“You’re not your father.”

He shook his head. “You haven’t known me for years. You can’t really say that.”

“Yes, I can.”

“How so?”

“Because your character hasn’t changed throughout the years. You are the same gentle boy you were before. This town, these people don’t see it, though, because they are too stuck on their prejudices and judgmental ways based on a tragedy that happened years ago. What they don’t see is the kindness in your eyes, the way you help people when they aren’t looking, the way you give yourself to those who are in need, the way you care so quietly. You’re the same beautiful soul I loved all those years before, Jax, and you are nothing like your father.”

He closed his eyes. “Promise?”

I placed my hand on his thigh. “Promise.”

His eyes opened quickly and fell to my hand. “Every time you do that, I feel as if I’m waking up again.”

“Do what?”

“Touch me.”

I swallowed hard at his words, and I wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or the swirl of emotions inside me that was making my mind spin. “I missed you, Moon,” I confessed.

“I missed you more. I missed your light so damn much. I’d been living in darkness for so long…I missed you…”

“What did you mean before when you said you tried to hate me?”

“Because you stopped writing,” he explained. “I felt like when your letters stopped coming, I didn’t want to care about you anymore. After I lost my mother, I needed your letters, and when they stopped, I wanted to hate you. I hated myself more, though, because I was certain you stopped writing because of what I told you about what happened to my mom. I figured you thought I was a murderer.”

I gasped and my eyes narrowed. “I never received those letters from you.”

“What?”

“Jax, you stopped writing me. I never received any letters about what happened to your mother, or what happened to you. I mean, hell, I kept writing you for a whole year after your letters stopped coming. I showed up to summer camp, hoping you’d be waiting there for me with answers. I would’ve never stopped writing you, and I would’ve never thought those awful things about you.”

Confusion lined his features. “You wrote me?”

“Yes. I was heartbroken when your letters stopped coming.” I sat up in the driver’s seat and turned toward him. “I would’ve been there for you, Jax. I would’ve forced my parents to drive me to wherever you were so I could help you grieve. I would’ve been by your side.”

“You were my sun,” he said. “After your letters stopped, the world became that much darker.”

I took his hands in mine and squeezed them. “I’m so sorry you went through that. I hate that you spent that time thinking I turned on you. I would never do that. You were my moon, my best friend.”

He looked down at our interlaced hands. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Anything.”

“The day I realized it was you, it turned back on.”

“What turned back on?”

“My heart.”

22

Jax

After the drunken night in the convertible, Kennedy and I were inseparable. I began showing her all the things Havenbarrow had to offer. Oddly enough, I kind of began to enjoy the stupid-ass town, too. It was easier to find enjoyment in things when you had someone like Kennedy to experience them with.

Each day we hung out, she forced me to go to the coffee shop to greet Marshmallow—against my better judgment. That stupid cat loved on her and hissed at me. When we weren’t together, I was planning our next adventures. I wanted her to see the world of Havenbarrow with me right beside her.

I spent years not having Kennedy around me, and now I was determined to make up for all the lost time.

“Favorite ice cream flavor on the count of three,” Kennedy said as we sat in the woods one Sunday morning, eating granola bars and watching the birds fly by. “One, two, three!”

“Blue moon!” I shouted.

“Cherry chip!” she exclaimed. She pointed my way and gasped. “Oh my gosh! Who likes blue moon? What flavor is that anyway? Honestly, blue moon? What does that even mean?”

“It means it’s a delicious ice cream that tastes like heaven. It’s as if Froot Loops had a love child with cotton candy.”

She laughed, and it sounded beautiful. “That sounds disgusting.”

“You’re wrong. If you tried it, you’d be just as in love with it as I am.”

“That sounds like a challenge, and I decided a long time ago that I’d never pass up ice cream challenges.”

I rose to my feet and held my hand out to her. “Come on, then. The ice cream shop in town has the best blue moon in the world. Sure, it’s the only blue moon I’ve ever had, but I’m certain it’s the best.”

She took my hand, and away we went. The night was perfect, so instead of driving into town, we chose to walk. The whole way there, Kennedy went on and on about anything and everything, and I listened to every syllable that left her mouth. When we got in line for the ice cream, I heard people around us whispering, but I didn’t think too much about it.