Chapter Four
Nora
Firebrook Valley
Tucked in a corner booth with Palila, Emma, and Zion, I smiled, happy to simply be there. My sneakers were scuffed with dirt from the path behind the restaurant, and my knees were scabbed from climbing the big rock by the creek yesterday. Summer in Firebrook Valley was freeing.
In Boston, I was the girl who didn’t care about the right stuff.
I didn’t watch YouTube or TikTok. I didn’t wear the clothing the popular kids did.
I wasn’t athletic enough for any team to want me.
Nor was I smart enough for the self-proclaimed brainiacs to choose to study with.
I skirted the fringe of several social groups.
There, I was always measured and somehow not good enough, but included only because my father was rich.
In Firebrook Valley, people liked me, not because of who I was, but because .
. .just because. I could climb trees, race bikes down the hill behind Mabel’s, and claim I could read my horse’s thoughts without anyone acting like that was strange.
Palila was telling a story about how her brother Kai was lecturing Mr. Pelletier on how flammable the old hay in his barn was. “He thinks he’s already a firefighter,” she said with an eye roll.
“But he’s also probably right,” Emma said for about the fifteenth time.
“You would agree with him,” Palila stated. “Stop crushing on my brother.”
Emma scowled. “I’m not.” After a moment, she added, “Everyone likes firefighters.”
“He’s not one yet,” Palila stressed, her voice rising. “How would you feel if I had a crush on your brother?”
Cackling, Emma said, “Tim? You can have him. I thought having a lawyer as a father was bad enough, but Tim’s worse. My father negotiates. Tim states the rules like he’s in charge. Please, take him now.”
I smiled, because I knew Emma loved her brother, but she also wasn’t wrong that he was a stickler for following the rules.
Over the years, he’d often asked me if my parents knew where I was .
. . only recently had I begun to ask him what he’d do if he found out that they didn’t.
Thankfully, he didn’t have a response for that.
Zion surfaced from scarfing a plate of French fries to say, “Hay is highly flammable.”
Emma, Palila, and I exchanged a look and burst out laughing. Zion smiled and it was impossible to tell if his comment had been serious or not. He was smart, but when it came to conversations, he was often a step behind. It was both predictable and adorable.
I leaned toward him. “That’s what’s important.”
He nodded. “And Kai is brave. Mr. Pelletier scares me.”
“Me too,” I said to make him feel better.
Mr. Pelletier lived alone on a farm my father kept offering to buy.
I was there once when an exchange between them became heated, but Mr. Pelletier had looked over at me then lowered and calmed his tone.
He came across as gruff, but maybe he was sad that he’d never had kids and his wife left him for a plumber she met online.
I heard someone say she was in Maine. Mr. Pelletier said she was dead to him.
He’s not scary, just grumpy.
“Kai’s not afraid of anyone,” Emma said and Palila groaned.
I laughed, but my eyes kept drifting to the door.
Near the napkin dispenser, there was a taped-up piece of loose-leaf paper: Rugby Team Tutoring, Tuesday and Thursday.
It was Evan’s handwriting. He’d convinced the biggest, toughest guys in the area that it would look good on their college applications if they mentored the middle schoolers.
I think he also bribed them with free food from Mabel.
Either way, kids from Firebrook Valley and some of the surrounding towns came to Mabel’s for tutoring.
I heard Mabel bragging that not only were the tutors doing better in school since the program started, but they were also watching out for the younger kids more.
Evan had a way of inspiring those around him to do and be better.
He could have looked down on the locals for not having the expensive education he had, but instead he quietly guided them toward wanting more for themselves and helping each other reach those goals.
The door of the restaurant opened, and I sucked in a breath as Evan walked in.
My pre-teen heart raced, and I sank deep in my chair, hoping no one would notice that my face was now flushed beet red. Darting another look at him didn’t help calm my nerves.
He’s perfect.
Tall.
Muscled.
His hair was tucked beneath a backward baseball cap and his T-shirt stretched tight as he moved.
All eyes turned toward him because he was beautiful in a way a perfectly sculpted statue at a museum was.
His smile was easy, friendly, and it warmed the room.
Everyone in Firebrook Valley loved him. Look at his eyes. Those lashes. Those dimples.
Sigh.
My father aside, I couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to know him.
Evan had gotten his driver’s license last month, and since then he’d driven Mabel’s delivery van for free and encouraged the other teens to as well.
He should be on a poster above my bed.
With a border of little pink hearts around it.
He looked over and even though our eyes met for no more than a millisecond, I blushed from my head to my toes. Mortified, I slipped even deeper into my seat.
He walked to the counter. Mabel slid him a lemonade without asking. “You’re late, Holliston. The shipment from Evie came in. Lemonades and tonics. Your friends are unloading in the back.”
Evan grinned and my heart did a little flip. “On it.”
He glanced around the room and nodded at a couple of the older girls giggling near the jukebox. They tittered at his attention, but he didn’t seem to notice. He headed toward the kitchen door as if their adoration was no big deal.
Did he even know how many of them also dreamed of having a poster of him?
I stared at my cookie like it had personally betrayed me. Palila elbowed me. “You’re doing it again.”
“Am not.”
“You are. Your cheeks are the color of Mrs. Higgins’s lipstick.”
Emma leaned in. “She’s fine. Everyone crushes on Evan. He’s–Evan.”
Zion snorted. “He’s sixteen. That’s ancient.”
“Sixteen isn’t ancient,” Palila argued. “My cousin married a man who was thirty-one and they surf all day. As a job. At least, that’s what my mom says. I don’t see how you can get paid for surfing.”
Zion blinked. “Old people can surf. How hard can it be? You’re standing on a board in the water. Wow. Impressive.”
“I’m not crushing,” I said quickly, even though we all knew I was lying. Burkes didn’t moon over Hollistons. We weren’t supposed to care about them at all. But looking at Evan, I didn’t see a Holliston. I saw a boy who’d always been kind to me and just happened to also be gorgeous.
All three of them looked at me. Zion raised one eyebrow. Emma slowly took another bite of a fry. Palila said, “Sure.”
“He’s nice,” I mumbled. “To everyone.”
Last week, I’d watched him sit in the corner booth with Mr. Torres, the gas station owner, going over receipts.
Mr. Torres’s hands were shaking a little because he’d messed up the books again, was having issues with his taxes, and couldn’t afford an accountant.
Evan had told him he was taking an accounting class online and would love to look over his paperwork.
Under the guise of wanting to practice what he’d learned, Evan had helped Mr. Torres balance his books and fill out some tax forms. I overheard Evan thanking him for letting him practice what he was learning.
Was it weird that a grown man trusted a teenager to help him with a tax issue? If you thought so, you didn’t know Evan. When they were done, Mr. Torres stood up straighter, slapped Evan on the back, and said, “Evan, you saved me a headache and my marriage.”
Evan only shrugged and said, “You would’ve figured it out. But if you want to repay me, Mabel’s brakes are a little squeaky.”
“Consider it done.”
That was Evan. He brought people and resources together in a way that made him one of them rather than the son of a billionaire.
A little while later, the older teens came through carrying crates of Evie’s lemonades and tonics.
Tim, Kai, Owen, and Chay followed Evan as the bottles in the crates clinked like music.
Kai was pretending one crate weighed a thousand pounds.
“Are we done yet?” he groaned dramatically. “My arms are falling off.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Pretend you’re carrying someone out of a fire and that they get heavier every time you whine.”
Evan was right in the middle, laughing when Owen pretended to drop one and steadied the crate without making a fuss. “Oh, wait, mine is light. I must be stronger than you.”
I chuckled. Evan heard it, caught me watching and gave the tiniest nod, as if we shared a secret. My heart did that stupid flutter thing it always did around him. I hated that flutter, mostly because it never listened when I told it to stop.
Then some kid from the next table, Darryl, who thought he was funny because he was thirteen, leaned over and flicked a sugar packet at me. “Hey, Burke, you gonna cry if it hits you?”
The packet bounced off my arm. I tensed, unused to feeling anything but acceptance in Firebrook Valley.
Palila opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Evan was there.
He didn’t rush; he put down his crate and walked over as if he were heading for the counter.
He could have confronted Darryl. He certainly had enough friends there to back him up.
If he wanted to, he could have run Darryl right out of the restaurant, but that wasn’t who Evan was.
He stopped, picked up the sugar packet, and dropped it back on Darryl’s table without looking at him.
It was like watching a grown-up move a toy out of the driveway so no one tripped. “Waste of sugar,” he said calmly. Then he glanced at me and winked. Darryl pretended not to notice. Zion leaned toward me and said, “Does everyone like you?”
I chose not to tell him that my popularity didn’t extend beyond the town’s limits. Instead, I met Darryl’s gaze and shot him what I hoped he read as a kind smile. He was only a year older than us and was sitting by himself.
Once I thought about it, I realized that was usually the case. His family had moved away from Firebrook Valley for a few years only to move back a few months earlier.
I looked from him to my three friends who wordlessly, grudgingly agreed with me. Emma waved to Darryl. “Come sit with us.”
Suspicious that we might have been messing with him, Darryl didn’t move. So, I added, “If you have a bike, we’re going to ride to the candy store after this. You can come.”
Darryl looked us over again, then nodded, rose to his feet and joined us.
As if nothing at all had occurred, Palila began complaining about Kai again and I glanced over to where Evan had gone. He was heading back by our table again. Our eyes met. He didn’t smile big like the older girls wanted him to. He gave me this small look of approval.
It wasn’t flirty. It was better. It was: I see you.
My stomach flipped so hard I almost dropped my lemonade. I couldn’t breathe right. I couldn’t think. My whole body felt like it was buzzing and melting at the same time, much like when you jump in the lake and the cold hits all at once. Had he spoken to me, I wouldn’t have been able to answer.
Palila whispered, “You okay?”
I nodded, which was a lie. I wasn’t okay. I had a milk shake for a brain.
Evan carried another crate to the counter and laughed with Mabel about something, before wiping down a table as if it were normal for a sixteen-year-old, billionaire rugby star to be happy cleaning up after others.
Right before he left, he paused at the door. His large frame silhouetted against the summer sun. He looked back, smiled, and I’m sure every female sighed longingly, certain that look was for them.
I took a sip of Evie’s lemonade and welcomed the zing. Sharp and sweet. It tasted like summer and possibilities.