“Trust me, okay?” I say to calm her while squeezing her small, soft hand in return.
“Famous last words, AJ Cole.” We walk around the house and into the backyard. “Wow, this place is enormous. It’s big enough for a farm. I didn’t realize we had land this big in our little town.” Cammy circles around, taking in the majesty of it all—the cottony blue sky against the wide landscape of wild, mismatched greens peppered with small colorful flowers encases a canvas of perfection. I may not know the true definition of beauty yet, but I can’t get enough of this place, so it must be something special. “It’s so peaceful and pretty.”
“I know, right? I like the meadow grass, and these oaks have to be hundreds of years old. They’ve probably seen more history than we could ever imagine. Actually, I think the house was built in 1840. Isn’t that crazy?”
“Wow,” she says, amazed, clearly feeling the way I do every time I come back here. “I wonder how many families lived here?”
“I don’t know, but I want to be one of them,” I say, pulling her faster toward the old climbing tree, the one with a wooden swing hanging from its largest branch. “Ever seen one of these?”
“In the movies,” she giggles.
“Everyone has those fancy pre-fab swing sets these days. You never really see one of the old wooden ones, and it’s way more fun than a kid’s swing,” I tell her.
Cammy looks toward the house, likely noticing the boarded up windows and the overgrown ivy cascading off of the decaying roof. Yet, she still appears nervous. “It’s beautiful back here.”
“Hop on,” I tell her, lifting her up and placing her on the long wooden plank. I walk up behind her and push her gently, watching as she closes her eyes and tips her head back. The wind breezes through her sun-kissed hair and I may only be sixteen and stupid, but there’s not much that would convince me I’m not in love with her.
“Do you think we’ll make it through the rest of high school and then college? I mean, together,” she asks.
I don’t need to think through this answer. I know it. I’m sure of it. “I do. I don’t see what could get in the way of us being together.” I grab the ropes from the swing, stopping and twisting her around mid-air so I can kiss her. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I’m pretty sure I love you, Cammy.”
Her eyes open and the sun beams right through the caramel color of her eyes, making them appear yellow. “I’m pretty sure I love you too, AJ.”
I release the swing, watching her bask in the sun, floating along with the wind. After a minute, she drags her feet on the ground and stops the swing. “And I really love it here.”
“I’m telling you, I’m going to live here someday,” I say. “I’ve wanted to live here ever since I first saw it.”
“It must be pretty expensive, so you better do well in college and get a good job to afford this place.” It’s just a dream. I’ll probably never be able to live in a place this nice, but that won’t stop me from coming back here to pretend I do.
“So if we stay together, that means I can live here with you too,” she says, smiling warmly.
“It’s a good plan,” I tell her, pushing against her back again.
“We’re dumb teenagers aren’t we?” she asks through laughter.
“Yeah, no sixteen-year-old knows what they want for the rest of their lives,” I agree with her, smirking to get a reaction. “Except us, of course.”
CHAPTER ONE
Twelve Years AGO
I’VE HAD SEVEN long months to figure out a way to break the news to the two people who brought me into this world. Part of me would like to think they won’t be surprised, considering this sort of thing is expected from me since I’m not their all-star, perfect son. I’ve accepted it…in fact, I’ve run with it…until now. However, now I have to stop running and start thinking, really quickly.
Cammy leans across the row between our desks and hands me a note, interrupting my thoughts. I quickly take it and unfold it, reading:
I’m a little scared about this. Actually, I’m freaking out.
I wish she would relax and try not to worry. I want to tell her everything will be okay, but we’re sitting in the middle of history class. Mrs. Halifax hates me as it is, so if I start talking, she’ll ship me right down to the principal's office again, so I mouth, “It’s going to be okay,” to Cammy, hoping it holds her over until the end of class.
Cammy closes her eyes and leans back against her metal chair. Her auburn hair falls over the back side of the seat and she swallows loud enough for me to hear. “I can’t do this,” she says abruptly, out loud.
Every kid in the class looks over at her curiously—everyone including Mrs. Halifax.