“My angels told me you dreamed of the moment that will set a series of life-altering events into motion.”
I dreamed of a cat. There is nothing life-altering about a lost cat in a field. I think her “angels” are wrong, but I don’t want to be rude. I just want the conversation over, so I lie, “I don’t dream. Or at least I don’t remember them.”
It’s not a lie, so much as a stretch of the truth. I typically don’t recall my dreams, but I do remember the cat—how haunting it looked and how its cries were lonely and sad.
“You dreamed, but it’s okay if you don’t want to share. And just so you know, down the road, even when you think I’ve forgotten you, I haven’t. You have always been and always will be at the forefront of my mind.”
My brows slowly rise. I have a hard time believing she even knows my last name. Glory stares straight into my eyes, unwavering, and my brain works overtime to find something coherent to say in return. The screen door squeaks open, and I exhale with relief when Jesse and Suzanne walk back out.
“You two run along,” Suzanne says with a wave of her hand as she sits in the rocking chair. “Have your fun. Glory will take me home after a bit.”
Jesse grins at me, and I don’t need another incentive to leave Glory’s cottage for the safety of Jesse’s land.
Chapter 45
Jesse
Scarlett’s laughter echoes in the open field, and the sound is one of my favorites in the world. Right up there with the sound of the leaves rustling with a light breeze, creek water lapping over rocks, and my gran telling me she made oatmeal cookies.
It’s three in the morning, late May, and thanks to the full moon, there’s a dull light guiding our way. We’re racing and she’s in the lead. Not by much. A foot or two. My heart is pumping as fast as my arms as I try to catch up with her. She’s fast, faster than me, and I can tell by the glint in her eye as she glances back at me that she will win.
I’d like to win. It’s a great feeling to come in first, especially since she’s won the last few times, but we’re coming up to Gran’s trailer—close to the end of a great night with the best person in the world. A night I don’t want to end.
With a chuckle, I slow up. “You win, Tink! I give up!”
She eases to a walk, and when she turns to face me, she wears a brilliant smile. “You’re slow, Lachlin.”
No, she’s just that fast.
We graduated from the eighth grade together today. She wore a blue dress she and her mother had bought in Louisville last month. Scarlett had whispered to me before the ceremony that she hated how tight the dress was, making her feel like she couldn’t breathe, and that the material against her skin made her itch and fidget. She despised the dress so much that I kept it to myself how beautiful she looked—with the way the deep blue of the dress matched her eyes.
But how she looked then was nothing compared to how she looks now—pieces of her black hair falling from a sloppy ponytail, freckles showing on her shoulders from a tank top, and mud on her favorite pair of ripped jeans.
“What time do you want to head home?” I ask.
“Soon.” There’s sorrow in her tone, as if she’s also sad this night has to end. “Dad’s been waking up around five the past couple of weeks. Sometimes he cracks open my door to check on me before going downstairs.”
Scarlett’s dad hates me. Always has. It’s because I’m a Lachlin and everyone in our town believes that means I’m trash and trouble. Also, the whole town thinks I’m cursed. Her dad doesn’t want her anywhere around me. Has even said so to my face. He can’t keep us away from each other at school, but he’s told Scarlett, any other time, I’m off limits.
But Scarlett and I are friends, best friends, so she sneaks out her window and climbs down to hang out with me. Most nights, I toss rocks at her window to let her know I’m ready, but tonight she was out her window and dangling from a tree branch as I crossed the street from my trailer to her house.
“I think Glory and I talked once about caterpillars