After they’d packed everything away in the bed of his ancient truck, Hudson and Kenna strolled back toward the field. Even the movie already flickering to life couldn’t distract him from the mountain range residing in his stomach over the thought of finally telling her…everything.
“Oh, hey,” she said and looked over at him. “I was thinkin’, maybe we wanna go to State a day early? So you can show me around a bit. I know I already got the tour but…” She shrugged and elbowed him in the side as she shot him a smile. “It’s not the same. You’ll be able to tell me where to get mac and cheese exactly how I like it.”
Momma Sally’s on Jefferson—creamy and cheesy and a little crunchy from the breadcrumbs on top…just how Kenna loved it. And yeah, it should’ve been him showing her around, guiding her to all the places he knew she’d love because he knewherso damn well. But it wasn’t going to be, and he no longer had the option or the ability to change that.
“Maybe,” he said noncommittally. He’d been doing a lot of that lately—being evasive as hell—and he hated every minute of it. From the narrowed-eyed look Kenna shot him, she did too.
“What’s your deal?” She backhanded him in the stomach, a little more force behind it than her usual playful jabs. “You’ve been acting all squirrelly any time I bring up Starkville. You afraid I’m gonna ruin your street cred or something when we’re both at State?” She laughed, but the sound came out tense and stilted.
They’d been friends long enough that he could sense the frisson of unease running through her at the thought that this might be something that could come between them. He hoped like hell it didn’t, because if them finding a rhythm at the same school put them on shaky ground, they didn’t stand a chance against what was actually coming.
He looked over at her, saw the apprehension in her eyes, and hated that he’d been the one to put that emotion there. He wanted to set her mind at ease, but he feared the answer he gave her wouldn’t just crack her foundation, but make the whole thing crumble to the ground.
Which meant he was right back where he started… And round and round he went.
Enough.
He cleared his throat and wrapped his fingers around her elbow, tugging her toward him. “C’mere with me for a minute.” He pulled her under the bleachers and away from prying eyes…and ears.
Kenna cast a suspicious glance around their surroundings. And for good reason. People came down here to do one of three things: get drunk, get high, or get fucked. Even now, he could hear the sounds of two people going at it on the other end of the stands, hidden from their eyes thanks to the darkness.
“Ummm…” She lifted her gaze, looking up at him with confusion written all over her face. “You’re kinda freakin’ me out. What’s goin’ on, Hud?”
“I just…” He ran a hand through his hair and over his face. Pacing in front of her, he tried to find the right words. Words that had evaded him for months. “I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you for a while, tryin’ to find the right way to say it. But I realized there’s no good way, and I just need to do it already.”
Kenna’s brows drew down, her forehead creased as she watched him. There was trepidation and something else he couldn’t quite identify in her gaze. “It can’t be any worse than the time you lost my tiger’s-eye marble at the bottom of the lake.”
Oh, it was infinitely worse than that, and that marble had been given to her by her granddad shortly before he died of a heart attack. The only reason she didn’t still hate him for losing it was because he’d searched for that fucker for days—sunup to sundown—until his skin had become shriveled and clammy. When they’d had to leave the cabin—still without her beloved marble—she’d punched him in the stomach and told him the next marble he found belonged to her.
He’d lost count of how many he’d given her over the years since.
When he didn’t even crack a smile at the reminder of their one and only true fight, the grin on her face fell. “Hud…”
He stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs brushing along her collarbone. A friendly touch bordering on something more—riding that line he’d perfected over the years. “You know you’re my best friend.”
She nodded, even though he didn’t need an answer. Their friendship was something neither of them had ever questioned. Even when it’d been tested to the limits—by outside forces and their own stupid, fucked-up ideas—it was never something fragile or uncertain.
“I just…I want you to know that before—”
“Mac!” Will yelled from around the corner, walking along the side of the bleachers. Then, quieter, just a grumble more to herself than anyone else, “Pain-in-the-ass baby sister won’t pick up her damn phone…”
“Shit.” Kenna looked from Hudson to where Will walked past, having no idea they were just out of sight. “Hold that thought, okay?”
She stepped out from under the bleachers, and Hudson followed. “What’s Nat done now, Will?” Kenna asked, arms crossed.
Willow whipped around, her eyes narrowing when she glanced behind the two of them to the bleachers. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“You did, so hurry up and spit it out.”
Willow’s eyebrows lifted, and from the look she shot them, it was clear what she thought she’d interrupted. Instead of commenting on it, she said, “Two guesses as to where our troublemakin’ brat of a sister is headed.”
Kenna’s forehead creased before her eyebrows shot up. “It better not be the Prichetts’ barn.”
“Yeah, well, if there’s one thing she’s consistent with, it’s that she’ll get into the only thing she’s absolutely not supposed to.”
“Why the hell is she so obsessed with that run-down shack?”
“You and I both know tellin’ her no is like wavin’ a red flag in front of a bull. That girl hears the word and revs her engine. Tellin’ her noandthat just walkin’ inside the pieced-together pile of rotted wood is a death sentence? Doin’ it gives her a hit of her favorite drug—adrenaline. Course she’s gonna do it. I’ve been callin’ her, but she’s not answerin’.”
