Page 86

I didn’t know exactly when I’d fallen in love with Oz. He was just always around. Since he was Cyrus’s best friend and our families were close, we’d spent much of our childhood with the Palmer crew. It was me, Reese, and Fancy, and then the boys, Cyrus, Ozzie, and Edison. Initially we all played together, daring one another to do stupid shit, but over time we split off. Reese and I were too grown at ten to hang out with a nine-year-old, plus Fancy was best friends with Darla Rooney.

Ozzie would come over to visit Cyrus almost every day, until one random Tuesday during summer break when he showed up to see me.

“Cyrus isn’t here,” I told Ozzie when I answered the door.

“Yeah, I know. He said he was gonna run errands with your dad today.”

“Then why are you here? Did you forget?”

“Nah, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out? Maybe walk to the river.”

“I wanna come!” Edison pushed past me. He hated being left out of stuff.

“No one wants to babysit you, Eddy,” I said.

“I’m not a baby. I’m eleven.”

“Maybe next time, Edison.” Ozzie playfully tagged my brother’s shoulder.

Before Edison could cause a fuss, Oz and I ran off toward the field. “Tell Momma I’m with Oz!” I called out.

“Dial, which sticker should I pick?” Ozzie asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I scanned the choices: a skeleton, a unicorn, or a smiley face with the tongue hanging out. “I think the skeleton goes well with the goth black-and-white vibes.”

“I think your mom’s right.”

His hand landed on my shoulder, and he kneaded. My not shying away from his touch said everything about where we were right now. The closeness of Ozzie’s presence was comforting. I loved the way his scent permeated the house and overpowered my senses. I’d spent so much time trying to avoid him that I’d forgotten all the parts of him I appreciated and missed. In the past, the strong, woodsy scent of him would cause anxiety, but now it put me at ease. For so long Ozzie had been my rock, my security blanket, and my protector. And in his absence, I’d had to learn to be those things for myself.

No one messed with Dial Birch, because they knew I didn’t argue—I knocked bitches out. But being with Oz was like having my own personal bodyguard. In so many ways, we shielded each other. If he went to a restaurant and his order was wrong, I was the one to call it out and request a replacement. When anyone talked to me sideways, Ozzie would swoop in and put them in check. If Ozzie was around, I never had to defend myself because he always would. Calling me anything but a child of God in the presence of Oz would result in your getting your feelings hurt.

“So does your friend Ramona still have a crush on that one boy?” Oz asked Maple.

“Yeah, she’s always scribbling his name in her notebook.”

“You and your friends are way too young to have crushes,” I said.

Ozzie’s face crumpled. “I had a crush on you when I was eight. Crushes are fine. Dating, on the other hand, is a hard no.”

“A bunch of girls at school already have boyfriends,” Maple protested.

“And you are forbidden to hang out with those kids.” Oz’s tone was tense.

“What your dad means is, right now you should be focused on yourself and the things that make you happy, like riding horses and hanging out with your friends,” I said.

“Did you and Daddy fall in love when you were kids?”

“What do you know about love?” Oz was clearly disturbed by the thought of our little girl growing up.

“People fall in love, get married, and have babies. Sometimes they do it out of order, like you and Momma. But they all end with a happily-ever-after.”

“You do know happily-ever-after doesn’t have to include a boyfriend or girlfriend?” I said. “It could be a fulfilling career, a community of friends, or strong family ties.” I needed her to know that life didn’t begin and end with a man.

“Yes, but you have all those things, and you’re not happy.”

I squirmed in my seat, a fake smile stretching my features. “I’m happy.”

“Not happy happy. Neither is Daddy.”