Was this what it felt like to love someone? Adelie didn’t know, but she craved to. She wanted to experience for herself how two random people managed to not only find one another, but overcome fears, take chances, and win one another’s affections and loyalty.
Looking at love according to facts like that seemed so illogical, but the world was flooded with people who proved otherwise, and Adelie wanted to be next.
“I think the grass is saying, ‘ow,’” Fletcher said.
“Huh?” Adelie blinked from the stupor of her thoughts to find a bare patch of dirt where fledgling, yellow-green spring grass used to be.
“You all right there?” Fletcher added, gripping the black garbage bag he’d been holding for Suzie to dump in her pile of litter mingled with dead leaves. Suzie glanced at her as well, concern in her forehead. She knew all too well what was on Adelie’s mind.
Suzie deposited her pile into the sack, straightened, and used her wrist to brush her blonde hair away from her forehead. “Why don’t you just call him?”
Adelie shook her head and started raking a different spot.
“It’s totally normal to ask for an update on the images he took of you.”
“Not to mention within your rights,” Fletcher said. “It was part of your contract.” Fletcher was good at wordy documents. Adelie was grateful she’d had him look the papers over before she met with Maddox during their tour.
Adelie traipsed to the nearby maple tree and used it for support. “I would feel so stupid,” she said. “So obvious.”
Fletcher frowned. “Obvious about what?”
Suzie rolled her eyes and shuffled forward a few steps. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she said, “not if Maddox is as observant as this guy.” She nudged a thumb in her boyfriend’s direction.
Fletcher glanced between the sisters with a puzzled expression, and the girls laughed. He really was cute. Suzie had been crazy about him from the start, and so giddy the day she’d come home from class and announced she had a date with him.
Adelie had thought about calling Maddox more times than she cared to admit. She’d stared at his name in her contacts, but she could never bring herself to tap it. Wonderland had been closed for two weeks now, which meant something had to be happening. He’d said he would call her when the images were ready. Why hadn’t he?
She’d given up checking social media. In fact, even though she’d stalked every possible sight for an update, she’d avoided it for the past several days altogether in an attempt to eliminate some of her frustration.
Together, Fletcher, Suzie, and Adelie bagged the leaves and stray branches left over from Westville’s most recent spring wind. The air was chilled but not cold. Sunlight burst through the clouds, bringing with it the promise of flowers and outdoor adventures. They hauled the bags out to the curb for the city to gather during its neighborhood cleanup that weekend, and Tyler Wilborn rode past on his bike, slowing down at the sight of them.
He had to be eleven or twelve years old, his dark hair tufting out over his forehead, his cheeks flushed with exertion.
“Hey, there, Addy.” Tyler pulled his bike to a stop near the garbage can and scrubbed a hand beneath his nose.
“Hey, Tyler,” Adelie said. She’d known every kid on these streets since she’d been a kid herself. It wasn’t unusual for them to pull aside and talk to her. Kids never gave her the anxiety adults did.
“I saw your pictures. I hardly recognized you, but you look seriously great.”
Adelie shot a glance at Suzie, but her sister had already whipped out her phone and scrolled greedily with a finger on the screen.
Suzie’s eyes boggled. She held up the phone as if in reverence. “Oh. My. Goodness. Look at you!”
Fletcher peered over. “Whoa,” he said. “That’s Adelie?” His gaze shot to her before returning to Suzie’s phone. “You look amazing.”
“Right?” Tyler said. “I’ve been showing all my friends. It’s so cool that you’re like, famous, and you live on my street.”
Adelie’s entire body tingled. A bowling ball sank into her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to look. She was too fazed by the fact that Maddox had already put them up. He’d posted the pictures, and he hadn’t told her.
“Well, see ya,” Tyler said, riding off.
Filled with determination, Adelie yanked her phone from its pocket, opened Facebook, and gaped. Notifications blazed red. She had at least a dozen friend requests from people she didn’t even know. Others—lots of others—had tagged her in posts. News stations, newspapers, Wonderland’s main page—even Maddox had tagged her from his personal page.
Though the air around her was cool and crisp, walls began to close in around her. She shook her head, voicing her denial.
“It can’t be.” She felt exposed, vulnerable, as though a target had been pegged to her back and everyone in the world was taking aim.
“Why?” she went on, asking no one in particular. “Why would he post them already?”
Why hadn’t he told her first?
“Something wrong?” Fletcher asked, sidling in. His heat radiated to her, and she was grateful for his proximity. She needed someone close to her just then.
“He didn’t tell me,” she said.
“Was he supposed to? That wasn’t in your contract.”
Fletcher’s words ignited something inside of her. “Doesn’t courtesy have its own unspoken contract?”
Apparently not, she thought, answering her own question. Fuming, she trudged along the sidewalk leading to the separate garage and the makeshift garden shed Grandpa Carroll had built. While Adelie felt like flinging the rake against the wall, she placed it gently down and headed in through the back door.
The house’s warmth seeped into her skin, but it didn’t soothe her. Adelie kicked off her shoes in their mudroom with its new beadboard along the walls and hung her jacket on its peg. Her thoughts exploded like fireworks in her mind. She ran through her last conversation with Maddox after the photo shoot
