Page 105 of Catch the Sun

A childhood park date with an orange flower caught between the donkey’s teeth.

Sitting side by side at a bonfire years later.

Dancing together at the Fall Fling.

Watching the Taurid meteor shower in a secluded field.

Playing Pooh sticks on the bridge until the night is sealed with a sweet kiss.

And when I turn to the final page, a new picture stares back at me. A moment yet to come.

A future.

We’re sitting beside a beautiful white horse, watching the sky above us sparkle with pretty green lights. “The End” is scribbled in loopy letters underneath the picture.

I break down and cry, covering my face with both hands as my entire body shakes with soul-shattering tremors.

“Don’t cry, Sunny,” Max whispers, pulling me closer. “Please don’t cry.”

I feel his lips graze my temple, my hair, my tearstained cheek. Words are elusive. Words are utterly pointless in a moment like this because there are no words that can describe how I’m feeling.

I wrap both arms around him and tackle him to the bed, crying against the crook of his neck as he holds me to his chest and strokes my hair. I can hardly catch my breath as I murmur, “Thank you. That was so beautiful.”

“It wasn’t lame and cheesy?”

I shake my head. “It was perfect. You’re perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

He kisses the top of my head, still smoothing back my hair. “You deserve so much more than you know.”

Sniffling, I scoot off him and curl up against his side, my finger drawing lazy designs across his chest, when a light tapping at the door startles us from the moment. I shoot up in bed and scrub the tears off my face while swatting down my mess of hair.

Mr. Manning pokes his head inside. “You kids all right?”

“We’re fine, Dad,” Max says, clearing his throat. “Be out in a minute.”

“Okay. Well, the camping gear is in the truck. We should try to get there before dark,” he tells us, leaning on his cane as his eyes stare off over our heads. “You know your mother hates putting the tents up in the dark.”

I stiffen beside Max, my hands squeezing together as my heart thumps.

Mr. Manning must have gotten into the spiked punch.

Max stands, glancing at me before looking back at his father. “Dad?”

He doesn’t respond right away, gazing out through the far window with a pinched brow. Finally, he blinks a few times and returns his attention to Max. “Dessert is ready. Blueberry pie.” Sending us both a quick nod and a smile, he slowly pivots around and disappears from the doorway.

I watch Max’s fists ball at his sides, the planks of his back rippling with tension. I wait for him to acknowledge the odd interaction, but he doesn’t. Hejust swallows and glances my way. “Pie?”

Nodding slowly, I force a smile. “Pie sounds great.”

Letting out a long breath, Max ducks his chin to his chest and walks out of the room.

My eyes close as a sad feeling floats across my heart like a rain cloud. But I don’t have time to wallow in it because I’m jolting in place when Brynn!’s voice startles me.

“Dessert time,” she says, peeking around the door. “Are you okay?”

Her tone is lacking its usual enthusiasm, the words void of exclamation points. “I’m okay. Are you?” As I glance at her from the bed, I swear there are tears in her eyes. Rims of red and smudged mascara.

She bobs her head with extra force. “Sure! Of course. I’m excited for dessert.” The smile is also strained as she folds her hands together. “Oh, hey…you should come to Morrison’s New Year’s Eve party with us,” she says. “It’s going to be a lot of fun. Live music, fireworks, catered food.”

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