A Young Adult Romance Collection

by Victorine E. Lieske

  “I’m running this race. You can’t tell me not to.” The hard set of his jaw told her he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Fine. Whatever.” It was a free country. He could run if he wanted to. But she didn’t have to talk to him, or even look at him.

  They gathered at the starting line, and the woman with the whistle stood off to the side. “On your mark,” she said. “Get set.” Then she blew the whistle and everyone took off.

  Amanda had learned over the years to pace herself on this run. It covered several miles and part of the way was uphill, so she didn’t want to waste her energy at the beginning. She let the eager runners rush ahead and set herself in a reasonable jog.

  She glanced at Cole. He was beside her, matching her pace. Whatever. He could shadow her. She would just ignore him.

  He pointed to her feet. “Your shoe is untied.”

  “I’m not falling for that one,” she said flatly.

  “No, really. It is.”

  She looked down. Sure enough, her shoelaces were slapping against the pavement. She slowed and stopped, crouching down to tie it. Cole stooped over. “You should get those kind that don’t untie. Did you know a seventeen-year-old invented those? He’s a millionaire now.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Really?”

  “Yep. Saw him on television.”

  “Good for him.” She started jogging again and Cole matched her pace.

  “He’s a real estate guy now.”

  “Hmm.” She counted her steps, trying to ignore Cole.

  He pointed to the first water station. “You thirsty?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. Let’s get some water.” He slowed his pace and grabbed two water bottles, handing her one.

  She hadn’t thought she was thirsty, but once she took a drink, she realized how good it tasted. She drank deeply, draining the water bottle. When she was done, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “That was good.”

  Cole beamed, like he’d invented it. “I knew you needed some.”

  “Don’t get all cocky.” She tossed the empty bottle in the recycle bin and picked up her speed again.

  “So, your sister. What’s her name again?”

  “Stephanie?”

  “Yeah. Is she dating anyone?” Cole was starting to breathe harder, but still he insisted on talking.

  Amanda narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

  “Just curious. Making conversation.”

  “You don’t ask something like that unless you’re interested in dating someone.”

  “Maybe I am.” He shrugged.

  Annoyance rolled off Amanda’s back. What was Cole up to now? He was no more interested in dating Stephanie than she was in dating Eli. “You are not. Stop being weird.”

  “Is she dating anyone?”

  “She’s a senior. You’re a junior. Juniors don’t date seniors.”

  “That’s just ageism.”

  Amanda was about to argue with him, but then let it go. Maybe he was right. It was ageism. But also a stupid conversation because he wasn’t interested in Stephanie at all. “Fine. Date Stephanie. See if I care.”

  “You’d care?” He raised his eyebrows at her. Why was that look sexy on him? Why was she even thinking like that?

  She shook her head. Sweat beaded up on her forehead. “Do you have to talk right now? You’re ruining my concentration.”

  “You have to concentrate to run?”

  She gave him a guttural yell and sprinted ahead of him. He didn’t catch up to her but stayed two feet behind. Good. She wanted the quiet. She should have brought earphones.

  As she jogged, she heard Cole wheezing behind her. Man, he really was out of shape. How long had it been since he ran? She knew he wasn’t into sports, but he sounded like a chain smoker or something.

  She ignored him for a few minutes, trying not to pay too much attention to him. What was his deal? Why did he even come on this run, anyway? It was odd.

  She passed by the park playground. Two little boys climbed up the slide. They looked like twins, both with blond hair and skinny legs. One of them slipped and the other leaned down to pull him up. They were adorable.

  Cole made a panting noise behind her. He sounded like he was having a hard time breathing. She glanced back. He didn’t look so good. His face was pale, and he was really struggling. She slowed. “You okay?”

  He nodded, but his head lulled at a weird angle and he stumbled, almost falling down. “Hey,” Amanda said, grabbing hold of him. “What’s wrong?” She forced him to the side of the road, underneath a tree.

  He bent over and put his hands on his knees, his breathing labored. “I think…” he said, as he gasped for air. “I’m having…”

  “You’re having what? What is it?”

  “An asthma…attack.”

  Crap. What did a person do for an asthma attack? She had no idea. Other runners cast her curious glances as they ran past. Cole’s lips were turning blue. He wasn’t getting enough air. She panicked. “Help me!” she called out. “Someone.”

  “What’s wrong?” A middle-aged guy slowed and came toward them. “Is he hurt?”

  “He thinks it’s an asthma attack. What do I do?”

  “Does he have an inhaler?”

  They both looked at Cole, who shook his head. “Haven’t…needed…one…in…years.”

  The guy waved up ahead. “I’ll go tell them at the next station. They can send a medic over.”

  Cole sat down on the grass and Amanda joined him. “Thank you,” she said as the man jogged off.

  She sat there and listened to Cole struggle to breathe. Dear heavens, what was she going to do? She felt so helpless. And she’d been so mean to him, so guilt surfaced as well. “Don’t worry. They’ll come soon.”

  He nodded. “Thank…you.”

  “You shouldn’t have been talking to me while you were running.” Gah. Why did she say that? Of all the things she could say, that popped out? It sounded like she was blaming him for having an asthma attack. Stupid.

  “Just…making…conversation.”

  “I know. You said that. Maybe not so much conversation right now, okay? I really don’t want you to die while you’re with me. I think it would look bad on my college applications.”

  He cringed as he struggled to breathe.

  “I’m sorry. That’s my defense mechanism. I get sarcastic when I’m scared.” She fanned his face with her hand. “Just take deep breaths.”

  Okay, another stupid thing for her to say. It was obvious he was struggling to take deep breaths. That’s what asthma did. Duh. She rubbed his back. “There, there.”

  Again with the stupid words. Why couldn’t she shut up? Now she sounded like a sixty-year-old.

  A couple of guys ran up to them, medical crosses on their shirts. “Is this the guy with asthma?”

  “Yes.”

  They started asking Cole questions and Amanda stood back to let them help him. As they talked, she heard an ambulance siren in the distance. When it got louder, she realized it was coming for Cole.

  Panic ran through her. Was he in that much trouble, that he had to go to the hospital? Guilt and fear swept over her and she wrung her hands together. This was turning out to be one crappy day.

  Chapter 11

  Cole laid back on the hospital bed, glad the doctors and nurses had finally left him alone. Yes, the attack had been bad, but the albuterol they’d given him had fixed everything. He was fine now. Why did they spend all that time asking him those questions?

  Someone appeared at the door. Amanda wrung her hands together as she stared, wide-eyed, at him. Her face was white. “Cole?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was worried. I came right away, but they wouldn’t let me see you until now.” She took a couple of steps into the room. “Are you okay?”

  He felt fine now. Except it was freezing in the room and they made him put on a hospital gown. Stupid. Why would he need a hospital gow
n on for an asthma attack? All he needed was the medicine. He pulled the sheet up over him. “I’m fine.”

  She looked down at the foot of his bed. “I didn’t know you had asthma.”

  “I had it as a kid. I thought I’d outgrown it. I haven’t had an attack in years.”

  Amanda rubbed her hands together. “I was scared for you.”

  “That was a bad one. Worst I’ve ever had, to be honest.” He hated the feeling that he couldn’t take in enough air. It was like he was trying to breathe under water. Or through a tiny straw. No matter what he did, air just wouldn’t go in.

  “You should have said something when you started having trouble breathing.”

  Yeah, he probably should have. Only, he didn’t want to look like a weakling in front of Amanda. “You’re right,” he finally said.

  “Is that why you don’t like sports?”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like sports. It was just that he couldn’t participate, so they were boring. He hated looking weak, though. “I like sports. I just couldn’t join in when I was a kid.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry I ran ahead of you. That wasn’t nice.”

  She looked bothered by it. That touched him as very sweet. Amanda could be kind of hot-headed at times, but he liked that she really did care about people when it came down to it. “It was no big deal. Anyway, I’m fine now. I’m sure they’ll come in any minute and let me go home.”

  “Your father needs to come get you.” She gave him a sheepish look. “I heard them talking.”

  “Okay. That shouldn’t take long.”

  “They’ve been waiting for him for over an hour,” she said quietly.

  He closed his eyes and leaned back in his hospital bed. Nice one, Dad. What could be more important than picking up your son from the hospital?

  Amanda stood and crossed the room to the white board they had hung on the wall. She picked up the marker and fiddled with the cap. “Does he work a lot?”

  “Yeah. He’s a millionaire. You have to work a lot to make that kind of money.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so bitter. He did love his father. He was just a difficult man to live with. Work was always the priority.

  Amanda gave him a sympathetic look. “What does your mom say about that?”

  A stab of pain pricked his chest. “She’s dead.”

  Amanda’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” He lifted his hand as if to wave away the comment.

  “I know. I meant, I sympathize. I lost a parent, too.” She uncapped the marker and started drawing on the white board.

  “I don’t think that’s for you to draw on.”

  “Who cares? It wipes off.” She drew a flower. Then added a smiley face to it.

  “The hospital people might care.”

  She gave him a dirty look, then capped the marker and placed it on the rack. “Fine.”

  “You’d better wipe it off.” He was only teasing her. He kind of enjoyed the way the vein on her neck stood out when she got annoyed at him.

  She ignored his last comment. “You really feeling fine? Because I should probably go.” She folded her arms over the number sticker on her shirt.

  “Which parent did you lose?” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but he was curious, so he let it stand.

  Amanda walked to the window. “My father.”

  “What happened?” Why was he asking her these questions? He could tell she was uncomfortable by the way she stood there, stiff.

  She pulled the blinds until she could see out the window. After a moment she turned toward him. “A car accident. What about your mom? How did she die?”

  He smoothed out the sheet that covered him. He always hated that question. He didn’t want to talk about it. “Same way.”

  Amanda took a step closer. “I was five. How old were you?”

  “Eight.”

  She looked down at her hands. “The pain never really goes away. They say time heals all wounds, but not this one.”

  He agreed. The hole in his chest had not healed; it just had gotten a bit smaller. “I remember the way she laughed. Isn’t it funny how small things stick in your mind? I can hear it if I concentrate.”

  Amanda walked to him and sat on the edge of his bed. “I don’t remember much about my father. Is that terrible?”

  He put his hand on hers. He understood her guilt. The way you almost blame yourself for the memories that silently slip away and are too far gone to grasp anymore. There were memories of his mother that had faded away like that. “No.”

  “My mom says he was the most handsome man in Rockford.” She gave him a small smile. “I can’t even picture his face anymore. Not in three dimensions. I have photos, but they don’t look like my memories, if that makes sense.”

  He let his thumb graze the side of her hand. “Makes perfect sense.”

  The door opened and his father came into the room. Amanda slipped away to the other side of the room. “Cole. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Another asthma attack, huh? And you didn’t have your inhaler?”

  Cole stared at his father, a look of disbelief on his face. “Dad, I haven’t had an inhaler since sixth grade.”

  His father frowned and took a step back. “Why not?”

  “Because the doctor said I hadn’t had an attack in over three years. Remember?”

  He obviously didn’t. His face registered surprise.

  The doctor came into the room then, and his father stepped by his side. The doctor flipped through his chart. “Looks like your son responded well to the albuterol. I think you can go home now.” He handed a piece of paper to his father. “This prescription will get him an inhaler. He should keep it on him at all times, in case of another attack.”

  His father gave Cole a pointed look. “Yes. Of course.”

  Cole glanced around for Amanda, but she must have left because she was no longer in the room. He silently cursed his father for his poor timing.

  Chapter 12

  Amanda slipped out of the hospital and walked to her car, her hands shaking. She had never seen anyone have an asthma attack before. So scary. He couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to not be able to take in a breath. She would have freaked out, but he was pretty calm about it.

  She didn’t want to get in the way, so she’d left him with his father. It had been weird that he hadn’t come straight to the hospital. What was Cole’s home life like? Sounded like his father was always at work.

  Her mother had always tried to make time for Amanda and her sister. It was difficult being a single mom, but she balanced her work and her children. Amanda never resented the time her mother spent at work because she always made sure they would do things over the weekend.

  She pulled up to her house and cut the engine. Her sister must be home since her car was in the driveway. Amanda entered the house and walked to her bedroom. As she neared her room, she heard her inside, talking.

  Amanda peeked in the crack in the door. Stephanie was on her computer, her headphones on. She was taping another Vlog. Dang, she wanted to go into her room. It wasn’t fair that Stephanie taped in their bedroom.

  She peeked around. Maybe she could sneak in, if she was careful not to make noise. Amanda crept in, making sure she didn’t get caught on camera in the background. Her sister shot her a glare but kept taping.

  “I’m not going to apologize for my last episode. Brandon Travers single-handedly destroyed the movie. And I’m not going to believe that Brandon Travers himself is leaving comments on this blog. That’s absurd. He’s a movie star. He has no time to argue with me on a barely-known Vlog. So, whoever is leaving comments saying you’re Brandon Travers, stop it. Because you’re not.”

  She clicked her mouse and took off her headphones. “Way to interrupt my broadcast,” she said, flinging the nearest thing at Amanda. Luckily, it was a pillow.

  “I was very careful not
to interrupt, thank you.” Amanda flopped down on her bed. “Getting bad feedback from your last Vlog?”

  Stephanie made a face. “All I did was say that Brandon Travers totally destroyed the part of Xander, and people are going nuts. Well, not ‘people’ exactly. Just a few. And one really annoying commenter who is using Brandon’s name. It’s stupid.”

  “How do you know it’s not really Brandon Travers?” Amanda was joking, but it could be. It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.

  “Brandon Travers? Chatting with some two-bit Vlogger? I don’t even have three thousand subscribers yet. How would he even have found my Vlog?”

  Amanda shrugged. “Did you tag him in your video?”

  “Sure, but a billion people probably tag him. He’s famous.”

  “Just sayin’. Maybe you should ask him to prove he’s Brandon Travers.”

  Stephanie huffed. “I’m not going to waste my time.” She stood and grabbed her notebook and pen and headed out the door.

  Amanda settled against her pillow. She wanted to check on Cole. Was that stupid? After yesterday, she thought she’d never speak to him again. But today she felt differently. She wanted to talk. She texted him.

  You okay?

  His response came back fast.

  I’m fine. Only a little hurt. You left without saying goodbye.

  Why would you need to say goodbye? We see each other every day at school.

  I wanted to see if you were free tonight.

  She wrinkled her nose. Oh, no. It was getting weird now. She made a joke out of it.

  Free? What are you doing? Asking me out?

  Would it be terrible if I was?

  She paused. She felt extremely guilty that he’d had an asthma attack while she was trying to run away from him. She hadn’t been very nice to him. But she didn’t want to go on a date with him. The whole movie thing ended in disaster. She didn’t want a repeat.

  Let’s pretend you didn’t just ask me out.

  The dots appeared, then disappeared, like he was typing then erasing.