parts together to make one perfect girl. The man who gets you to actually pay attention, well, he’ll be the luckiest guy on the planet, and he’ll know it. All that, and the fact that you never date, is pretty damn intimidating.”

  There’s a flutter in my chest; does he mean I’m the perfect girl made in his head? Is he intimidated by me?

  He moves closer now. I can feel the heat coming off his body. Yes, Evan, find the courage. And then his hand is cupping my cheek and I instinctively lean in to it, a little gasp of air escaping my lips.

  I’ve never imagined this with Evan. It’s never occurred to me to even dare hope what he felt for me was more than a protective best friend. Good thing, I would have done the fantasy no justice. His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I realize…I could be swinging a bat, casting a reel, and driving a truck all at the same time, but I’m still 100% woman.

  I think I speak out loud. “Are you intimidated, Evan?”

  He leans over, touching his forehead to mine as he takes a deep breath. His nose brushes along mine, his whisper on my lips. “Not anymore, I’m done with that, and I’m done not kissing you. All you have to do is say no, precious girl. But please, please…just say yes.”

  As I whisper “yes,” his mouth takes mine. His lips are soft and gentle, sending a sizzle throughout me. His hand glides from my cheek to the hair behind my ear, stroking it slowly, over and over again. He breaks contact to lean back slightly, meeting my eyes, and a whiny protest from the loss escapes me. I’m positive he sees a confusing mixture of happiness, shock, and…lust?