Kelly

THE MIDDAY SUN WARMS THE TOP OF my head, and I remove my baseball hat to run a hand through my hair, a tic that gives away my nerves should anyone be paying attention. A breeze ruffles the crispy leaves around my feet, the coolness of the wind a direct contrast to the heat of the sun. I scan the crowds of people at The Anderson Farm, my eyes searching for the one person that's been on my mind nonstop all week.

I wasn't looking forward to the annual fall festival before my fight with Sutton—having to continue with the pretense that she's only my friend's sister not high on my favorite things list—but now that she's held up the big STOP sign, I'm even less thrilled to be here. In fact, I debated skipping it altogether. If it weren't for the overwhelming need to see her, I would be holed up somewhere sulking. Or forcing my body into physical labor to quiet my tormented mind.

That's how my week's gone. I've put in as many extra hours working on the new house as my body would allow, working late into the night. Except now the house feels haunted. All the memories of her following me from room to room. I'm not sure which is worse: the ghost of Past Sutton detailing her design ideas or Future Sutton whispering what could have been, what almost was, what was just within reach.

I walk past a wagon full of colorful mums for sale, and I imagine Sutton setting up the display, getting everything just right for the festival. I didn't realize I paused in front of the flowers until I hear her voice; and, for a second, I wonder if I'm imagining it like all the other times this week where I've had conversations with her in my head. But when I turn toward the voice, I see her. My girl.

Sutton's hair looks even lighter highlighted in the sun, a golden halo, but it's her eyes that pull me in. The blue sparkles as she stares at me, worrying her lip between her teeth. Once she yanks the apron over her head, I notice the familiar white and black checked flannel dwarfing her body. The sleeves are rolled up a few times, but they still hang past her wrists. Seeing her in my shirt is like a jolt of caffeine, and I inhale a sharp breath to regulate my breathing.

"Kell?" Her soft, questioning voice brings me back to the present, and I take a few steps toward her.

"Shit, baby girl. I think you got prettier since the last time I saw you."

She looks away, her hand absently finding the heart necklace, gliding the pendant back and forth on the chain. "It's only been a few days," she finally says, returning her gaze to me.

"Feels like lifetimes," I grumble, fighting the urge to touch her. To plant my hands on her hips and draw her body into mine where she belongs.

"When did you get so dramatic?"

I risk another step closer to her, watching to see her reaction, and then when she doesn't move away, I take another until we're standing nearly toe to toe. I trace her facial features with my gaze, noting the dark circles under her eyes. She ducks her head under my perusal, and I yearn to lift her chin, demand she face whatever she sees when she looks at me.

"I just really fucking miss you, Sutton."

Her head shoots up at my admission, her eyes locked on me, and we simply stare at each other for several long moments.

"Kelly..." she begins but is cut off when someone calls her name. I look over my shoulder to see a group of people walking toward us and I groan realizing our private moment is being commandeered by the whole Anderson clan. Sutton takes a few steps away from me, holding up her hand to wave at her family.

"You ready?" Jensen asks, draping an arm around his sister. "Oh, hey, Kelly." He makes a big show of looking around the crowds of people on his farm and I immediately want to put my fist through his mouth to prevent what I know is about to come out of it. "Is she here? Hiding behind the flowers? Or did you stash her somewhere? Maybe the haunted house or the corn maze?"

"Give it a rest, J," Teddy scolds coming to stand next to me. I avoid eye contact with my long-time friend, just like I've been avoiding her texts since our run-in in Maybury last weekend. I don't even bother reading them, already knowing what they say—warnings to come clean to Jensen, passive-aggressive judgment on my choices, check-ins on how I'm doing.

"Give what a rest?" Finn asks, clearly not reading the room.

"Our boy here," Jensen begins with a sly smirk, and I groan, "is hiding his girl from us. Just like he did when I showed up at his house."

"What the fuck?" Finn laughs. "I don't know what's better. The fact that Kelly has a girl or that he's keeping her from us. Are you embarrassed? Oh wait, is she like super old or something? She's a MILF, right? Or a cougar?"

I ignore Finn as he runs his mouth because Sutton has managed to weasel her way out of her brother's arm, using the gossip as her distraction to run away. I watch as she disappears into the crowd, and I fight the urge to follow.

I feel a sharp elbow in my side, and I glare at Teddy. The others have left, moving in a pack toward the rows of food trucks lining the parking lot, but Teddy stayed back. To yell at me, no doubt. I clench my teeth in anticipation.

"You're an idiot playing this dangerous game, Kelly."

"I'm well aware."

With hands on her hips, she stares at me with unmasked disdain. "When I told you to go get your girl, I didn't mean to do it behind J's back. And you know it. So what the hell are you doing?"

I shake my head and throw my arms out wide. "Fuck, Teddy! I don't need this from you right now. I'm an idiot. I know I'm an idiot. I've almost lost Sutton. Hell, maybe I did lose her already. I don't need you telling me how serious the situation is. I'm fucking living this nightmare. I'm well aware of the deep shit I'm in."

She crosses her arms over her chest, heaving a big sigh. "Jesus, Kelly. I want to feel bad for you, but I'm too pissed off for the position you put me in. You know I hate keeping shit from Jensen."

"I'm going to talk to him. I've been trying to grow the balls to do it for weeks now. I'm a fucking coward, ok? I'm terrified."

"Kelly," she says, giving me the look I know to mean she's disappointed in me. "Give the man a little credit. He knows something's up. He's not stupid. He's been grumbling for weeks about how weird you're acting. He sees how much time you're spending with his sister. He may be in denial, but on some level he has to know. Just rip off the Band-Aid and talk to him already."

With a final look of disappointment leveled at me, she jogs to catch up with the group. I hang back, not in the mood to take any more of their shit.

I've started texts to Jensen dozens of times by now, quickly deleting them because I know that's the coward's way out. He deserves the respect of a face-to-face conversation. I've driven to his place twice this week, idling by the turnoff to the farm, before flooring it once I lose my nerve.

I wasn't lying when I told Sutton there's not a choice to make. She is my choice. I would choose her over and over again. I understand my lack of action sends a louder message than my words, though, and I don't fault her for not believing me.

But as much as I want the truth out in the open, I'm just as terrified of the consequences.

I'm not sure how long I wander around the farm, weaving through groups of families with small children picking out pumpkins, scaling the big hay tower, getting their faces painted, munching on caramel apples, petting the animals. But when I hear familiar laughter, I abruptly stop and search for the sound.

Sutton stands where I first ran into her earlier today, the colorful mums surrounding her. She's wearing the apron again, the middle smudged with dirt. Periodically, she jams her hands into the wide front pocket as she gives her attention to the man before her. I don't recognize him, but that isn't odd since the fall festival brings in people from all the neighboring small towns every year. But I do recognize his intentions. The way he touches her arm, squeezing it to emphasize a point while talking. The way he angles his body toward hers, signaling his interest. The way his eyes roam all over her body, greedily enjoying what's not his to look at. And she's soaking it up: laughing at whatever he says, gesturing with her hands the way she does when she's excited, allowing his hands to touch her.

With clenched teeth and fists, I tell myself not to go over there. Nothing will good will come of it, I warn myself. Just walk away, I caution. But like the idiot I'm proving to be, I disregard all my inner dialogue and march over there anyway.

I sidle up next to my girl and wrap an arm around her shoulders. I don't take my eyes off the man as I lower my mouth to her ear to whisper a warning. "You have five seconds to ditch this prick before I lay him out for touching my girl, making a big scene in front of your family and this whole town. I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, baby girl, but it's not cute and I'm pissed."

Sutton elbows me, trying to extricate herself from my hold, but I don't give her any space. Ignoring my warning, she gestures toward the man and says, "Jeremy here was just telling me about this opportunity he has for the farm. Something with needing flowers at his conference centers..."

"It's Brandon."

"Huh?"

"My name is Brandon. Not Jeremy."

"Oh. Right. Brandon here..."

I tighten my hold on Sutton and glare at the guy, as I interrupt. "Well, Brandon, Sutton here isn't open for business just now. How about you call back never."

He sizes me up, no doubt noting the possessive way I hold her. "Is that right? And you speak for her?"

"Damn fucking right I do. So why don't you fuck off."

Sutton squirms under my arm, but I don't let her go until Brandon finally takes the hint and leaves. As soon as he's out of sight, Sutton levels me with a glare. "You have some fucking nerve, Kelly."

"Me?" I demand, pointing to my chest. Somewhere I hear inner warnings to abort, but I ignore them, opting to drown in my festering anger instead. "You're the one flirting right in front of me. What were you trying to prove? Did you want me to get pissed and claim you? Were you trying to force me to out us? Is that what this was? I'm not here to play games, baby girl. But if that's how you want this to go, maybe I pick one of the girls who's been eye fucking me all day and let them put their hands all over me. See how you like it."

"Fuck you, Kelly. That wasn't what this was at all. He was talking business..."

"He didn't give a fuck about flowers, Sutton. The guy was undressing you with his eyes. And if he touched you one more time, I would've been forced to knock his teeth out. Don't tell me you didn't realize what was going on. You're not that dumb. I know you're still young and all, but these games, I don't play them. I know how you feel about keeping us a secret. You've made it perfectly clear. And I told you—asked you—to please give me time. This isn't giving me time. You can't force my hand by turning me into a jealous asshole."

"For your information, asshole," Sutton seethes, her voice a lethal low volume that sets off all my warning bells. Shit, I should have listened to that nagging voice in the back of my head.

"I really did think he was interested in doing business with me. I may be younger than you. I mean, you used to throw that in my face every chance you got. But you're right," she says, stabbing a sharp finger into my chest with such force I'm fairly certain she means violence. "I am not dumb. I don't need this from you. You are not my brother or my dad. You don't get to lecture me. I wasn't playing any games. If some guy talking to me pissed you off, that's on you. As far as the whole town goes, they think I'm single. I'm fair game. And that's because you're too scared to stick your neck out for me. So maybe you're the one that needs to grow up, Kelly. I'm not playing games. You're the one hiding us like a dirty fucking secret. And maybe I'm sick of playing by your rules."

"Sutton," I say on a sharp inhale. "It's not like that."

"I don't really care anymore, Kelly." She crosses her arms over her chest defensively. Or maybe protectively? Is she protecting herself from me? "The thing that sucks the most is I really do like you. My feelings are real. But maybe that just isn't enough. Maybe I need more."

"Sutton. Wait."

"No, Kelly," she says, backing away from me. "I think I've waited long enough."

-

"JENSEN, WE'VE BEEN FRIENDS A LONG TIME and you know how much I respect you. I've been trying to work up the guts to tell you something. Something that I'm sure will come as a shock and maybe even earn me a black eye. But, fuck..." I rip my hat off my head and chuck it on the ground, kicking it in a bout of rage. Leaves and dirt trail the hat's arc before falling without grace onto the patchy grass.

I grab fistfuls of my hair, barely able to control the aggression dancing ever-so-close to the surface, desperately needing an outlet. Hence, the treatment of my beloved hat.

I take the few steps to retrieve the hat, dusting it off before plopping it back onto my head carelessly.

I've been camped out in a corner of the farm that is away from the commotion of the festival, hiding from everyone and everything, so pissed at myself for the situation I somehow created for myself. If anyone were to catch me pacing and cursing and stewing like a mad man, I'm sure they'd be more than a little concerned. But after countless practice attempts at coming clean to my best friend, I can't seem to figure out the right way to approach Jensen.

Teddy said to rip it off like a Band-Aid: Hey, J. I'm madly in love with your sister. It's happening. Get used to it.

I imagine Sutton advising me to break it to him gently: Listen, Jensen, I have nothing but love and respect for you, so please know this isn't something I entered into lightly. You see, your sister snuck up on me and stole my heart right from my chest and I was powerless to it. I can't live without her, and I need you to be ok with this.

No matter how I confess, the end result is always the same in my imagination. Me with a black eye and my best friend walking away from decades of friendship, which puts a strain on Sutton's relationship with her family, causing me to make the ultimate sacrifice by allowing Sutton to choose her family, leaving me completely alone.

That's what this whole thing boils down to. I'm scared shitless of losing everyone important to me.

But my inaction is also resulting in the same outcome.

It's time to finally man up and do something. Fight for my girl. Even at the risk of losing it all. Because she's worth it. Worth the risk. I can't walk away knowing I could have done more, fought harder, stepped up and did the right thing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I curl my hands around the brim of my hat. "Fuck me."

I stop pacing and dig my phone out of my pocket. I need accountability. I need to make sure I don't chicken out again. First, I answer the texts I've been avoiding all week. Teddy's reply is almost instant.

ME: You're right. It's Band-Aid ripping time.

TEDDY: Hell yeah it is!

ME: I'm stopping by your house tonight. Do me a favor and make sure J is in a good mood, yeah?

TEDDY: That's a tall order. The big guy is always grumpy. I guess I could do his favorite thing, it's this move with my tongue.

ME: No! Goddammit, Teddy. I don't need details.

I swear I can hear Teddy's cackle from my hidey-hole at the farm above all the loud festival noises, and I shake my head even as a smile curves my lips. Although I feel like I'm going to either puke or pass out from nerves, just the idea of taking action, forming a plan, is loosening the knots in my stomach a bit. I need to do this. It's time. Past time. Way overdue.

With a big inhale, I switch over to the ongoing text thread with my girlfriend, not blowing out the breath until I hit send.

ME: Baby girl. You deserve better. You're right. You're absolutely 100% right. I'm going to fix things. Tonight. I just hope it's not too late. Please tell me it's not too late.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and it takes me a few moments to realize it isn't a reply from my girl. Instead, it's from her sister. I scan the words a few times before they register; and then I'm moving. Speeding across the farm as fast as my feet will allow, weaving through the crowds of people loitering around, blocking my passage.

VIVI: It's Sutton. She fell. She's fine. But she's asking for you. She's a bit out of it. If you're still here, come to the haunted house.