Rounding Third - Michelle Lynn Page 0,91

when they moved to Beltline, and although it was an insult to us, they’re a nice, neighborly family.

I grab my phone to text Jen.

Me: I’m going home. I’ll be back later.

No answer, and I assumed as much. Jen’s alarm, if she had one, would go off around eleven, at the earliest. She’s one of many college students who selected the late afternoon and evening classes.

“So, you guys are, like, together again, right?” Brax asks over the low hum of country music sounding out of his speakers.

“Yeah,” I answer for the second time.

“You love him again?”

His eyes never veer my way, concentrating on the two-lane road ahead.

“I never stopped.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, you two were…are pretty fantastic together.”

I reach over and pinch his arm. “Is that your sweet side?”

A flush of pink creeps up his neck. “Hell no. Crosby’s happiness is priority.” His eyes focus on the road, ignoring my eyes watching the side of his face. “Jeez, El, let it go.”

I straighten my back as we pass the sign welcoming us to Beltline, biting my lip to stop the smile that’s begging to shine through.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re practically bouncing out of your seat in excitement. I’m not a dick.”

“I never thought that.”

“Sure you did. When I didn’t try to save him.”

My heart hurts from his admission of guilt. He thought he could have saved his friend.

“I never blamed you. Crosby’s demons are his and his alone.”

“Did I tell you about this girl I screwed the other night? She actually admitted she wanted to make her way through our roster.”

He changes subjects so fast that my head spins, but it spins to Noah’s house as we pass by.

Brax slams on the brakes, and I jolt forward. He throws his arm against my chest to stop me, but the seat belt clicks to lock.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly moving over to the side of the road.

There’s fresh yellow paint, and the porch that once was falling down is now fixed in place. Her once wild grass has been cut, neat and fresh, and mulch has been laid down along the trees. Windows, you’d see your reflection out of.

“Did Mrs. Ford sell?” Brax asks.

I shrug because I didn’t hear of anything.

“Is she seeing a new guy?”

I shrug again because Mrs. Ford hasn’t much left her house since the accident. My parents regularly bring her fresh produce and eggs from the farm, but my mom never mentioned her house being redone.

Brax puts the truck back in drive, and my eyes soak in the new house until it’s out of sight.

Soon, we’re passing my family farm.

“You want me to drop you off here for a while?” He takes his foot off the gas.

I shake my head. “No, we’re here to see the Bishops. Let’s go to the store.”

“The store? It will be busy at this time,” he reminds me.

But we have no choice.

“I know.” I made a scene with Xavier weeks ago, and I can do it again.

We pass two other farms before the downtown area of Beltline comes into view. Brax drives us there, slowing at each drop in speed, showing how much he knows about this town. He parks in front of Uncle Wally’s store, but there’s a Closed sign on it. Usually, he’s here at the crack of dawn, but then again, he could very well be with Aunt Darla in Colorado, I suppose.

Brax turns off the iginition, and we each step out. Standing on the sidewalk, I stare at the large Bishop’s sign, and my heart constricts.

“Let’s go.” Brax takes the reins, and I can’t thank him enough for it.

He grabs my hand and weaves us through the parked cars. We step over the hump of grass with trees in the middle and dodge two cars. Brax is right. The place is packed. There are only two sparse carts available in the front.

We stand inside the doors, looking around for Mrs. Bishop, but there’s no sign of her.

Finally, she emerges out of the office door. Her red hair is pulled back into a hairnet, and her white apron is covered in dirt. She can often be found in the butcher part of the shop. She’s probably assuming the slaughtered cow, chicken, or pig is Crosby. The woman has been ruthless in her quest to demolish him.

She stops at a cash register, and then I notice the chaos of the store has quieted with the customers peering over at us. Every limb in my body weighs heavy, and my feet