Sidecar Crush

Kelvin was on his laptop at the kitchen table. We were supposed to be taking the week off, but he didn’t know what time off meant. I’d been hoping he’d relax a little more, but so far, he’d been as busy as if we were back in L.A.

We’d been here a few days, and I was keenly aware that we had to leave Friday afternoon. Such a short time. It felt like we hadn’t done even a quarter of the things I wanted to do. So far, we’d spent most of our time here, at the cabin. I’d been visiting my dad in the afternoons, but other than that, we hadn’t been out much. Kelvin was frustrated by the lack of paleo and gluten-free options at the local restaurants, so he’d been cooking dinners here. And he’d been so busy working, we hadn’t done much sightseeing.

I took the whistling kettle off the stove and poured water into my mug. Dunked the tea bag a few times. The scent of pine coming in the open window filled the air while Kelvin’s fingers clicked on his keyboard.

I hadn’t seen Jameson again. Not since I’d been in line behind him at the Pop In. I’d recognized him instantly, although he looked a bit different from what I remembered. Still had short dark hair and sweet blue eyes. But he’d matured—his features taking on a more rugged look, with that strong Bodine jaw covered in stubble. He no longer had the same boyish face. He was a man now.

Jameson Bodine. Next to my daddy, he’d been my favorite person when I was a little girl. I’d been friends with the other girls my age, but Jameson and I had shared a special bond. We’d spent endless hours together, walking trails, swimming in the lake, splashing in mud puddles. He’d been a quiet child around most people, but when we were together, he’d opened up. Talked to me about all kinds of things. It had made me feel so special. Like I knew a secret. I got to see something no one else did—the things he was hiding on the inside.

I’d taken that responsibility very seriously. Guarded his secrets—such as they were when we were small—with care. I’d kept them tucked away inside my heart, like little presents that were only for me. I could remember looking at him in school during class—watching as he doodled on his papers, keeping his head low—and feeling like I was the most special girl in the world, because I knew things about Jameson Bodine that no one else knew.

My heart had broken when my parents told me they were getting a divorce and my mom and I were moving away. To Florida, of all places. I’d known I’d miss my daddy, and my friends at school. Bootleg Springs had been the only place I’d ever known—my only home.

But leaving Jameson Bodine had been the worst thing of all. The stricken look on his face when I’d told him I was moving away was still burned into my memory. His blue eyes had gone dark and stormy, his jaw clenched. He’d fought back tears, which had made me cry like a baby. Then he’d wrapped his skinny twelve-year-old-boy arms around me and hugged me tight—told me everything would be okay.

When I’d come back to stay with my dad the next summer, I’d gone straight for the Bodines’ house. And it had been as if Jameson and I hadn’t been apart for more than a day. We’d spent the long summer days wandering around town, down to the lake, through the woods. At first, we’d caught up on what had happened over the past school year. He’d filled me in on all the Bootleg gossip; I’d told him about life in Florida. After that, things between us had gone on like they always had. We’d spent our days together, running home at sunset like all the other kids in town.

And so it had gone for the next several years. I’d spend the school year living with my mom in Jacksonville. I had friends at school. Joined the theater club and acted in plays. Performed in talent shows. Did my homework and talked on the phone too much—normal teenage girl things.

But I lived for summers, when I’d go stay with my dad in Bootleg Springs. Jameson would be waiting for me on the front steps of his house my first day in town, and we’d pick up right where we left off, as if we hadn’t been apart at all.

Everything had changed the summer Callie Kendall disappeared. My mom had heard the news and hopped the first flight she could get to West Virginia. Callie and I had been the same age, and my mom had been convinced Bootleg was suddenly dangerous. Too dangerous for her daughter to be unsupervised like I was. Telling her I was rarely alone, even with Dad working all day, hadn’t helped. Because for the first time, she seemed to realize I spent my summers running around with one of those Bodine boys.