Prologue
RHODES
PAST, AGE THIRTEEN
“What was it like?” Fallon whispered as the SUV bounced along the gravel road. There was a reverence in her voice, as if she were talking about God or some great work of art on a museum wall.
But we definitely weren’t.
I couldn’t seem to get that wide, cheesy smile off my face as Fallon’s mom drove us through the night, casting the occasional look back through the rearview mirror the way all moms seemed to do.
My stomach swirled like I was on one of those carnival rides that spun round and round, pressing you against the wall. Then my grin got wider.
“You know when you’re on a rollercoaster and your stomach dips?”
Fallon nodded, her lightly curled hair swishing into her face as her eyes shone.
“It was like that.” I collapsed against the far back SUV seat with a sigh.
Fallon tucked her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. “I knew Felix liked you. I knew it.” She kept her voice low, whether it was to keep her mom from hearing or just her typical soft-spokenness, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past my lips as my stomach did another of those swirls. I hoped he liked me. But what I really wanted was for him to ask me out. Maybe we’d go to the movies. Or walk downtown holding hands.
I could still feel the press of his lips against mine for the count of one, two, three in the dark of the closet in Owen’s basement.
We’d had seven minutes in that closet. Mostly, we’d talked.
About Felix’s spring-break trip to the coast and mine to New York.
But then he’d gotten quiet, leaned in, and—
“Did he use his tongue?” Fallon whispered in the dark of the SUV.
“No,” I squealed, jerking upright.
Our eyes met, and we both burst out laughing.
Mrs. Colson’s gaze flicked briefly from the road to the rearview mirror. “What’s gotten into you two?”
Her question only made us laugh harder. I collapsed against Fallon as we giggled, not even sure what we were laughing about.
Fallon and I spoke in a language that was all ours.
Even our laughter had a sound that was ours alone.
With how close our families were, she was more sister than best friend at this point.
The fact that my family didn’t have any relatives in Sparrow Falls only made the Colsons that much more important. We’d bonded, creating a ragtag group that was our chosen family, spending Thanksgivings and Christmases together.
When my parents moved us from New York to Sparrow Falls six years ago, my little sister and I had not been pleased. We had lives in the city. Friends and school. The last thing we’d wanted to do was move to a town of three thousand people in Middle-of-Nowhere, Oregon.
But I’d slowly fallen in love with it. And Fallon was a huge part of that. With her easy, wide smile despite her shyness, and how she welcomed everyone—even the new kid from New York, who everyone looked at a bit funny—we’d fallen into an easy friendship. And she was the best part of Sparrow Falls.
But Felix Hernandez might give her a run for her money with his dark brown hair, tanned skin, and soulful amber eyes. Just thinking about him made my skin flush hot, like I’d just stepped out into a blistering summer day.
Fallon let out a longing sigh. “With my brothers, I’ll probably never get a first kiss.”
I sent her a sympathetic smile but didn’t argue.
Fallon had three older brothers. One by blood, Copeland.
One adoptive, Shepard. And one foster, Trace.
Her mom and grandma, Lolli, were always taking in kids who needed homes.
Most came and went, some staying for as little as just a few days.
But Cope, Shep, and Trace were permanent, leaving Fallon with lots of overprotectiveness in her life.
“Is there someone you want to kiss?” I asked. Fallon kept those kinds of feelings to herself most of the time. And her shyness kept her from talking to many of the boys in our class.
Even in the dark, I saw her cheeks flame. “I guess not. Most of the guys in our year are jerks.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. “You’ve got a point.” I might have snagged the only decent one.
Mrs. Colson pulled to a stop, putting the SUV in park and turning to face us. “First stop for the giggle brigade.” Her gaze flicked to me, warmth spreading across her face. “I’m glad you two had fun.”
Fallon’s mom had become like a second mother to me over the past few years, and I swore she knew something had happened at that party. Mom radar. I felt my cheeks heating and fought not to duck my head.
Fallon bit her bottom lip to stave off another burst of giggles and leaned closer. “Call me tomorrow. We can go to the river, and you can tell me everything.”
“Right after breakfast.” My dad had a thing about Sunday breakfasts. He would make a massive spread with pancakes or waffles, even crepes if he was feeling fancy. There were no phones or other interruptions allowed. Family time.
It was one of the reasons he’d moved us to Sparrow Falls. Even though he had a big job as a financial planner to lots of hotshot businesspeople, he hadn’t wanted us to get sucked into that world. So, he’d moved us here. Finally, I wasn’t mad about it.
Fallon threw her arms around me in a huge hug, grabbing me tightly. “I don’t know how you’re going to sleep.”
Another laugh bubbled out of me. “I probably won’t.”
Unfastening my seat belt, I clambered out of the SUV. “Thanks for driving me home, Mrs. Colson.”
“Anytime, Rhodes,” she said as the front door to my house opened.
“Thanks, Nora,” my mom called from the doorway.
Mrs. Colson gave Mom a wave and a smile. With as much time as Fallon and I spent together, they were used to this back-and-forth trade-off of kids. “Want to hit up yoga tomorrow afternoon?”
“Only if we can make a stop at the bakery afterward,” Mom shot back.
Mrs. Colson laughed. “You always have the best ideas.”
I jumped down, my sandal-clad feet hitting the gravel. The full moon illuminated the house in a silvery hue. My mom had fallen in love with the ancient Victorian on a trip out here with my dad. He’d, of course, found a way to make it hers.
I’d always been a little self-conscious of the structure with its separate guesthouse that sat on a good twenty acres, the nearest neighbor barely visible.
It was different than most of the other homes in Sparrow Falls.
The downtown area was full of adorable Craftsman-style creations.
Outside the town limits, you found sprawling ranch homes.
But as I practically skipped up the walkway, I had to admit the house was beautiful.
It looked like something out of a fairy tale with towers and steeples.
But even with all its intricate beauty, it never felt cold.
Part of that was the sprawling gardens my mom worked tirelessly at maintaining.
But more than that, it was the love inside the home’s walls.
The moment I was within arm’s reach, my mom pulled me into her embrace. She squeezed me hard, rocking me back and forth.
“Mom,” I protested, but it was muffled against her chest.
“Let me have this moment,” she argued. “My baby went to her first boy-girl party. Before I know it, you’ll be driving, drinking, and moving out of the house.”
I groaned. “I’m thirteen, not thirty.”
Mom sniffed exaggeratedly as she released me but slipped her arm around my shoulders. “I’m going to blink, and you’ll be there.”
I just shook my head. “We’ve still got some time. Breathe.”
My mom laughed. “I’ll try. Come on. I made cocoa.”
It didn’t matter that the days were slipping into the seventies and eighties; I’d take my mom’s hot cocoa anytime.
It was the kind she made from actual cocoa powder, mixing in sugar and other secret ingredients.
Plus, as hot as the days could get in the high desert of Central Oregon, the nights got cold.
“Marshmallows?” I asked hopefully.
She grinned down at me. “Do I look like an idiot?”
“Definitely not,” I said with an echoing smile.
My mom kept her arm around me as we walked through the entryway and down the hall toward the kitchen.
Intricate woodwork bracketed us on both sides, but it all acted as a sort of frame for the whimsical wallpaper.
This hallway was home to a magical fairy scene, complete with a sparkly sheen to the fairies’ wings.
When my dad had seen Mom’s choice, he’d simply shaken his head and grinned. “My girl has to make it magic.”
As we reached the kitchen, the faint scent of chocolate teased my nose, and Mom finally released me. I slid onto a stool at the wide kitchen island and wrapped my hands around the Alice in Wonderland-esque mug with its misshapen body and curlicue handle.
I closed my eyes and took a testing sip. The perfect balance of chocolate and sugar hit my tongue. “The best,” I mumbled.
When I opened my eyes, it was to find my mom studying me. Her gaze roamed over my face in slow sweeps as if she were excavating the surface layer by layer to discover what hid behind it. I had the sudden urge to bolt for my room.
Then she began blinking rapidly as her eyes shone. Panic skidded through me. “Mom?”
She waved her hand in front of her face. “It’s nothing. I’m just emotional. My little girl’s growing up.”
The panic fled as my lips curved. “It was one party.”
“Your first.” Her hands wrapped around her matching mug. “Were there any other firsts tonight?”
Heat hit my cheeks fast and hard as my gaze dropped to my hot cocoa.
Mom’s hand covered mine. “You know you can always talk to me. I’ve been there. First parties, first crushes, first kisses…”
I bit my bottom lip, and then it all came out in a rush.
“Felix kissed me. I like him. Like really like him. He’s nice and cute, and every time I’m close to him, I feel like I’m on one of those Tilt-A-Whirl things.
But he didn’t say anything when we left.
What if he doesn’t like me back? What if I’m a bad kisser? What if—?”