Pretty When She Cries - Black Mountain Academy

“So let them stare.” I hold out my foot, examining it from every angle. “You’re the only one who will see them wrapped around your body that night.”

“That’s right,” he growls, leaning up for another drugging kiss.

Just when I think I have him where I want him, he pulls away again. I groan.

“Patience, little pineapple. You never learn.”

He produces a clear plastic container from his pocket, and I recognize the flower inside when he pops it open. It’s a plumeria. His eyes are smoldering when he reaches up and tucks it behind my left ear. I don’t miss the significance. In Hawaii, a flower is symbolic of romantic status. By placing the flower there, Landon is laying claim to me and letting the world know I’m his.

“Nothing has ever been truer.” I brush my fingers along his jaw.

“I’ll buy you one every day.” He leans in and kisses the shell of my ear. “So you never forget.”

“I won’t ever forget,” I assure him because I know he still needs that from me. Landon hasn’t had many people in his life who were there for the long haul, and I think a part of him is still worried I’m going to disappear too. But little does he know I have plans to prove him otherwise. I’ll prove it to him every day for as long as our hearts keep beating.

“I hope you mean that.” He reaches down for the other shoebox, and this time when he opens it, there’s a pair of hiking boots.

“What are those for?” I laugh.

He offers me a lazy smile as he tests one out on my other foot. It fits perfectly too.

“For the next adventure.” He looks up at me. “If you’ll say yes.”

“Say yes?” My voice sounds so weird.

He takes my hands in his and strokes my palms with his thumbs. “Take a year off with me, Kail. Let’s travel the world together, and then we can move wherever you want. You can set up your dance studio, and I’ll figure out what comes next for me.”

My racing heart makes it difficult to catch my breath. He looks so nervous. As if I would or could ever say no to him.

I curl my hands into his shirt and drag him up to meet me, whispering my answer against his lips.

“I thought that was already a given.”EpilogueTwo Years LaterIt’s funny how things change. I can remember our Christmases in Hawaii so clearly, yet they feel like a lifetime ago. My mom would wake me up early to open my presents, usually a new pair of dancing shoes or a skirt I’d had my eye on. Then we’d make stacks of pancakes with sweet coconut sauce while we sang “Mele Kalikimaka.” My grandmother, or Tutu as I call her, would join us, and we’d go to the beach to build sandmen and watch the local surfing Santa.

For me, they were the best times, but I could remember the sadness in my mother’s eyes when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. She longed for something I couldn’t understand in my small brain at the time. She loved me more than anything, and she had dedicated her whole life to raising me, but she was lonely.

So much has changed since then. Now, everything makes sense. The location is different. Instead of the ocean, it’s mountains. And instead of surfers in the distance, it’s family.

In fact, one glance at the kitchen table, and you’d think my mother had adopted half the strays in Black Mountain. Court is here, sitting next to Miles, his arm wrapped possessively around the back of her chair. My best friend decided to stay in Black Mountain and attend the local university for a digital arts degree, much to her parents' annoyance. Court decided to walk her own path, and I suspect she’s much happier for it. There’s an odd sunniness in her disposition today, and Miles looks so gratified, I’m certain I don’t want to know what he gave her this Christmas morning.

Beside them, Jared and Carson are savoring the last of the sweet coconut sauce, their faces kissed from the California sun. Theo and my mother are making out like teenagers under the mistletoe in the kitchen, and Tutu is singing “Mele Kalikimaka” to herself as she clears the dishes with a smile.

Landon’s fingers graze the nape of my neck, and I shiver when he leans in to whisper in my ear.

“Remember Mykonos?”

Goose bumps break out along my skin as I nod, biting back a smile. How could I ever forget? We stayed in that beautiful suite for days. Every morning, our personal host, Nico, would make the journey from the kitchen down the narrow, winding stairs with a full spread of breakfast for us. He’d set it out on the patio overlooking the sea, and we’d eat our fruit and pastries and espressos while ships came and went, swaying to and fro in the unreal blue waters.