It’s when I’m walking to the back office that I feel it. The shift in the air. It’s subtle—a ghost of a chill that flickers down my spine. What the heck? I brush it off, straightening my shoulders and walking through the open door.

I don’t see him at first, but when I do—that chill drops like an iceberg, free-falling through my body and freezing me in place.

This isn’t happening.

This cannot be happening.

“Alina! I was starting to wonder if you would even show up,” my boss, Regina, says as she smiles thinly. She’s annoyed, and rightly so. I should respond, but I don’t. I’m not sure I physically can since my heart has stalled in my chest.

Chase Adams.

I’d love him if I didn’t hate him so much.

There’s a pencil behind his ear, a blueprint rolled up in his hand, and another laid out on the desk. But he isn’t looking at that. He’s locked on me, mouth partially open, hand frozen halfway through his silky, dark hair.

He swallows, and my traitorous eyes track the way his throat bobs. “Goldi.”

The nickname travels across the room and pierces me in the chest, snapping me out of my shock. “Don’t call me that.”

He sucks in a breath, but clamps his mouth shut and nods.

“You two know each other?” Regina points between the two of us.

Chase starts to answer. “Yeah, actually we used—”

“Our folks are neighbors,” I interrupt. “We grew up together, but no. I never really knew him.”

I stand stoic, my gaze never straying from Regina. But I can feel him. My body hums, reminding me of the first time I saw him at eleven years old, and just like then, I have to clench my fists to keep from reaching out.

Alina

Eleven Years Old

I love dancing. Always have and always will. Been in classes for every type of dancing under the sun since I was four years old. Daddy tells me I’ll dance my way into the worst kind of trouble, but I think that’s a load of bull. Why would I want to get in trouble? I’m eleven now, way too big to be sitting in a time-out chair. It’s just that dancing is one of the only times I really feel free. My older brother Eli will tell you I’ve got two left feet, but don’t believe him. He just gets annoyed Mama tells him to let me pick the music when she sends us outside to play.

I pick a freshly burned CD out of my case and pop it in. When Gretchen Wilson’s “Red Neck Woman” blares out of the speakers, I smile big and tap my foot.

“Ugh, seriously?” my brother huffs. “Lee, could you pick worse songs to listen to? You know I can’t stand country.”

I turn quickly, whipping my long honey-blonde hair around, tangling it behind me. Eli’s shooting hoops in the driveway. I stick my tongue out at him and turn toward the house. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s all I’ve ever known as home. A three-bed, two-bath, one-story right smack in the middle of Sugarlake, Tennessee with blue shutters and the prettiest tulips you’ll ever see. I love picking them when they bloom in the spring, but Mama gets mad when I do because tulips are “a labor of love,” so instead I just come out front and stare at them every chance I get.

Eli dribbles the basketball and groans, bringing my attention back to him. “Seriously, you always get to pick the music and it fuckin’ sucks, Lee. Put on some OutKast or somethin’. I can’t practice my free throws to this shit.”

I roll my eyes at his potty mouth. He thinks he’s so big and bad because he’s fourteen now, and he loves to curse every chance he gets.

“Don’t let Mama hear you talk like that or she’ll wash your mouth out with soap again.” I stick my finger in my mouth, makin

g a loud gagging noise. I’ve never had soap in my mouth, but watching Eli go through it is enough to make me never want to speak a bad word in my life.

He stops dribbling and runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “You’re such a goody-two-shoes. Why don’t you leave me alone? Go on and introduce yourself to the new neighbors or somethin’. I saw a girl runnin’ around their front yard, and I bet you’d get along great. She looks almost as annoyin’ as you.” He smirks, pointing down the street.

I put my hands on my hips. The house is three doors down. There’s a big moving truck in the driveway and lots of men in dark blue uniforms unloading furniture and boxes. I strain my eyes trying to find the girl, and finally, see her in the front yard. She’s smaller than me and hula hooping away without a care in the world, her dark brown hair swishing behind her in a high ponytail. She looks friendly enough, and since my best friend Becca is out of town for the summer at church camp, I really have nothing better to do than make a new friend.

“Okay, I will. But not ‘cause you told me to, Eli. I’m doin’ it ‘cause she looks nice.” I’m pointing my finger at him because it’s important he knows this.

I march down the street. I’m almost to her house when a boy walks out of the front door and slams it behind him. I stop in my tracks and watch with wide eyes as he turns and flips off the closed door with both middle fingers, sitting down on the front steps and lighting up a cigarette. He doesn’t look that much older than me, definitely not old enough to buy cigarettes. He leans on his arms and blows out a puff of smoke. I watch, mesmerized as it swirls up into the air.

Is he the new girl’s brother?

He has the same brown-black hair, although his is cut so short I can almost see his scalp. He isn’t as small as her, but he is skinny and kind of gangly looking. He turns his head and looks straight at me. It’s only then I realize I’m standing in the middle of our street staring like a weirdo. I feel my cheeks heat and I’m sure they’re bright red, so I quickly look down and start walking again. No sense in turning back now, that would be even weirder.

The girl sees me as I get to the edge of their front yard, and she lets the hula hoop fall down her body. A huge smile takes over her face as she runs to meet me. I watch her bound over.

Dang, this girl is bouncy.

“Hi! I’m Lily! Do you live on this street? I’m so excited that you came over. I’ve been so worried about not making any friends, but then here you are, and oh! Your eyes are so pretty! They must be the bluest things I’ve ever seen.”

She stands on her tiptoes and gets super close to my face. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jean shorts and stare back at this girl who I think might be a little crazy. I’m fixin’ to kill Eli for suggestin’ I come over here. I look behind her to where the boy is watching us, stone-faced. Eli calls expressions like that “resting asshole face.” I don’t know if this boy is an asshole, but he sure doesn’t seem happy to see me. I decide to ignore him and shift my focus back to Lily.

“How do you talk like that? You know… just goin’ and goin’ for so long without havin’ to breathe?” I ask, taking a step away.

Immediately, I want to take my words back. Daddy says I have no filter, but I’ve always thought saying what’s on my mind is the most honest thing you can do, and if I’m nothing else I always want to be honest. I hate liars.

I’m worried I hurt her feelings, but she just laughs and I’m so relieved that I join her. She links her arm in mine and pulls me further into the yard. For such a small thing, she’s awful strong.

“You’ll get used to me.” She pats my arm. “My mom used to tell me I had enough energy to light up all of Chicago.”

“I think I believe her.” My eyes are wide as I smile. “Well, I’m Alina May Carson but my friends call me Lee. I live three houses down that way.” I point to where Eli is shooting free throws. “That’s my brother, Eli.” I glance at the boy on the steps again. “Does he like basketball? Eli never lets me play, he says basketball’s not meant for girls, but he’d probably let another boy play.”

She waves her hand in the general direction of the steps. “Oh, that’s my brother, Chase. He doesn’t like much of anything really unless it involves making our foster parents mad.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure what a foster parent is, but I don’t want to seem stupid, so I nod my head like I get it.

“Chase!” she yells. “Come here and meet Alina. She lives down the street!”

The bees buzz around in my stomach as he slowly puts his cigarette out on the ground, crushing it beneath his worn black boot. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of me, my eyes level with his chin. When he’s this close, I see the scar running through his left eyebrow. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to reach up and trace it. There’s something about this boy. He hasn’t said a word yet, and I’m already dying to know him.

“Smokin’ kills, you know.” Once again, I have no filter.

His hazel eyes look down at me and the left side of his mouth rises slightly higher than his right. “Is that right?”

“Yep.” I pop the P. “I’m a big believer in lettin’ people know how I feel about things. You might as well get used to it since we’re neighbors and all.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah? And how are you feeling right now?”

“A little too hot, if I’m honest.” I fan my face so he knows just how serious I am. It is warm just standing here under the summer sun.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re a strange girl. How old are you anyway, Goldilocks?”

I scrunch up my nose at the nickname. “I’m eleven and my name is Alina, not Goldilocks. Ah-lee-nuh. But if you start being a little nicer, you can call me Lee.”

He tugs on a strand of my hair, then brushes past me.

“You’re the same age as me!” Lily squeals. “This is so cool. I can’t believe that we’ll be in the same grade. Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Born and raised.” I bob my head.

“I think it’s the prettiest place I’ve ever seen,” she sighs. I smile at her, but I look past her, hoping to catch another glimpse of her brother walking down the street.

Lily rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry about Mr. Grumpy Pants. He’s thirteen, so he’ll be in middle school. We won’t have to worry about him raining on our parade! You wanna come inside?”

I nod, following her into the house. I look back one more time in Chase’s direction. He has sad eyes and I feel like maybe he needs someone to make him smile.