8
Tessa.
Some risks taste sweeter than others. I should know by now that every time Liam pushes me, I’ll jump, and I’ll love the freefall. But nothing could have prepared me for how far I’d fall today.
It’s Saturday, a rare day when the whole family is together, everyone loud and laughing in the backyard. Dad’s manning the grill, apron tied tight over his belly. Mom flits around in a sundress, making sure everyone has enough to eat. The neighbors are over, and there’s a scattering of friends and cousins I barely remember, all crammed around the big plastic table under the old oak tree.
The air is thick with the smell of charcoal and cut grass, the buzz of cicadas, the clink of ice in lemonade glasses. There’s music playing, something old and summery, and the sun burns my shoulders as I
