Chapter 28 Ella

Chapter 28

Ella

Jonah brings me lemonade.

I tip my chin, my eyes squinting underneath a wide-brimmed hat as sunlight pours down from the clear-blue sky. My denim romper is stained with mud. Worse, my fingernails look almost black from working with the horses all day as my hand curls around the sweating glass. "Thanks," I tell him, my lips searching for the straw. "Mom makes the best lemonade."

"It's the honey syrup," Jonah says, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Shaggy copper hair curls at his ears and his bangs are damp from hard labor under the sun. "Erin is coming by for dinner tonight. I can't wait to finally introduce her as my girlfriend."

"No, shit!" I say, grinning wide. "It's official?"

"Official as a judge's gavel."

"She's really sweet, Jonah. And pretty, too." I think of Erin and her long blond hair and perfect bangs. I tried to give myself bangs once and I looked like a bewildered sheepdog who'd had an unfortunate altercation with a hacksaw. "Is Mom losing her mind?"

"She's made three casseroles, seven pies, and enough lemonade to hydrate the entire state of Tennessee for years to come."

"Sounds legit." I giggle. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Piglet." He leans in to ruffle my hair like I'm a toddler. "No clue what she sees in me, but no complaints."

"She sees what I see, of course."

"Hope not. That would be creepy."

My arm shoots out to swat him on the shoulder. "She sees your heart, Jonah. You know…that big, beautiful thing inside your chest."

"You think so?"

"I know so." Sighing dreamily, I sip my lemonade and imagine what it would be like to fall in love one day. I picture a rugged cowboy with dark hair and broad arms. He's fit and strong because he works on a ranch all day, tending to horses and baling hay. Sunrises are filled with songful birds and floral breezes, and sunsets are the prettiest color orange I've ever seen.

"Where'd you just go?" Jonah wonders, his head tilting to the side.

I blink back to the stables, the fantasy dissolving. "I was just thinking about my future love story."

"Oh, yeah? You're only fourteen. You've still got a ways to go."

"I know. But it's fun to think about," I muse. "Besides, you always wanted me to find love one day."

Jonah glances off over my shoulder and his sage-green eyes brighten. "Well, he's here right now. You should introduce yourself."

I cough when lemonade catches in my throat. "What do you mean? Who's here?"

"Your future love story."

My future love story? Did Mom accidentally spike the lemonade?

"What the heck are you talking about?" My nose wrinkles with confusion.

He points off into the distance. "Look."

Hesitation grips me for a beat before I whirl around, my attention landing on a man with the lightest blue eyes and the nicest arms in the whole wide world. I may only be a freshman in high school, but I know nice arms when I see them. When the man smiles at me, dimples pop on both cheeks, making me swoon. He stares at me like he knows me.

I think he does.

I close my eyes and memories churn and spin. Stones skip across water and the sky lights up with dazzling star patterns. Music fills my ears as a crisp wind rushes in through an open window, tires flying down a deserted road. He takes my hand. Our fingers interlock and everything is golden.

"Max," I whisper.

I swivel back around toward Jonah, excited to tell him everything.

Max.

It's Max .

"Jonah, you're right. That's—"

A scream rips from my throat. Erin stands beside Jonah, spattered in stains of crimson. Blood oozes from holes in her chest as she sends me a wave and a smile.

Jonah wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. "Erin is here," he says, looking proud and in love. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Her face is a mess of gore.

Her body is riddled in bullet holes.

Terror sinks me as I look down at the lemonade in my hand, watching as the pale-yellow liquid swirls with red. This isn't right. This isn't real.

No, no, no.

There's a beeping noise filtering into my psyche. Persistent and shrieky. I slam both hands over my ears and shake my head. "What's that noise?"

Jonah smiles. "It's time to go."

"Go where?" Anxiety cinches my chest. "There's nowhere left to go."

"There's always somewhere. No one stays lost forever."

"But…I didn't finish writing you that letter," I tell him. Suddenly, that's the only thing that matters. I need to finish my letter. Jonah has been gone for years and I never wrote to him. I never told him that I still care, that I still love him and miss him terribly.

I was never able to piece together my fairy-tale letter, the one where I fell in love with a boy in the forest who swung from vines and feasted on berries and rainwater. Somehow, it feels important. He has to know that I'm okay. My love story prevailed.

Jonah nods agreeably, still holding on to a bloodied Erin. "So write the letter, Piglet. There's still time."

"I can't."

"Sure you can."

"But—"

He snaps his fingers.

And I'm in the clearing.

Birds chirp from tree canopies as sunlight seeps in through leafy branches, casting ribbons of gold at my feet. Max is seated across from me, his knees drawn to his chest, both hands dangling between them as he leans back against a giant trunk. There's a notebook in my lap, a pink pen fisted in my hand. I blink up at Max, studying him. Taking in his mop of hair and crystalline eyes.

But before I can process anything, there's a small stone barreling toward me at the speed of light. I don't think as my hand flies out and catches it with eerie precision.

"Nice reflexes," Max says, his dark eyebrows pinched together.

"I'm…good at catching things."

"Yeah. You mentioned that."

I unclench my fingers and glance down at the stone. It's smooth and white. Comforting in some strange way. It feels like a tether to solid ground, to a world I used to know.

Swallowing, I look over at Max.

"Are you going to that bonfire tonight?" he wonders, plucking tall weeds from the space between his parted legs.

"No."

He nods. "Me neither."

The notebook sits heavily in my lap and my hand sweats around the gel pen. I peer down at the unfinished words, wondering why I never gave them life. I should write the letter and mail it to Jonah. I should let him know that I'm okay.

Am I okay?

Even if I'm not, I can lie. I'll lie to him.

"You should finish that," Max tells me.

His voice fades out, sounding miles away. It's replaced by a whooshing in my ears like a white-hot whip lashing at my brain. I'm freefalling. Cold wind bites at my skin as tree branches gouge and scrape, a faraway scream trickling into my mind.

The beeping noise returns and I can't block it out.

Beep, beep, beep.

"Go ahead, Sunny," Max urges, just a whisper. An echo.

Beep, beep, beep.

I drink in a deep breath.

And I lift the pen.

Dear Jonah,

Today I fell in love with a boy who

***

My eyes fly open.

Oxygen fills my lungs with a razor-sharp inhale as my body stiffens and arches up off a springy surface. The beeping sound picks up speed and my gaze flits around the unfamiliar space. Bright, fluorescent lights streak across my vision. I hear a muddle of voices over the beeps, a flurry of words I can't comprehend. I can hardly make them out.

Awake.

Awake.

She's awake.

Panic sets in. My fingers latch onto a starchy fabric and a biting sting in my hand makes me aware of something sharp. A needle? My throat feels parched, my lips dry and cracked. An attempt to call out results in a raspy whisper, my vocal cords protesting after what feels like an eternity of silence. More panic rushes through me. I'm scared, lost, alone.

I'm not alone.

Faces blur above me, faces I don't immediately recognize.

Where am I?

I want to cry but I can't remember how.

A shadow moves closer as someone tinkers with something attached to me that burns the back of my hand. Movement is fast-paced. A confusing mess of motion.

I'm scared.

So scared.

I blink the haze from my eyes. I keep blinking, a million times over, until one of the faces morphs into something familiar. Dark hair spills over blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. A man. A man I know. His eyes are wild and filled with concern. His lips are moving but I can't hear his words.

I freeze.

Flashes of memory skate across my mind.

That face looming over me.

That same dark hair swinging over two eyes glinting with malice.

Hands grip me, holding me down.

Rocks dig into my back and blood fills my mouth with warm copper.

Screams.

I'm screaming then, and I'm screaming now. My body thrashes and fights. Someone holds me down again. Maybe two people. So many hands, so many voices.

But I'm acutely aware of something else. Something tucked inside my own hand. It's smooth and small, held tightly in my sweat-slicked palm. I squeeze and squeeze as a sense of calm washes over me. Peace. A peaceful moment.

I drift away to the clearing again.

Sun beats down on my face as Max sits across from me, smiling from his perch against the tree.

I look down at my outstretched fingers.

And there is the little white stone, resting in the palm of my hand.