Page 28 of Home Sweet Home

It was like she was under a microscope, every atom exposed. “What?”

West turned his head and touched his finger to his nose. “You still have those freckles.”

Evie reached her hand up on reflex. She’d never liked them, not because of how they looked, but because they were a reminder of the person who’d given them to her. “The sun. Makes them darker.”

He opened his mouth before closing it then opening it again. Before he could say whatever was on his mind, Oliver came back from the water fountain.

“Are those cookies?” Oliver asked, his attention fixed on the Tupperware in Evie’s hand, whatever West might have been about to say forgotten. She held out the container, and Oliver took two, cradling them in his hands like they were his children. “Evie makes the best cookies.”

“That right?” West raised an eyebrow. Something had changed, a soft glint in his pupils, his gaze focused on a spot on her face just below her eyes. “What’s your secret, Peach?”

Is he staring at my lips?But it was just the light. It had to be. She knew better than to think it was anything else. “Wouldn’t be a secret if I told you.”

“Should we go again?” Oliver asked, smoothing crumbs off his T-shirt.

West nodded, and as he lifted the bar back onto the rack, he glanced out the window of the gym. “Huh. Hail’s stopped. Maybe we can get field time in after all.”

The hail had indeed stopped, but the sky looked strange, the clouds hazy and green. Evie had lived in Creek Water long enough to know what green skies meant. She was surprised West had forgotten.

“We need to get the boys to the bathroom,” Evie said. “Now.”

Then the lights flickered off.

CHAPTERTEN

“Anyone have a quarter?”Freddy asked with a snicker, his fingers hovering over the slot on the tampon dispenser.

Evie had led them to the closest bathroom, which happened to be the girl’s one. Growing up, she’d been in tornado drills a few times a year, and some boy, without fail, made the same joke, delivered the same way as Freddy, with the same smirk, so impressed with their originality.

“Sit down against the wall,” Evie said.

The bathroom was windowless and dark, slivers of light peeking through the cracks surrounding the door. As the boys squatted down, Evie counted them off, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Once the count was done, Evie slid down next to West. He’d picked a spot away from the boys. Their muffled chatter was audible but not distinct. The ceramic tile was cold against her butt, even through her shorts.

Wind whipped through the room, so loud it made Evie’s heart thud against her rib cage. Laughter floated over from where the boys sat. Freddy was smirking at Oliver, who had his knees tucked up into his arms, his back pressed up hard against a stall.

Evie shot him a look. “What’s so funny, Freddy?”

It had the intended effect, because Freddy’s eyes went wide. The smirk vanished, and a piece of lint on his shirt suddenly became very interesting to him. “Nothing.”

The boys moved on, laughing at something, not at Oliver’s expense, but West was quiet. With each second of silence, Evie became more aware of how close his body was, their thighs a few inches apart.

“Tornadoes used to scare the crap out of me,” West said. “I used to look up at the teachers during drills. They seemed so calm. It would make me feel like nothing bad could happen.” He shook his head. “Then I got older and realized they were just as scared as I was.”

“I felt the same way,” Evie said as the wind picked up again, whistles echoing off the ceramic tiles. She had been through enough tornado drills in her life to know that most of the time, everything was fine. A tornado had never destroyed something in Creek Water, but the sounds were eerie enough to make her stomach flip.

West shifted next to her, and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him looking at her, his white-hot gaze burning up her skin. “What did you mean by ‘some things never change’?”

Out of context, the question made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

“After sign-ups. You said, ‘I guess some things never change.’ Been bugging me.”

Evie glanced toward the boys, worried they could hear the conversation, but they seemed wrapped up in whatever antics they were using to pass the time. “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”

“Come on, Peach. You’ve been friendly enough the last few weeks, but I know I did something to piss you off. Doesn’t seem fair, holding it against me when I don’t even know what it is.”

When she was sixteen, she’d had this conversation with West a hundred times in her head. She’d imagined him coming home from college. They would run into each other at the IGA or at Joe’s, and she would tell him how small he’d made her feel. She’d even practiced the words aloud. One time, Josh overheard her and asked her who she was talking to.

Now she’d grown up and moved on, more desperate to keep it inside than to let it out. But he was asking, and they were stuck with each other, not just until the tornado passed, but until the end of the summer. She didn’t know why he was so insistent on bringing up old memories she would rather forget. “I just meant that you still care too much about what other people think.”

---