Page 69 of Facing the Line

Thirty

HADLEY

Kendall: I miss you!

Hadley: I miss you, too! How’s your summer?

Kendall: Weird. I’m ready to be back at Harrison.

Hadley: I’m so ready to see you.

“So, was I right?” Jonas smiles at me.

Jonas has two smiles. One is hisMona Lisasmile—pleased but closed-mouthed. And the other one is a full-on grin. I can see why he doesn’t give everyone the high-wattage version all the time, because it’s like the sun appearing on a cloudy day. Absolutely blinding. He’d have every female in the vicinitythrowing herself at him (and some males, too) if he brought that sucker out constantly.

He does now. And it takes my breath away.

“Yeah,” I croak. “Although is it normal that the fairgrounds are in the middle of town?”

“I thought the same thing! They should be in the country, right?” His eyes light up at our similarity, and my heart lurches.

When Jonas came home from a shift on the pediatric floor, he was practically vibrating off the walls. One of the other nurses told him the county fair was happening this week, and he rushed home to our apartment and insisted we go. He said he knew I’d love it.

He’s right. The air smells like sugar, fried food, and sun-warmed earth. Surprising both of us, the fairgrounds aren’t in the country, surrounded by big sky and corn fields, but in the middle of the action next to one of the local high schools. Weird. But there’s junk food in my future and a Ferris wheel looming overhead, so I can overlook the incongruous setting.

“What do you want to do first?” he asks, his shoulder bumping mine. We can’t stop touching each other. Elbows, shoulders, hips—little brushes that anchor me and at the same time, make my heart beat faster. “Cheryl said they have all the normal fair stuff—rides, games, and food—and also livestock.”

“Livestock?” I echo. “What?”

He points to a sprawling white barn to our left. “I guess kids bring their animals to be judged? She mentioned horses, cows, llamas, and bunnies.”

“Ohmigosh, bunnies, obviously! Let’s go.”

Our knuckles brush as we amble towards the barn. Not interlaced or holding hands,

but like our fingers can’t help flirting with each other. Which makes sense because the rest of me can’t stop flirting with Jonas, either.

Is this a date? The butterflies in my stomach think so. Do I want to make things public between us and keep going on dates with him? Hunter could shove it, honestly, if he has a problem with me and Jonas. But we agreed this was a summer fling, and I need to stick to that.

Why does my heart sink at the thought?

I put it from my mind as we walk into the barn, and my eyes adjust to the dim light. The fried food smell disappears, overpowered by the sharp tang of farm animals and the sweet scent of fresh hay. Jonas leads me to a row of large cages, and I gasp.

“These are not bunnies.” I was picturing the little guys I see hopping around campus—brown, small ears that point up, fluffy white cotton ball tails. These are rabbits—that’s the only word for it. They are massive, the size of large house cats, with long droopy ears and soulful brown eyes. I immediately want to scoop one and cuddle it.

“Seriously.” Jonas blinks, taking them in. “I guess country rabbits are different from city ones?”

“They look so soft.”

There are rabbits of all colors—black, white, brown, and a mix of all three. Their coats gleam in the low light.

“You can touch them, if you want.”

The voice comes out of nowhere, and I jump. A little girl, probably about seven or eight, with two pigtail braids, freckles, and crooked teeth, stands next to Jonas. She points at a massive brown rabbit. “That one’s mine.”

“Really?” I ask, and she nods. “What’s his name?”

“Bambi.”

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