Honeysuckle Dreams Read online

  Her parents could’ve afforded better, but they were philanthropic to the extreme, always finding people less fortunate to give their money to. Sometimes Hope wished they weren’t so generous.

  Allison was so busy sneering at Hope as they passed that she walked straight into somebody.

  That somebody was Aaron Bailey.

  “Sorry.” Allison’s voice was all breathy, and her face turned a deep shade of pink as she looked up, up, up into Aaron’s handsome face.

  Aaron looked at Hope, at the pile of books at her feet, then locked onto her eyes. She got caught in his smoky-gray gaze, and her face heated as he sized up the situation.

  He gave Monica and Allison a charming smile. “I think our friend could use some help with her books, yeah?”

  Seemingly hypnotized by his smile, both girls stooped to help Hope with her books.

  “Here you go,” Monica said, shoving textbooks at Hope.

  Allison handed over her biology book, hardly looking away from Aaron. He was retrieving Hope’s English journal, on which she’d written her name in every font ever created, like some silly sixth grader.

  Once their task was done, Monica and Allison rushed off to class, looking over their shoulders at Aaron as they went.

  Hope shoved her books into her locker, her heart beating up into her throat. She wished she could slide inside the locker and close the door behind her.

  “Here you go.” Aaron’s voice was deep and somehow soft too. He towered over her shoulder, and he was standing near enough that she caught his clean, soapy smell.

  “Thanks.” Her face went warmer as she took the juvenile-looking notebook and stuffed it into her locker, never mind that she had English next.

  Why, oh, why did he have to come along just as she was being bullied? Why couldn’t he have noticed her during gym class when she was spiking a ball over the net or during the last assembly when she’d been recognized for her academic achievements?

  “Walk you to class?” he asked.

  “Um, my next class is on the other side of the school. I don’t want to make you late.” She shut her locker door.

  “I actually have a dentist appointment so I’m about to leave anyway.”

  “Lucky.” Her eyes climbed up to his face. He must have been at least six foot four or five. And he was as lanky as she imagined. But for all those long limbs, he moved so gracefully.

  “Lead the way,” he said.

  She started for class, setting a quick pace, hoping she might still beat the bell and also wanting to be rid of a guy who surely viewed her as some pitiful project.

  “So who were those girls?” He looked off in the direction they’d gone.

  Ah. He just wanted to the scoop on the class hotties. Her stomach gave a hard twist even as she told herself she was being stupid.

  “Monica has a boyfriend, but Allison’s not dating anyone. She’s the blonde. I’m sure she’d go out with you—her eyeballs were practically glued to you.”

  He gave her a mock scowl. “I’m not interested in going out with them. I was wondering why they were giving you a hard time.”

  Her face heated. “Oh. They were just messing around.”

  She wondered if her ears were red and looked down so the curtain of her hair hid them. She wished she could teleport to English class. Or simply melt into the ugly tile floor. She wasn’t picky.

  “I haven’t seen you around,” he said as if sensing she needed a change of subject.

  “I’m mostly in AP classes. And I don’t go to the games. I usually have to work at the diner on weekends.”

  “Maybe I’ll have to come see you there then.”

  Her jaw dropped a little. That didn’t make her sound like a project at all. But teenaged boys were confusing sometimes. Maybe he was just the friendly sort.

  She realized she was staring and jerked her eyes away. When she reached her class, he waved good-bye with a friendly smile.

  He did come to see her at the diner that very weekend. He came with one of the guys on the basketball team and flirted with her every time she came to his table. She was so flustered she almost spilled his coffee right in his lap. The next week he caught up with her in the hallway and asked her out.

  Aaron was the nicest boy she’d ever known. He somehow fit in with everyone: the jocks, the popular cliques, the mathletes . . . Everybody liked him. Their first date led to another and another, and by spring the two were officially a couple.

  Everything changed for her somehow, being Aaron’s girlfriend. She was accepted into new circles. No one, not even Monica and Allison, teased her about where she lived or her secondhand clothes. But the best part of being Aaron’s girlfriend was Aaron himself.

  He could just look at her and make her knees go all wobbly. When he kissed her, the rest of the world disappeared. She realized why people talked about “falling in love.” Indeed, it felt like a breath-stealing free fall from the top of the world. Exhilarating. Wonderful. Powerful.

  The summer passed in a glorious haze, and before she knew it, they were starting their junior years. While she concentrated on her grades, Aaron was laser-focused on training. He came from a middle-class family, but they had four kids to put through college. He needed a scholarship and was hoping to be recruited by Duke.

  That fall he became a starter on the varsity team and was, in fact, the star of the team—a real feat for a junior. The team only lost two games the whole season, and everyone was talking about Aaron’s future.

  In the spring they went to junior prom, and when school let out they began another summer together. But midway into June his beloved grandma fell ill. He worked during the day but devoted his evenings to her, making sure she had company and food and that her lawn was mowed. He was with her at the end when she slipped quietly into heaven.

  Watching his tender heart break, Hope fell more deeply in love with him. She held him when he cried after the funeral, thumbing tears from his face and pushing his hair back from his forehead.

  By the time their senior year started, Hope was glad he had a distraction from his loss. And then, in December, he got the news he’d been waiting for: he was offered a full scholarship to Duke.

  Hope was so proud of him. But the university was six hours away, and he’d be too busy with school and training to return to Copper Creek to see his girlfriend on weekends. Aaron was loath to be apart too. He encouraged her to apply to Duke and try to get an academic scholarship. He believed in her, and before long they had a plan in place.

  For the first time in her life Hope started to imagine a life bigger than Orchard Estates. Bigger than Copper Creek.

  She was going to get an academic scholarship at Duke and major in communications. She wanted to have a real career and forget where she came from.

  It was just the two of them, working toward a better, brighter future. When she was accepted and offered a nice scholarship, Aaron surprised her with dinner at the Blue Moon Grill. They were floating on air.

  But they were so deeply in love, and four years seemed like too long to wait to get married. By mutual agreement they began dropping hints to their parents about getting married during their sophomore year in college. Mr. and Mrs. Bailey were resistant at first.

  But it would be cheaper to share student housing, Aaron argued. His full-ride scholarship would cover tuition, room, and board. Aaron, with his training schedule and classes, wouldn’t have time to work, but Hope could get a part-time job. They could make it work somehow. By February his parents were beginning to capitulate.

  Their future together seemed like a beautiful Christmas present, complete with a big red bow, theirs for the unwrapping. Even the basketball season, which was nearing an end, had the state championship in sight. The Copper Creek Miners easily claimed the sectional title, and the last week of February brought the regional game, which would be played on home turf.

  Spirits were high in the school’s halls. Aaron was a rising star on a winning team, but it didn’t go to his head
like it did some of the other players. He was the same old Aaron, high-fiving even the lowly freshmen in the hallways. The school cheered the team on with a rousing pep assembly.

  That night the crowd was fired up on both sides of the gymnasium. A quick start by the Miners put them ahead early. Aaron was in fine form, putting up fourteen points by halftime, leaving Copper Creek ahead by two.

  The crowd was energized as the second half began. Hope stood next to Zoe in the student section. The smell of popcorn hung in the air, mingling with the tang of sweat and floor wax. The players’ soles squeaked on the wood court, and the cheerleaders chanted in unison.

  The crowd cheered as their guard sank a free throw, nothing but net, and a few minutes later the stands shook with stomping when the Generals stood at the line. The free-throw shooter missed the shot, and the Miners rebounded the ball.

  “Let’s go, Miners!” Hope shouted.

  Beside her, Zoe munched nervously on her popcorn, but Hope could only wring her hands as Aaron dribbled the ball across the court, calling out a play. The Miners darted around the court, guarded closely by the Generals.

  “Come on, Aaron!” Her call mingled with all the others.

  Aaron passed the ball to a teammate and shuffled into a new position. Hope’s eyes were on the ball: Lewis to Gavin to Jared. A movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention.

  Her eyes darted to Aaron as he hit the ground. His head hit the wood floor, and his body stilled.

  “Foul!” someone called.

  “Aaron!” Hope’s hand shot to her mouth as the referee’s whistle pierced the air.

  The player who guarded Aaron stepped back, hands raised.

  Zoe grabbed her arm. “It’s okay. He just needs a minute.”

  “What happened?” Hope said.

  “I didn’t see it.”

  “He’s not moving!” Hope said, her voice just a whisper.

  Her heart stuttered at her boyfriend’s still form. At the sight of Coach Watkins running onto the court. She was vaguely aware of the players taking knees. Of the deadly hush of the crowd.

  “He hit his head,” Zoe said. “He probably has a concussion. He’ll be fine.”

  Right. A concussion. He’d wake up in a few seconds, and the crowd would applaud as he was led to the locker room to get checked over really well.

  Someone dashed across the court, and Hope realized it was Jared’s dad. He was an EMT with the local fire department. He knelt beside Aaron, blocking their view. He seemed to be checking vitals, but a moment later he began chest compressions.

  A shiver passed over Hope’s entire body, and her legs buckled beneath her. “Oh no.”

  Zoe’s hand tightened on her arm, but Hope broke loose. She stumbled down the stands, pushing fellow students aside. She flew across the court and was a few feet away when the assistant coach caught her.

  “Whoa. Stay back, Hope. Give them room to work.”

  “What’s happening?” She fought for release, needing to be near Aaron more than she needed her next breath. But Coach Drury had her around the shoulders, his grip like manacles.

  Oh, God, please!

  He wasn’t breathing. His heart wasn’t beating. Her hands flew to her face. Her legs trembled beneath her, and the arms that imprisoned her now worked to keep her upright.

  “Aaron!” Her scream echoed through the quiet gym.

  Please, God. Oh, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll trade places with him!

  The minutes passed in agonizing slowness. Someone else was looking through Hope’s eyes, seeing Aaron’s lifeless body, his scarred knee lying so close. Seeing his mom on the other side of him, his dad holding her, horror etched in the planes of their faces.

  Minutes, hours, days later a muted siren sounded. Then people were rushing, lifting him on a cart, taking him away.

  “I have to . . .” She tried to follow, but her legs gave out.

  Coach Drury caught her around the waist. “Do you have a friend who can take you to the hospital? Hope?”

  “I’ll take her.” Zoe was there, and minutes later she was in her friend’s car.

  A coldness had swept over Hope. She felt chilled from the bones out. Her breath was caught in her lungs as if the air had solidified in her chest like cement.

  What if he died? What if he was already dead? No, it wasn’t possible. Not Aaron. This was just a nightmare. She’d wake up soon. She closed her eyes against the burn, and suddenly her breath came back. It rushed in and out until she felt dizzy.

  “Hang in there, honey,” Zoe said. “We’re almost there.”

  “Aaron . . .” It was only a squeak.

  “I know. I’m praying hard. Just keep praying.”

  She did pray . . . if halted words, incomplete sentences, and disjointed thoughts counted as prayer.

  In the waiting room she rushed to the front desk. “My boyfriend was brought in, Aaron Bailey, he collapsed during a basketball game, is he all right?”

  Hope barely registered the sympathy in the lady’s eyes. “Let me just—”

  “Hope!” Mrs. Bailey rushed forward and pulled her into her arms. “Oh, Hope, this can’t be happening.”

  “Is he okay? Have you heard anything?”

  “No word yet.” Mr. Bailey had come to stand by his wife.

  “He just fell, though, and hit his head. He’ll be fine, right?”

  Tears slipped from Mrs. Bailey’s gray eyes, so like Aaron’s. “They . . . they were still doing CPR in the ambulance, Hope.”

  “But now that he’s here, they’ll be able to properly treat him.” She had to hang on to that hope.

  The Baileys led her into the waiting room, and Zoe sat beside her, taking her hand.

  Please, God. He’s my heart. My everything. I can’t lose him.

  She thought of Aaron, of his expressive smile, of his unrelenting kindness. God wouldn’t take him. Not Aaron. He was a shining light in a dark world. He had a bright future ahead of him. They had a bright future ahead of them.

  She thought of Aaron’s mom, Susan, who’d lost her mother not long ago and who was the most devoted mom she knew. Her heart ached at the thought of them losing their baby and only son.

  Time slowed to a crawl, every sense on high alert. Hope felt as if days had passed by the time a doctor came through the doors. The Baileys were taken to the back while Hope paced the small waiting room.

  “He must be fine now, right?” she asked Zoe. “They’re taking them back to see him.”

  Maybe they’d come get her soon. She needed to see his precious face. See his eyes wide open, his chest rising and falling. She was going to let him have it for scaring her so badly!

  But when Mark Bailey came back through the doors his shoulders were slumped, and there was a horrible look of shock on his face.

  Hope didn’t even realize she’d approached him until he stopped in front of her. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked ten years older than when he’d left.

  Hope couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. Zoe was at her side, slipping an arm around her.

  “He . . . he’s gone, Hope,” Mark said, his tone flat, disbelieving.

  No.

  No, he couldn’t be gone. He was just dashing up the court. Giving Jared a high five, that contagious smile spreading across his face.

  Hope shook her head. Her vision blurred. An ache bloomed in her chest, wide and consuming, and she pressed against it.

  It couldn’t be true. Not Aaron.

  “Susan’s with him now. I have some phone calls to make.”

  “I don’t understand . . . ,” Hope said. “He just fell. He has to be okay.”

  “They don’t know what happened. But they did everything they could. He’s gone, Hope.” His words wobbled as he pulled her into his arms and clung to her.

  Hope choked back the sobs that built in her chest, and they filled her throat with a lump the size of Texas.

  He pulled away a long minute later. And it was the bleak look on his face that
broke through her denial. Her eyes burned, and her legs wavered beneath her.

  Zoe took her arm.

  “I-I want to see him,” Hope said.

  “Of course.” Mark knuckled away his tears. “I’ll take you back.”

  She followed silently through the double doors and down the long, sterile hallway. She heard Susan’s sobs before Mark even opened the door.

  “Why don’t I wait out here,” Zoe said.

  Hope went inside, her wobbly legs carrying her toward Aaron’s bedside. He still wore his basketball uniform. His head lay flat on the bed, and the harsh fluorescent lights made his skin pale. His hair was still damp with sweat.

  Mark set his hand on her back, and she realized she’d stopped halfway to the bed. She took three steps and stopped again, staring down at her beloved’s face. His long, dark lashes fanned his cheeks, and his lips were parted as if for a breath. She reached out and took his hand, curling her fingers around his.

  He looked as if he were merely sleeping. But his chest was eerily still. His hand was limp and cool against her palm, and the paleness was not an effect of the lighting.

  He was gone. He was really gone.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Then Zoe was there, holding her, and the sobs she’d choked back before clawed their way out.

  The next few days passed in a numb blur. Aaron’s autopsy showed he’d died of sudden cardiac arrest brought on by an undiagnosed heart condition. The disorder apparently killed about 150 athletes every year.

  But having an answer didn’t help. He was still gone. Arrangements were made; the funeral was held. Hope said good-bye to Aaron and left him in a vault suspended over the hole where his body would rest.

  Everyone was sorry. Everyone was available to lend a hand. Everyone was praying for her. She’d never known how empty the platitudes were until now.

  She was dead inside. As dead as Aaron.

  In the weeks that followed she took each moment as it came. She couldn’t think past the present. Aaron was supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in this moment with her. But he wasn’t. Where was God in all this? Why had He allowed this? She’d trusted Him with her future, and He’d gone and done this horrible thing.