Smoky Darling (Darling #1)

1. Elouise Age 7

“Move in, Lou’s up!” Brandon’s sneer goes straight into my chest, but I’m not gonna let him scare me away. Not today.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I step up to the chalk outline of home plate.

The other kids chuckle as they all take a few large steps forward.

Kick the ball. Just kick the stinkin’ ball and pretend it’s Brandon’s stupid face.

Pulling in a deep breath, I poof out my cheeks as I exhale.

Focus.

Brandon laughs as he shares a look with the kid guarding first base.

I squeeze my fists tighter. I’m making it to that freaking base.

“Just pitch the damn ball!” I shout the words, surprising us both.

His eyes narrow, “Whatever you say.”

Brandon spins the kickball one more time before he cradles it in his right hand, pulls his arm back, then sends the ball flying across the blacktop towards me.

I take a couple stutter steps forward, trying to time my strides perfectly.

Closer.

Closer.

One more step and I kick out with all my might, my toe connecting with the rounded rubber surface .

Except the ball doesn’t rise off the ground. Instead it skids across the blacktop, straight towards Brandon.

Crap!

Kids are already yelling about me being Out , but there’s no quitting. Not today. Not for me. So, I run.

My legs pump, moving as fast as I can towards the manhole cover marking first base.

Brandon shouts something, but I don’t listen. I just keep running.

Footsteps sound behind me, and I know Brandon’s chasing me so he can tag me out. But he hasn’t thrown the ball to the kid on first base so I have a chance.

The distance between me and my goal is shortening.

I’m going to make it!

A sudden shove to my back sends me flying forward.

The tips of my shoes scrape against the road as I try - and fail - to catch my balance. Instead of screaming, I feel the air freeze in my lungs as I brace for impact.

I have just enough time to extend my arms and close my eyes before my palms, then knees, slam into the unforgiving street. There’s a second of shock before the stinging pain hits my system.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry!

I’m surrounded by silence. Everyone waiting to see what I’ll do.

“Hey, Asshole!” My brother’s angry shout breaks the quiet.

My eyes are still pinched closed, but I can hear the sound of footsteps scattering in every direction. Everyone running for their lives.

Brandon might think he’s cool, because he’s a 5 th grader, but my brother is in middle school.

I want to watch them all flee like the cowards they are, but I’m afraid to move. If I don’t move, maybe the pain will go away.

Still trying to catch my breath, I focus my attention on the soft bounce bounce bounce of the dropped ball.

James crouches down next to me, “You okay, Lou?”

Opening my eyes, I nod, not sure I won’t cry if I try to talk out loud.

I hear more steps approach and I’m sure it’s Tony, my brother’s best friend. They’re always together .

“James, toss me that ball.”

Still on my hands and knees, my spine stiffens. That’s not Tony’s voice. It’s too deep. It’s… Ohmygod, it’s Beckett. Tony’s older brother.

Carefully, I turn my head to watch James scoop up the ball and underhand it towards the voice.

A shadow passes over me, and I have to keep turning my head to see all the way up to the person’s face.

My heart rate starts to beat wildly all over again. It’s definitely Beckett.

Except he’s not looking at me. No, he’s looking down the street.

“Brandon!” he booms.

His shout is so loud, I swear it echoes off the houses lining the street.

Another voice whispers an “oh shit” and I know Tony’s joined the group too.

Following Beckett’s line of sight, I see Brandon running through a yard two houses down.

Beckett lets out a grunt of effort, a moment before Brandon slows to look back at whoever called his name.

The kickball is already whistling through the air and my mouth drops open.

No way.

No way is that gonna hit him from this far away!

The timing is perfect. Freaking. Per. Fect.

Brandon’s just turned around when the ball hits him square in the face. He didn’t even have time to flinch.

And the sound of rubber meeting person is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever heard.

Brandon’s arms fly out to his sides, and he falls flat on his back, landing like a knocked over tree.

James and Tony both let out loud whoops of laughter but I’m still staring in stunned silence. Not believing what just happened.

When another moment passes, and Brandon doesn’t move, I hear myself whisper, “Is he dead?”

Beckett snorts then shakes his head, “Nah, just got the wind knocked out of him. Serves the fucker right. ”

Then Beckett looks down at me, and I forget how to breathe.

He’s so dreamy. His chocolate brown hair, his golden eyes, his-

Wait! He’s getting closer!

“Come on, let’s get you up.”

Beckett’s big hands slide under the armpits, and he lifts me off the ground like I’m some sort of doll. His tone is so kind, I almost forget that I just saw him smash another kid in the face with a kickball.

He waits until my feet are firmly planted beneath me before he lets go.

By now James and Tony are standing in front of me, checking out the torn knees of my jeans and the few spots of blood on my hands.

“It’s not so bad,” James smiles. But I know he’s just trying to make me feel better, because I saw his wince.

I nod at my brother, then muster up the rest of my courage to look Beckett in the eye. “Thank you.”

My voice is quiet and wobbly, but Beckett just shrugs. “No problem, Elouise.” Then he turns to our brothers. “You guys got it from here?”

The boys say something in reply, but I don’t hear it.

Elouise. He said my name. My full name!

Sure, our brothers have been best friends forever - and I’ve seen him a few times over the years - but I didn’t know he knew my name. My real name too, not just Lou, like most people call me.

And that night, lying in bed, with neon green Band-Aids on both my knees, I decide that I’m in love with Beckett Stoleman.