“Thank you. You can leave it and go.”

“Orrr…” I smiled brightly, sitting beside him. “I could stay.”

“Orrr,” he responded, frowning sharply, “you can go.”

“Even though I brought you food? That just seems rude. I won’t talk, I swear. I just want a nice place to watch the fireworks.”

“Did Alex tell you I was here?”

“He might have mentioned it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course, he did. How was the carnival?” he asked.

I smirked. “Do you really care about the ins and outs of Chester events?”

“Not at all, but it seems like a big deal to you, so I thought I’d ask.”

Swoon.

Wait, did I just swoon?

When was the last time I swooned?

“It was good. They raised a lot of money for a great cause.” I told him about the MISS Foundation and what it meant to me, how they’d helped me through my miscarriages.

“Seven?” he questioned.

I nodded slowly. “Seven. I spoke with Josie about it a few weeks back. She’s lost a few of her own, too, and she has little hearts on her wrist with angel wings in memory of their lives. I thought about doing that, too, but my family’s a bit against tattoos. It’s not classy, as my mama would say.”

“Your body, your choice,” Jackson said, making me smile a little. “I think it’s a good idea to have a reminder of them.”

“Yeah…maybe. I’m just a bit tired of disappointing my mom.”

“Sometimes, you have to disappoint people to better yourself,” he told me.

“Maybe,” I said, still uncertain.

“You’ll get there,” he told me. “To the point where you don’t care what other people think.”

“That sounds like a great place to be.”

“Trust me, it is.” He turned toward me, locking those beautiful hazel eyes with mine. “You would make a great mother.”

Oh, Jackson…

“Ah, come on, princess. I thought we were past the crying thing,” he joked, brushing his thumb beneath my eyes.

“Sorry, I…that was a really nice thing to say, Jackson. Thank you.”

“Just the truth.”

We sat in silence, and it wasn’t long before the big show began. If there was one thing Chester was extremely good at—other than gossip—it was putting on a fireworks display.

“This peach festival was the last chunk of time I spent with my mom,” Jackson told me, staring out at the sky as it lit up. “We sat up here eating Bomb Pops and Cheetos Puffs, watching the display. We were quiet, and I just remember feeling whole, like for the first time in a long time, everything would be all right. I mean, sure she passed away shortly after that, but at that moment, the world was still. At that moment, I was happy.”

“Those are the things you have to hold—the moments.”

He gave me a half smile. “This is a good moment,” he said, his voice low as he turned back out toward the fireworks.

Yes, it was.

“So, Jackson, are we like…friends?”

He groaned, rolling his eyes in the most dramatic way. “Come on. Don’t do that, Grace.”

“Do what?”

“Be corny.”

“How is that corny?”

“Because you don’t ask people if they are your friend. They just…are.”

“Oh.” I nodded slowly, staring out into the night. “So, we just…are?”

“Yeah.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “We just are.”

I wouldn’t tell him how good it felt—just being with him.

As he looked out, his voice dropped low. “Listen, I know I’m not easy all the time. I’m a bit cold and hard to read, so thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“Being my friend. I never knew I needed you, but I did—I do.” He tilted his head my way and gave me a small smile, the kind that always made my heart skip. Jackson Emery didn’t smile a lot, so whenever he did, it felt like a secret gift he was only giving to me. “The only friend I’ve ever had was Tucker, you know? Then came you.”

“You want to know a secret?” I asked him.

“Yes.”

“I think you’re the most graceful person in this town.”

He laughed. “Bullshit.”

“No, I mean it—not the you they make you out to be, but the real you, the one who gives his all to care for his father, the one who holds a girl who’s having a panic attack, the one who doesn’t fight back when the world is fighting you. You have the most grace I’ve ever seen.”

“Princess?”

“Yes, Oscar?”

“You make it really hard.”

“For what?”

“For me to hate the whole world.”

31

Grace

Jackson and I began seeing one another most days. It was as if I was his escape from reality, and he was mine—or more so, we were each other’s escape from the façade of superficiality in Chester. The town had been my home all my life, but lately, it felt as if I didn’t fit there anymore. The only time I felt like anything made sense was when I was with Jackson.

In his darkness, I found my light.

We began doing all types of activities together as a way of learning more about each other and ourselves. His life was spent caring for his father, and mine was spent being perfect for my mother, so for the first time ever, we took the time to learn who we were as individuals—together.