How to Make a Wish
Page 25
I stop at a huge oak tree and press my palms against the cool, rough bark. My eyes spill over as I turn, sliding down the trunk until I hit the ground. The October night air is cool and thick. Leaning my head against the bark, I look up into the dense leaves and try to breathe normally. Something red and diamond-shaped is caught in the gnarly branches. A kite maybe.
Minutes pass and with each one some guy’s face blooms in my memory. Guys I barely knew except through Kat or from my old neighborhood swim team. Guys who really meant nothing to me.
I wrap my arms around knees, pulling myself in further and further. I drop my head onto my arms, breathing in the earthy, damp smell of the ground below me. I shiver, but it has nothing to do with the cold. Instead, my own anger and embarrassment pull goose bumps from my skin, exposing them to the wind. I always ask the guy if he has a girlfriend. Always. And I’ve trusted myself to be able to sniff out a lie. I’ve had enough experience with lying assholes, that’s for sure.
Jaw clenching, I push myself to my feet and make my way back to the house. I run again, nerves and anger coursing through my veins, surging me forward. The back deck is packed when I jog up the steps. Music blasts out of the open door, and bodies move in its rhythm. I elbow my way through the crowd, my eyes searching for Josh.
“Hadley!” Kat calls, edging through a clump of dancing girls.
“Have you seen him?”
“Who?”
“Josh-I’m-a-lying-jackhole-Ellison.”
She frowns. “I saw him leave with some guys from the team.”
“Dammit!” I shove my hands through my hair and slump down onto the rough wooden bench that encircles the deck.
A lip-locked couple bumps into Kat, propelling her forward. She shoots them a halfhearted dirty look and sits next to me. “Why do you want to talk to Josh?”
“I just do.”
Kat shakes her head and sighs heavily. “Just let it go, Had. He’s a jerk, but it’s done. Let it go.”
I dig my nails into my jeans, but say nothing. Let it go, Hadley. Those words are in every look my dad gives me, every irritated sigh issued from my mother’s lips. Every wary glance from Kat.
Kat says something about making her curfew. We weave through the crowd and into the house, making our way toward the front door. In the living room, I see Jenny balled into one corner of the love seat, knees tucked to her chest. Our gazes lock and she shakes her head slightly before looking away.
Just get over it, Hadley.
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About the Author
Credit: Craig Pope
ASHLEY HERRING BLAKE is a reader, writer, and mom to two boisterous boys. She holds a master’s degree in teaching and loves coffee, arranging her books by color, and eating peanut butter right out of the jar. Ashley is the author of Suffer Love and she lives in Nashville, Tennessee.
Learn more at www.ashleyherringblake.com
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