Hold on to Hope
Only Frankie knew she was still missing one person.
Her mama touched her face, her smile full of wonder. “It has been my absolute honor to get to be your mama, Frankie Leigh, and I am so excited to see what you do with this new stage of your life.”
“I love you.”
“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” her mama said before she released her and retreated upstairs as well.
Frankie climbed the stairs behind her, only she had no intention of turning in.
She rushed into her room and changed her clothes and slipped right back out the door. She hopped in her car and drove to the small apartment complex by the college where he now lived.
She parked and got out, nerves coiling her stomach in a gazillion intricate knots. Excitement declaring anarchy on any bit of self-control that she had.
Above, the heavens were strewn with a cascade of stars, the air crisp and cool and brushing her overheated skin.
Frankie moved for his door, and she rang the doorbell that she knew would trigger the light inside.
It felt so much like she was flashing her SOS at Evan’s window, the way she’d done all their years growing up.
I need you.
I need you.
I need you.
Only tonight, it was meant in an entirely different way.
A second later, the door cracked open and he peered out.
“Frankie Leigh.” He mumbled it like he hadn’t expected her to come which was ridiculous in itself.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
Wary, he widened the door and stepped back, and she slipped all the way into his tiny apartment. Standing just inside, she gazed at the boy who had somehow become a man.
So beautiful in every way.
His hair mussed like he’d been tugging his fingers through it.
He was wearing no shirt, only a pair of dark jeans.
His feet bare.
God. Why did she think that was sexy, too?
FRANKIE LEIGH, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
She took a single step his direction. He took one back. YOU ACT LIKE YOU DIDN’T KNOW I WOULD COME.
He sighed, and moved over to the chair he’d been sitting on, took a sip of his beer before he set it aside. He seemed to hesitate before he lifted his hands to speak. YOU SHOULD BE OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS.
She was certain he didn’t believe that statement any more than she did. Her head slowly shook, that energy gaining momentum, her heart going thug, thug, thug as she confessed her truth.
YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON I WANT TO BE WITH.
He leaned over, and he roughed a hand over the top of his head.
Sadness gushed out.
She edged forward, wearing the outfit she knew he would like, wanting to catch his attention. But more than that she wanted him to know how special that he was. What he meant to her. The way he made her feel.
She inched all the way forward until her fingers were taking the place of his, and she urged him to look up at her in the shadows of his living room.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, a shiver taking her whole at the way his eyes watched her mouth. She bet this boy could read her like a book.
The way she was shaking.
The way she was trembling all over.
Her nerves running wild.
His attention flitted to the neckless she already wore around her neck.
One she was never goin’ to take off.
His throat bobbed when he swallowed. “Wanted to give you something special for your birthday.”
She fiddled with the white gold. “You did. I love it. I’ll cherish it forever.”
Sorrow left him on a breath, so heavy, and he hung his head again. She brushed her fingers down his jaw, and he finally returned his gaze to her, his eyes pinching at the sides. “I . . . I wanted to try to be better, Frankie. I thought maybe . . . maybe I could be good enough for you.”
Confusion twisted through her spirit, worry catching hold, and she wriggled herself closer until the outside of her legs were wedged between his knees. “What are you talking about, Evan?” she asked quietly, loving that he could hear her that way even when he couldn’t really hear her at all.
He blinked a bunch of times. Like he wanted to reject what he needed to say.
I’M NOT A CANDIDATE.
There was so much pain, so much surrender in his movements, that Frankie’s lungs squeezed tight.
So hard that she was hit with a swell of dizziness.
So tight that she suddenly couldn’t breathe.
Was . . . was he talking about his heart?
Was he sick again?
Frankie tried with all her might not to drop to her knees in dread, but she did anyway when he hung his head.
Climbing to the floor so she could reach him.
Trembling like mad, she grasped both sides of his face. “Not a candidate for what?”
In frustration, he gestured at his ear. “For cochlear implants. I . . .” I JUST WANTED TO BE HALFWAY NORMAL FOR YOU, FRANKIE LEIGH. FIX ONE GODDAMN THING. BE THE KIND OF MAN YOU NEED. I’M SORRY, FRANKIE. I’M SORRY.