A slant of headlights cut across the parking lot. Dusk had fallen without my noticing; it was shocking how fast the world had shrunk to just me and Emery. My dad must have remembered me after all, except now the last thing I wanted to do was leave.
But it wasn’t Dad’s old Buick, it was a sleek black town car. It pulled alongside the far edge of the parking lot. The driver—tall and pale and dressed in black—got out.
“Miss Emery,” he called and waved her over.
“That’s Colin, Dad’s driver. He’s early. We’re supposed to stay until the fireworks.” Her eyes darted to me. “I have a feeling he’s here now because of Grant. Maybe bad news.”
“Or maybe good,” I said, and it felt like a lie.
Emery smiled gratefully, then looked sad again. “We’re supposed to go to Italy for the rest of the summer. I guess I won’t see you anymore.”
“I guess not,” I said, and yet another crack formed in my heart. There were so many, it must’ve been close to falling to pieces.
“I know!” Emery grabbed my arm. “You can write to me. Write to me, and then I’ll have your address, and I’ll write you back. Can you remember mine if I tell you?”
“Of course.”
“Yay! We’ll be pen pals! And even though it’s a long way away, let’s meet here next year. Next Fourth of July. Right on this rock. You want to?”
One year. It may as well have been a thousand, it felt so far away. She’d probably forget all about me, but it was my only chance, so I took it.
“Yes,” I said. “I want to.”
Emery’s face lit up with happiness at the idea of seeingmeagain, and that was the closest I’d come to crying all day.
She told me her address—a big house on the water, no doubt—andI committed it to memory as if it were the answer to the world’s most important question on an exam I must not fail.
The driver called her again, this time more urgently.
“Gotta go,” Emery said, walking backwards. “Write to me, okay?”
“I will.”
She gave me a little wave in the falling dark, then stopped and bent over a tall yellow flower—a daffodil with a bright yellow trumpet. Emery plucked it and ran back to me, breathless.
“You won’t forget me, will you, Xander?”
“I won’t,” I said. “Never.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Emery’s smile stole my breath and my heart right along with it. She pressed the flower’s sturdy green stem into my hand. “See you next year.”
I watched her go, watched her climb into the waiting car that looked so cold. Today had been cold and raw too, but Emery…she was everything warm and good, and I knew I’d remember her forever.
***
Emery, Age Thirteen
He forgot me.
It was the only explanation. I’d been coming to Brenton Park every year for three years. To the rock.Ourrock. And for three years, Xander was never here. This was the third year. The last year.
I can’t do this anymore.
I shifted on the hard stone. My butt was numb; I’d been sitting for hours—since this morning—because I didn’t want to risk missing him. But now the sun was sinking, and it was obvious that Xander wasn’t coming. Again.
