Page 11 of Merry Me
Casey leaned back in, still buzzing with shock and whisper-shouting. “How is that even possible? You dated Easton Maddox, and you’re just, what? Casually not talking about it? Is he the reason you don’t want to go home?”
“Obviously,” I said miserably. “What am I supposed to do if he’s there? Pretend everything’s fine? Pretend I didn’t break up with him and ruin everything?”
Casey tilted her head, considering me like I was some kind of puzzle. “Okay, first of all, you didn’t ruin anything. Second, you’re going to woman up, Natalie Skye Bennett. You’re going to go to that wedding, looking like the hottie you are, and enjoy your sister’s day. If Easton Maddox is there? Good. Let him see what he’s missing. Make him feel all that hot movie-star regret. Let him eat his heart out.”
Parker coughed, his eyes now resembling a cartoon character as well. I was pretty sure Casey was about to get dragged away and taken on the nearest flat surface so that he could remind her of who she was with.
You’re welcome,Case.
I sighed. “He won’t regret it,” I muttered. “I broke it off. I thought I was doing the right thing. Ididdo the right thing.”
Casey’s expression softened. “Then maybe it’s time to find out if it’sstillthe right thing…”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll go. But if I embarrass myself, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal,” she said, grinning like the meddling best friend she absolutely was.
As the group around us laughed and toasted, I made a silent vow to myself. No matter what happened, I’d get through this wedding. Even if it meant facing the boy I’d once loved—and the man he’d become.
CHAPTER 4
NATALIE
The drive to my childhood home was as familiar as the back of my hand. The roads wound through sleepy neighborhoods and past landmarks that hadn’t changed in decades—Mr. Hampton’s bait shop, Ms. Alexandra’s dance studio, the rusty water tower that boasted a faded painting of the high school mascot. Each curve in the road brought with it a million memories, like ghosts trailing the car, whispering reminders of who I used to be.
I loved my family. Besides the whole being deserted by my biological father thing…I’d had a great childhood. Backyard birthday parties, summer nights catching fireflies, snow days with cocoa so sweet it made your teeth hurt. But coming back here since that last night with Easton always felt like digging up something buried. Something better left undisturbed.
Because everything here…every cracked sidewalk, every blinking streetlamp…It still echoed with him. With us.
I turned onto my parents’ street, the old oak trees arching overhead like a tunnel, branches heavy with December frost. And there it was. The white house with blue shutters. My stepdad Steve’s old Chevy parked in the driveway. The flower beds, even in winter, were weed-free and neatly mulched, my mom refusing to let them go dormant like the rest of the world.The porch swing creaked in the breeze. It was the picture of home.
And yet, every corner of this place reminded me ofhim.
Pulling into the driveway, I sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel like it could anchor me. Like if I held on tightly enough, I could keep the past from crashing into the present.
But it always did.
My mind always drifted, always went back…to the first time I’d seen Easton Maddox.
Mrs.Green’s homeroom buzzed with the low hum of pre-class chatter as I sat at my desk,doodling swirls and stars on the cover of my notebook.Betsy Meyers,seated beside me,droned on about her older brother’s latest reason for being grounded,but I wasn’t really listening.The faint smell of pencil shavings and tater tots lingered in the air,even though lunch was hours away.
The door creaked open,and Betsy stopped mid-sentence.A hush fell over the room as everyone turned toward the doorway.
I finally glanced up to see why everyone had gotten so quiet.
And there he was.
Wow.
The new boy walked in like he owned the place.
Tall for a seventh grader,with dark hair that fell in that perfect,just-rolled-out-of-bed way, and eyes so green they seemed to cut through the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights.He wasn’t just confident;he was magnetic,like some invisible force pulled everyone’s attention toward him.
He glanced around the room,his gaze sweeping over everyone like he was deciding where he belonged.When his eyes landed on me,he smiled.Not just any smile—that smile.It stretched slow and easy across his face,disarming and infuriating all at once.My stomach flipped so hard it was a miracle I didn’t fall out of my chair.
I couldn’t look awayeven though I wanted to.My fingers froze on my notebook,the pen hovering mid-scribble.
He walked toward me,his steps purposeful and sure,like he’d already decided exactly where he was going to sit.
