Poppy’s cheeks ached from forcing a smile—a big, cheesy, I’m-not-crying-inside smile—all evening. She wanted to go home, get in her nightgown, eat a whole bowl of Rose’s honey lavender ice cream, and daydream about what her life would have been like if Luke Bontrager hadn’t saved her hand from that car window. If Luke had minded his own business, her heart wouldn’t feel like a tiny, black pebble. She hadn’t wanted to go to the park at all. Going to a gathering when Luke Bontrager might be there had sounded as fun as getting a tetanus shot. But there was nothing else she could do. If she wanted to show him that his words hadn’t felt like shards of broken glass against her skin, she had no choice but to go. A strong girl would smile and laugh and pretend Luke’s dark look didn’t pierce her right through the heart. Which it didn’t. Luke Bontrager could go jump in the ditch for all she cared. She was glad she had joined the others at the park, if for no other reason than to show Luke that she wouldn’t be bullied.
