Chapter 1 Ella

Chapter 1

Ella

Age 7

There's a Popsicle in my mouth.

Orange.

It's my favorite flavor and my favorite color. But that's not what makes it the best Popsicle in the whole world. No, it's the best Popsicle because my best friend, Max, is eating one right beside me.

Smiling, I kick my feet back and forth on the swing as one sticky hand curls around the chain and we both sway in opposite time. Max's twin brother, McKay, plays in the sandpit across the playground, digging plastic shovels and toy tractors into the sand and making zoomy sounds. McKay's Popsicle is purple, but orange is way better.

It's a perfect summer morning. The sun is extra bright and the blue sky is striped with clouds. I imagine hopping from one to another, my sneakers sinking in the mounds of fluff.

"Think we'll get married one day like my mom and dad?" Max wonders aloud, straightening his legs out, then bending his knees as he moves back and forth on the swing.

"Sure," I say with a firm nod.

"That would be cool, right? McKay could live with us, too."

"I love that idea." I smile at him, watching his mop of brown hair stick straight up when he pushes forward on the swing. "When should we get married?"

"I dunno," he says. "When we're older, I guess."

"Your parents are kind of old. I don't want to wait that long."

"We can be younger. Maybe in a couple of years."

"Okay."

McKay makes a loud noise and jabs his violet-stained Popsicle stick into the sand. I giggle before glancing over at Max. "You're lucky you still live with your brother," I tell him. "I miss mine."

I miss Jonah so much.

Mom too.

But especially Jonah.

He's four years older than me and my greatest protector. One time, he pushed a little kid off a play set because the bully was throwing rocks at me down below and making me cry. The boy broke his ankle and Jonah got in really big trouble. But he did it for me, so that makes him the best big brother in the whole world. We used to pretend we were Winnie the Pooh characters and the woods behind our horse farm were the Hundred Acre Wood, just like in the storybook.

I love stories. I love books.

I love Jonah.

"My brother is a pain sometimes," Max replies. He watches his brother for a moment before swiveling toward me, his dark eyebrows lifting. "You like me more than McKay, right?"

"Yeah." My lips pucker as I think about it. "You're nicer to me and I like your dimples."

"We look the same," he reminds me.

"He doesn't have dimples."

This seems to satisfy him, and he swings as high as he can one more time before hopping off and dropping to the wood chips. "Come on. Let's go explore."

We discard our Popsicle sticks in a trash can and I follow Max to the tree line to search the ground for treasures. Jonah and I used to look for treasure, too—back when I still lived in Nashville last summer. Back when Mom and Dad were together and we were a happy family. I'm not sure why Dad took me away, and why Jonah stayed behind with Mom, but they said it was because of the divorce. Whatever that means. I guess that's what happens when moms and dads don't love each other anymore.

It's not fair that Jonah and I had to get a divorce, too. He was my best friend.

Until Max.

My shoes crunch along sticks and green leaves as we explore the trail. "My brother wrote me a letter yesterday," I tell Max, crouching down to stare at a weird-looking caterpillar with stripes.

"Yeah? What did it say?"

"I couldn't read all the words, but Dad read it to me and said Jonah missed me a lot, and he told me about the horses back on the farm. I used to love the horses. Phoenix was my favorite." I nibble my lip. "Jonah also said he'd beat up any boys who were mean to me. He's my protector."

His nose screws up. "You should tell him that I'm here now. I'll protect you."

I smile as wide as the sunny sky.

"Does he write you a lot of letters?" Max continues, bending beside me and sticking out his hand to the bug. The funny caterpillar slithers over his finger, then moves to his knuckles.

"Yep. Every week there's a new letter."

"That's cool." Studying the strange insect, Max relocates it to a nearby branch and we watch as it crawls onto a bright-green leaf. "I bet this little guy will be a butterfly soon. Maybe one of those zebra butterflies."

"Those are my favorite."

"Hey, we should find a clearing in the woods and make it our own special hideaway. Dad can help me build a bench for us to sit and read books together. We can talk about our day at school and watch the butterflies flutter by. It'll be our secret hiding spot."

I think that's the best idea ever. Bobbing my head eagerly, I point to a small clearing covered in a canopy of treetops. "Over there is a good spot."

"Let's go."

We spend the next hour in our new secret spot, sitting cross-legged across from each other and telling magical stories. Stories about swinging on vines and drinking water from fresh streams. Eating berries, swimming in lakes, and dancing under a summer sun. Then when night falls, we'll stare up at the stars instead.

Before we head back to the park, Max holds something out to me. "Look what I found, Ella. It's pretty cool. Do you like it?" He stretches out his palm to show me a shiny white stone.

My eyes light up. It is pretty cool. "I love this. Maybe I'll start a rock collection," I say, plucking the stone from his hand and plopping it in the pocket of my tangerine romper.

"And whenever you look at this one, you can think of me."

Max sends me a goofy smile that shoots a tickle to my heart. Almost like fluttery butterfly wings.

As we exit the woods, I spot Dad's silver car waiting for us on the side of the street. He's checking his watch and looking around the playground for me.

Ugh.

I don't want to leave yet. The late August sun is glowing and warm, and it's one of the last days of summer before school starts up again. We're going into second grade. "My dad is here," I mumble. "Guess I gotta go."

Max makes a sour face. "Let's meet back here tomorrow after lunch. I'll tell my dad about the bench. I bet we can carve it up real fast."

"Okay. I can't wait." Sighing, I trudge toward the edge of the playground, saying goodbye to McKay as I pass him.

"Bye, Ella," he says back, his face smudged with sand and dirt.

Dad picks me up in his shiny car.

When I buckle my seat belt and roll the window down to wave goodbye to my friends, Max runs toward me at the speed of light. I learned about light speed in a book once. It's fast.

Almost as fast as Max.

"Ella, wait!" he calls out to me, winded when he reaches the window. "I got this for you."

I look at what's tucked inside his fist, and my heart soars all the way up to the sun-streaked sky. It's a beautiful orange flower. The prettiest flower I've ever seen. "Wow, thanks!"

When he smiles, his dimples pop even more than my eyes. "It made me think of you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's bright like the sun," he says, glancing skyward. "And the sun is bright like you."

Dad glances at me over his shoulder. "Time to go, Ella. Say goodbye to your friend."

I bring the flower to my nose and inhale deeply, my eyelashes fluttering over the neon-orange petals. "Bye, Max."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" The car begins to move, and Max runs to catch up with it. He runs faster and faster, almost at the same speed, almost catching it.

I hang out the window and smile at him just as the car jerks forward, too fast for Max to keep up with any longer. "I'll see you tomorrow!" I yell back.

Max disappears out of sight when we round the corner and I slump down in my seat, the flower twirling between my fingers. Then I whisper to myself, "And every day after that."

***

Dad drives me away in his shiny car. We leave Juniper Falls and head back to Nashville that night, suitcases and boxes stuffed to the ceiling in the back seat. He lets me sit up front, even though the police might give him a ticket. He says it's a special trip, and because it's special, I get to sit up front and eat a whole bag of gummy bears. I save the orange ones for last because they're my favorite.

By the time we pull into my old driveway on the horse farm, my stomach feels sick.

But not because of the candy.

I think it's because, deep down, something tells me I'll never see Max again.

Mom and Jonah run down the long driveway and tackle me with hugs and tears. My brother spins me around in circles, my hair swinging behind me as I hold on tight.

I'm happy to see them—I am. But I'm sad, too.

As I walk toward the big ranch house and look around at all the horses, my belly suddenly pinches with a tight knot. I whirl around to Dad who is yelling at Mom about something. "Dad!" I call out, tears sprouting in my eyes.

His shoulders slump when he turns to look at me, his gaze dull and tired. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot my stone. The one I picked up at the playground today with Max."

"It's just a stone, Ella. You can find another one."

"But…that one was special. Max found it for me." My bottom lip wobbles as the tears burn. "We have to go back and get it. Please, Dad."

He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'll mail it to you, kiddo."

Puffing out a sad sigh, I turn around and walk away, dragging my suitcase behind me. When I make it to the front of the house, I stop and look down at the orange flower still tucked inside my hand.

It's already dying.

And my father never does mail me that stone.