Chapter 16 Past
I didn’t want to go home, and I knew Molly wasn’t back yet—but I could use that as an excuse to ride past Paul’s house. I grabbed my bike and headed toward town.
The wind on my face helped cool things off. I tried not to let my thoughts get the best of me. I told myself to focus on my shift at the soda shop tonight, wondering what Mom might be buying at the store—anything to keep my mind off what I was really doing.
But the truth was, the whole point of not going home was to see him.
I reached the edge of his yard and slowed down, scanning for any sign—movement in the window, his bike in the driveway, anything.
Nothing.
The same ache I felt at the diner crept back in—sharp, disappointing, familiar. I turned around in Molly’s driveway and started back. When I passed his house again, the tears came.
Anger, confusion, worry—all the emotions I’d been trying to push away rushed in at once.
I hoped the ride would dry the tear stains from my face. I really didn’t want Mom to see I’d been crying. I slowed my pace, giving myself time to breathe, to let the wind do its work.
At the very least, I needed to look like I had it together. Even if I didn’t feel it.
I had just passed the strawberry field when I caught sight of someone sitting near the edge.
I slowed down.
It was Paul.
I did a double take, convinced the summer heat was playing tricks on me. But no—it was him.
He was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, his head down.
I slowly set my bike in the grass and walked over to where he sat. “Paul?”
My voice came out softer than I expected—laced with both excitement and concern.
He looked up slowly.
Relief washed over me—then vanished just as quickly. A small cut sat just below his right eye, already starting to bruise.
I couldn’t hide my reaction. I gasped. “Paul! What happened to you? Did someone—”
He cut me off before I could spiral into full-blown panic mode.
Still fiddling with the blade of grass between his fingers, he let it drop and said, in a low, raspy voice, “No. Don’t worry… It was just a long night.”
He paused, his eyes avoiding mine.
“I’m sorry I missed our date. I wanted to be there.”
Something in his voice cracked on the word wanted—like it physically hurt him to say it.
I sat beside him. I wasn’t sure if I should grab his hand or just sit still.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said softly. “But… I was worried.”
He turned, his eyes meeting mine. “It wasn’t you. I swear it wasn’t.”
I couldn’t help but smile—just a little. His lips curled at the corners, his eyes softened.
Something had shifted. And I didn’t know what it was yet—but I wanted to.
For now, this was where he needed me to be.
We sat in silence for a moment. Then, slowly, he slipped his hand into mine as we let the day pass by.
Paul walked beside me as I pushed my bike. He stayed with me all the way to the edge of my driveway.
Mom’s car was back. I wondered if she’d driven by earlier and seen us sitting by the field.
As we stood there, I couldn’t help but think—the day hadn’t gone the way I hoped, but time with him was never wasted.
I still longed for a kiss, but with the weight of the afternoon hanging between us, it didn’t feel right.
And somehow, we both knew this wasn’t the memory we wanted tied to our first real kiss.
He reached for the bike, gently taking it from my hands, and laid it down in the grass.
Then he turned to me, pulled me into a long, deep hug.
I wanted to hold on forever.
He took a slow, steady breath, tightened his arms just a little, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
He held it there like if he let go, I might vanish.
I buried my face in his chest and breathed him in.
It was hot, but his warmth didn’t bother me.
Like him, I didn’t want this to end.
…
Eventually, we had to let go of one another.
I was still beaming when I walked inside. Being that close to Paul left me wanting more. I was still hot—not sure if it was the humidity or my emotions—but I needed to cool down.
I hopped in the shower for a quick rinse and started getting ready for work. I hadn’t realized how much time we’d spent at the strawberry field. Time ticks by differently when I’m with him.
I had to rush.
I tied my damp hair back into a neat braid and threw on my uniform. Worried I’d be late; I asked Mom to drive me and told her I’d call if I needed a ride home.
She didn’t mind, of course. We chit-chatted about a whole lot of nothing as we made our way to the parking lot.
Before I got out, she leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“I hope you have a good night and it’s not too crazy,” she said. “I love you lots.”
I smiled, opened the door, and stepped out.
Then I leaned back in through the open window and said, “Love you more.”
The soda shop was packed, just like every Friday night in Shay. I’d scooped so much ice cream my fingers had gone numb, and I kept glancing at the clock, waiting for the seven o’clock movie crowd to clear out. About 6:45, there seemed to finally be a lull, so I decided to start cleaning the counter.
Suddenly, the bell over the door rang again, I was half-lost in the hum of the jukebox and the smell of cleaning spray.
“Oh, hey, Bri.”
I looked up to see Sadie Andrews coming in with the rest of Shay High’s most popular girls—Hayden Sholts, Catherine and Carol Lang, and Mary Ann Tucker.
Sadie and I weren’t close, but we’d spent enough hours in drama club working on costumes—sharing finger pricks and laughs over bad fabric choices, I’d almost call her a friend.
I was just about to ask what they wanted when Carol’s voice drifted over, not even pretending to be a whisper. She and Hayden were leaning in close, giggling, and shooting me sideways glances. I caught Paul’s name more than once.
I ignored them and focused on Sadie. “What can I get you?”
“Chocolate shake,” she said with a quick smile.
I turned to the others, but Catherine and Carol were still wrapped in their “secret” conversation. Sadie stepped in. “Y’all! What do you want?”
The twins answered in unison, “Strawberry milkshake, no whipped cream or cherries.”
Hayden and Mary Ann ordered chocolate shakes, but Hayden couldn’t resist, “Carol? I thought you liked cherries.”
Carol smirked. “Oh, I only got extra cherries because they were Paulie’s favorite.”
Catherine chimed in, eyes locked on me. “I remember how you used to feed them to him.”
Heat climbed my neck, but I kept my voice even. “That’ll be seven dollars. I can offer you a discount if that’s too much.”
Sadie bit back a laugh, fake-coughing into her hand. The twins rolled their eyes, tossed a ten on the counter, and said, “Be sure to give Taylor that tip.”
When I handed them their shakes, I “accidentally” left the cherry on Carol’s. “Bye, Sadie,” I said with a genuine smile. Then, flatly, to the others: “Ladies.”
“Quality’s gone downhill since they hired that Yankee,” Catherine muttered as they pushed out the door. Sadie mouthed a quick “sorry” before following them. The door slammed shut.
Taylor popped out from the back and offered to finish cleaning if I wanted a break. I didn’t hesitate. My hands needed thawing, and so did my mood.
The Alabama heat hit me like a furnace, but I welcomed it. Music spilled from the jukebox through the open windows, and over it came a voice I’d know anywhere.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
And there was Paul, sitting on the picnic table like he’d been waiting all night.