Luke Strange to find myself back on Dad’s lawn, feeling differently than even just weeks ago, when I was here with Cassie. I felt as if I had been chewed up and spit out, but tougher for it. Less static. Less of the elephant-on-the-chest feeling. Less doubt, even when I thought of Cassie, and came up with only questions. at was how this worked, I was realizing. Big questions had only small answers, barely answers at all, more like fractions of answers, and you just had to hope that one day those fractions would come together to form something passable. Dad and Jake were approaching from the cooler, fresh beers in their hands. “And then Luke starts chanting,” Jake was telling Dad. “And the whole crowd is like”—he made the airy, loud whisper that people make when they’re imitating crowds—“Jacob, Jacob, Jacob.” “I mean, it’s a year’s worth of Gino’s,” I said, letting out a laugh. “Big moment. Lot on the line.” “Except Gino’s pizza tastes like cardboard soaked in grease,” my dad said. Jake shook his head. “You just like undercooked dough, is your problem.” Dad made a pff sound, and sent a sunflower seed rocketing a little too close to Jake to seem accidental. Jake put up a forearm to block it, laughing. We were quiet again, watching JJ make a nonsense-soundfilled circle around Hailey, who was sitting in the grass, sipping a beer.
Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket, stared at it, and began texting furiously. I looked back at JJ. ough I was hopeful about the charges being dropped, I was planning for the worst, where Cassie was concerned. I was resigned that no matter how I ended up, wanting Cassie from a distance and knowing she’d never want me was the most manageable way to think. My method: I could think of things that I liked about her, and then replace them with some very concrete, tangible elements in the present moment. ing: I missed the way her car smelled. Replacement: e fresh-cut grass. Remnants of Dad’s meatball burgers on the grill. ing: I missed the way she shuffled around her wood floors in her socks, not bothering to pick up her feet because, as she said, “It’s fun, it feels like ice skating.” Replacement: e sound of Jake snorting to himself as he looked at his phone. A casual moment. A kind of moment that I had taken for granted. ing: her singing voice. Replacement: I didn’t have one yet. Jake cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. Luke.” “Yeah,” I said. “You’re gonna wanna check around the house.” I shot him a puzzled look, but he just shrugged. I made my way across the yard, and squinted beyond the back door. A car was pulling into the driveway. A beat-up white Subaru, to be exact.
Cassie I texted Jake when I got close to Buda. at way I couldn’t back out. I sped, making the twenty-minute journey in fieen, and each time I thought about turning around, I pressed the gas more. What was I going to do, run into his dad’s backyard and give him a Hollywood kiss? Here’s looking at you, kid. God, they were going to think I was crazy. I was going to solidify every stereotype about emotional women that ever existed. Crazed, illogical, blind to the rules of society. Rules like speed limits and whether a relatively random woman could just waltz into someone’s private property and declare love. I was just a woman with something to say. I just wanted him to know. at’s all. He could do whatever he wanted with it. I fucking helped him take a bath, for God’s sake. e least he could do was hear me out. I slowed down as I approached, and parked in the driveway. I took a deep breath, and got out. As I came around the house, my hands were shaking. “Hey,” I called when the backyard came into view, shielding my eyes from the sun. Luke’s mouth was hanging open. He was wearing his dress blues, looking handsome and distinguished and unapologetically happy. Jake was covering his face, trying not to laugh. Luke’s dad was looking at me like I was a crazy woman.
Fuck ’em. I approached Luke. He was still smiling. at was a good sign. I could hear Jake and his wife muttering to each other. “Hi,” I said, stuffing my hands firmly in my pockets. “Hi,” he said. Well, this was it, the fuck it moment. I motioned to a corner of the yard. Luke met me near a patch of bushes. “I’m sorry I missed the ceremony,” I started. “I just needed to come anyway. Because aer we talked, I thought a lot.” “Yeah, me, too,” he said. My heart lied. “Really?” “Really.” He swallowed. “But go ahead.” I pressed tighter into my pockets. Holding myself together. I stared at the grass below my feet. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense for us to, you know, be involved aer everything that’s happened. But I need you to know that—” It felt wrong to say this to the ground. I looked up at him. “I love you.” His eyebrows raised, those long lashes blinking in surprise over the blue-gray eyes. He wasn’t responding. at’s okay. At least I said it. And yet. “And I don’t mean it in a shallow way, you know, like, in love, like what someone would say in a Disney movie, or what teenagers say to each other so they can have sex.” He laughed. “I mean it without a doubt, like the old people who hold hands on the street. I care for you, I will always care for you, I love you, and I will wait for you, if that’s what we need to do.” “Cassie, I—” he began, taking a deep breath, and looking past me. Just say something. I looked back down at the lawn. My old friend, the lawn. “I love you, too.”
My eyes snapped upward. He reached out his hands, hesitant, and put them on my shoulders. “I love you.” “Really?” My heart expanded, flooded with light. “Really.” We moved together at the same time. I wrapped my arms around his neck, meeting his open mouth with mine, pushing into his lips with a sure kiss, a relieved kiss, a kiss with his still hands on my ribs, his fingertips sliding around to my back, mine brushing his chest, exploring in a way we had never gotten a chance to before. “So no matter how the hearing goes, we’re going to do this?” he asked when we let go. “No matter how it goes,” I said. “And we’re going to win. Well, we’re going to fight it hard, anyway.” “Damn right, we are,” he said, wrapping an arm around me, pressing, holding. I looked over at his family, and gave a feeble wave. Jake and Jacob senior turned away, pretending to fiddle with the grill. Hailey hid a smile behind a cough, and JJ stared unabashedly, a toy car dangling from his hand, forgotten. I turned back to Luke, and looked at the time. It was five. We were going on at nine. “Shit.” I smiled at him. “I gotta go play a show.” “Okay.” We headed side by side toward the driveway, skipping every other step, making good time. He took my hand as we walked. My eyes pricked hot, wet. “Cassie,” Luke said suddenly. “Yeah?” I said through my tears. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, or how this will work, but I love you,” he said. I let go of his hand, and got into the car.
He added through the window, “And then we’ll go from there.” I nodded at him, unable to speak. As I backed out of the driveway, Luke waved. I waved back. Luke was right; we didn’t know what we’d do. We knew we were no longer the worst things everyone once thought of us. We weren’t criminals or addicts or liars or cheats, but what came aer, we didn’t know. But maybe we didn’t have to know. We’d love each other, first and foremost, and then we’d go from there.
Acknowledgments ank you to Lanie Davis, Annie Stone, and the entire team at Alloy Entertainment. ank you to Emma Colón for her time and her sharp eyes on the outline. ank you to Aimee, Ondrea Stachel, and Kim Ross for sharing their experience with diabetes. And finally, big thanks to Kyle Jarrow for the inspiration, and to Emily Bestler for putting Purple Hearts out into the world.
About the Author TESS WAKEFIELD works in Golden Valley, Minnesota, as a copywriter, an amateur comedian, and a caretaker for several thriving plants. Purple Hearts is her first novel for adults. MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT SimonandSchuster.com Facebook.com/AtriaBooks @AtriaBooks Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Tess-Wakefield
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An Imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY 10020 www.SimonandSchuster.com is book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2017 by Alloy Entertainment, LLC All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Atria Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020. First Emily Bestler Books/Atria Paperback edition April 2017 and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc. For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected]. e Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. Design by Laura Levatino Cover design by Connie Gabbert Cover photograph by David Wu Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available. ISBN 978-1-5011-3649-8 ISBN 978-1-5011-3650-4 (ebook)