Not that a part of me won’t always love Everett, because there will always be a part of my heart that’s been reserved for him.
You can’t love someone that much and not be forever altered by it.
“He’s always missed you, Vi,” Hazel says cautiously. “Please just be careful, because the two of you could very easily fall backtogether, and when you leave, I don’t want to pick him back up again.”
Yeah, I need to be careful for myself too.
I’m blaring my favorite song, singing as loud as I can as I drive back home. The sun has set, the stars are shining, and I’m still singing my silly heart out when I put the car in park. You don’t just shut the car off in the middle of a ballad.
The song finishes and I’ve grabbed my purse to exit the car when I see a shadow of someone moving on my porch.
My heart starts to race, and all the blood drains from my face.
Oh, God. I’m going to die.
I try to remember what to do from those self-defense classes.
However, my brain seems to have gone blank. I should do something. I should ... run or use my car. That’s what I should do.
I start my car back up and then the shadow is at my window, the hood is pushed back, and I realize it’s not a serial killer or someone who wanted to abduct me. It’s Everett.
I let out a very heavy breath and pry my fingers from the death grip I have on the steering wheel.
I manage to get out of the car on shaky legs. “Everett, you scared the crap out of me.”
“I was sitting right there. You probably didn’t notice me as it was all coming back to you, huh?”
Great. He heard me singing. Fabulous.
“After a good girls’ night out, you should always end it with a song.”
He chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it.”
My heart is finally beating at a normal pace. I lean against my car door, wondering why he’s here and also hoping it’s for the same reason I thought about turning down his driveway when I was coming home.
I lift my gaze, our eyes meeting, and it feels as though we’re both saying a million things.
Do you want me still?
Did we make a mistake?
Should we make another one?
Neither of us speak, and then I feel the brush of his knuckles against my face. My eyes close as I lean into the touch. So soft. So gentle. So perfect.
“Everett, why are you here?” I ask, barely a whisper.
He holds my face in his hands, tilting it up until I’m looking into his gorgeous brown eyes. “It’s still tomorrow.”
sixteen
Everett
Call me stupid.
Call me whatever you want, but I sat on her porch step for an hour talking myself in and out of being there.
I even left once, but then found myself right back there.
