Page 76 of Zone
But I could lose a game and survive.
Losing you, however…
However… full stop?
My heart melts at the beautiful words.Did he write this?I’m pretty sure he did, even if I don’t know his handwriting.Is it about me?It’s unfinished.
I’m tempted to slip it into my pocket and keep it forever. Idon’t need an appraisal from my mom to know a poem by Knox Bradford will be very valuable in the coming years.
Because that’s all I care about. I’m not falling for him. I’m not hoping he wrote these words for me.Get out of my head, Fireside Ladies!
A Swiss army knife is hidden beneath the papers, and I use it to cut the tab off the frame. Then I quickly slip our picture into the back and place it on the dresser.
Staring at the image, my throat aches at the smiles on our faces, the warmth in his eyes. Cricket is blissfully sleeping. My chest tugs, but I force myself to grab the reins.
What am I doing? I’m losing all professional distance is what. I’m putting my picture in a frame for him. I’m reading his personal notes like a creepy stalker. Have I lost it? I turn the frame face down on his dresser and quickly leave the room.
“I’m leaving now,” I call to Stan. “No need to mention I was here. I’ll catch up later.”
Like Knox won’t notice I’ve been here. I left all his stuff in his bedroom.
My head’s a mess. I’m all mixed up, and I realize halfway down the elevator, I inadvertently stuffed that scrap of paper into my pocket.
CHAPTER 17
Knox
“Hi, Stacia, I’m?—”
“I know who you are.” A tiny, blonde stands in front of me. Her long, sleek hair is in a ponytail on top of her head, and her smile brims with team spirit. “What brings you over to our side of the Dome, K-Brad?”
We’re standing in the large training area for the Cheer Krewe, and the rest of the squad is across the room working on their halftime performance.
I have no idea how to answer her question. I’m second-guessing everything now that I’m standing here in front of her. Fonz remembered her from more than a year ago, but it doesn’t seem like Stacia’s mourning anyone.
“Sorry, I won’t keep you long.” Reaching up, I rub the back of my neck. “Do you know anyone by the name of Jules Allen? Or maybe you knew her as Bonnie?”
Stacia’s brow furrows, and her smile wavers. Her shouldersdroop, and the perkiness seems to drain from her posture.
She nods slowly. “Bonnie was one of my closest cheer-friends. We used to see each other every summer in Orlando at the competitions.”
My chest tightens. “Did you do stuff together outside of cheer camp? Like traveling or anything?”
“Not really. I mean, we were all here in New Orleans when they announced I’d made the Cheer Krewe. It was so sad she couldn’t be a part of it, but she wouldn’t let us be sad. She said she was going to make the most of every day.”
That weight is back in my chest. “Why would she say that?”
Stacia walks past me, and I follow her to sit on the narrow set of bleachers against the wall. Her hands are on her lap, and she exhales slowly.
“The doctors couldn’t say how much time she had left. They were doing everything they could, but the medicine would only work for so long. She wouldn’t do chemo—it wouldn’t save her anyway.”
Leaning forward, I rest my forearms on my legs, doing my best to process what she’s telling me. “So she knew it was her last summer?”
“She knew her prognosis.”
“My friend Alfonso said… Well, he couldn’t remember exactly what she said, only it had something to do withMamma Mia. Did you know about that?”
“Oh, yeah.” She leans back, a nostalgic smile on her lips. “Bonnie was obsessed with that movie. She wanted to go to Greece so bad. I wonder if she ever did…”
