Hold on to Hope

Pressing firm and lingering.

They’d kissed before. Little pecks. But never had it been like this.

The two of them breathed each other’s breaths, their eyes locked and staring the whole time. And Evan knew he knew her better than anyone else, but that was the moment he thought he saw into her soul.

The true kindness that was there.

Belief without barriers.

Faith without doubt.

This girl the brightest gift.

Wiser than a woman and more innocent than a child.

He wanted to cling to it.

Believe in it.

Be thankful for it because he doubted there were many people who got to experience a connection like this even if they were given old age.

Still, he pushed her away by the shoulders. “Frankie,” he rasped, fighting to gather his feelings. To get himself back in check. “You can’t go kissing me.”

“Why not?” She was back to pouting.

“Because you’re thirteen.”

“Doesn’t change the way I feel.”

“Yeah, well, I’m almost sixteen, and if your dad found out I was even thinking about it, he’d chop off my dick.”

Okay.

So maybe that might be a solid plan.

Just get rid of the problem.

Frankie giggled, her face half embarrassed and half interested, a reminder that she was way too young to be having this conversation, anyway.

But then she was getting serious again.

Perceptive and discerning.

“Do you remember what your mama always told us, Evan? When we were little? All those suckers we made to try to help out other kids? That all you needed was a lick of hope. Do you remember what that felt like? When we knew we could do anything? Have anything we wanted in this life?”

She touched his cheek.

“Do you know what I want?”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Someday, I want you to kiss me again. Without this fear I see in your eyes right now. That’s what I want.”

There was no chance he could let that happen. She deserved so much more than his wounds that would only in the end make her bleed.

Still, he was following her line of sight toward the skies. In sync, the two of them laid back on the ground to stare upon the stars.

WHICH ONE IS ME? she signed, though he’d shown her a thousand times.

He didn’t mind.

He’d sit there forever and whisper their mysteries.

He threaded his fingers through hers, their arms not quite touching, the way they’d always done.

And for the first time that day, he didn’t feel like he was going to drown.

Twenty-One

Frankie Leigh

Evan: You left.

So probably grinnin’ like a loon at the text message that came in was the exact opposite of what my response should be, but the fact that Evan was back and communicating and that my body was still hummin’ from last night was making me feel like I was flyin’.

Teetering right on the edge of something magnificent.

I just couldn’t help it.

Couldn’t help the butterflies that went scattering and lifting and fluttering wild, wings tickling my belly and fluttering higher to quiver my heart.

From where I stood at the counter at A Drop of Hope, I peeked around, making sure the coast was clear.

Jenna was helping a customer, Aunt Hope was wiping down the tables in the dining area, and Carly was in the back putting the finishing touches on something delicious.

No one was paying any mind to me or my scandalous activities.

There we were—sneaking around again. Thing was, I was more unclear now about who and what we were than I’d ever been.

I was scared to trust him, and I wasn’t scared to admit it. It was just a bitter, ugly consequence of what he had done.

Still, my fingers were flying across the screen.

Me: I did. I’m sorry. I guess I just needed to clear my head.

I stood there staring at the phone, anxious as I waited for a response. Seemed to take forever before one buzzed through.

Evan: Are you already regretting me?

Got the feeling it was somewhere between a tease and a serious question. That was the problem when things went amiss. When connections got broken. You were suddenly walking on thin, cracked ice, tryin’ to be careful not to make a wrong move that would send you tumbling through.

I worried at my bottom lip. I almost laughed, thinking about my gramma on my daddy’s side who’d passed a couple years back. She was the one who’d taught me that phrase, said it was my tell when I was upset, the worrying that I did.

God, I missed her.

She would have had a whole ton to say about this.

Probably like jump in and get wet and see how good it felt to get drenched.

I just wished I could grab back on to that philosophy.

Me: I don’t think I could ever regret you, Evan Bryant.

Evan: That’s good because I have to admit I kinda enjoyed last night. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. Only thing that could have made it better would have been waking up with you by my side.