Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I chuckle to myself, smoothing my bejeweled red velvet dress. This thing is perfectly ridiculous. Group photo, posted. Davis, tagged in a comment. So he can witness the Goodwill masterpiece in all its glory.
Yes, I declined the ball fetching and after-date with him last night—mostly to appease my weirdly invested friends—but I flirted as much as I wanted. He’s fun and sweet. And actually straightforward.
When he DMs me, I jump at the opportunity.
The perfect distraction from Colonel Mustard.
More like Colonel Spicy Mustard because Austin looks so good in his costume.
The yellow ascot I bought him is nestled into his white button-up and tied to perfection.
Levi can be thanked for that, I’m sure. Austin’s sleeves are notably rolled down.
Khaki chinos. I didn’t even know he owned those.
Close-and-Touchy Austin was indeed a Thursday-only event.
In fact, he’s been distant and off tonight, still hasn’t told me what got him all wound up yesterday.
But I refuse to dwell—Future Sophie is still safely locked in the closet, and I will not allow his confusing behavior to ruin my perfect night.
Kit and Levi prance behind me like it’s just another evening in rich-person land.
She can’t help but look unnecessarily elegant in her thrift-store dress, navy trench coat, and peacock feather, and he’s no worse for wear in a purple tie and glasses.
I couldn’t find a purple suit, so I didn’t even get to embarrass him.
Mia is killing it in the black jumpsuit I bought her, pearls and all.
Over the top? Maybe. Do I regret it? Absolutely not.
I had tickets to a Hulvey concert on Halloween—unskippable.
Missing out on a chance to dress up was a bummer, so Austin is the best for this second chance at a night of costumes.
Haymitch searched high and low and found a green blazer to borrow.
He’s a sweetheart to go to such efforts for a random night out that I care about more than anyone else.
I sent a pic to his girl because that jacket and his red hair are worthy of commemoration.
And because a few hours without his baseball cap is straight historic.
I can’t believe we pulled this off in just five days. Our crew is the absolute best.
Levi drove us an hour across the Louisiana border to stroll down the boardwalk in Portside.
I guess Austin kept it a surprise for me because he knows I love that kind of thing, but it’s odd that everyone else knew the plan.
At least he warned me we’d be walking a bunch so I could wear my sneakers.
Only a hill and a railing separate this sidewalk from the inky black river below, and the danger of probable alligators adds a thrill.
For dinner we ate finger foods from the kiosks lining the street.
Austin treated me, which was random and sweet, and I got to try everything—always my favorite.
Stars shine in the clear sky. Enthusiasm and anticipation buzzes. I love nothing more than a new place and a new experience. So much possibility. I can’t stop singing “Good to Be Alive” by Jason Gray, lyric swapping what I see around me. And the one by Andy Grammer too.
Kit and Levi murmur behind me, probably holding hands like it’s the most magical thing in all the world. Mia and Haymitch bring up the rear. I bet Mia is twitching at playing caboose back there. We usually switch positions as we walk, but tonight no one has budged.
Austin starts hitting the back of his hand against the other palm. Not that again. I pull out my phone, but before I even unlock it—silence.
When I glance back, I expect to see the lovebirds gazing into each other’s eyes, but they’re gone. All four of them. I stash my phone and nudge Austin. The little ninjas—where did they go?
Austin stops to face me. One of his fidgeting hands reaches for mine.
My entire focus lasers to my fingers and palm, singing with electricity.
His huge, rough hand engulfs mine. It’s even sweeter felt and seen.
He holds my hand like it’s dainty and must be protected.
Then he adds his other hand over the top, so mine is completely sandwiched away.
All safe and warm inside. Forbidden contact—Thursday again.
Weird and wonderful Thursday. I’m all longing and terror. Doesn’t he get it? I can’t handle this.
“Sophie.”
Dread floods in as I lift my head. This is a new voice from Austin. I know his playful voice, pensive voice, football voice, stern voice. What is this? A deeper version of his affectionate voice?
“You’re so much more than a friend to me.” His eyes lock onto mine. “I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful. So curious and creative and playful. So golden and … alive.”
My lungs have stopped inflating, and the oxygen is not flowing. My mouth dries. Ambient sounds cease.
Strangers silently edge around us. He guides me to the side.
“I’ve been waiting to tell you because this—us—is a big deal to me. You’re a big deal to me. I had to wait for the right time. So I … I kinda freaked yesterday ’cause I’ve been planning this. It killed me to think of losing my chance with you.”