Page 26 of The Cost of Forgetting You

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, I shoved my books into my locker without a second glance.

“You’ve been in a shitty mood all day, you know that?”

The glare I fired Derell’s way was enough to silence him but not to wipe the smirk off his face.

“Dude—”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Jed.” I elbowed our other friend, a heavyset brute with unfortunate teeth but a killer sense of humor. “Let’s just go.”

“You might wanna listen to him.” Derell pointed over my shoulder. “Pastor’s daughter incoming.”

I followed my friends’ stares, and when I saw Lucy approaching, it was all I could do not to shove them into the opposing locker room just to get them away from her.

“Hi, Henry.” Lucy’s hair was braided into a single spindle down her back. Her gaze flickered from Jed on my one side to Derell on the other before settling on me, one delicate hand tugging that braid over her shoulder and twirling it around her fingers. “I was wondering, er, if I could come with you tonight. You know. To the bonfire.”

I’ve swallowed my own spit a million times in my life, but I swear to God in that moment I completely forgot how to do it. Instead a thick glob of it knotted my throat, rendering me speechless.

“He’d love that.” Derell’s arm came around my shoulder with a slap.

Her lashes, fair but long, dusted her cheeks as she blinked, waiting for me to be the one to answer. The one to say I would, in fact, love that.

“Will your dad let you?”

Jesus Christ. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. I wanted her there with every bone in my body, so why on earth was I saying anything to suggest otherwise?

Her lips, the perfect shade of pink, curved into a mischievous grin. “No, but that’s why we aren’t going to tell him.”

So no, sneaking out wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I’d do it all over again for the look on her face as she darts across her yard to me. Moonlight turns the blue-gray of her eyes to liquid silver, wide and unabashed. She’s all teeth with the way she smiles. I’ve never been one for art, but my fingertips itch to paint the flush of her skin, turned rosy in the cold.

She’s also wearing jeans that snap just below her navel, which is exposed by the sweater she’s tied up in a knot. The sight of her smooth abdomen sends a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the fact that it’s forty degrees out.

“Henry, are you there?” She wraps her denim jacket tight around her middle, hunching over to peer into the bush where I’m crouched.

“I’m here!”

I pop up a little too suddenly, and she startles, her hand flying to her heart. “Shit, you scared me!”

Nervous laughter bubbles up in my chest, escaping in low, choppy breaths. “Did you just curse?”

Her eyes widen, then dart to the ground. “Sorry, I just wanted to try it.”

Our breaths are merging into puffs of smoke in the air. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I reach for her arm and squeeze. “Hey, look at me.”

It takes a few seconds, but she obliges.

“You can try anything with me.” I use my other hand to cross my heart. “Promise.”

Her smile returns, and it’s like day breaking in the middle of the night. This close, I can hear the ragged pace of her breaths, but I don’t understand. Is she cold? Is she nervous? My hand slips down her arm to her wrist, taking in the rapid thrum of her pulse. Mine echoes hers, a resounding snare drum in my ears. “Lucy?—”

She shoves her hands into her pockets, huffing out another cloud. “So, are we going to this party or what?”

I nod, taking an unsteady step backward and then another until there’s enough space between us that I can inhale without the scent of honeysuckle accompanying the breath. “Right, yes. I parked up the street a ways so your dad couldn’t hear the truck. Are you okay to walk?”

Her lips form a thin smile, and she nods, gesturing for me to lead the way.

When we arrive at the field on the outskirts of town, there are already several trucks forming a semicircle around a bonfire housed in a cinder-block ring. I back in next to Derell’s beat-up Ford, several discarded beer cans crunching under my tires. Derell and Jed are leaning against his tailgate, ogling the object of Jed’s desire since third grade: Talia Winters.

She’s tall with a dark, slicked-back ponytail and a perpetual pout coated in her signature plum lipstick. She’s also a bit into herself for my taste, but she’s given a blow job to at least two guys in our grade, and Jed is desperate to be next. I roll my eyes, snickering as I shut off the engine.

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