“Sorry Miracle,” Cheyenne finally called when they were nearly outside earshot.

Miracle said nothing, but Hardy felt her deep inhalation beneath his hand and knew she was struggling with emotion.

Once they’d arrived at the cabana, Hardy stopped and took Miracle by the shoulders. They felt so thin and frail beneath his hands. She was even tinier than what he’d imagined. And now he knew why.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Miracle swallowed hard. “No, you go and have fun. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to leave. It’s not a big deal.”

Hardy couldn’t imagine what it cost her to be so brave and so selfless. He realized that she was twice the person he could ever hope to be.

“I’m ready to go. The beach has lost most of its appeal. Why don’t I take you home?”

Relief flashed quickly across Miracle’s face before she began to frown. “Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin your afternoon. And this is important to you, to your game.”

Hardy nearly laughed. At that moment, nothing was more important than Miracle.

“I’ll be fine. Seriously. Why don’t you change clothes and I’ll take you as I go?”

Reluctantly, Miracle nodded, turning to grab Cheyenne’s big canvas bag and head to the changing room. Hardy slipped on his wrinkled t-shirt and his tennis shoes while he waited, the sight of Miracle trying to cover herself playing over and over on a loop through his mind. He couldn’t help thinking it sad that when she looked in the mirror, she probably didn’t see beyond that scar. He doubted she saw the beautiful girl staring back at her.

When Miracle emerged, dressed once more in her slightly ill-fitting clothes, Hardy’s heart squeezed inside his chest to see that her eyes and nose were red. She’d been crying. Silently.

Hardy took the bag from her fingers, unzipping the outside pocket to bring out a set of keys. Palming them, he held out his other hand to Miracle.

“Come on,” he said, not caring whether anyone would see him holding her hand. In fact, he couldn’t have cared less.

Hesitantly, Miracle slid her cool fingers across his palm and he curled his larger ones around them, marveling at her delicate bones. Neither of them said another word as they made their way back to Cheyenne’s car.

After Hardy had stowed his shorts and socks beneath the driver’s seat, he turned the ignition key and the engine purred quickly to life. He turned to Miracle and smiled. He was happy to see that she was smiling as well; it was a small, mischievous one.

“Won’t Cheyenne get mad that you’re taking her car without asking?”

Hardy shrugged, completely unconcerned. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

With a grin, he shifted into gear. Just before his foot hit the gas pedal, he heard Miracle say in a quiet voice, “I know she didn’t mean to do that.”

Hardy simply stared at Miracle. He knew she thought Cheyenne didn’t purposely embarrass her that way; there was no way she could’ve known about the scar. But Cheyenne had tried to force Miracle into doing something she didn’t want to do. So, whether her intentions were good or not, the fact that her inconsiderate nature had caused Miracle such obvious humiliation was enough to make Hardy see red. He wasn’t as kind and forgiving as Miracle. He doubted anyone on the planet was.

“She still ruined your afternoon and I’m really sorry about that.”

Miracle smiled her sad, sweet smile, reaching out to lay her hand on top of Hardy’s. Hardy had to make himself not turn his hand over to lace his fingers through hers.

“Don’t be,” she advised kindly. Her eyes shone with something he’d never seen in another person, something otherworldly, as if she’d seen things that most others hadn’t. Hardy could only guess at what she’d had to suffer in order to get a look like that, a world view like that. Miracle made his heart hurt. But she also made it fly.

“Now,” Miracle said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headrest. “Let’s get some music going and some wind in our hair!”

Hardy smiled, feeling more energized by her presence than he had any right to feel. For a moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take his eyes off her long enough to drive. She had tilted her head back just enough that the sun fell full on her face. Her complexion was like rich cream, her lips pouty, and her nose straight. It even bathed the gentle curve of her throat. She was mesmerizing.

Finally, when she turned her head toward him and cracked an eyelid, he looked down to turn on the radio and then steer the car out of the parking lot.

“Where am I going?” he asked, hating to disturb her.

“Do you know where Iron Street is?”

Hardy nodded and listened as Miracle told him how to get to her house. What Hardy knew of Iron Street was that it was fairly low income. Other than that, he knew very little, as he’d never been there. But still, he knew where it was.

Miracle resumed her position and Hardy pulled onto the road. He sneaked a glance in her direction every couple of minutes, unable to help himself. She looked perfectly at peace. He hoped she could just forget about today. Just not about him.

Miracle opened her eyes when he began making the series of short turns that would bring them to her house. Neither of them said anything. It wasn’t until he’d pulled to a stop outside a tiny white house and put the car into park that she even looked in his direction.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home.”

“My pleasure,” Hardy said simply, smiling and hoping there would be no mention of Cheyenne or her antics.

Miracle watched him for several seconds—seconds during which he concluded he’d never wanted to kiss someone more—before she nodded once and reached for the door handle.

“Miracle,” Hardy said, stopping her. She turned back to him, an expectant look on her face. “Are you coming to the game tonight?”

She made a face that gave him his answer before she even opened her mouth. She wrinkled her nose and bit her lip as if hesitant to tell him no, but planning on it nonetheless. He’d known before he asked what her answer would be. But he had to ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s just…I thought…it’s just that I’d really love for you to come.”

Hardy was silently telling himself to shut up, not to pressure her. But something inside him wanted to see her in the stands so badly, wanted to know she was there so much that he couldn’t stop himself.

“I don’t really know many people yet and after today…”

“Please don’t let that upset you,” Hardy said, closing his eyes on the plea.

Miracle shrugged. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Don’t know if what’s a good idea?” a small, vaguely familiar voice asked from behind Miracle. Hardy had been so absorbed he hadn’t even noticed the girl, Mila, come out of the house.

Miracle turned toward her. “Going to the football game tonight.”

Mila’s face lit up. “Oh, I wanna go!”

“Mila, I just said I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But why?”

“I just…don’t.”

“Please, Miracle. Take me. Pleeeeeeease!”

Hardy watched Mila screw up her face as she begged. Miracle sighed. They stared each other down, engaged in a silent struggle Hardy found very interesting. It was obvious that Mila knew exactly which buttons to push in order to get what she wanted.

Finally, on a soul-weary sigh, Miracle turned back to Hardy. “I guess I’ll be there.”

“We. We’ll be there,” Mila added with a satisfied smile. Miracle rolled her eyes.

Hardy couldn’t contain his laugh. It was due in part to their dynamic and Miracle’s frustration. But mostly, it was because he couldn’t remember being so happy with any particular person coming to watch him play football. Not even the scouts.

“Awesome. I’m sure I’ll see you in the stands.”

“How? You’ll be playing.”

“I’ll find you. Trust me,” Hardy said with a grin. Without another word, he shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. Better to make his exit while he still had a modicum of dignity intact. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but he knew he’d have to watch himself. Miracle could be dangerous.

********

“Who was that?” Mila asked as she watched Hardy drive away.

“Hardy Bradford.”

“Hardy,” she repeated in a daze. “Sweet baby Jesus, he’s hot!”

Miracle laughed. “You think?”

Mila turned to look at Miracle, her mouth open and her eyes disbelieving. “You’re joking, right?”

Miracle said nothing, only laughed again.

“Let me put it this way, if you don’t kiss him and give me every single sordid detail, I will fashion a noose and hang myself from the ceiling fan in your room. And you know how badly that could turn out. It took me years to learn to tie my shoes.”

Miracle laughed again. Mila was fourteen and, not surprisingly, prone to hyperbole and theatricality. Although she was even more petite than Miracle, she was not to be underestimated. She was mature, feisty and extremely intelligent for her age.

“Maybe we can practice nooses in the coming weeks then, because he’s dating the most gorgeous, vicious girl in school.”

“Which is undoubtedly why he’s already fallen in love with you.”

“That’s the most insane logic I’ve ever heard.”

“Insanity is a requirement to live in our house. You know that.”

“Good point.”

“So, you’re taking me to the game. What are we gonna wear?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m wearing this.”

“Uh, no you’re not,” Mila snorted. “You’ll be wearing something of mine. Something that fits.”

“And why would I want to do that when I can be much more comfortable in my own clothes?”

“Because I want this for you,” Mila said in a rare moment of sentimentality. “I want him for you.”

Miracle could feel her heart swell around what her sister was implying and it brought a fresh wash of tears to her eyes. If she died tomorrow, Miracle would die happy, knowing that she was surrounded by the most incredible people the world had to offer.

Miracle blinked her eyes several times before she sighed and rolled them dramatically. “Fine. Let’s go play dress up.”

Mila squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. Miracle laughed as she watched her bounce down the walkway in front of her. It was worth the next four hours of torture just to see Mila so happy.

Miracle knew Mila needed things like this—carefree times, sisterly times, normal times—to add to her abundance of bad memories. There was always the hope that the good would eventually outweigh and eclipse the bad. They all needed some good times.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hardy had never been more nervous before a game. Although he was nodding at all the right places as his dad spoke, his mind was already wandering through the crowd, looking for Miracle.

“Now, son, you know how important this is. Your dream of playing college and professional football might very well start tonight. Go out there and do your best. Make us proud,” Hardy’s father was saying and, again, Hardy nodded. Wayne Bradford grabbed Hardy by the back of the neck and brought his face in close, searching his eyes. “Head in the game, Hardy. Head in the game.”

With great difficulty, Hardy pulled his mind back into the present, back into the locker room. “Yes, sir.”

Wayne gently slapped the side of Hardy’s head. “That’s my boy,” he said, seemingly satisfied that Hardy was paying attention. “Go out there and show ‘em how the Bradfords do it.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Hardy’s father exited the locker room to make his way into the stands with Hardy’s mother and much younger brother, Clay, just like he did before every game. Everyone in Hardy’s life stuck to the ritual. Everyone.

As the coach gave them his usual pep talk and this could be the game that defines your life speech, Hardy purposed to keep his mind on football and off Miracle. His father was right. His entire academic and professional future could be riding on his performance this year, maybe even this night. He’d been groomed for this practically his whole life. There was nothing more important to his family, to his father, than Hardy’s future career as a professional football player. And Hardy had never felt the weight of those expectations more than he did tonight.

As the Seminoles took the field, Hardy struggled to keep his mind on the game, to keep his eyes out of the stands. He concentrated with all his might. And it worked until the coin toss was over. Then, as she had at the beginning of every game for three years, Cheyenne bounced over to him, pressed her fingertips to her lips and then pressed them to his through his face mask. It was the switch that flipped his mind back over to thoughts of Miracle.

After he’d dropped her off, Hardy had driven Cheyenne’s car to school and left it parked so that he could drive his own car home. He’d called her cell to tell her she’d need to get a ride back to school with someone else. She’d been aggravated, but not overly so. She knew he was still angry over what she’d done to Miracle. Despite her apologies and assurances to the contrary, Hardy still felt she’d been out to embarrass Miracle all along, even though she’d had no idea about the scar. She’d have done something else to humiliate her. That was just the way Cheyenne was. And Hardy had had enough.