Free The Year We Fell Apart by Emily Martin Page B

range, and by the time he finished hitting a bucket, we were both starving. I found a vending machine and bought us each a bag of pretzels. Then I put the rest of my change into the machine and turned to leave. Declan reached for the coin release, but I tugged his hand away.
    “Leave it,” I said. “Might make someone’s day better.”
    He left it, but not before giving me that split-second glance—one so intense it seemed like he wanted to memorize every atom of me. I turned that moment over in my mind for weeks afterward.
    But by the time summer wound down and high school started up, I’d decided I must have imagined that look in his eye. And for the next two years, we remained firmly planted in the friend zone. That’s the real irony here. Declan and I may never have gotten together if it wasn’t for Sadie.
    She’s the one who gave us the final push during April of sophomore year: a game of Truth or Dare at Leah Gilmore’s sweet sixteen party. It was a few months after Natalie’s funeral, and at that point Declan and I still hadn’t gotten any further than holding hands when we watched a movie alone in the dark, or when we went for walks in the woods. He had this way of smoothing his thumb over the back of my wrist. Sometimes the memory of his touch is so vivid, I can almost feel it.
    Declan’s dad had already started to throw himself into his work, and Cory was busy with afternoon swim practices, while mine were usually first thing in the morning. So Declan and I began spending more and more time alone together. We spent hours doing homework in the tree house, or playing I Spy at the edge of the quarry. But sometimes our shared history felt like a roadblock. Like it was the fear of losing anything more that kept us from making the leap.
    Part of me sensed Sadie was going to do it all along, but I still flushed a deep red when she dared me to kiss Declan. It would be my first kiss. Sadie knew that.
    I managed to mumble that it was no big deal, mostly to settle my own nerves, but Declan wouldn’t look at me. He was too busy glaring at Sadie.
    “What’s the matter, Declan?” Sadie asked, a smile playing on her lips. “Can’t handle a stupid game?”
    Declan finally looked away from her, shaking his head. He stood up, and might have looked down at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.
    “It’s not a game for me,” he said gruffly.
    I found him on the front porch. The street lamps cast a puddle of cool light up the lawn. I crossed my arms against the chill and hesitated on the welcome mat outside the door. Declan stared straight ahead when I sat down next to him, and when I shivered he took off his jacket and put it around my shoulders without a word. When he finally spoke, he spoke quickly, telling me that he was sorry, but he just didn’t want to kiss me like that—with everyone watching and on Sadie’s terms. He paused, taking a long breath before looking at me and smiling shyly. “But I do want to kiss you.”
    “What’s so bad about Declan?” I ask now. Sadie turns to face me and I look down at the pleated skirt in my lap. “I mean, he’s gotten kind of cute, don’t you think?”
    She stares at me for another beat, her lips pursed, then turns back to her closet. “You’re really considering going down that road again? After all those weeks you spent whining about how much you missed him?”
    She doesn’t mean to be harsh. This is just how Sadie looks out for me. Same as when the rumors about me first started. She defended me to anyone who dared open their mouth in front of her. But when it’s just the two of us, she’s never been afraid to dish a serving of cold, hard truth.
    “Okay, I get it. You have never liked Declan.”
    “Like that feeling isn’t mutual. He practically begged you to stop hanging out with me, as I recall. And whatever, it’s not even about that. Do you seriously not remember how long it took you to get over him last time?”
    My eyes drift to her