by Colbie Kay
Copyright © 2019 by Colbie Kay
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the content is a model.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Designer: T.E. Black Designs
Formatting and Editing: Maria Vickers
CONTENTS
I. Poppy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
II. Julien
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
III. Poppy & Julien
16. Julien
17. Poppy
18. Julien
19. Poppy
20. Julien
21. Poppy
22. Julien
23. Poppy
24. Julien
Epilogue
Play List
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Colbie Kay
WISHING IN THE DARK
COLBIE KAY
To my readers! I love you all and wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you.
T his has been the best summer! It’s the first time I got to go with my brothers to spend a whole two weeks with my best friend, my grandpa, or, as I like to call him, my Pawpaw. Him and Grandma are my mom’s parents, and they live less than an hour away from my house. We don’t see them much throughout the school year, but when summer comes, my brothers stay with them until the end of July because that’s my birthday.
The little town is much like where I live in Wishing, Kansas. Everyone knows everyone, and it doesn’t take long to walk from one side of town to the other; although, Beaufort is smaller than Wishing. Pawpaw always says Beaufort and Wishing have nothing to offer, and that’s why my dad drives to the bigger city to work. He says, “Pop-Pop if you’re ever gonna make anything of yourself, you must see the world.” But I like living in Wishing, and I love Beaufort because of Pawpaw. Maybe when I’m older I’ll have to drive somewhere for work too, and I’ll go see lots of places, but I think I’ll like the big city or being too far from my family.
Pawpaw’s about to take me to my favorite place of all, and I’m bouncing on my heels because I’m so excited. He always smiles and asks why the tiny store makes me so happy. I just tell him it’s because he takes me there. I don’t really have any reason to like it so much, but I love our adventures.
While Grandma is busy in the house and my brothers are with their friends, me and Pawpaw sneak off to the grocery store where he buys me the sweets, which according to Grandma I’m not supposed to have–insert my eye roll. I also get a cheap little toy that I think is the best toy in the whole wide world.
As we walk back to the house, I pop my gun the entire way until the tiny blue house appears. To my right is Pawpaw’s garden I’ve been helping him with the last two weeks, and in the distance is his shed the same color as the house. When I say it’s blue, I don’t mean blue like a normal house, I mean blue like the color of cotton candy. It’s so bright. I’ve never seen another house this color. You can see it a mile away. It’s the easiest house to find.
Instead of going in, we head for the shed. It’s like a cave of treasures in here, but, in reality, it’s just Pawpaw’s old dusty tools. I hate spiders, but in here, I don’t care about the webs that cover the ceiling and walls or the ones hanging down so low, they almost touch Pawpaw’s short spiky silver hair. I’m happy to go anywhere with him because he always makes everything into an adventure or makes it seem like a treasure hunt.
Once he’s done gathering what he needs while I continue to pop my gun, we step back out of the shed and move to the garden. I stomp through the rows of growing green vines looking for any watermelons that are ripe.
"Pop-Pop,” He yells for me from a few rows over. He always calls me Pop-Pop. Pawpaw is the only one allowed to call me that. It’s me and him, Pawpaw and Pop-Pop, everyone else has to call me by my real name Poppy Montgomery–except Julien Pierce, he calls me P. He’s my best friend at home, and he’s lived next door to me ever since I can remember, and I’m only eight so that’s a long time. “I found one!" He announces to get my attention.
I excitedly run to where he's standing and bend down to pick up the big fruit he cut from the vine. It's way bigger in my little arms and so heavy. I struggle to carry it out of the garden, but I make it to the picnic table and set the watermelon down with a thud. Pawpaw grabs the knife he had sitting there. He sneaked it out of the kitchen before we walked to the store. Grandma would be mad if she knew he took it. She gets mad a lot.
My mouth waters when he cuts into the juicy fruit and hands me a piece bigger than my head. After, Pawpaw asks, "How many boyfriends do you have now?"
I giggle at the question. It’s the same one he asks me all the time. "I have ten." I always say some crazy number. He knows I don’t have any boyfriends. I don’t even like boys…well, except Julien, but he doesn’t count. He’s not gross like the other boys at school.
His eyes widen, and he laughs. “What am I gonna do with you, Pop-Pop?”
I eat as much of the pink juicy watermelon as I can and set the rind down on the table. "Watch, Pawpaw." I jump up from the table and begin to kick my feet and do some fancy footwork.
"Why, I think you're the best tap dancer I’ve ever seen." He sets his leftover watermelon next to mine and pulls out his harmonica from the pocket of his denim jeans. With a shaky hand, he begins to play a tune while watching me dance. I've noticed Pawpaw's hands have been shakier this summer than any other time I’ve seen him.
After my dance, he puts the harmonica back into his pocket, and we walk over to the porch to sit and watch for any cars that drive by. He picks a dandelion out of the ground and rubs it on my chin.
"Pawpaw!" I shriek and giggle. "Is my chin yellow?" I lift my head up to the sky for him to see, but the sun is beginning to set. We’ve been outside all day, avoiding Grandma. She’s not very nice and doesn’t like it when we’re playing around. She says we make too much noise.
The screen door opens. "Dinner’s done, you two. Go wash up." Grandma slams the door closed.
Pawpaw and I give each other a look before we both laugh. Right on time, my brothers come running up to the porch.
When all of us have washed our hands, we sit down at the dining room table. Pawpaw takes one of my hands w
hile my brother, Sean, takes the other. We bow our heads, and Grandma says grace before we begin filling our plates with food.
“Poppy, you know that house across the street, the big stone one?” My other brother, Holden, questions.
“Yeah.” I narrow my eyes. He knows I hate that house. No one has ever lived there because it’s too scary, and at night, it’s all dark with big scary bushes surrounding it. The tree branches come out from the trunks like big arms that’ll grab you and pull you into the trees never to be seen again. I shiver at the thought.
“You know it’s haunted, right?” He begins to tell me.
“Holden, stop. You don’t tell her that, and we don’t talk about such things in this house,” Grandma scolds. Grandma is very religious; she talks about a lot of things being the Devil’s work. She doesn’t even let us watch T.V.
“Sorry.” He hangs his head.
Not another word is spoken during dinner, the only sound you hear is the clinking of silverware against our plates. By the time we’re done eating, it’s completely dark outside. Pawpaw grabs an empty mason jar off the kitchen counter. "Come on, Pop-Pop."
“She needs to bathe.” Grandma gives Pawpaw a look like she does when she gets after one of us kids.
“She can bathe after. We won’t be out long.” He never lets her boss him around. I dip my head down to hide my smile because I would for sure get in trouble then.
I follow him outside where he takes the lid off the mason jar. "What are we doing?" I asked excitedly.
He holds the mason jar and lid out for me to take. "You see the fireflies?"
I glance around us and watch as the darkness begins to flicker. "Yeah."
He smiles. "Okay, go catch as many as you can in the jar, put the lid on, and bring it back to the tree. Don’t forget to put the lid back on or they will fly out." He sits down in the grass and leans against the whispering willow. I slowly take a few steps toward the flashing lights. I have trouble at first, but once I get the hang of it, I begin to catch more and more lightning bugs. Once I have about ten in my jar, I take it back over with the lid on and sit beside him. "You did good." His smile widens. "Now, hold the jar in your hands and make a wish." I do as I’m told, and when I open my eyes, he says, "Now, release them." I follow his instructions, and it's so pretty watching them fly from the jar. "Anytime you want to make a wish, you do this, and all of your wishes will come true."
"Can we do it again?" I beg.
"Sorry, Pop-Pop, but it's time for you to get ready for bed. Your mom will be here in the morning to pick you up, and we don’t want to make Grandma too mad.” He grins down at me. “We'll do it next time, okay?” He holds a finger up. “But only if you have a wish to make.”
"Okay." I pout.
“We can stay out just a little longer though, and I’ll tell you a story."
My smile returns and grows as my eyes light up, ready to hear his story. I love Pawpaw’s stories.
“This story is about Wishing, Kansas.”
I interrupt with wide eyes. “Hey, that’s where I live!”
He chuckles. “It is.” He nods and continues, “When I was your age, I lived in Wishing.”
My brows shot up my forehead. “You did?”
He nods again. “I did and so did your grandma. We grew up in Wishing and lived there until we got married and moved here to Beaufort.”
My head tilts to the side. “Why did you move?”
“Because of work. When your grandma and I were young, there was a factory here in Beaufort. Lots of jobs, but as the years went on, the factory shut down, and everyone had to find work in other towns. Like your dad, they drive to the big city.” I let him go on, “Did you know Wishing, Kansas is the only place that has fireflies all throughout the year? No matter the season or how cold it may get, when night falls, they appear, flashing their lights for wishes to be made. That’s how Wishing got its name. The old tale says you are supposed to catch the fireflies, make your wish, and release them–just like I taught you. They will fly to the heavens, bringing your wishes with them so they will come true.”
I sit, entranced as he finishes his story. “Wow, Pawpaw! I’m never going to forget!”
He pats my leg. “It’s time for your bath and to get ready for bed.” He stands and holds his hand out to help me up.
I slowly walk beside him back to the house, trying to hold in my tears. I’m going to miss him, and I don’t want to leave him tomorrow.
MOM DRIVES down the only main street we have in town, past all of the stores owned by locals until she finally turns on our street. All the while, I have my mason jar held tightly against my chest. I’m so excited to see Julien, and I can’t wait to tell him all about my time with Pawpaw. Opening the back door, I step out.
“Hey, P!” Julien is waiting at the end of his driveway on his bright green bicycle with his pearly white smile. My heart flutters like wings of butterflies at the sight of him.
Glancing at Julien, I reply, “Hey, J!” I look at my mom. “Can I ride my bike with him?” I practically beg. I’ve missed him so much, and I don’t think in all of our eight years together, we’ve ever spent this much time apart. At our age, two whole weeks is a lifetime to be away from each other.
She grins and nods. “Put your stuff in your room first.”
I quickly grab my backpack out of the car and run into the house to my room. I don’t bother unpacking, I just throw my bag on my bed and safely put my jar on my shelf, then I run like a speed racer back outside.
Getting on my purple bike, I catch up to Julien who’s now riding up and down our street. “Did you have fun at your grandma and grandpa’s?” He asks once I’m next to him.
I holler back, “Yeah, did you have fun while I was gone?”
He doesn’t answer just shrugs his shoulders. When we get down the block, I stop riding. “What happened?”
“Nothing really.” His eyes drop. “Just the usual–them fighting. Thanks for keeping your window unlocked.”
My brows pull down. “You’re welcome.” Julien’s parents fight a lot, and when the fighting is really bad, he sneaks into my room to get away. No one knows he comes over so it’s our little secret.
His eyes meet mine. “I missed you, P.”
I grin and feel my cheeks turning pink. “I missed you too, J.”
We spend the rest of the day together until it’s time for us to go to our own homes for dinner. Later that night, when I’m lying in bed, I hear my window opening. Without saying a word, I lift my covers for him to climb into bed.
“Night, Poppy.”
“Night, Julien.”
I never ask questions. I learned not to when I realized he was never going to talk about what happens or how bad it gets.
I think back to that summer when I was eight-years-old and wonder how everything got so messed up. Why does everything have to change as you grow? Why do the kids at school have to be so mean? Why do people have to blame you when they don’t know your circumstances? Why do small towns turn you and your family into outcasts?
As I walk through the halls during my last year in middle school, I hear the whispers and the harsh words from my classmates as they talk about me. “She’s such a whore.” “Look there’s the town slut.” They laugh, not caring that I can hear them. I hear the words spoken about my parents when we roam through the grocery store, and all I can think is this is my fault. Not only that, but I think about how I ruined this town’s reputation of never having a scandal. I wish I could say it’ll go away or things will change, but that’s not the case. I’ve made so many wishes since Pawpaw told me that story, and while his story was mostly correct, I learned some wishes will never come true.
I think back to that summer when I was eight-years-old, and I would give anything to go back in time. To the time when I had no worries, no care in the world, and back to when everything was easy. But I can’t, and now, I have to deal with what is about to happen and how my life will forever be changed. It all started l
ast summer…
“Hey, Poppy,” Julien Pierce, the boy with the last name which matches his eyes, the ex-best friend, yells from his driveway when I step outside into the June heat.
We’ve grown apart since we entered middle school. I don’t know what happened when we moved from fifth to sixth grade, but Julien changed. Maybe I did too. Somewhere along the way, riding bikes together stopped, then the, “Hey, P,” “Hey, J!” stopped. Now, we barely speak, and if we do, it’s nothing more than a “hey” here and there. We each found a new circle of friends. In fact, right at this moment, he’s playing basketball with some of the other boys in our grade, his new best friends. All of the girls want to be Julien’s girlfriend, and all of the boys want to be his best friend. My lips curl in disgust, jealousy, anger…I don’t know, but it makes me feel some type of way toward Julien Pierce. I’ve thought about punching him and his new sidekicks between the eyes a time or two.
Julien is one of the popular kids now, whereas I am not. I know the appeal all too well. He’s tanned with blond hair and piercing blue eyes–like I said, his last name fits him well. He reminds me of a surfer, and at one point in time, I crushed on him pretty hard. No, crush isn’t exactly the right word. Julien Pierce was the love of my life. Even at eight-years-old, I knew it, but I could never work up the courage to tell him how I felt because we were friends, and I was scared of what his reaction would be. I’m glad I kept it to myself now. His friends would have a hay day at my expense for wanting the boy I could never have. I’ll never understand why kids have to be so mean.