Chapter 1

A/N: I own nothing. This is a minoly edited version.

If you had asked me a year ago where I'd be right now, driving around the parking lot of an elementary school in the tiniest village known to man would have not been in my top five answers. It wouldn't have even made the list. Yet here I am, sitting in the passenger seat of my dad's Porsche, bone tired from jet lag, as we drive around the unbelievably full parking lot searching for a spot. I didn't even know Huckabee, Pennsylvania had enough people to fill up this parking lot, but Friday night charity Bingo is really popular in a town where there's not much else to do.

I think dad always wanted to move back here to Huckabee, the town where he grew up. And so, when his tech company offered him an all-remote job, he jumped at the opportunity and within the month, our house was packed and we were moving across the company to the town he left twenty years ago. We're moving in with my grandmother to a house that's pretty much a mansion that my grandfather designed and built. My dad thinks the timing was perfect because his father had just died, leaving my very-capable grandmother alone for the first time in fifty years. I honestly think it was more for him than my grandmother, really. And while I'm not really thrilled having to leave my mom's family and friends behind, I am looking forward to getting to know my dad's mother. My grandfather and I had a special bond over our mutual love for drawing and design, but I don't know my grandmother all that well, having not seen her in a decade. Plus, being a single dad has been hard on him so I try not to cause him trouble, but leaving Hawaii was difficult, particularly before my senior year.

My mother died seventeen years ago, giving birth to me. She was a Hawaii native and her parents and brothers stayed close to our family. And now I've left the only place I can imagine her in and the people that remind me of her. I think wistfully of my cousins back home, probably doing something way more exciting on a weekend. At least I still have my mom's letter for company. She wrote me one before going into labor and sometimes it's the only way I feel close to her. Those words live in my head like mantras and force me to be open to every new opportunity. Even ones that have me living in Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania.

But it's hard to imagine this town will be exciting for me. Even though my grandmother's house (my house, I suppose) is beyond beautiful, it's surrounded by places like their old place-farms. We've seen at least fifty dairy farms in the two days we've lived here. It's not like I moved from the big city, but I can't think of any dairy farms on Kauai. And there's no water around here. Being in a landlocked city makes me feel strangely boxed in. I think of my friends, probably surfing on a Friday in the summer and feel a pang of sadness.

Bingo isn't really my thing, but as a part of being open to opportunities, I agreed to join my dad. Plus, he told me my entire senior class would probably be here. And that would include Emily, the daughter of dad's best friend from high school. Emily, who I last saw a decade ago, but still think about every now and again. Emily, with the straight brown hair and the daring grin with the dimple. Emily, who also lost her mother but that's not the thing I want to connect with her about. The last time I saw Emily was the second grade when our Christmas prank went awry. Admittedly, sparklers indoors was not the best idea, but I didn't think Emily would actually go for it.

"We should have left earlier like Joe told us to," my dad says as I finally spot an opening between an old, rusty, forest green jeep and a garbage can and my dad slides in. He immediately texts Joe. "We're going to be so late."

Dad hates being late. We rush out of the car and into the building, following signs for the Bingo fundraiser. It's being held in the gymnasium where people of all ages are crammed onto lunch tables, hunched over their Bingo cards which are already partially full. The woman at the front of the room wears a smart pink suit and matching acrylic nails that hold the tiny balls pulled out of a giant spinning sphere.

Wicker baskets covered in cellophane form a sea around her. The realization of the type of town we've moved to hits me and for a moment this all feels impossible. My eyes scan the room catching a table of three boys and one girl who are clearly the "cool kids" around here. In Hawaii, that's where I'd be sitting. I pull my eyes away when dad spots the Clarks and we walk over there, my eyes on the long, thin straight brown haired girl next to him.

Emily.

She's facing away from me, but I can see her slim shoulders covered by a dark purple sweatshirt shaking in laughter from a joke her dad must have told her. It's one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard.

"Dang, look at you Clark," my dad says. "Still can't count for shit."

Joe looks up with a smile and shakes my father's hand. My dad's face is alight with excitement at seeing his old friend. Joe, on the other hand, looks just like I remember from that Christmas many moons ago, plus a few wrinkles. His light gray shirt is crumpled and his jeans look dirty. He's pale, like most of the town of Huckabee.

"Hey, Em," I say as I slide into the bench next to her. I'm not sure if she still goes by the nickname. Her head swivels around and I see her.

I silently groan realizing she's exactly my type, which I kind of suspected even before seeing the older version of her. The girl I'd kind of liked without fully understanding what I felt at seven is now a thin, brown-haired teenager with eyes that matched the color of freshly dug earth. Her skin is the milky, pale color I've come to associate with Pennsylvanians but somehow it suits her. Her long blond hair is tied into a ponytail with a few strands that cross her face. Ten years ago, the feelings I had toward her had been friendship. Now though, my heart beats faster as I see a smile creep onto her face with a light blush on her cheeks. I can feel the eyes of every table on ours and I wonder if they can see the sparks flying between us. I've always been a romantic but I'm imagining actual sparks here, with a girl this pretty.

"I have your card," she blurts out and I snap out of my ogling reverie as she slides a bingo card towards me that's one away from winning in a few spaces. I watch her small hands as she's careful to make sure the chips stay in their spot, the card pushed with precision.

"Thanks," I say as I smile at her.

"You're one away from a bingo in two places," she says and a delicate red colors her cheeks again. Mixed with her cream skin, it gives her the appearance of a doll.

The woman at the podium calls out B12 and I see that Emily's card is a winner, but Emily hasn't stopped looking at me. Could she be checking me out too?

"Hey, lucky you," I say after a few seconds pass, as I slide a red chip onto her board. "You just beat me to it. Bingo!"