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world tumbles into chaos. There were times I thought maybe we could be more, but

then…I’d freeze up entirely. Isaiah and I were meant to be friends and now I’m losing my only friend.

The phone vibrates in my hands. It’s as if he senses I’m finally on the other side. Call me.

Text me. Please.

I toss the cell onto the floorboard of Ryan’s Jeep. Texting Isaiah back will only increase the pain—for both of us.

Ryan concentrates on the road, looking deep in thought. I wish I had his life. No pain. No problems. Only lightness and freedom.

“You okay?” Ryan catches me staring. I

remind myself that the sincerity melting in his brown eyes isn’t real. Jocks are good at

pretending. His hair sticks out behind the baseball cap he wears backward. He shifts gears again and the muscles in his arms ripple with the motion. It’s kind of sexy. Not kind of—Ryan is sexy.

“Why are we on a dirt road? Did we

officially reach the end of civilization?”

“It’s a gravel road,” says Ryan. “This is the way to my house.”

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His house. Please. That bastard Luke

from my old school “showed” me his house

too. “I’m not fucking you.”

“And you talk so pretty. You must have had all the guys dangling from your fingertips in Louisville.” He flexes his fingers and regrips the steering wheel before speaking matter-of-factly. “This is the fastest way to the party.”

Ryan hates me and I don’t blame him. I hate me. What I hate more in this moment is that part of me likes Ryan. He stood up for me like the prince does for the princess in the fairy tales Scott used to read to me as a child. I’m not a princess, but Ryan is a knight. He just belongs to someone else.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.”

“I’m fine.” I hate how sharp the words come out. Fabulous. I yelled at him. Now I can feel like crap for that too.

Ryan breezes past what I assume is his

house, a large one-story with a massive garage next to it, and switches gears again when we hit the grass. The Jeep jolts forward, tossing me in the seat like I’m on a roller coaster. I grab hold of the passenger grip on the ceiling and Ryan laughs. A crazy smile brightens his HC TITLE-AUTHOR

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face and once again, I find myself drawn in.

No longer leaning away from me, Ryan sits straight, one hand on the steering wheel, another shifting gears as we hurtle down a hill to a creek. The Jeep accelerates as if it were a snowball on the verge of an avalanche. I can see the possibilities. The crashing. The water.

The jostling. The dirt. My heart pumps faster in my chest and for the first time in weeks I feel alive.

The engine roars and he presses harder on the gas. The Jeep hits the rocks. Ryan and I both whoop and yell as water sprays the truck and smashes onto the windshield, making us blind. He pushes the Jeep forward, faster, past the creek, over the rocks. Daring to continue even when I have no idea what’s on the other side.

The windshield wipers spring to life,

clearing our view, and Ryan jerks the wheel to the right to miss a sprawling tree. He enters a clearing and kills the engine. I hear laughter and suck in a breath when I realize it’s

mine…and his. Together. It sounds nice. Kind of like music.

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that makes my stomach flip. He had it at

Taco Bell. He had it when Scott introduced us.

He does it with such ease and for a second I believe his smile is for me.

“You’re smiling,” he says.

I absently touch my face as if I’m surprised by the news.

“You should do that more. It’s pretty.” He pauses. “You’re pretty.”

My heart does this strange fluttering. Like it’s stopping and starting at the same time. Heat creeps up my neck and flushes my face. What the hell? I’m blushing again?

“I’m sorry.” Ryan keeps the enduring smile, but it turns a little repentant and his eyes cast down in a shy way.

“No, it was fun.” The most fun I’ve had in weeks. The most fun I’ve had sober in…my

mind ticks back and I come up empty. Life sucks sober.

“Yeah.” His eyes become distant and the

grin stays on his face, but I can tell it’s a little forced. He blinks and the smile becomes

natural again. “Yeah. The creek. I should have told you that was coming. Or slowed down.”

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longer than a second, I don’t know. The

uncharacteristic bashfulness causes me to feel inadequate and a little…girly? I lace my hands together and focus on them. “Really. It’s okay.

I had fun.”

“Beth?” He hesitates. “Can we start over?”

I eye him—head to toe. No one’s offered me a do-over before. I guess no one thought I was worth it. A strange tugging inside me lifts my lips and causes a floating sensation for about three seconds. Well aware that everything in life is short lived, I feel the smile drop and the heaviness return. Still, I accept the offer.

“Sure.”

The sound of a guy shouting catches our

attention. Further into the clearing is a circle of trucks with headlights on and a bonfire in the middle. Kids from school are everywhere.

What am I doing here?

“You ready?” he asks.

No, but I screwed everything up when I tried to run away. “I guess.”

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trucks. The whole setup has a Lord of the Flies quality. At least the movie version of the book.

Ryan and I wade through the knee-deep

grass and it crunches beneath my wannabe

Chuck Taylors. Some of the longer blades swat at me, slashing at the bare skin exposed by the rips in my jeans. I hate the country.

The closer we get to the party, the slower I walk and Ryan matches my pace. With each

step, he bridges the distance between us and a couple of times his fingers skim against mine.

Butterflies flutter through my blood and the stupid little girl part of me wants him to touch me.

The other part would slug him if he did.

“Parties make you uncomfortable?” he asks.

“When they make me feel like Daniel

stepping into the lion’s den.”

I try to suck in my smile when I hear the surprise in his voice. “You know the story?”

Thanks to my short stint in VBS with Lacy, I can recite the books of the Bible, New and Old Testament, and a few other random verses.

“Even the devil knows who God is.”

“You’re not the devil, Beth.”

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“Are you sure?”

That sweet smile graces his lips. “No.”

I laugh. It’s a good laugh. The type that digs deep down into my toes and tickles my insides.

What feels even better is the sound of him laughing right along with me.

“Come on. I promise they won’t eat you.

Half the girls here claim they’re vegetarians and I can take the guys.” He does the one thing I hoped for and dreaded: his hand tangles with mine and he tugs gently for me to follow.

I like the touch of his hand. It’s warm.

Strong. And I let the part of me that loved ribbons live for a few seconds and entwine my fingers with his. If I learned one thing from Vacation Bible School, it was that resurrection of the dead is possible.

Ryan walks toward a truck where Chris and Logan sit on the tailgate. They laugh loudly, then stop when they see me. Tucked between Chris’s legs, Lacy offers me a friendly smile.

“Did the mud call to you again, Ryan?” asks Lacy.

Ryan chuckles. “Yeah.”

Mud? How did Lacy know…I glance down

at my outfit. Mud—everywhere. Just great.