Page 2 of The Rules We Broke
Brady and I both ended up in the same P.E. class. Brady was a star athlete and was already being groomed to play football for his beloved team. I’d never understood why gym teachers thought it was a great idea for boys and girls to play football together, even if it was only flag football. One fateful day, a couple of Brady’s buddies got carried away and accidentally knocked me over. I ended up on the ground with stars in my eyes.
When I could see clearly, the first person I saw was Brady. There he was, with his outstretched hand, waiting for me to take it so he could help me up. I wasn’t sure how to react. It felt like the entire class waited with bated breath to see what we would do.
Everyone knew the rules.
But when he smiled at me with all his Southern boy charm, it did something to me. So, hesitantly I reached for his hand. It was warm and made me feel kind of fuzzy inside. A kind of fuzzy I’d never felt before.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I found my footing.
“You’re welcome, Ellie,” he said with a drawl and a twinkle that lingered in his eyes.
I tilted my head, puzzled. No one had ever called me Ellie.
He just smiled . . . and walked away.
When the teacher handed me an ice pack, I noticed all our classmates appeared to be frozen in place. Eyes wide, mouths gaping open. The rules had been broken in a spectacular way.
With a pounding heart and head, I spent the rest of the class on the bleachers, watching Brady, wondering what had just happened and what the repercussions would be for breaking the rules.
Brady didn’t seem as concerned as I was, judging by the number of times he looked my way and grinned, seemingly more amused than alarmed.
Unfortunately, being the small town Kaysville was, by the time I got home, my Aunt Lu had heard the news, and she was more than alarmed. She again reminded me of rule three. I told her I remembered and not to worry, but I couldn’t help but think about Brady Jackson the rest of the night.
And oddly, or maybe not so oddly, from that day on for the rest of the school year, I seemed to run into him a lot at school. We never talked, but there were lots of knowing looks and smiles.
The last day of freshman year came. It also happened to be my fifteenth birthday. My friends decorated my locker that day and brought me a birthday crown to wear. It was the only time I had ever worn one. I felt ridiculous, but happy and loved.
Then came a moment I will never forget.
As I walked down the hall after school, Brady passed by, and in one smooth motion, I felt a note being pressed discreetly in my hand.
I didn’t stop.
I didn’t look at him.
I kept walking—straight to the nearest bathroom.
Trembling, I went into a stall and quickly opened the note with shaky hands.
Ellie,
Please meet me at the carnival tonight. 7 p.m. behind the funhouse.
Brady
P.S. I like the crown.
I didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was a trick. My aunt had always said you could never trust a Jackson, but I had watched Brady Jackson for years, and he seemed like such a good boy. It didn’t hurt that he was all sorts of cute, and for some reason, I kept getting that warm and fuzzy feeling around him.
No boy had ever made me feel that way before. At least, not the way looking at Brady made me feel.
I loved Aunt Lu, and I knew it would break her heart if I met up with Brady Jackson of all people. But I couldn’t stop wondering—Why did Brady Jackson want me to meet him?
I came home that afternoon with thoughts of Brady Jackson swirling in my head, impossible to untangle. Aunt Lu and Doris—our housekeeper, though she was more like family—greeted me at the door wearing party hats, blowing noisemakers, and showering me in confetti.
The sight made my stomach dip. Guilt bloomed behind my smile. Because my Aunt Lu was the one person in the world who truly loved me. She had taken me in when I was just a year old—after my momma left my daddy, and my daddy turned to the bottle.
She’d given me everything.
