Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Half Title Page
- Books by Katie Powner
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
The funeral had been two weeks after graduation. While Bea clung to all her memories of what had been, everyone else in her class had been focused on what was to come. “Thanks.”
Amber nodded. “Well, I wish I could stay, but I gotta get this guy home to bed. We should meet up for lunch sometime.”
“O-oh,” Bea stammered. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Amber hoisted the baby onto her hip and carefully maneuvered down the steps. Bea watched them go, unable to tear her eyes from the tiny body in Amber’s arms.
Jeremy scooted closer. His lips were definitely blue. And Bea was pretty sure she could hear his teeth chattering.
He caught her eye. “Cute kid.”
She swallowed. Had Hunter’s eight-month-old eyes seared her soul like floodlights shining on her every fear and insecurity, or had it been her imagination? “Yep.”
“You know a lot of people.”
“Everyone knows everyone around here.”
“You must have a lot of friends then.”
She hesitated. “Just because you know people doesn’t mean they’re your friends.”
“So you don’t have friends?”
Bea squirmed. Jeremy was always doing this kind of thing. Forcing her to talk about herself, explain herself. He always wanted to know everything. Understand everything. But how could she explain it when she didn’t understand it herself?
“I had friends growing up, I guess, but never had a specific group. I kind of bounced around.”
She’d always preferred working with Grandpa on the ranch or hanging out with her mom to school-spirit-type stuff. It was Mom she painted toenails with. Made ice cream sundaes with. Mom who helped her pick out a dress the one and only time she attended a school dance. Mom who had been her best friend.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Jeremy nudged her with his shoulder. “You could get along with anyone.”
“Maybe.” Bea thought back to her mother’s funeral. Though a dozen kids from school had been there, she’d felt lost and alone. “But sometimes getting along with anyone means not belonging anywhere.”
None of her friends had been able to fill the void left by her mother. And Dad certainly hadn’t. He hadn’t even tried.
The crowd began returning to their seats as halftime wound down.
Jeremy scooted even closer and put his arm around Bea’s waist. “Are you okay?”
“I guess.” She watched him from the corner of her eye. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t tell your dad”—he gave her a sheepish look and shivered—“but I’ve never been so cold in my life.”
ELEVEN
