Page 9 of Undeniable

I knew she was right. I just didn’t know how right she was going to be.

FOUR

James

Thirteen Years Ago

I was hungover,but at least I was on time.

I strolled into the Sharpe’s house because we were past knocking after living next door to each other for my entire life. Ms. Sharpe greeted me with a smile.

She was standing in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for Sunday dinner and humming along to the country music playing in the background.

“Hi, James. How’s it goin’?” she asked, and I nearly winced at the volume of her voice.

“Not too bad. How are you, Ms. Sharpe?”

“Livin’ the dream. Ivy’s in her room if you want to head back there. I’m heading out to the garden after I’m done with these potatoes if you need me. Isn’t that somethin’ that your teacher paired y’all up for your last project of your senior year?”

I smiled and headed toward the hallway with all the bedrooms. “Yeah, it’s somethin’.”

I passed the bathroom, picture after family picture lining the hallway walls. I was in a few of them, along with my family. Me, Mom, and Dad were among the Sharpe family more often than not, actually. It was like a time line of family parties and holidays the closer I got to Ivy’s room at the end of the hallway.

I braced myself and slowed my steps before I reached for the doorknob.

There wasn’t any sound emanating from the other side of the door, and I didn’t know what I was walking into.

I didn’t want to admit it, but Ivy’s visceral reaction to being partnered up with me hurt. It was obvious she’d begun to think less and less of me over the years and as we drifted apart—focusing on different things and running with different crowds. But I didn’t think she truly disliked me until that Friday.

Annoyed that I was so in my head about our friendship—or lack thereof—the door to my right swung open.

“Oh, hey man,” Forrest said, almost bumping into me. “Here to work on that project?”

I didn’t miss the suspicious look on his face or the way his eyes narrowed with the question. “Umm… yeah.”

After several seconds, he finally nodded. “Good luck. I honestly can’t believe you’re even up and walking right now. With the amount you drank last night, I expected you to cancel and stay in bed, heaving into a trash can.”

I chuckled and ran a hand through my hair. The hour-long shower I’d taken had only done so much to soothe the pounding in my head. And I was honestly still concerned that with the wrong movement, I’d need that trash can.

“You think your sister would’ve let me cancel?”

Forrest opened his mouth to respond at the same time Ivy’s door swung open and the feisty redhead appeared before us.

“Sis, take it easy on my man, okay?”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “You make me sound like some kind of insane person. Like I’m going to beat him to death with our history textbook unless he does at least fifty percent of the project. I would never… actually…”

Forrest playfully shoved Ivy on the shoulder and said his goodbyes. He glanced back at me only once before he jogged down the hallway and disappeared into the kitchen around the corner.

He was acting strange, but whatever his problem was was just that: his problem.

“I’m going to grab some water before we get started,” Ivy said and then stepped aside to let me in her room. “I would say make yourself at home, but I’m worried if I do, you’re going to start going through my stuff. So, it’s probably best if you just sit there on the chair at my desk.”

She was gone before I had an opportunity to respond.

I stepped inside her room, and it transported me back. It’d been several years since I’d been in there—the last time I was in her room was when the walls were still painted bubblegum pink. There had even been a colorful floral mural on the wall with the twin windows facing my house. Back then, she’d still had a twin bed with a little white canopy draped over it.

Her bedroom now couldn’t have been any more different. The previously pink walls were painted a light gray and her twin-size bed was replaced by a full-size one that was still positioned between those two windows. The floral theme hadn’t completely disappeared, though; it had migrated from the walls to her bedspread.

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