Ryan's sermon stayed with Nora for the rest of the sleepover. She turned it over in her mind, tossing between his words and her dad's hateful eyes. She slipped in and out of conversations, and it was honestly a miracle that no one accused her of being preoccupied.

Now, she hopped out of Nathan's car and shut the door behind her. With a final wave at Willow and Nathan, she fell into step beside Nolan and started toward his apartment.

It was his idea for them to hang out. She couldn't help but wonder if it was more out of concern for her well-being than actually wanting her company. Either way, she was glad to not be going home.

"Nora!"

Caleb burst through the front door, legs bouncing. He waved feverishly.

"Hi!" she called, waving with just as much fervor.

"Hi!"

"Glad to see you care I'm home," Nolan drawled as they started up the porch.

"I do," Caleb said. "I'm just happier to see her."

Nora failed to stifle a laugh. Nolan gave her a flat look.

They'd barely reached the top step before Caleb hauled them into the building and into the Haynes' apartment. He dashed across the kitchen, stocking-clad feet slipping and sliding across the floor. "Follow me!" he ordered. And then he was gone, flying into the living room.

"Where should I...?"

Nolan dumped his sleeping bag and backpack onto the floor. "Right here," he said.

She dropped her stuff.

"Come on!" Caleb was back in the kitchen doorway, his hands on his hips. He tapped his foot, like a meter keeping up with a high tempo.

"What's your issue?" Nolan asked.

"I need your help."

They shared a glance and followed Caleb into the living room. There, they found Greg asleep on the couch. Caleb thumped him awake, and he jumped.

"Hey!" Greg smiled at Nolan and Nora as he sat up. "You're home. And Nora—nice surprise."

She curtsied. "The pleasure is mine."

She would say she should be a princess, but she'd seen Barbie's Princess and the Pauper. Way too much responsibility.

An impatient throat-clearing sent her attention veering to Caleb, who now stood on the couch, defiant hands on his hips. Her eyebrows rose.

"You know why he's being weird?" Nolan asked Greg.

"I won't let him go to Ashfield."

"But I wanna go!"

"Caleb."

He turned to Nolan. "You said Goliath didn't beat me."

Nora bit her lip as Nolan frowned. Was that why Caleb wanted to go? To prove that his bully couldn't ruin a place he enjoyed? But...his eye was still bruised: a reminder to everyone who loved him.

"He didn't," Nolan said. "But Greg's right. It's too soon."

He huffed. "Why?"

"You were hurt, Caleb."

"That won't change later."

Nora blinked.

"Why can't you wait a week?" Greg asked. "Let your eye fully heal, at least."

"I'll be even more scared if I wait," Caleb said.

"What?" Greg asked.

"Mom always said that if something's scary, you should face it. Or else it just gets scarier."

Nolan and Greg stared, awestruck. What would they decide?

Finally, Greg sighed. "Okay."

✝

The baseball soared through the air, and Caleb scrambled to catch it, mitt reaching up high. His legs pedaled him backward, and for a moment it seemed he might trip in his hurry to snatch the ball before it hit the ground. He nearly did, too—a rock seemed determined to make him fall. But he held his ground, and the ball fell almost daintily into his mitt.

"Yes!" He thrust his fist in the air. "Did you see that?"

At Nora's side, Nolan smiled and gave his brother a thumb's up. "Nice job."

She clapped. "Amazing."

He did a little dance before tossing the ball back to Greg, who caught it with ease.

"That was my dad's," Nolan said, nodding to Greg's mitt.

She crossed her legs, leaning back against the wooden park bench. "Really?" she asked.

He nodded. "He used to play baseball and pass with us all the time. Mom, too."

She smiled. "That must have been fun."

"It was."

Greg tossed the ball again. This time, Caleb only had to hop in the air to catch it. He waved his arm victoriously as Greg chuckled.

They'd been at the park for about a half-hour. Nolan and Greg seemed to have ceased their wary glances, but Nora continued to steal the occasional scan of the various families enjoying the sunny day.

"You okay?"

She swiveled to face Nolan. "Yeah," she said. "I just can't help but look for him, you know?"

"I know." He sighed. She regretted bringing it up. What if she'd just amped the nervous energy he'd just managed to stave?

"So, how'd you like the sleepover?" she asked. A natural segue, clearly.

He smiled. "It was fun."

"Think you'll go next year?"

"Yeah." He started to say something else, but then Greg called to him, and his words were lost. "What?" he asked.

"I'm tagging you in," Greg said. "Bathroom."

Nolan hauled himself to his feet, just in time to catch the mitt Greg tossed to him. Greg jogged away, toward the small building that constituted the park's bathrooms.

Nolan had just reached Caleb when a voice made them all freeze.

"Haynes!"

Nora looked past Nolan, and there he was. Johnny approached with a cocky swagger, a sneer on his lips, but he was wary, too. She looked behind him, at the group of friends flanking his sides.

She rose to her feet.

As she closed the distance between them, Caleb faced Johnny. He was shaking, but the set to his jaw was determined. "Hi, Johnny," he said.

"I told you to keep your ugly face out of my park. And what did you do? Tattle on me?" Another glance at Nolan, who had now crossed his arms warningly over his chest.

"Johnny," Nolan said. "Please walk away from my brother."

Johnny scoffed. "Make me," he said.

Nolan cocked an eyebrow.

"Are your mom and dad meaner than you?"

Nora flinched.

Johnny's jaw locked. His eyes were steel. Oh no. Caleb had hit a nerve.

Nolan threw out a hand—catching Johnny's fist just before it could land on Caleb's slowly fading bruise. Johnny growled and thrust his other fist, but Nolan was ready. And, no matter how hard Johnny fought, Nolan was able to hold him steady. "Stop," he said—calm, collected.

Johnny continued to struggle. His "friends" laughed.

He let out a furious cry, his feet slashing at the ground. There was something beneath the surface of his rage. A desperation. And...

"Stop," Nolan repeated. He didn't. "Johnny."

Johnny slowed then, and looked up. There were tears in his eyes. "Get out of here," he growled.

At first, Nora thought he was talking to Caleb, but then he looked over his shoulder. "Now," he snapped.

The group shrugged and walked away. "Lame," one of the boys said.

The moment they were gone, Johnny sagged. The fight left him.

"You done?" Nolan asked. Johnny nodded. After a moment's hesitation, Nolan let go.

Johnny shot a glare at Caleb. "Don't ever bring up my parents again!" he yelled.

"You lost someone, didn't you?" she murmured.

He froze, stricken. Then he burst into tears, crumbling onto the grass.

Grief.

She crouched in front of him. "Who?" she asked kindly.

He didn't look up from where he'd pressed his face into his knees. "My dad," he sobbed.

"My dad died, too," Caleb said.

"I know, dumbass!" Johnny snapped, his head flying up.

"Hey, hey," Nora said. "I understand that you're angry, but you don't need to take it out on him."

Johnny's lips trembled.

"That's what you've been doing, isn't it?" she asked. "All this time."

"I hate him."

"Who?"

"Him!" He jabbed his pointer finger at Caleb.

"Why?"

"Because."

She glanced at Nolan. Shock colored his face. "Because why?" she asked softly. She reached forward, placing a comforting hand on Johnny's shoulder. He flinched, and she removed her hand.

"His stupid mom and dad are dead."

"And that reminded you about your dad passing away?"

"Not at first." The bite was ebbing from his tone.

Oh. "When did you find out he was going to...that he was going to leave?" she asked.

His jaw worked. "Right before Caleb moved here."

Nolan crouched beside her. "You're angry, and you need someone to blame," he said. "I get that."

Johnny stared at the grass. Tears dribbled down his cheeks.

"But, the thing is, hurting Caleb isn't going to make this go away. It's only going to make things worse for you."

He shrugged.

"I'm sorry about your dad," Caleb said.

Johnny shrugged again.

"I bet he was awesome," Caleb said.

Johnny looked up then, but the rage was gone. "He was," he whispered. He faltered, shook his head, as though banishing the moment of realness to which he'd succumbed. He shoved himself to his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "This sucks," he said. The attempt to sound tough didn't quite work. "I'm outta here."

And he was gone.

"You guys okay?"

Caleb raced over to Greg and threw his arms around him. "I did it," he said.

"You did," Greg replied, hugging him back. He pressed his face into Caleb's hair. "I'm so proud of you," he said. He looked at Nolan. "Both of you."

✝

The moon had risen by the time she and Nolan sauntered down the street, toward her house.

Greg had offered them a ride, but Nolan had shrugged it off. "We can walk." Fine by her. Anything to prolong stepping through her front door.

The night was clear, starry, calm. A whisper of a breeze brushed her arms. The perfect night was only dampened by the clenching of her stomach.

"Thank you again," Nolan said. He had her duffel on his shoulder. She'd tried to tell him she could carry it, but he'd insisted. At least she'd managed to grab her sleeping bag before he could—ha. "For today."

She smiled. "Of course. I'm just glad it all turned out okay."

"Me too."

"Do you think Johnny will come after him again?"

He paused. "I honestly don't know."

"I don't think he will."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

His arm brushed hers. She should step away. She needed to step away. But their hands were so close, and all she wanted to do was—

"There will be hell to pay."

She shifted away.

"That was a good catch," he said.

"What was?"

"That he lost someone."

"Oh," she said. "Thanks. It just kinda...clicked."

"I guess you should be a detective," he joked.

She laughed. "I knew it."

Their arms brushed again, their fingertips. Dammit. She bit her lip and adjusted their distance again.

It's fine. He doesn't even feel the same way.

But...while they were playing hide and seek... Had she imagined his eyes flicking to her lips? It was pretty dark.

She shoved the thoughts away. No.

They'd reached her street. She bit her lip and fought a wince as her chest pinched. Breathe. She let out a breath. It helped, but not much.

Their feet shifted from fresh pavement to the worn and cracked cement of her driveway. She tugged him to a stop, a reflex. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"You helped me today, too."

His eyebrows rose. "I didn't do anything."

But he did. Every day. She reached for his hand. Why did she reach for his hand? "You do more than you know," she said.

He searched her face. She held his gaze. Willing for him to understand.

His eyes flicked toward her lips, then, and her breath caught. Imagining it. She had to be...

His fingers brushed her cheek. Another glance at her lips, and then at her, his eyes asking a question.

Yes.

No.

"There will be hell to pay."

No. But he was standing so close, his breath on her face, and she couldn't breathe and she couldn't think and all she wanted to do was—

She dropped her sleeping bag and stepped forward. An answer. Heart hammering, she closed her eyes...

And their lips met.

Warm. Safe. She lifted a hand to his cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. A smile burst onto her lips as they kissed, full of a joy she didn't bother attempting to contain.

They parted, and he rested his forehead against hers. He smiled, and holy crap she was so happy she might just burst.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she murmured.

He nodded. Neither of them moved.

He leaned toward her again, and his lips brushed hers when the door flew open.

She flinched away from him. "Dad," she breathed. Horror ravaged her body like interference bursting from a giant speaker. What have you done? What have you done?

Maybe he didn't see.

"You're home." He was smiling. She couldn't breathe. "Come on inside. It's getting late."

She turned to Nolan. "Good night," she said. Go. Please.

He looked at her, then her dad. He said nothing. "Night," he said finally.

She smiled and, after grabbing her things, followed her dad inside.

The door had barely clicked shut before the falsities shattered. "What was that?" he snarled.

"He...he was just walking me home," she said. She shifted past, toward the kitchen. The lights were already on, bottles littering the counter. Please tell me he didn't see. "I'm sorry if I—"

"How dare you?"

She froze. When she didn't turn, fingers dug into her shoulder and twisted her around. She bit back a pained cry.

"You think you deserve that kind of happiness?" He was too close. She gagged on his breath and backpedaled, wrenching herself from his grip. Her shoulder throbbed.

"You'll just kill him, too!"

"D-Dad—"

Searing pain. A crack as his hand whipped across her cheek.

She staggered, reaching for her face. It burned.

She choked on a sob. Her dad just stood there, seething, hand still raised as if ready to go again.

He'd hit her.

Not once—not once—had he ever laid a hand on her. Screamed, yes. Thrown stuff, yes. But he'd never...

"Don't you dare cry," he snapped as the tears fell down her cheeks.

He stepped forward, and she bolted.

"Get back here!"

She raced to the door and flung it open.

And there was Nolan.