Page 2 of The Last Key
“Kennedy,” I sniff.
“Just moved in?”
I nod.
“Don’t want to be here?”
“Nope. I left my home and my life and my cousins—they’re my best friends. Now I have to start all over. I’m angry. I’m lonely. And this just… sucks.”
“Well, you can be angry, but you don’t have to be lonely.”
My eyes shift toward him. “No?”
He looks out at the woods. “Nope. I’ve been looking for a good best friend. You seem nice enough. You like soccer. And you don’t mind crying in front of me, which means you don’t care about appearances like most girls in my school do.” He rolls his eyes. “Actually, how do you feel about camping?”
I turn so I’m partially facing him. “I like camping. My dad and my uncle would take my cousins and me on a camping trip every summer. Tents. Not a camper.”
He smiles and nods approvingly. “Yep. We can definitely be best friends. We can camp in my backyard. We have a firepit and we can roast marshmallows.”
“Can wedrink hot cocoa, too?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, then.”
“Okay, then.” He nods toward my ball. “Wanna play?”
I look at him for a moment, and for the first time since we left our house this morning, I smile.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
He stands and offers me his hand, pulling me from the ground.
Then he smiles, and it’s this cute, troublesome half-smile.
And some part of me knows we’re going to be friends for a long time.
Maybe, justmaybe,this place won’t suck quite as much now.
FOURTEEN YEARS AGO
DEVON
“I didn’t thinkit was going to rain this much,” I say, looking up at the top of the tent, grateful I put on both the rain flyanda tarp. I thought it might be too much, at the time, but I guess not.
“I know. Normally, I love the rain, but I’m freezing,” Kennedy says.
She’s in her sleeping bag but still shivering.
We didn’t bring any extra blankets this time, and neither of us wants to run out in the rain if we don’t have to.
“Come here,” I say, unzipping the side of my sleeping bag. “Bring yours with you.”
She climbs out of the sleeping bag and no wonder she’s freezing. She’s wearing the skimpiest little sleep shorts I’ve ever seen.
Crap.
I can barely control my boners on a good day. Forget when I’m alone with Kennedy. Now she’s in tiny shorts. And snuggling against me. Crap. Crap. Crap.
