Page 18 of The Charm of You

Yet another turn of the page, and there’s still no picture of Austin. He’s not even in the background of any of these candid shots from around the school.

I, on the other hand, am in a lot of them. I’m smiling in each, and my flowy blonde hair is always perfect and shiny. Posing next to other cheerleaders. Making funny faces in the middle of a group of football players. Standing tall in the middle of our stadium with a bouquet of roses in my arms and a glimmering crown on my head—homecoming night.

I stop again on the list of superlatives our class voted on, running my finger over each as they jog more memories loose.

Class Clown: Owen Conrad

Most Athletic: Nathan McAllister

Teacher’s Pet: Addison Lockhart

Addie’s picture under the title makes me giggle. While others would’ve been insulted by the brown-nosing insinuation of the title, Addie was tickled. In the picture, her shoulders are squared, and her head is held high as she grins proudly at the camera.

Cutest Couple that Never Was: Addison Lockhart and Owen Conrad

I snort into my palm with that one. My old friend might’ve been delighted to be teacher’s pet, but pitting her next to her high school nemesis sent her into a blinding rage. I spent the day of the announcements consoling a fuming Addie, who insisted we create an alternate yearbook page where her name didn’t appear anywhere near Owen’s. Then she wanted to run around town and beg the local print shop to switch out the pages.

She was willing to drive to Savannah and beyond to remedy what she deemed “the social tragedy of the century.”

It took me a whole day to talk her down from such an insane plan.

I see my own name a lot among these titles.

Best Dressed: Caroline Summers

Most Sparkling Personality: Caroline Summers

Most Likely to Succeed: Caroline Summers

My stomach rolls as I reach the part of the yearbook with the individual portraits, where I use the tip of my finger to scroll down to the K’s until I reach Austin.

I squint, bring the book closer, and squint some more, studying the picture. I triple-check the name too, and sure enough, it’s Austin.

Except it looks nothing like the guy I saw today.

This morning, the man I ran into is raw, muscular, and hard-working. His flannel didn’t reveal much of his physique, but his veiny forearms suggested plenty. I’d bet my 401k he’s hiding natural muscles underneath—the kind that are cultivated from physical labor and not thanks to a gym.

But the kid in front of me couldn’t be more opposite. The boy staring back at me has shaggy hair draped over half of his face, and the frown he wears is less broody and more sad.

My heart cracks as guilt seeps in because even with the evidence that Austin was, in fact, in our class, I still don’t remember him.

“What’re you up to in here all by your lonesome?” Mama stands in the doorway, which is when I notice the smell of cinnamon coming in with her. I was really consumed by my trip down memory lane, while she was baking up a storm.

“I was just looking for someone.” I slam the yearbook shut and open my mouth to ask her about Austin, but I clamp it closed too. It’s bad enough that he himself, as well as Addie, experienced my shameful oversight; sharing the embarrassment with Mama would be overkill.

“It’s fun thinking back to old times, isn’t it?” A twinkle appears in her eye, and a different question claws its way up my throat.

Does she think about Daddy a lot?

Instead of voicing it, I swallow it down and offer her a simple smile. “I’m glad to be back here.”

“And we’re glad to have you.” She squeezes her arms around me, and my chest lightens.

Mama’s hugs are better than her pies, and my heart aches. Until now, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed her, this house, and this town.

While I had, and still have, mixed feelings about coming here, I ultimately meant what I said—I’m glad to be back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help with whatever you were baking,” I say, pulling away.

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