Chapter 21
Honey (Flashback)
May, Senior Year
It’s gone midnight and I can’t sleep. I went to bed over three hours ago, spending my night yet again in the same bleak bedroom as always, unlike the rest of my senior year who got to dance and sing and make memories I’ll never have.
At this point, they’re probably all at after-parties, engaging in God knows what to celebrate their final year.
Including Sawyer, who couldn’t believe I’ve never been allowed to go to prom before.
I’d be lying if I said I’d been thinking about our whole senior year at prom, because the only person plaguing my thoughts has been him. Wondering who he might’ve danced with, whether he got the crown for prom king like he wanted, what party he’s gone to with all his friends.
Which girls will be getting his attention tonight, while I’m locked away in my bedroom. Same old quiet, little Honey Goldman.
Ugh. Why do I have to care so much about him?
I know my parents don’t want me getting involved with boys for far more reasons than to stop me from worrying who they’re dancing with at prom, but I really wish I’d listened to them more now. At least I might be able to get some sleep then.
I throw my notebook down onto my bed and curl my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them to give myself a comforting hug.
I had to wait until my parents’ light went off before I could turn my lamp back on and pick up my notebook and pen to try to keep my mind off Sawyer and prom by writing a new story about Georgia Hart.
But alas, she offers me no escape tonight.
Not when I can’t help myself from writing her finally bumping into the brave and strong Noah Stetson—and then, boom, my mind instantly goes back to Sawyer.
Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against the wall, praying for exhaustion to sweep me into a slumber already. There’s a deep ache in my bones that proves I’m tired, but my mind isn’t ready to sleep yet—
Three taps sound at my window.
My eyes shoot open.
Normally, I’d blame it on the overgrown branches of the big oak tree that sits beside the house that like to dance about when the breeze picks up, but Father cut them back just the other week …
Hesitantly, I slip my legs out of the bed, seeking my slippers with my toes while keeping my eyes trained on the curtains that obscure the window.
When another three taps sound, I jump to my feet and shuffle to the window, my hand shaking as I close my fingers around the curtains.
Great, everyone else is out having a blast at prom and I’m about to be kidnapped or murdered.
My breath shudders out and I’m all too aware of how my heartrate has skyrocketed. Maybe the branches have grown back quicker than usual …
I take in a deep breath, clawing at whatever measly courage I have stored away before I yank back my curtains and—
There’s nothing there … Just the usual porch roof.
Then a stone hits my window.
Followed by another.
And another.
In the dark it takes a second for my eyes to adjust and focus in on where the stones are coming from. That’s when I see him. Sawyer.
Standing on the dirt driveway, he’s in the most dashing black suit with a bolo tie, and even with only the bright moonlight illuminating his edges, I can see how well it fits him, emphasising his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He must realise I’ve noticed him as he tips the hat he’s wearing up to me.
But why is he here?
I’m gaping at him, trapped in a stupor of disbelief, that I barely register his wave and the fact that he’s now running at a very fast speed towards my house.
There’s a light thud, a few seconds of silence, and then his head pops up over the porch roof, followed by his whole body as he scrambles onto it.
Quietly, Sawyer climbs up the roof until he’s outside my window, holding onto the edge of the windowsill.
He flashes that handsome, cheeky grin at me, and it blazes even in the darkness.
Hey, Blue, he mouths, then points at the handle of the window.
It takes me a moment to react, but I quietly unhinge the window, pushing it open enough that he can pop his head inside. He’s far too broad to climb through completely, though.
‘What are you doing here?’ I whisper.
He matches my volume, thankfully. ‘It’s senior prom, Blue.
Everyone deserves to go to prom. You’re missing out on too many wild and immoral ways.
’ The smile he flashes me this time is positively devastating.
His golden hair is a little mussed, a few strands clinging to his forehead with perspiration—from dancing, or the sweet drink I can smell on his breath with how close he is to me.
I’m instantly aware that I’m only wearing a cotton nightgown—nothing compared to the beautiful dresses I’m sure all the other girls were in tonight.
But the way Sawyer’s glassy eyes widen as they glance down to it, his expression dropping with them, suggests otherwise.
He swallows before raking his gaze back up my body, setting every inch of it alight.
Heat kindles in areas I’ve never experienced before.
Still, I fold my arms across my chest, as I’m aware I’m not wearing a bra. ‘Isn’t prom over by now? Shouldn’t you be at some party?’
‘None of it felt right without you, Blue.’ That makes my arms instantly drop, along with a weight in my chest. ‘Thought I’d bring prom to you, instead. Got my truck and speakers, a flask of punch, and look—’
He pauses to fish something from inside his suit jacket, clinging on to the windowsill tighter with his other hand.
When he yanks it out, every muscle in my body loosens and every care about my parents hearing disappears.
All that worry and fear slips away, as easily as a flowing stream.
Sawyer holds his present through the window, the amber light of my antique lamp catching off the edges of the powder blue petals and emerald leaves.
Pride paints Sawyer’s face. ‘Even got you a corsage to match your baby blues.’
The sudden tightness in my throat is unexpected, as is the trembling of my jaw, and it means I can’t quite manage any words in response.
Because I don’t think anyone’s ever thought about me like this before.
No one’s ever gone out of their way to do anything for me—mostly because I do what I can to stay out of people’s ways in the first place.
But still, that doesn’t mean I don’t secretly long for the kindness that’s so scarce in my life.
Except, Sawyer found a way to break through those walls with the simplest of gifts. Something that tells me I was the brightest thought in his mind tonight.
So, I hold out my shaking hand. His warm eyes lock with mine, and he wraps the corsage gently around my wrist. The quick, soft skim of his fingers against my skin has goosebumps breaking out across my arm.
Somehow, the contrast of the pale-blue rose, surrounded by speckles of baby’s breath and rich green leaves, has my golden skin glowing, and for a moment, I wonder if I might look pretty.
If only I wasn’t in my stupid nightgown.
‘I don’t have a dress,’ I admit afterwards, clutching an arm around myself.
‘Don’t need one. You look beautiful in that,’ he immediately replies, looking shocked even at himself for admitting such. I’m going to put it down to whatever he must’ve drunk, but there’s something raw about him tonight. Honest. Vulnerable.
And it makes me want to be too.
‘What if my parents find out?’ I ask shakily, though it’s not fear that’s making my heart race.
His gentle smile brings out the faintest of dimples—the ones I know I’m going to struggle to say no to.
The ones that have my stomach sparkling with possibility.
‘They won’t, I promise. I’ll have you back in an hour.
They’ll be none the wiser. C’mon, Blue, what would Georgia Hart do in this situation?
’ Sawyer reaches his hand into my room, his palm facing upward, all rough and waiting for mine. ‘Take a chance on me.’
It feels like a test—a tale one would read to children about making choices.
The daring prince arriving at the young princess’s window where she’s locked away in the supposed safety of her tower.
She’s being forced to choose between the love she’s always known, even though it’s caused her pain, or to dive into the unknown depths of the world outside for the small chance of finding a new, free, and unconditional kind of love.
But for me, there’s no choice at all. Because, even if it’s for one night only, I deserve a taste of happily ever after, and I know it starts the second I climb out this window.