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“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Challenge accepted. I won’t miss the fireworks.”

“I challenge you to sleep.”

“Challenge rejected.”

Heath laughs, making his chest shake against my back.

“When does it start?”

Just then the noise of the fireworks bursts through the air and a silence falls over the crowd.

I watch the kaleidoscope of bright colors fill the sky and brighten it up. It’s a beautiful sight. I can’t put it into words.

I further lean against Heath, and he wraps an arm around me.

When the last spark dies out, I turn my head. “Take me home.”

48

Hope

Heath parks in front of my house.

“Good night,” I murmur, having no strength to keep my eyes open.

“Get your ass inside,” he orders.

Fighting back a smile I stumble to the porch.

I look back and Heath is watching me. I give him a wave and get inside my house as quietly as I can.

I make my way to the stairs through the darkness. Also, it’s eerily quiet in the house.

Mom is supposed to work a shift tonight and Dad is out with his friends.

I told them about the fair, and they agreed. Though Mom cornered me later and asked me about Heath. I thought about lying but figured she would see through me. When I told her he’d be there, she lectured me to stay away from him among otherthings. I half-listened to her scolding—which is a first for me. I respect her too much to not ever listen to her. After Dad left, she put herself to work to provide for me while also saving up for college. She’s done so much for me. But she doesn’t know Heath like I do. I wish she did.

In the safety of my room, I lock the door and quickly change out of my dress and wash my face.

Wearing my favorite blue pajamas, I slide into bed and retrieve everything out of my satchel.

The polaroids. I love all three of them, but there’s one that’s my favorite. The way Heath is smiling down at me while I’m laughing has my heart turning into a cotton ball.

All my feelings for him resurface and butterflies wreak havoc in my stomach.

I like him so much.

I wonder what he feels for me is as strong as what I feel for him.

A knock on my window pulls my attention. Heath is there, hanging onto the windowsill trying to lift himself off of it. I rush forward and open the window. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to ask you something.”

“You could have texted me.”

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