I make it home in time to help my mom put dinner on the table. My dad's lazing in front of the TV catching up on the news, so I decide to startle him with a cold can of root beer to the back of the neck. He makes an odd gurgle in the back of his throat, his chest heaving forward, pulling his body away from the unwelcome chill. Then without looking, he reaches behind him, snags my arm and somehow manages to haul me over the back of his chair and into his lap... where he tickles me until I can't breathe.

"Dad," I manage to gasp, my face doing a terrible job of concealing my misery as laughter bubbles from my lips.

"Say you're sorry," he taunts, pausing his assault for a moment as he keeps his fingers ready to attack again.

"Never!" I belt, lunging from his lap and landing on all fours in the middle of the living room. I quickly crawl away, my dad still working to push himself out of his seat.

"You little fart," he grumbles, laughing as he grunts to get to his feet. "Karen!" he hollers to my mom in the kitchen. "Make sure this brat doesn't get any dessert tonight!"

My mom sticks her head out of the kitchen with a sly grin on her lips. "There's no dessert tonight... unless sweet potatoes count."

My dad's triumph quickly vanishes from his face and he puckers his lips at me in defeat. "Fine," he declares. "You win. This time. But next time, I promise I'll go out and buy the whole family chocolate sundaes and accidentally forget my oldest daughter."

"Everly, make sure your sister is strapped into her chair," my mom says, coming around the corner with a bowl of green beans and BBQ chicken in her hands. "Andrew, James, Luke! Time for dinner!"

The three boys come scurrying around the corner, chairs grinding against the wood floors as they slide into their seats. James snatches a roll from the bread basket and takes a bite just as he catches my dad's warning look from across the table.

"Looks like you're praying tonight," my dad informs him, resting his lips against his folded hands to hide his grin.

Dinner is filled with endless chatter, mainly my brothers and Addy. I swear the four of them never shut up. But I can't really complain. It gives me a moment to just absorb and decompress without having to think. I sort of enjoy this part of my day. It's the getting everyone ready for bed part that I loath. I swear I'm mom number two in this house, but I suppose it's the least I can do for my poor mom who works part time and then has to come home to a house full of hooligans.

Once the kitchen is cleaned up and all the littles are in bed, I slouch down on the couch — much like my dad had been earlier — and stare at the muted TV screen. The news is still playing but I'm not actually seeing anything. There's homework to be done, but for the time being, I don't actually care.

Feeling the couch dip beside me, I turn to find my mom with two steaming cups of tea in hand. She passes one to me before blowing the steam off the top of hers, her eyes analyzing me from over the rim of her mug.

"You good?" she asks, taking a sip and hissing against the sting on her tongue.

"Eh..." I run my finger along the handle of my own mug. "I suppose. Just tired."

"Mmh hmm... and...?"

She's always been able to read me, which is fine. We don't actually have anything to hide from each other. I've never been rebellious or held secrets I wasn't comfortable sharing. And she's a complete romantic, so when it comes to dishing about about boys, she's all ears.

"Bryson?" she prods gently, eyes gleaming as she pulls her knees up to her chest and turns to face me.

"Ugh... yes," I give in. "I just don't understand how so many people in school manage to find that person who has mutual feelings for them. Like, really, what are the chances of two people actually feeling the same way about each other?"

"Not that likely," my mom agrees and I throw my hands out in a 'See? You get me!' gesture.

"But it's not about two people magically finding each other," she continues, pausing to take another sip and then setting her mug down on the side table in annoyance when she burns her tongue again. "It's about two friends realizing that friendship isn't all they want. Are you and Bryson friends?"

"Yeah...?" I tell her hesitantly.

"Exactly," she nods, ignoring my obvious fib. "How can strangers like each other? You don't even know each other. Be his friend first, Ev. You're not even giving him a choice right now. You're just mad he doesn't like you, but honestly, what's there to like — other than a pretty face, of course. He doesn't even know you." She slides her hand over my knee and offers it a gentle squeeze. "Let him know you."

———

Well, my mom's advice turned out to be way easier said than done. Pretty sure my random hello's in the hallways just weirded Bryson out. I've never been the type to go out of my way to greet someone. I typically wait for the greeting before offering any kind of acknowledgment. It's not that I'm a jerk; it's just that I think I have this strange fear of not being heard. Like I'll end up looking like a total buffoon standing there waving a hello at someone who didn't even see me.

So, instead, I remain silent. And I continue to remain silent for the next four weeks.

The air starts to tingle with the presence of fall and sweaters come out of hiding. It's my favorite time of year. Still warm enough to enjoy the outdoors, but chilly enough for campfires and apple cider.

That's how Cooper and all his buddies ended up at my house on a Friday night. I'd bought enough wood to start a bonfire and enough s'mores to feed an empire. We were set... and then Bryson showed up arm-in-arm with Claudia Birmingham.

I think I simply hated her because she was so impossible to hate... and because she had managed to soak up every drop of Bryson's attention. She isn't the typical blond-hair, blue-eyed popular chick that seems to be the rage in movies. She's a short Filipino with bleached blond hair and eyes so dark they blend into her pupils. Decked out it suede boots, jeggings and a denim long-sleeved top, she looked the perfect blend of comfortable and stylish.

"Everly!" she hollers, shaking her way out of Bryson's hold and nearly breaking her ankle in a small hole on her way toward me. "Your house is amazing!"

"Thanks," I respond, accepting her hug.

"How are you?"

"Honestly?" I question, quirking my brow and silently asking if she really wants to know. When she nods, I sigh. "I'm practically dying. Like, about to eat my own tongue. If the guys don't hurry up and light that fire, I'm just gonna start digging into the marshmallows, and nobody's gonna be able to stop me."

Claudia chuckles. "I will totally join you. We can demolish them together."

We laugh and that laughter only grows when we turn to find the guys giving the fire their best attempts.

"Why's it not lighting!" Cooper shrieks softly, tossing a box of matches into the center of the stick TeePee and then dousing it all with lighter fluid.

"Dude!" Bryson yells, hurrying to stop Cooper from reaching down to light the mess of sticks with a lighter. "Bad idea. You got anymore matches?"

I don't realize his question is directed at me until he says my name and repeats himself.

"Oh, yes," I nod. "Of course. I'm pretty sure I bought every pack in the store."

I dig through some bags shoved beneath the drink table that I've set up just outside of the circle of chairs surrounding the fire pit. When I find what I'm looking for, I fumble to toss them at Bryson and watch as he has to lunge forward to catch my lousy throw. With a quick 'thanks' he turns around and warns everyone to stand back. And then like a pro, he swipes the stick across the box and tosses it into the pile. I watch it erupt into a gorgeous blaze of warmth and mesmerizing flames.

"Whoo hoo!" Cooper hollers, slapping his friend, Randell, on the back. "Let's get this party started."

"So you and Bryson, huh?" I brave asking as Claudia and I fill Styrofoam cups with hot cocoa.

"Oh." Claudia quickly shakes her head in the negative. "No. I mean, he's cute. I think he likes me, maybe. But I'm not sure he's my type."

"Why's that?"

"He's kind of quiet, I guess." She dips her brows to think. "No, not quiet. Just reserved. I prefer goofy, loud guys who are looking to have a good time. You know what I mean? Like, I want them to make me laugh."

"Is there a certain someone you have in mind?" I wiggle my brows at her.

"Yeah, but—"

"Oh, come one," I coax, slapping her forearm gently. "Spill."

She groans softly before glancing over her shoulder at the guys around the fire. Then she takes a step closer to me and whispers, "Cooper."

I gasp, my lips stretching into a grin as Claudia smashes her hand against my face and pushes me away from her. I don't miss the soft, embarrassed chuckle leaving her lips as she takes a cautious sip of her cocoa.

"I'm so telling," I whisper, turning like I'm going to holler for Cooper.

"Don't you dare!" The strangled squeal that leaves Claudia's lips has laughter bursting from my throat and I can only hope spit didn't fly out with the sound.

I wave away her concern, still working to reign in my amusement before I nudge her with my elbow. "Don't worry. I'm cruel, but not that cruel." I pause to turn, watching the guys goofing off around the fire. Claudia is right; Cooper is a hoot. A dorky, adorable, funny hoot. Whatever he's saying has the rest of his friends cracking up and I find a smile turning up the corners of my lips.

"Good," Claudia nods. "Because if you do decide to be cruel, just remember... two can play at that game."

I follow her gaze to where Bryson is sitting before shooting a startled glance back her way. She lifts her brows, a sly grin sneaking across her lips as she sips at her drink.

"How—?"

"Really?" Her face drops as if she's actually disappointed that I'd find her so dumb.

"Right." Of course she's aware of my feelings. Apparently the whole world is... except Bryson himself. I nod once, taking a drink and doing my best not to stare at the beautiful boy laughing just beyond the fire.

Shadows dance across his face, making him appear far more mature than his seventeen years and my heart squeezes at the sight. He's the perfect mix of warm, tender, and safe, but he's also oblivious and distant... at least, when it comes to me he is. I'm not even on his radar. That's what I tell myself... until his gaze flickers to me. I drop my eyes to the ground and kick at the grass, shocked by the sudden attention.

My skin feels hot, even with the cool breeze nipping at me. Risking it, I take a peek at him again only to find that he's not even sitting anymore. Instead, he's striding right toward me. This is it. That moment that seems to always happen to other people. Eyes lock, hearts start hammering, palms start perspiring. He's going to finally make a move!

And then he slips right past me, his hand grazing my arm politely as he steps up to the drink table and turns his attention to Claudia before pouring himself a steaming cup of cocoa.

"You guys made that look too good," he tells us even though his attention remains on her. She lets out a soft laugh as she shoots me a strange look behind his back.

I simply shrug and leave the couple to find a seat around the fire. I refuse to let something so minor deflate my entire mood. So instead, I block out Bryson's voice as he chatters away with the gorgeous Claudia and anxiously wait for Chloe to arrive and save me from my misery.

---

Some character introductions in this chapter, but don't worry, things will heat up pretty quickly in this story. :D