“That means we did our jobs,” Bryson said.
“Does this mean we can call on both of you to be judges?” Mrs. Breaux asked.
The bell rang just in time, saving them from having to answer.
She and Bryson were ushered to the chemistry class. It took the tenth graders a bit longer to warm up to them, but by the end of the class period, they were working together to answer questions as if they’d practiced it.
Once they were done, Ms. Douglass, who introduced herself as a friend of Bryson’s mother, and Cheryl Anne, the Career Day coordinator, thanked them profusely for participating.
“I think we should take this act on the road,” Evie said as they made their way to the Jeep. She gestured to the duffel he carried. “Chi Chi, of course, will be the star.”
“Chi Chi? There has to be a better name,” Bryson said.
“If you wanted a better name, you should have named him.”
“Still annoying,” he said as he put the duffel in the back of the Jeep.
Evie chuckled as she went around to the passenger side of the car. Bryson started the car the moment she secured her seat belt, but instead of backing out of the parking spot, he let it idle. He draped his wrist over the top of the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.
“Everything okay?” Evie asked.
He looked over at her. After a breath, he asked, “Would you like to come home with me?”
Evie did a double blink.
“Notmyhome,” Bryson said quickly. “I mean, not my current home in New Orleans. My childhood home. Here.”
She wouldn’t deny that she was a little disappointed that his invitationwasn’tto join him at his home in New Orleans. Now that she’d decided falling back in love with him was inevitable, she wanted to skip straight to the good part. Although, with Bryson, nearly every part had been the good part. This time they would have the chance to make up for the one aspect they’d gotten wrong.
He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her answer.
“I would never pass up the chance to see where you grew up,” Evie said. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The drive from the high school to the turnoff that would take them to his parents’ home was about eight minutes, and in that time Bryson had thought up at least a dozen reasons to make a U-turn and head back to New Orleans.
His heart rate rose as they drove along the gravel driveway, an agitated prickle moving across his skin when the massive oak tree he used to climb as a kid came into view. Even in the winter, when its branches were still bare, the trunk was positioned in such a way that it hid the house from view. But the moment they rounded the curve, there would be no more hiding.
You can still turn around.
An unsettling sensation planted itself in the pit of his stomach. Hadn’t he decided years ago that he would no longer allow anyone—including himself—to make him feel ashamed of where he’d come from? His parents had workedhard for that house. It may not be a mansion in a gated community with a golf course and private security, but it had kept him safe and secure throughout his childhood. It continued to provide that same safety and security for his parents.
He continued driving.
They made the curve around the tree, and the house came into view. Bryson drove into the spot where his dad usually parked his truck, next to the piece of painted driftwood his mother had repurposed to serve as a border for one of her many flowerbeds.
“This is so charming,” Evie said.
He replayed her words, searching for a hint of deceit or feigned sincerity, but there was none.
Had he really expected Evie to belittle his home? She’d proven again and again that she wasn’t that type of person, yet for a moment, he’d prepared himself for derision.
He tried to see the house through the eyes of someone who had grown up in a mansion.
The two-bedroom gray clapboard structure with white shutters and a galvanized steel roof was tiny but quaint, with a porch that spanned the front of the house. Bryson had paid for the porch to be reinforced with new pillars, but his dad refused to let them put a railing because then he wouldn’t be able to sit on the edge and let his legs dangle off the side, one of his favorite pastimes.
Evie got out of the car and headed straight for his mother’s flower garden.
