Page 12 of Sunshine

She’s still wearing a work dress—beige with pearl buttons down the front—but she’s taken off her shoes. Red manicured toes curl into the carpet as her hands rise to her hips. “What’s his name?”

“Jason,” I answer simply.

“Why didn’t Jason make the effort to come to this door and introduce himself?” Hereyes move from me to the window, and I know she has half a mind to march right out there and ask him the same question.

“Mom, please,” I beg, “just let me go, and I promise if there’s a next time, I’ll make sure he comes to the door.”

Her golden eyes flit back to me, considering. “You like him?”

My shoulders rise in an honest shrug. “I sit next to him in Photography. He doesn’t talk much, but he seems really nice and he’s on the football team?—”

“He’s a football player?” Her eyes widen in delight, the corners of her mouth tipping up. I hate how much it weirds me out, because I know exactly what she’s thinking . . .

Prime future-husband material.

It’s almost gross, and I have the sudden urge to call the whole thing off. I’m not surprised . . . she was Saddlebrook Fall’s sweetheart in her day—even crowned prom queen during her senior year—and dated a handful of football players herself. But those priorities are what got her stuck here, and I’ve never forgotten it.

Jason honks again. “Mom, he’s waiting.” I grab my purse off the table in the entryway and start to push out the door. “I have to go—I won’t be late!”

“Oh don’t worry about it, bug! Just be safe and enjoy yourself.”

I roll my eyes as I march down the front walkway toward the sparkling sports car that revs as I get closer, and then I’m laughing, my excitement sinking back in.

Jason might bequiet in class, but he’s far from it as we drive through the heart of town. His natural curiosity doesn’t feel intimidating—he asks questions like he genuinely wants to get to know me, and I like it. A lot.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” he asks as he pulls into the parking lot of Mustang’s Pizza, owned by Gus Romano who, in his prime, was a football legend here. Jason kills the ignition but turns to face me, giving me time to answer before getting out of the car.

“Born and raised,” I confirm. “And I can’t wait to get out.”

His eyes narrow a smidge. “You want to leave?” I’m not surprised by his surprise. Most people love it here, which is probably why no one ever leaves. A few years ago, Ava Jenkins—Sheriff Joe’s daughter—skipped town the day after her graduation, and the story made it into theGazette. I still remember the way the sheriff’s face fell when my mom and I bumped into him at Luna’s Bakery. He was ahead of us in line when Nosy Maeve practically assaulted him, demanding answers in front of everyone there. Maeve is pushing ninety and leads the local bridge club, and her stance on the matter was that we all deserved to know what happened. I just wanted blueberry pie.

I think about how to respond. “Do you ever feel like . . . you can’t breathe? Like the walls are slowly closing in around you and you’re not sure where to turn, where to find fresh air?”

He considers. “Sometimes, on the field after a snap, if the other team’s defense is good.”

Not exactly what I meant, but I suppose it’ll do. “I guess I feel like that here, sometimes. A little claustrophobic.”

“Hm,” he hums before pushing out of his door, rounding the front of the car to let me out with a soft smile.

We find a table in the back, and Gus must get wind that a football player is in his restaurant because within minutes the small, round man comes out from somewhere in the back. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose as he grins down at us. “What a pleasure to have you here, Jason, thanks for coming in. You ready for the season?”

Jason’s returning smile is warm and friendly. “Yes sir, the boys have been going hard out on the field.”

“Good.” Gus slaps his shoulder as his eyes move to where I sit opposite Jason. “Very good. You kids have a nice dinner, all right? I’ll bring out a couple of milkshakes later, on the house.”

“Thank you,” Jason and I say in unison as he slips back into the kitchen.

“Does it ever get to be too much, having people fawn over you like that?” It isn’t the first time I’ve seen townsfolk throw themselves at the feet of the football team.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I think I’m sort of used to it because of my dad.”

“Your dad?”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah, my dad—Ron Moore.”

“Your dad is themayor?” I bark out. How in the world did I not know this? I mean, I do my best to stay out of town politics, but as the highest-elected leader of Saddlebrook Falls, Mayor Moore is practically a deity around here.

Jason’s expression turns a little shy. “I figured you knew. Everyone always seems to.”

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