Page 93 of Puck Block

“Tell us what?” Emory crosses his arms.

I look at Taytum, and she’s already staring at me. The blood starts to drain from her face, and I’d pretty much do anything to put the color back on her cheeks. I gently shake my head and silently tell her that everything will be fine.

“We’re selling the house.”

Emory is shocked and immediately asks why. When his parents don’t answer, he starts prodding even further, demanding to know why they’re not coming to the game next week and why they’d go to Lennie’s birthday party when we all know they hate the nosy lady to begin with.

I’m locked on Taytum listening to everything going on around us. She’s frozen in the middle of the kitchen, listening toher parents explain to her older brother how they need money to pay off the medical bills and such. When Emory starts to come up with the most ridiculous plan to get a job and help pay–as if he can fit that into his busy schedule–Taytum starts to visibly shake. I’m on my feet, following every one of her backward steps. No one but my aunt notices our departure. She quickly grabs onto my hand, gives it a gentle squeeze, and then I’m off.

It’s funny how everyone is so worried about Taytum’s diabetes that they tend to forget about her.

I don’t, though.

I should if I knew what was good for me.

But deep down, all I want is for her to be good for me.

[ 43 ]

TAYTUM

I’m trembling,and the cold winter air isn’t helping. My chin wobbles, and chills cover my skin, but I’d rather be outside in my stupid little hideout than inside where my entire family is trying to figure out a solution to a problem that isn’t even theirs.

I run through my options, and they’re almost as ridiculous as Emory threatening to quit Bexley U’s hockey team to get a job. As if I’d ever let him do something like that for me. Sure, he’s ruined a lot of good moments in my life–like every date I’ve ever had, my senior prom, multiple friendships because god forbid I have an attractive older brother and girls blamemefor his refusal to date them—but I’d never take away his future because of something completely unfair to not only me but to everyone else too.

“One, two, three, four…” I glance behind me and see a head full of sandy-blond hair. Ford continues to climb the rickety ladder we built when we were ten and finishes his sentence. “I declare a thumb war.”

“Sorry, I changed the password,” I mumble. “You can’t come up.”

There’s a long pause, and when I peek back again, he shoots me a dazzling smile that I feel in my chest. “Mmm…girls rule, boys drool?”

In complete disbelief, I turn toward him. “How do you even remember that one?”

His crooked grin reminds me of the boyish version of him that used to sit up here with me on summer nights. “I remember everything about you...even the dumb passwords you came up with in fifth grade.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t have time for his cutesy remarks. I know he’s just trying to lighten my mood, but this time, it’s not going to work.

“I also remember that your favorite color is blue, which makes sense because it’s the same color as my eyes.”

I scoff dramatically. “That is not why my favorite color is blue.”

Ford climbs up another step of wood nailed to the tree trunk. “I remember what you wore on the first day of high school, and on the first day of your sophomore year, and on the first day of your junior year,andlastly, I remember that damn dress you tried to escape the house in on the first day of your senior year when you thought Emory and I had already left for Bexley U.”

They stopped me from going into the school and made me change in the back of my car.

I hated them for it.

Ford’s fingers drum against the bark of the elm tree, and I spin on the creaky old wood, letting my legs dangle off the edge. The treehouse is pathetic with its old plywood as a floor and nothing for the sides. I wouldn’t even call it a treehouse, but when we were young, it was all the rage.

“I also remember that every time you’ve ever been truly upset about something, you climb this outrageously tall tree and give me a heart attack.”

It makes me feel alive. It always has.

“You’re welcome for keeping your heart healthy.” I turn away. “A higher heart rate is good for endurance.”

Ford finally hauls himself up and scoots to the very far edge of the plywood. He doesn’t let his feet dangle, though. Instead, his long legs sprawl out in front of him, and he traps me in between them. I glance down at his leg in my lap, but I don’t attempt moving it. “Fuck endurance. Your little stunts are terrible for my heart, Taytum.”

“I’m beginning to think I’m terrible for everyone’s heart,” I mumble.

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