Page 278 of Blackwood

“Then we nailed it.”

Knox clears his throat again, trying to keep it together. “Alright, Cal, you and August take your fine-ass selves back to the bleachers.”

Cal kisses my forehead. August grins and salutes me before jogging off, dropping back into their spot with the rest of thefootball guys. I wipe under my eyes, sniff once, and glance over at Knox.

He gives me a small nod, mic still in hand. “Bella, head on out to the front walkway.”

The front walkway cuts between the edge of the court and the first row of bleachers, right where they’re all sitting. Lex. Cade. The Whitmores. The Barinovs. Roman.

Shit, this a mistake, I can’t do this.

“Where I’m From” by Jason Michael Carroll starts to play, soft and slow. I try to hold back the tears. I lock eyes with Lex. He nods once, calm and steady. I look at Cade, he smiles back at me.

No, they’re here. I can do this.

When I hit the first chorus, I start walking. Slow, easy steps across the front walkway, heels clicking against the metal walkway, the sound drowned beneath the music and my heartbeat.

God, Daddy, I hope you’re watching, because I don’t know how to do this without you.

When I sing about moms and dads being together since high school, my gaze finds Savannah and Clay—forever sweethearts. She blows me a kiss and I smile through the lump in my throat.

I keep singing. My voice stays steady, even when my hands tremble. And, when I reach the part that talks about brothers, I stop walking.

Zeke, please… if you’re out there, please be the good guy.I can’t survive this if you’re not.

Lex reaches out and rubs my thigh, just once. Like he knows I’m balancing on the edge of a thought I’m terrified to fall into. It’s enough. The storm inside me stills.

Then I hit the part about going home to family and friends, and I don’t hold back. I belt it out with my southern twang thick,raw, and real. That Arkansas grit lives in my bones, and it rises in every note.

Memories of my life in the south rushes through me. And all I can do is smile. It probably doesn’t sound like much to some people here from New York, but it’s where I’m from and in this moment I’m damn proud of it.

When I get to the line about the quarterback and the homecoming queen, I look up. Straight into the rafters. Straight into heaven. And I point.

To Mama.

To Daddy.

To everything that made me,me.

My breath trembles, but my spine stays straight. I turn toward the girls, ready to return to formation, ready to move on. But then I see it.

The jumbotron.

It’s changed. It’s me and Daddy. Little me in pigtails, grinning with gap teeth. Daddy spinning me barefoot in the kitchen, both of us laughing. Him lifting me onto his shoulders at a Razorback game, red foam finger in my tiny hand. My birthday. My dance recital, me in a sparkly tutu, him in a suit and tie, kneeling down so we’re eye level. My graduation party. Us in New York when Zeke flew him in for the Fourth of July.

Every photo a memory. Every one a wound. And I cry. Not loud. Not messy. Just soft, stunned tears. The kind you cry when love wraps around your ribs and squeezes.

Lex and Cade come up behind me like they felt the second my heart cracked open and realized I needed their touch. They don’t say anything. Just wrap around me. One arm each. Holding me like they’ve got me. Like I’m safe. Like I’m home.

I lean back into their warmth. “How?” I whisper.

“I called Jack,” Lex’s voice is low against my ear. His lips brush my temple as he tightens his hold. “Told him you’d need this.”

His fingers find mine, threading through, palm to palm, and he squeezes. Steady. Sure. I close my eyes and breathe them in.

The gym erupts in cheers. And Knox’s voice fills the space, thick with emotion, “Give it up for Bella Blackwood, y’all.”

Lex kisses my forehead,“Breathe, just breathe. You’re home, baby.”