She puckered up her entire face like she was sucking on something bitter.
Almost laughing, Evan hugged his knees closer to his chest.
“You shouldn’t do that. Not a great look for you, Frankie Leigh. Your face might get stuck like that.”
She smiled wide then looked at him in worry, like she could read his mood the same way as he could read hers.
“Sorry.” He knew it had to be a mumble. He wasn’t even sure she could understand it.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” She grinned at him. I JUST LIKE YOUR FROGGY FACE BETTER.
His head shook in playful disbelief and a little bit of truth. “So I’m nothin’ but a toad, huh?”
“I’ll have to kiss you to find out.”
“Frankie,” he warned, sighing again, roughing his hands through his hair before he forced himself to look back at her, letting himself get washed in the heaviness that had been following him all day.
He decided just to lay it out.
No more tiptoeing.
No more pretending.
WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WHEN I DIE, FRANKIE LEIGH?
He saw it.
Felt it. Grief pierced through her being.
Arrows of sorrow that impaled her spirit.
Gutting.
Crushing.
No thirteen-year-old should ever have to look like that.
But Evan wondered if either of them had ever truly gotten to be kids with the things they’d gone through.
“Don’t say that, Evan. Don’t ever say that.”
Evan’s brow pinched as he looked at her. YOU NEED TO FACE IT, FRANKIE. ACCEPT IT. IT’S TIME YOU STOPPED FOLLOWING ME AROUND LIKE I’M THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WORLD AND LIVE YOUR OWN LIFE.
He knew her well enough to know it was anger that blazed through her tiny body, and she was scrambling around to get on her knees in front of him, the movements of her hands chaotic. JUST SHUT UP, EVAN. SHUT UP! YOU CAN’T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT. YOU HAVE TO KEEP BELIEVING THAT YOU’LL BE OKAY AND YOU WILL.
“Life and death don’t work that way.”
She pressed her lips together like she was trying to keep them from trembling. “Fine. Maybe you won’t be here forever. Maybe I won’t, either. Maybe I’ll trip right off this cliff and hit my head and die right now. Or maybe I’ll get run over tomorrow. Or maybe when I’m thirty. None of us know. The only thing I know is while we’re here, you’re supposed to be with me. Together.”
She gestured wildly between them, her fingers reaching out to trace over his heart.
Heat streaked across his skin.
Their connection fierce.
He had the flash of the thought that maybe she was right because something that powerful shouldn’t be possible.
“You’re my best friend. My everything. Remember what we promised?” she begged. “That when we’re grown, we’re gonna get married for real? We belong together.”
Her lips moved and Evan watched and his heart hurt more than it ever had. He knew her words shook with a sob, that they were all messed up with her worry and her hope that she continually tried to get him to hold on to.
Emotion crashed, and his stomach fisted, and crap . . . he needed to get her out of there because she made him feel too many things all at once.
That belief that was threatening to go missing tried to climb back to the surface. The girl shining all her light on his dark.
“I can’t ever have kids, you know that right? Even if I live until I’m a hundred, I can’t have kids or have a normal life and that is not something you want. If I do, they’re going to end up like me, and I can’t do that. And believe me, you’re going to want the things I can’t give you.”
I’M BROKEN, FRANKIE.
He knew it was all kinds of wrong that he was having this discussion with a thirteen-year-old. That he was even giving a thought to these things.
Like they were adults and having to make important decisions about their lives.
But Evan didn’t have the luxury of waiting.
Not when he didn’t know if he’d even have tomorrow.
“I don’t care, Evan. I don’t care about any of that. The only thing I’ll ever want is you.” Frankie promised it like she actually knew it as the truth, and he knew in that moment, she meant it, but she didn’t have the first clue what that meant she would be giving up.
NO, FRANKIE.
She completely ignored him and crawled forward and signed against his chest, the energy flashing with each stroke of her hand. YOU ARE MY FAVORITE.
Evan wanted to weep.
He wanted to hold her.
Keep her.
Fuck, he’d do anything to be different. To be normal and right. To be free of the affliction.
She leaned forward, her dark eyes watching him, flecks of cinnamon that danced in the night.
Her sweet intensity crashed over him, filling him up and draining him dry.
She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.