Prologue
Seven years earlier
Emerson
Emerson’s best friend, Rhys, joined in with the Rose family as they sang Emerson happy birthday. They had lived across the street from each other their entire lives, and Rhys was pretty much an extension of Emerson’s family—except for the Roses’ trademark ginger hair and freckles that Emerson detested.
Rhys had been there for every major event and milestone, practically every sad or happy occasion. Like when Emerson’s biological father walked out on him when he was only a toddler, or when his mom remarried and then had two more kids by the time Emerson was twelve.
The neighbors had long gotten used to their shenanigans, which involved Emerson jumping over fences to cut through to the park or Rhys using the neighbor’s upturned sidewalk to make sleds or skateboards fly. Emerson generally played it safe because that was ingrained in his personality, but he usually got a kick out of Rhys’s antics, and every now and again he’d take him up on a dare—if it wasn’t too dangerous.
Like last summer when some asswipe at the neighborhood pool dared them to play gay chicken, which was a stupid game where two “straight” guys moved their faces closer and closer to each other like they were gonna kiss, and the first to flinch would lose the bet. Emerson was just insecure enough to care what those kids thought at the time.
But Rhys pretended to buy into it. He winked conspiratorially at Emerson, and just as Rhys’s lips moved dangerously close to Emerson’s and his pulse thrummed fiercely, Rhys whispered, “I actually am gay.” Emerson barely had time to react before Rhys pushed him in the deep end. His cartoonish arm-flailing before he went in was apparently so funny to those on standby that the game was quickly forgotten and a dunking match ensued before the lifeguards blew their whistles and kicked them all out.
“Happy birthday to you! You live in a zoo!” Rhys now sang in a goofy voice along with Emerson’s stepfather, Brad. And as Emerson laughed and playfully elbowed his best friend, he’d admit that Rhys’s confession last summer had not only startled but also fascinated him—to be that certain of yourself, which was so like Rhys, when Emerson’s insides were a jumbled mess most of the time. It had become a nonissue, though. Emerson’s parents and Rhys’s mom had always preached inclusion and acceptance, and he and Rhys never brought it up again.
Besides, neither of them had experienced any first crushes on anyone their freshman year like some of the other kids in their school—at least not that Rhys had shared or that Emerson noticed. And he figured he’d absolutely notice since they were together so much. He’d been lectured about hormones and puberty by his mom but usually tuned it out because freaking embarrassing. Plus, it made him feel even more behind, but at least Rhys seemed to be in the same boat, so maybe turning fifteen would bring some good surprises for them both.
After they devoured the chocolate cake and cleared the table, Rhys helped Emerson download the new video game he’d gotten for his birthday.
“Ready to get your butt whooped?” Emerson asked with a smirk. It was one of the only things he was better at than Rhys. Which didn’t say much because it only involved good hand-eye coordination and strategic thinking, but he’d take it.
“You wish!” Rhys scoffed, ever sure of himself even though he lost every single time. The handful of instances Emerson had felt bad and let him win, Rhys realized his scheme immediately.
It usually led to a wrestling match where sometimes Rhys got the upper hand and would straddle Emerson and tickle the most sensitive area on his rib cage until Emerson admitted the offense through tears that were part frustration, part laughter. Emerson hated feeling out of control and got so pissed one time, he’d kicked Rhys in the groin, so Rhys knew better than to try it again.
Just as they grabbed the controllers and were about to start playing, his mom stuck her head in the room. “How about getting out of the house in this awesome weather and taking Sam and Audrey to the carnival?”
The Woodcrest Fair kicked off at the end of August with rides and games, and Emerson knew how excited his siblings, who were four and six, were to visit the petting zoo. But couldn’t he catch a break, especially on his birthday? Didn’t his mom realize he would rather hang with his friends? He didn’t have that many—not like Rhys, who was way more outgoing than him—but he’d unquestionably have more fun if he didn’t have to drag his brother and sister along.
He supposed the carnival was pretty dumb anyway and most kids their age probably only went because they didn’t have much else to do. With that in mind, he let out an exasperated sigh and set down the controller. “Yeah, sure.”
Emerson was pretty good at clamping down his frustration in front of Rhys, but he’d no doubt heard his share over the years. Emerson was cool with being an older brother, and he thought his siblings were pretty sweet most of the time. They had their squabbles, of course, which always seemed to fascinate Rhys, as an only child raised by a single mother.
Sometimes after a marathon video-game session, they’d lie awake past midnight, talking about all kinds of stuff, including family. Rhys’s mom and dad had split up when Rhys was only a baby, and his father had never come around again, so he and Rhys had that in common. It was during those discussions that Rhys would sound most vulnerable, when he’d complain about some of his mom’s awful boyfriends and wish he had a family more like Emerson’s. Not that he didn’t love his mom—they were undeniably close, being just the two of them—but he was very protective of her and thought she deserved better.
Emerson would remind him that he was already part of the Rose clan, and Rhys would sigh dreamily before falling asleep, seemingly satisfied with that answer. But Emerson had always been reflective, so he’d stay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering what their future would bring, until finally succumbing to exhaustion.
“Feel like heading to the carnival with us?” Emerson asked in an earnest tone even though he knew he was laying it on thick and that Rhys would have trouble refusing him, especially on his birthday.
Rhys’s mom had some work thing tonight, he’d said, so maybe he’d want to tag along regardless. Besides, he’d probably just go home and watch more YouTube videos. Skateboarding, rock climbing, and dirt bikes always kept him riveted, and he’d confessed that one day he’d love to climb the side of a mountain. Not Emerson. He liked his feet firmly on the ground.
“Sounds good,” Rhys said, throwing an arm around him. “It’ll be fun.”
That was Rhys. Casual and chill and always down for most anything.
Emerson rolled his eyes. “If you say so.”
“And when we’re done, we can come back”—he glanced over his shoulder deviously—“and play video games all night.”
“Deal.” Emerson smirked. That made having to take his siblings to the stupid carnival worth it.
Emerson took hold of Sam’s and Audrey’s hands as they walked the three blocks to the fair, with Rhys wheeling alongside on his skateboard. He was rarely without it. He went to the skater bowl nearly every weekend and was teaching himself basic tricks. He wasn’t great, but Emerson could tell he loved the rush he got when his board went airborne. Normally, if it was just him and Emerson, he’d show off a little. In front of the kids, though, he acted super responsible, which cracked Emerson up. But it was also endearing because it was like he was trying to be a good big brother to them too. So he just kept his board nice and steady until they got to the entrance to the carnival, which was in a park near the center of town.