No. Not if. Todaywasthe day.
Waves of nervousness rolled through me all morning no matter how much relaxation breathing I did. I took a shower, spent extra time shaving my legs. I even exfoliated. Then I gave myself a blowout and perfected each lash with mascara. If Silas turned me down, it wouldn’t be for lack of effort.
As I was dressing in a green v-neck T-shirt and my best-fitting cutoff jean shorts, Silas’s deep voice resounded from the living room. Bo and Jenny were leaving with Anna. When I heard the front door shut and the house go quiet, I checked myself one more time in the mirror. I grabbed the scrapbookoff the top of the dresser and took a deep breath before walking out of my room.
Silas was on the couch, putting on socks like he was about to leave. He looked up, expressionless. “I’m going to spray weed killer on the fence lines so the vines don’t grow back.”
I walked over, sat next to him, and placed a hand on his arm. His gaze dropped to the scrapbook and back up to me. He didn’t know what was inside. I could see that on his face.
“Can I talk to you before you go?”
“You bet.” His words were flat and lifeless.
Sigh. Something had happened last night, but I didn’t know what. I’d planned on talking to him before I went to bed. But when he and Anna came in from outside, Silas was stiff and standoffish again. I’d let my doubts get the better of me—maybe Momma was wrong. Maybe he hadn’t been in love with me after all. Maybe he was still so hung up on Christy that he couldn’t see past her. And I’d chickened out.
Then I lay in bed half the night running through all the things Sophie would’ve said if she were here. Cowgirl Up. No pain, no gain. Go big or go home. This is where the rubber meets the road. She also said stuff like, “It’s never too late to give up” and “The light at the end of the tunnel might be an oncoming train.” But I was choosing to believe she’d go with a motivational cliche at the moment. She had a hundred of them and the knack for pulling the perfect one out at exactly the right time. And the courage to execute them. Sophie wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even the cancer that killed her.
What I needed right now was to channel my best friend’s tenacity.
I bit my lip, determined. I couldn’t let Silas’s and my relationship regress. I was going to take this bull by the horns and wrestle it to the ground. Wherever I landed when it was over was up to Silas.
I scooted closer, and a breath hitched in his throat. Igripped his elbow, pulling him farther back onto the couch. Then I turned, purposely resting my knee on his thigh. He scowled, but I didn’t let myself analyze it.
My gaze locked with his as I picked up his arm and put it around my shoulders. His frown deepened, but he didn’t pull his arm back. I snuggled in as close as I could get until our sides melded together, then I laid the book across our laps. “I found this in Momma’s attic yesterday.” I flipped the cover open.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “What is this?”
Deep breath. “It seems that my daddy took up scrapbooking when you were in college.”
He glanced at me, his gray eyes so vulnerable, and then back to the book. I turned the pages, letting him take them all in. There was no surprise on his face as he studied them. Why would there be? This was a documentation of his life. He’d already lived it.
“Why didn’t I know you came to my dad’s funeral?”
He stared at the book, but he wasn’t actually looking at it. “I didn’t want to see you with Billy. So I stood in the back and slipped out before the prayer ended.”
I’d expected it, but it didn’t make the punch hurt any less.
He flipped another page.
When we got to the end, I pointed to the date of the final article. “Why does this stop during your junior year? Did you not compete your last year in school?” The question had niggled at me since yesterday.
He pulled his arm from around me, flipped the book shut and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he leaned his elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor. But I was running this meeting. Not him. And quiet, closed-off Silas was not on my agenda. So I set the book aside, pushed his knees apart and slid onto his lap.
He was tense, wary, and I hated that we were back at this place.
I trapped his face between my hands. “Talk to me. No more of this holding back nonsense.” Then I took a page out of his book and pressed my nose up against his, our lips millimeters apart. “Please tell me what happened.”
He shook his head, but I held on tight. A vein in his jaw twitched beneath my fingertips.
“Silas,” I breathed and my lips parted. Then I did the most terrifying thing of my entire life. I stepped off a ledge, no parachute, and smashed my lips against his.
His lips were warm and soft. But they were statue still. Not a single hint of returning my affections.
My stomach started a thousand-foot drop, but I pulled it back. I was not giving up that easily. I wanted this too much. For me. For Anna. For all of us.
“Please.”I clenched his shirt in my fists, pulling him closer, trying anything to gain entrance. Still nothing. I pushed harder, begging, my lips urgent against his. But he was Fort Knox on complete lockdown. He wasn’t going to kiss me back. The realization sliced right between my ribs and into my heart with a hard twist. And like a dying person barely hanging on, my heart stopped—started—then stopped.
This summer, Silas had single-handedly put me back together piece by piece. But with this one moment of rejection, I was fragile glass all over again.
