Emerge (Evolve Series #1)(4)



shoulder on the breeze, “night,” to which I smile and give a small wave, knowing I’ll talk to him again at least once before

going to sleep.



I’m barely out of the shower when my text dings. I know it’s Evan before even looking.

Evan: You ok?

His thoughtfulness sparks a grin despite my slightly dismal mood.

Laney: Of course, always am eventually. Hot shower helped.

Evan: So this wknd, let’s do something.

Why he has to clarify this, I’m not sure. I can’t remember the last weekend night I didn’t spend with Evan, but I’ll play

along.

Laney: K...?

Evan: I meant let’s do something different. Laney: Like?

Evan: Idk, maybe a nice dinner out?

Laney: Evan, are you asking me on a date?

Of course he’s not, Evan and I aren’t like that, but I love to tease him.

Evan: Maybe.

Laney: Maybe you should slide me a note tomorrow and I can check the box yes or no.

Evan: Huh?

Laney: Come here please.

I’m leaning out my open window when he saunters up. He’s changed into black basketball shorts and a grey t-shirt, no shoes. He

runs one hand through his hair as he walks up to me, a sure sign he’s nervous. Why?

“Hello again, Mr. Allen. You could have stopped to put on shoes.” I nod to his feet and laugh.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“I guess you’re wondering why I’ve called this meeting.” I have to really try to keep a serious face but he’s smiling.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, should a young man wish to take a young lady to dinner, he should probably ask her in person. There are certain things

still not textably acceptable.”

He laughs; I love that sound. He really is the most adorable guy alive. No wonder the girls at school make fools of themselves over

him.

“I mean, I know it’s not a date date, but still...humor me.”

“Laney Jo Walker, I would very much like to take you out for a nice dinner this weekend. I would like to open doors and bring you

flowers. You can call it, or not call it, whatever you want.”

Hand through hair again; why is he anxious? We’ve eaten together more times than I can count, and usually whichever of us has

money right then pays, so what’s the big deal?

He looks past my shoulder. “Sound good?”

“I accept. It sounds very nice.” I cock my head to the side, forcing him to meet my eyes, and smile. “But how nice are we

talking? You know I’m not wearing a dress, right?”

“The crazy thought never crossed my mind, sunshine. Wear whatever you want.”

“K, then I’ll see you in the morning. Am I riding with you?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” And with that, he winks and walks back to his house.



Despite my clammy, fidgeting hands and perpetual cotton-mouth, dinner is amazing; even better than I expected. Vicenza’s is a new

Italian restaurant one town over, with candlelight, soft music and all those other “date restaurant” things. It is the nicest

place I’ve ever been to and the food is delicious. I’m always grateful when he gets me to try new things and I can’t help but

reminisce.

Evan’s 11th birthday party was the first time I’d ever ice skated. I only fell on top of him like five times before I got the

hang of it, which I counted as a success.

The first time I jumped off the bluff at Miller’s Landing, it was because Evan had jumped with me, hand in hand. There had never

been an encore and we pinky swore not to tell our parents.

My first try-out for a team my dad didn’t coach, in ninth grade, Evan gave me the pep talk to do so. He’d left a Good Luck card

in my locker that day and rode with my dad to pick me up after tryouts.

He clears his throat to bring me back to the present. One glance at him tells me he has something big to say. “Laney, I’m

signing. I’m going to play ball at UGA.” The University of Georgia, our dream.

I jump out of my chair and round the table to hug him. “Congratulations, Evan! I’m so proud of you!”

He pulls me into his lap and kisses my forehead. “Thanks, boo! You heard from them yet?” Sweet Evan, his eyes optimistically

hopeful, like perhaps I just forgot to tell him, because he just knows they should have called for me. He believes in me

completely.

But I haven’t. As of right now, my options look like Tech or Southern. I don’t understand; my visit in the fall to the Bulldog

campus went great. The coach talked as though he’d been watching me for a while and my showcase for him was spot-on. I’d timed

his pitchers instantly and hit their change-ups the first time.

“I haven’t,” I say with as much cover over the sadness as I can muster. I really want to go to school with Evan. I’d tried for

UGA first in hopes of doing just that. Everyone had known forever that UGA would want Evan and we’d planned to go together.

“You will, Laney, I know it.” His confidence makes me want to hold out hope, but deep down I’m a realist.

“I’m sure you’re right,” I agree, smiling at him and moving back to my seat. “Let’s just enjoy our night.”

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