— 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓈 —

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓭𝓪𝔂 came quicker than Chloe predicted, and before she had the ability to plead any higher presence for the halt of time, she was patiently awaiting Maxen's company. The atmosphere of the neighborhood grew bitter with a morning wind that practically bit at the blonde's exposed skin. She closes her eyes, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear while listening to the soft hum of the birds that endlessly called out to one another, singing as they had the day before. This could be a new routine for her, she admitted to herself: here, standing in silence while anticipating her new friend's company with lips as dormant as the once effervescent, crimson buds that blossomed near the river behind her cedar-crafted home. Today will be one in which Maxen will be her 'escort' — his own words, spoken in the foyer the previous night — throughout his first complete tour of Bridgewood's finest establishments. And just before the sun sets beyond the horizon at the end of the day, the two will attend the football game . . . but Chloe will unknowingly have one remaining task with her neighbor. Understanding her feelings for Brooks, Max would have to wait until the last moment to tell her that they have further plans for the day, ones that included late-night burgers at the diner with the West boy and his home-wrecking sidekick.

But for now, his concern is surviving seven hours of education while attempting to contain his exhaustion. Maxen stumbles from his home, squinting at the smiling girl who waits for him. "Why is it that you're showing emotion so early in the morning? My brain doesn't have the capacity for that."

"I went to sleep at a decent hour," she giggles, covering her mouth for a brief second as he nearly trips in the corridor, "and you should have, too. Restlessness doesn't become you, Max, you look as though you will fall at any given moment."

Still managing the ability to be flirtatious, he winks and drapes an arm around her as they begin their walk. "If I happen to fall for any reason, just know that it'll be head-over-heels for you."

Chloe shoves him away, shaking her head at his antics before halting to button his quarter-sleeve shirt. "It's unfortunate that you can flirt, but you can't remember to dress properly. Loose morals, if I do say so myself."

"You prefer when my shirt is unbuttoned," he teases, poking her flushed cheeks that are dusted with a natural pale pink. "Look how adorable you are when you blush, I should fluster you more often if this is the reaction I get in return."

Groaning, the girl swats his hand away, "I'm not flustered, Max."

Laughing as they once again continue on their course, he decides to end her embarrassment by introducing a new topic. "I assume your best friend will be joining us today, and will absorb every ounce of your attention."

As he stares down at her, she can't help but notice how irrevocably handsome he is. Though his appearance is a bit disheveled, the maroon button-up brings out the deep sienna of his eyes. But as she grows aware of her own blossoming thoughts, Chloe finds herself burying her feelings deep within her chest and completely overlooking the fact that she had them to begin with.

"How the tables have turned," Chloe giggles, "is that jealousy in your tone? I assure you, Maya and I don't spend every waking moment together. Besides, she will take an interest to you like I have, I'm sure of it."

Chloe's pace is steady, but Maxen falters in his place and chews on his bottom lip. "You don't think she will want to join us after school, do you?"

"You know, jealousy really isn't a good color on you," she pats his back, encouraging him forward. "If she questions my whereabouts for the rest of the day, I'll tell her that you requested a private audience for the evening so we can get to know one another."

"What about the game tonight? She could accompany us then, and afterwards we can all . . . " Max pauses before revealing the newest, and unannounced, addition to their agenda. "I mean — after it ends, we can all walk home together."

"In the dark?" Chloe raises an eyebrow, unsuspecting of the secret. "Maya lives four blocks away from here, that would be ridiculous. We can take my car, but there is no way that you are driving."

Relieved, he scoffs at his friend. "Why is that, Chloe? Are you sexist, or just persecuting me for my beliefs?"

"I'm completely unaware of your beliefs," she rolls her eyes and ignores his complaints. "Your mother was scolding you yesterday, and I overheard her mentioning how you totaled your last vehicle. Why would I wish that upon my own?"

"Please let me drive," he begs, latching onto her backpack as the campus parking lot can be spotted in the distance. "I promise I will be responsible with your safety in mind."

"Max, let go of my backpack," she sighs heavily, but turns, nonetheless. "Why are you so adamant on being the chauffeur?"

Straightening his posture, Maxen grins and places his hand under her chin. "Because I'm taking a beautiful girl out today. You deserve to have fun, Chloe, and I want to be the one to make that happen."

"Having you drive my car has nothing to do with fun," Chloe is unable to hide the smile that tugs at the corner of her lips, "but you've convinced me."

She leaves him behind in his own astonishment, but faces the boy once again to deprive him of his smug countenance. "Here's a tip for the future: flattery never works on me, and it certainly didn't sway my decision this time. Save it for someone else."

But, in fact, Chloe's heart is practically beating from her chest as Max jogs to catch up with her, only to place an arm around her once again while maintaining contentment. Because this feels right between them — in this peaceful space, it's just the two; Chloe and Max, teenagers without responsibilities or pressure from the incessantly cruel world around them. They can imagine a life that is kind, one that shows mercy to those who deserve it most.

And they can pretend there isn't a spark between them that flourishes when the other is near.

"Chloe, you're finally here!" Maya Paxton jumps from her car, springing forward to embrace her closest friend. "I'm sorry I left you alone yesterday, Daddy was so focused on football plays, and homecoming is already on his job description, so it was basically just a tsunami of work piled up for the two of us to — wait, who is this?"

Maya's bright, questioning eyes are on Maxen now, expecting an introduction.

"This," Chloe gestures to the boy, "is Max, a member of the family renovating the house next door. I happen to think that the two of you will get along quite nicely."

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The bakery is compact and warm, Maxen notices — it smells of pumpkin spice and vanilla buttercream, and the pastel furniture creates a soft atmosphere that reminds him of Chloe's ambience. A chandelier glistens against the effervescent sunlight that passes through the windows at the front of the shop, and rows upon rows of various sweets are displayed in a glass case only feet away from the two. The walls are painted a pale shade of yellow, and achromatic framed photos with twinkling fairy lights are hung around the bakery to show contrast. It feels welcoming, Max finds; the previous town he lived in had no such place to retire to, nor did it offer the feel of his own home while simultaneously providing treats. Chloe practically glows the moment they step inside, a delicate smile falling upon her features as she greets the familiar woman behind the counter.

"It's so nice to see you again, Chloe," the older woman with raven waves begins with liveliness, audibly pleased by the Williams girl's appearance, "but I wasn't expecting you until Saturday with your parents. Is this a special occasion?"

"I suppose you could consider this a significant visit. I brought my friend on a tour, and I couldn't surpass the opportunity of stopping by." But before Chloe had even spoken of the newest addition of the town, the baker had already grinned at the waiting boy. Never before had the blonde accompanied a boy in her shop, all the while smiling as though he is the only remaining star in a sky of darkness.

"I'm Maxen Lars," he steps forward, offering a hand to shake. "My family and I moved to Bridgewood a couple days ago, and Chloe mentioned your bakery to my mother the moment they met."

"Elizabeth Warren," the woman informs him, a sparkle in her eye that suggests she knows something he doesn't. "I predicted nothing less from Chloe. She's been a customer since the grand opening, and spends time here every weekend to study. I held her the day she was born — her mother and I have been close since we graduated high school together."

Elizabeth's slender silhouette is doused in a sleek white uniform that buttons at her side, and an orchid apron that is tied into a neat bow at her waist. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail by her right ear with a silk scrunchy that suggests her easygoing personality — she appears so calm and collected, and Max suddenly understands why Chloe connects with her so easily. With a soft voice and kind eyes, he realizes that he knows no individual that would be disappointed after meeting her.

Chloe nudges Max, finding his lineaments highlighted with complacency. "I consider Elizabeth my second mother. While everyone else chooses to party, I prefer to be here. Sometimes she even allows me to get behind the register."

"Chloe has the tendency to overlook things that are right in front of her," Max clicks his tongue, laughing as she whines. "I wouldn't trust her at the counter either. She already turned me down, if that gives further clarification to my point."

Elizabeth's blue eyes find those of her almost-daughter's, suggesting that she would require an explanation in their future alone time. Although she is lost in the temptation to ask, the bakery owner disregards the details and chooses to entice them with the sweets she made from scratch. "Before I ask any favors, could I interest the two of you in any pastries?"

"I would love a — "

"Cannoli, a chocolate eclair with whipped cream, and a French criollo with sliced strawberries and a caramel drizzle," Elizabeth finishes with nonchalance, accustomed to her usual order. "I just finished some fresh lemonade, so I'll be sure to bring it out for you. What can I get for you, Max?"

"Could I have a choux sugar pastry, and a lemon custard cream puff, please?"

"Of course," Elizabeth nods, scribbling on a notepad with the silver fountain pen Chloe purchased for her birthday the month before. As Max makes a move to remove cash from his wallet, she halts his actions with the wave of her hand. "It's on the house, anything for my favorite teenagers."

"Did you hear that, Chloe? I'm one of her favorite teenagers already," he teases her. "Thank you, Miss Warren."

"Of course," she nods, retrieving their pastries as Chloe leads Max to a small table as Elizabeth prepares their requests. "As you know, the pumpkin festival is coming up soon, which means business will be booming."

"You participate in the festival?" Max questions, recalling that his mother had spoken of it the night before.

"She offers seasonal dishes," Chloe explains, running her fingers through her blonde hair. "Autumn bread, sweet potato pie, cinnamon rolls, pumpkin crumb cake muffins — you name it, and Liz has a recipe for it. When tourists flood in for the festival, she always needs helping hands."

Elizabeth places their plated treats, and seats herself alongside them. "It's five days away, and I haven't even begun to decorate. That's where I'm hoping the two of you can be of assistance."

"I have all the free time in the world," Max tells her, shrugging his shoulder, "I would love to help out. Is there anything in particular you can think of?"

"Lots of pumpkins," Elizabeth suggests as Chloe bites into her cannoli and hums in satisfaction. "I can give you the funds, and you could go to the pumpkin patch."

"I'll drive," the girl replies, placing a monogrammed napkin against her lips. "And we can decorate on Saturday after Max auditions for the football team."

Max chuckles, "We aren't talking about theatrics, Chlo-bear. The proper term would be 'tryout'. Besides, I'd ditch anything to hang out with you."

The Williams girl overlooks the nickname and points an accusing finger at him. "Coach Paxton will not accept your refusal, Maya already told him that you were a good player. We can stay late, I have a spare key for the bakery and I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind."

Maxen closes his eyes, too lost in the taste of his cream puff to do anything other than agree. Chloe laughs at him as he speechlessly pumps his fist in the air, blowing a kiss in her direction. "You are an angel for bringing me this piece of heaven. I should take you out more often."

But the baker is staring at the pulchritude girl, her ocean eyes implying everything that her words will not: a bond like this one only presents itself once in a lifetime. This endless tether intertwining their destinies isn't an accident — Maxen's newfound presence isn't an accident.

It's a gift from fate that will slip from Chloe's fingertips if she waits a moment longer.

_______

❝ i'm not sure if any of you
remember the old version of this book,
but it's so completely different. if you
read it, let me know if you like the
changes to the plot & characters! ❞