Page 123 of Score on You

That’s the incentive I need. I flip open the cover and a title page greets me. In a neat script that I could never replicate, Callie wrote our names. It’s the doodled hearts that really do it for me, though. Talk about a throwback I didn’t realize I needed.

A creak from her stool announces that she’s leaning forward. “This is our journey so far from my perspective. Obviously. It’s separated into two sections. The beginning is more of a diary. Just a few random occasions when our paths happened to cross. Most of them were at Roosters, which is why I thought it was fitting to let you read them here. Not that you knew I existed back then.”

My eyes lift to hers. “I always knew you existed.”

“Okay, fine. Before we ever talked,” she corrects.

“That’s better.” I wink at her and flip to the next page.

“This is after I saw you for the first time.” Her smile reflects the fond memory.

“Let’s see if I made a good impression.”

My gaze drops to feast on her jotted thoughts from February of last year. The date is significant to me, but not for a reason she would recognize.

Hey, stranger.

I’m not sure what else to call you. Diary is too common. Not that stranger gives you a real identity. It feels a bit odd writing to myself. This way I’m picturing you as a new friend. I don’t have very many of those, but that’s not the point.

Something unexpected happened today. I was walking through town on Main Street, like I’ve done many times in the past two months since arriving in Knox Creek. But there was this sudden urge to stop on the sidewalk. I can’t really explain it other than I felt compelled to pause. That led to me looking around, and I saw a bar across the road.

Roosters is the name. I’ll never forget the pull to go inside. That was odd too. Why would I be drawn to a bar? I’ve never been anywhere close to one. But a gut instinct should be followed.

Once I got close enough, I saw him. He’s so… handsome. A stranger, like you. Maybe I should be writing this to him. As if I’d ever dare to let him read my inner thoughts. That’s almost as crazy as me approaching the bar to begin with.

I’m ashamed to admit that I watched him. I think he might work there, but I’m not sure. Minutes flew by as Istood there in the winter cold. The icy chill didn’t bother me. It could’ve started snowing and I wouldn’t have noticed. My feet wouldn’t budge from the spot.

If only I had the courage to go inside. There’s a flutter in my belly that feels like a swooping sensation. I wonder if that’s another sign from this man. It doesn’t seem possible considering where I came from.

I ran from Billmoore to escape men, but I think he’s different. No. Scratch that. I know he’s different, especially when compared to the monster who raised me. I find myself wanting to meet this stranger. Maybe even talk to him. But that’s never going to happen. I can’t even walk into a bar. Forget talking to a man, even if he could be special to me.

I rest my hand flat on the window. A foggy imprint appears, as if I’ll leave a lasting mark on the glass. That’s all I’ll ever be. A bland outline that’s mostly invisible. Too afraid to be noticed. Unless I make the choice to change.

Until then.

xx

Callie

My breath falters as I reread the passage. It’s as if my eyes are deceiving me. The words remain the same, though.

I flip through the rest, just at a quick glance until we’re home where I can truly appreciate the magnitude. She’s recordedevery interaction we’ve shared. Heat blurs my vision and I blink against the sting.

“Sweetness,” I croak. A rare emotion clogs my throat. “This is… the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received.”

And I’m not even talking about the journal.

Callie’s eyes widen in alarm. “You don’t get to keep it yet. I mean, it’s not done.”

I chuckle and rub at my wet lashes. “Well, damn. There goes my smile.”

She swoops in for a kiss. “Don’t pout. There’s more to come for us, right? I was planning on keeping track of our entire first year as a couple.”

Which gives me an idea for her next entry. I vault over the bar and land by her side. “Come with me, love.”

Callie startles from my abrupt movement, but accepts my proffered hand. “Where are we going?”

The explanation is waiting outside where I turn her toward the front window. I press her palm to the glass before placing mine on top. “Do you know what else happened on February 23rd last year?”

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