Free Golden by Jessi Kirby

I could find them.” It’s the truth, just not the whole thing.
    Kat’s quiet a moment. “You’re kidding, right? Their initials on a tree is why we’re here? Do you know how many initials are carved into the trees down there?”
    â€œI told you you’d think it was stupid—”
    â€œI don’t know if stupid’s the right word,” she says, getting to her feet. “But it is kind of weird. Why are you all of a sudden obsessed with them since you got that letter? It’s not like you get points with the scholarship board for finding their lost initials.”
    â€œI don’t know, I . . . it’s kind of romantic to think they’re out here somewhere. I just wanted to see.”
    Kat shakes her head. “Clearly, you’re in need of a life outside of sappy books and movies,” she says. “And a guy. Which I’m gonna help you out with right now. I know how you like your knights in shining armor, so let’s call one to come get us out of this mess.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œI don’t know. Whoever’s willing to drive all the way out here and get us unstuck. Relax about it,” she says with a wink. “Enjoy the sun and the last of your freedom.”

10.
    â€œHe asked with the eyes more than the lips . . .”
    â€”“LOVE AND A QUESTION,” 1913
    By the time we finally hear an engine heading our way, the sun is high and the mud on our clothes is nearly dry, and I’m grimly resigned to the fact that I probably won’t be leaving my house for anything but school for the rest of the year. It doesn’t matter though. This turned out to be such a bad idea, I don’t even care.
    And then I do care. Because when our rescue car rounds the turn, I can see it’s actually a silver Suburban—one that I know well. I look at Kat and shake my head without saying anything.
    â€œWhat?” she asks innocently, but her smile says she knows exactly what.
    â€œYou called Trevor Collins to come get us?” I wipe at my face, try to smooth my mud-caked hair. “That’s your idea of a knight in shining armor?”
    Kat just smiles, proud of herself, then shrugs. “Don’t be so surprised. Who did you think I was gonna call? I knew he’d come if I told him I was with you. Turns out I was right. Just like always.”
    The Suburban stops, then does a three-point turn before backing up to Kat’s bumper. When Trevor gets out, it’s with a smug grin on his face, one that’s aimed right at me. “You could’ve just called me and said you wanted to hang out, Frost. No need to go to all this trouble.”
    â€œWell, you know,” I say rubbing at a patch of mud on my forearm. “I figure when you’re up against such a long list of people vying for your attention, it’s better to take a different approach.”
    â€œTook you long enough,” Kat says.
    Trevor walks around to the back of his car and opens the door, leans in, and comes back out with a rope. “I would’ve come sooner if I’d known mochas and baristos were code for mud-wrestling.” He squats down to the truck and, with hands that look sure and strong, knots the rope around Kat’s bumper and then his own. Then without another word, he hops back in his car, hits the gas, and pops Kat’s truck out of the mud like it’s nothing.
    Kat nudges me with her elbow. “He’s taking you home.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYes.” She smiles through her teeth, then hooks an arm through mine and drags me over to the bumpers, whereTrevor is now untying the rope. “Yay, thank you!” She gushes. “We owe you big-time for that.” She pauses, and I realize a second too late I should’ve probably added something.
    â€œIt’s fine,” he smiles. “Any excuse to get out of sixth period.” He holds one end of the rope and quickly