Magnolia Read Free

says with a cocky grin.
    â€œMaybe you should be.” Tanner is glaring now, his arms folded across his scrawny chest. Tanner is my cousin, on my mom’s side. He goes to West Lafayette High, our big football rival. It’s some kind of weird districting thing, because he went to elementary and middle school with us. He probably could’ve applied for a waiver or something, but he didn’t. Mason claims it’s because Tanner knew he wasn’t good enough to play ball forMagnolia Branch, and who knows? Maybe he’s right. Either way, things have a habit of getting pretty heated whenever he’s around nowadays.
    â€œHey, did y’all catch the Alabama-LSU game this afternoon?” Ben asks, obviously trying to defuse the situation.
    â€œThey’re such morons,” Lucy mutters as the boys’ conversation steers toward more neutral ground.
    Morgan nods. “Mason brought his shotgun, by the way. In the boat with the beer. They’ll probably go off and shoot stuff before the night is over.”
    â€œSo long as Jemma doesn’t go with them.” Lucy directs a stern glare in my direction.
    Because I’m the best shot in all of Magnolia Branch—an indisputable fact. I’ve got trophies to show for it. Not that I would ever shoot a living thing—it’s just targets and skeet for me, thank you very much. But yeah, Mama taught me to sew, Daddy to shoot. That’s the way we roll here in Magnolia Branch.
    â€œNot in this dress and not with boys who’ve been drinking,” I say, stealing a glance over my shoulder at the boys in question.
    At that exact moment, Patrick turns toward me and our gazes collide. He smiles at me—a goofy, mischievous grin.
    Inexplicably, my stomach flutters in response. I swallow hard, my pulse racing.
    Oh, no.
    If there’s one thing I know about Patrick Hughes, it’s that he’s trouble. Big trouble. The Hugheses are old money—and I mean way old money—and Patrick is their little prince. Like Mason, he’s prone to having too good of a time, as evidenced by not one but two DUIs in the past year alone. Lucky for him, his daddy’s a lawyer, a partner at Marsden, Hughes & Fogarty, along with Ryder’s dad.
    Nope, my parents would definitely not approve, despite his wealth and pedigree.
    Who knows? Maybe that’s why I smile back.

ACT I
Scene 2
    S omething seems to have shifted inside me since that shared glance with Patrick down by the creek. It’s not like he hasn’t smiled at me before—he has, plenty of times. But this was somehow different. It was almost like . . . like he was really noticing me for the first time. Which is ridiculous, since we’ve known each other since forever. We even took a film class together at the Y last summer. He’s actually pretty sweet when you get him away from the pack, despite his bad-boy image.
    I’m hyperaware of his presence now, involuntarily searching for him in the crowd as we join the party. Several times I think I catch him watching me, staring at me intently as I sit at one of the round tables eating dinner. And later, when I’m out on the dance floor with Lucy and Morgan.
    So it’s not a total surprise when he intercepts me on my way to the punch table and asks me to dance. The musicians have just begun to play a slow song—something that sounds like an old-fashioned waltz. I say yes, allowing him to take my hand and lead me back out to the center of the dance floor. I feel strangely conspicuous as Patrick wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close, as if everyone is watching us.
    And they are, I realize.
    I clasp my hands around his neck, steadying him as he sways dangerously against me, threatening to topple us both right there in the middle of the dance floor.
    â€œYou look pretty,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
    â€œYeah, I think that’s the beer talking.”
    â€œNo,