You were a teenage boy once. What would you do?

I wish I had the courage to send one of these emails, but I know they’ll gather virtual dust in my inbox until I finally delete them.

Love,

K xx

In the morning, I donned a summer dress and tied my hair back before I covered it with a floppy hat. I applied sunscreen and walked to the coffee shop I’d seen yesterday, Taste of Destiny. A queue stretched across the room, and I stood in the back and pretended to look at something on my phone, surreptitiously scanning my surroundings. I saw a few familiar faces but no one from the Braddock clan. Probably just as well, after last night.

When it was my turn to be served, the girl at the counter’s eyes widened comically. “Oh my God. You’re—”

I held a finger to my lips and gave her a meaningful look.

She glanced around, not subtle at all, then leaned forward. “You’re Kennedy Cox.”

I sighed, sensing the man behind me glance at his watch impatiently. At least the girl had been quiet enough that no one had heard the announcement. “Yes, I am.”

“People around here like to say they knew you before you were famous, but I thought they were full of it.” She shook her head in wonder. “But here you are, in little old Destiny Falls.”

My jaw tightened. She was sweet, but the last thing I needed was more attention. Redeeming myself would be difficult enough without anyone making a fuss about my presence. “Here I am.”

“But why?” she mused, as the man behind me cleared his throat.

“I missed it.” May as well be truthful. “And I missed Liam.”

“Ooh.” She winced. “You’ve got your work cut out for you there. People have been calling him the broken-hearted Braddock for as long as I can remember.”

“Yikes.” Being stuck with a moniker like that wouldn’t sit well with him, even if nobody said it to his face. “Thanks for the tip.” I forced a smile. “Want me to sign something for you?” She thrust a napkin toward me, and I took a pen from the counter and autographed it. “What’s your name?”

“Eden.”

I added a small personal note and passed it to her. “Here you go.”

She clutched it to her chest. “Thanks. Now, what can I get you?”

Finally. “A trim latte please.”

“Sure, no problem. To take away?”

I glanced around, noting several people watching us. “Yes, please.”

“That’ll be five dollars.”