soared at the definitive tone in his words. The intensity of the passion that clouded his tone. He meant every word. They’d given me a place to stay. He’d given me his home.
And I’d never wanted anything more.
My mom bustled in the background, chatting with Dagny. “I heard at the grocery store that the Frolicking Moose hired you?” Mom said. “Does that mean you’re quitting the Diner?”
Dagny laughed. “G-g-good news travels f-fast around here. Y-yes. I’m s-s-starting next month, when E-e-ellie leaves for s-state university. I-I hate waitressing. The c-c-offee shop will be much easier.”
Dad shuffled around, eyeballing each nook and cranny of the house, a screwdriver in hand, as he sought some way to be helpful and productive. Warmth and love and light permeated the house as Ava skipped past us, headed for Dad. Benjamin gave me a deliciously warm smile, planted a gentle kiss on my lips, then braided our fingers together and gently tugged me back toward my family.
Together.
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Wild Child
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WILD CHILD
Prologue
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The smell of alcohol already stained the air.
Grimacing, I hovered around the edges of a crowd of sweaty high school bodies clad in strappy dresses and tuxedos. A skirt of deep blue rustled around my legs with no design except a layer of sheer, shimmery fabric over the top. The bodice was a little tight, but my chest felt tight anyway.
Anyone would, wearing a dress. Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t been asked to this prom, my best friend was here with the sweetest, most popular girl in the school, and I hated crowds with an introvert’s fiery passion.
Still, I pressed on.
The high school gym hadn’t truly transformed despite the sparkle lights, food table, and crepe banners clogging the air. You can’t hide run down with cheap decorations, not even for the last dance of the year.
The sudden absence of pulsing music left only shuffles and whispers in the air. The principal, Mrs. Comstock, tapped across a stage on the far side of the gym. She wore a pair of bright pink high heels and a pencil skirt of sheer black. Teenage couples pulled apart, turning their attention to a spotlight that illuminated her salt-and-pepper hair, pulled back into a bun, as she stopped at a microphone in the middle of the stage. She held an envelope in her left hand.
“Boys and girls,” she said, voice fuzzy from the speakers. “Hope you’re having a good time, and thank you for behaving yourself. The time has come to announce the King and Queen of this year’s prom.”
A round of applause and whoops rippled through the room, followed by a drumroll from the DJ, who worked in the corner. My stomach clenched. As if any of them needed Mrs. Comstock to tell them who would be King and Queen. I crossed my arm in front of me, tucking my icy fingers away. At least I wasn’t late.
Where was the perfect couple anyway?
My heart thumped as a familiar set of broad shoulders came into view on the other side of the room, near a punch guarded by the towering football couch Mr. Bell. He glowered right behind it, as if daring anyone to try to get past him with alcohol. Not far from him, Devin had his hand around a girl named Cassidy’s. He tugged her closer to the middle of the room, where a few of his football buddies had congregated. When Devin leaned down to whisper in her ear, and she grinned broadly, I clenched my fingers together and resisted the urge to dart away.
This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come. Didn’t matter that it was Devin’s senior prom, that he’d surely take the crown with Cassidy, or that it was our only opportunity to have a dance together before he exited the teenage world and stepped into the adult one.
I shouldn’t have come.
But something kept me glued to the spot as Mrs. Comstock ruffled through the envelope to pull out a piece of paper as if she didn’t already know the two names