Most Likely (Most Likely #1) - Sarah Watson Page 0,89

turned to Ava, letting her own sentence dangle.

“I don’t hate him anymore,” Ava said. “So if you like him… And if he likes you…” Jordan watched Ava closely. Something seemed off.

“Whatever,” said CJ. “I don’t want to talk about boys anymore. I want to talk about our newest woman.” She held up her Diet Coke can to make a toast.

Jordan motioned for her to lower it. “Hang on,” she said. “There’s one more thing I have to tell you. It’s about the park.”

She broke the news quickly. She told them that the fight was over. They’d lost. The city was going to build a new park. A different park. One that would never be theirs. “We’re not going to get to leave our names behind.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Martha said.

“Yeah,” Ava added. “It’s just a dumb tradition. We probably should have outgrown it by now anyway.”

CJ turned to Jordan. “You’re the only adult here. So I’ll take your word for it, does carving our names into a jungle gym still seem like a big deal?”

Jordan thought about it. “No,” she said honestly. “Ava’s right. It doesn’t seem like something that adults should care about. But this does.” Jordan took a swipe of frosting and smooshed it into CJ’s face.

CJ laughed as she grabbed for a cupcake. A frosting war broke out and didn’t end until all four of them were covered and CJ was laughing so hard that Diet Coke came out of her nose. As they sat there, wiping frosting off their faces, Jordan completely forgot that just a few hours earlier she’d been in such a hurry to grow up.

“Open your present,” CJ said.

Jordan tore the edges of wrapping paper carefully. Whatever was inside, it seemed delicate. When she saw what it was, a wave of bittersweet emotion swept over her.

“This is perfect,” she said. “This is absolutely perfect.”

It was a voter registration form.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Cleveland, Ohio

Three Months Later

THE SNOW melted early that year, and spring came before anyone was ready for it. It was always a season of change, but this year, CJ felt it more than any other. When the daffodils poked through the thawing soil, she wanted to push their little faces back under and hold them there. Just give us a little more time, she wanted to say. Please. Just a little while longer.

The city officially announced the new park and released a design sketch of what it would look like when it was done. It was going to be beautiful even if it would never be their park. CJ decided that maybe that was okay. The Americans with Disabilities Act hadn’t even been written when the old park was built. The new one was subject to a whole different set of guidelines. She remembered her conversation at the mini-golf course with Wyatt, though. Only 50 percent of the holes had to be accessible. She looked up the park guidelines and saw that they weren’t good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. The familiar refrain echoed in CJ’s mind. It wasn’t good enough. But what could CJ do about it? She was just an average girl. The word made her think of Wyatt, and she smiled. She decided that she had to try. She might fail. She’d probably fail. But what if she didn’t? She opened the city website and started writing down information.

A week later, it was CJ’s last day at Sensational Recreational. The program closed in spring since the city used the rec center for an adult indoor-soccer league. She’d already talked to Dakota’s mom about trying adaptive horseback riding during the interim. Dakota was excited, and a few of the boys were going to give it a shot too. She understood why Wyatt didn’t want anything to do with it, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be valuable for the kids.

She found Wyatt at center court and walked up to him. She was holding an envelope in her hands.

“Is that a ‘last day’ present?” he asked.

“Not exactly. You know how the city is opening a new park?”

He nodded. “I heard something about it.”

“It’ll obviously follow the new ADA guidelines. But…”

Wyatt nodded. “It’s still not going to be a hundred percent accessible.”

“Not even close,” CJ said. “But the thing is, it could be. There’s better equipment out there. It exists.”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t even ask me how many hours I’ve spent researching it. I’ve barely slept this week.” She didn’t feel tired, though. If anything, she felt more alive than she