18 Hours To Us

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18 Hours To Us Page 8

by Krista Noorman


  “Are you tired?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’m beat.”

  “You can use the sleeping bag. I’ll just sleep on top.”

  “I’m kind of warm right now.” She lay back on top of the sleeping bag and closed her eyes.

  “I’ll set the alarm on my phone so I can check on you in a couple hours.”

  “Good idea.” She said it knowing she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep during the storm anyway.

  She heard the rustling of Colton moving around and peeked to see what he was doing just as his jeans dropped to the ground, leaving him in only green plaid boxer shorts. She snapped her eyelids shut so he wouldn’t catch her watching him. The air mattress lifted as he sat down on the edge then lay back next to her. The tent went dark as he clicked off the flashlight.

  The pitter patter of raindrops hitting the top of the tent began, followed by the sounds of a steadier rain as the storm neared.

  “What if we get struck by lightning?” Her eyes searched for him but found only darkness.

  “We won’t get struck by lightning.”

  “But we’re in a tiny tent on top of a mountain. We’re just asking for it.” She couldn’t stop herself from shaking again. Lightning flashed, and she saw his face for a brief moment.

  “Come here.” His hand was suddenly on her hip, tugging her closer.

  And then she was where she had dreamed of being so many times—in Colton’s arms. His right arm was draped over her hip and around her back.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered.

  Lightning struck close by, thunder boomed, and Natalie screamed.

  Colton started to laugh.

  “Don't laugh,” she whimpered.

  “I’m sorry.” He did it again.

  “Stop.” She smacked his chest.

  But he couldn't stop, which made her laugh too.

  “You’re adorable.” He began to run his hand up and down her back comfortingly.

  A chill ran through her, but she didn’t have time to think about her reaction to him, because lightning lit up the tent followed by a loud crack.

  She stifled another scream. “Talk to me,” she blurted.

  “About what?” Colton asked.

  “I don’t care. Anything. Distract me,” Natalie pleaded.

  “I can think of lots of ways to distract you,” he chuckled.

  She smacked his chest again, harder this time.

  “Ow!”

  The rain began pouring down hard outside. Tears burned in her eyes, threatening to fall. A sudden loud boom made her jump. She could almost feel the sting of her cheek where her mother had slapped her once just for breaking a glass. With each flash, her mind’s eye saw the devastation on her father’s face when he found Mom lying on the floor of the kitchen with an empty pill bottle in her hand. Every crack of thunder replayed the slam of the door the night Mom walked out on them.

  Lightning flashed again, revealing the look on her face.

  “You’re really afraid, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “I told you, I can’t handle storms.”

  He rubbed her back some more. “I sing.”

  “What?”

  “My talent. I can sing.”

  “You can?” Her voice trembled. “I’ve never heard you sing in one talent show at school.”

  “That’s because school talent shows are lame.”

  “No, they’re not. There’s some real talent in our school. Those guys who played original songs their band wrote are really good. Somebody said they signed with an agent.”

  “That’s true,” he replied. “I’ve never sung in public before or anything, mostly in the shower.”

  “What songs? And please don’t say rap.”

  He laughed. “Of course, rap.” He started reciting lyrics from one of the songs that had played earlier that day.

  “No! That’s not singing.” She covered her ears with her hands.

  “What? Yes, it is.”

  “Tell me you sing something with an actual melody.”

  Thunder rumbled again, and he tightened his arm around her. “Elvis.”

  “Elvis Presley?”

  “My grandpa loved Elvis. He died when I was ten, and I got all his records and his record player.”

  “Very vintage.”

  “Very.”

  “Your dad’s dad or your mom’s dad?” she asked.

  “Mom’s. He was the best. I remember fishing with him off this little dock behind his house. Even though I caught the tiniest fish, he always made such a huge deal of it, like it was some record-size bass or something.”

  The tent lit up as the sky flashed, and she saw his sentimental smile. Every time he revealed something new about himself, she felt closer to him. And this memory of his grandpa was absolutely endearing.

  “What’s your favorite Elvis song?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat and began to sing the first few lines of “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.” His voice was low and smooth, soothing her worries, calming her trembles away.

  “Mmmm. I love that song.” She closed her eyes and listened.

  As he finished the chorus, she peeked at him from under heavy eyelids. “You really can sing,” she mumbled, half asleep.

  He continued on, but Natalie didn’t hear the end of the song or any more of the storm. Colton’s voice had lulled her to sleep.

  A crack of thunder woke Natalie from a dead sleep. She jumped, and Colton did too. His arm was still wrapped around her, only he had moved closer so they were snuggled up against each other.

  He rolled over and tapped the home button on his phone, illuminating the tent temporarily.

  “What time is it?” Natalie asked.

  “Two-thirty. You OK?”

  She nodded, but something felt off. Something felt … wet. She reached back and touched the mattress behind her. “Oh no!” She sat up as the tent faded to dark again.

  “What?” He tapped his phone to give them more light.

  “The tent leaked.” Natalie crawled to the end of the air mattress to escape the wet spot.

  Colton sat up and turned on the flashlight. He leaned over to feel the sleeping bag and directed the light on the mattress then upward to find the leak. The wind whipped the tent walls and rain was blowing under the the rain fly and dripping in through the open window.

  “Someone forgot to close the windows,” he teased.

  She laid a hand over her heart. “This is my fault?”

  “I mean, if you had closed them, your side of the bed would be dry. I guess we’ll both have to sleep on my side so you won’t get dripped on.” He winked at her.

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Colton chuckled as he stood and zipped both of the windows shut, pointing the flashlight at the puddle on the opposite side of the tent floor. He rifled around in his bag and tossed a towel at Natalie, covering her head.

  She peeked out from beneath it and watched as he moved their bags away from the puddle. “Are the bags wet?”

  “Mine’s a little damp, but it’ll dry. Could you stand up for a second?”

  She did as he asked, crossing her arms over her chest at a sudden chill. He slid the entire mattress toward the middle of the tent, away from the leaky window. Taking the towel from Natalie, he wiped at the damp edge of the sleeping bag before placing it over the wet spot and lying down on that side of the mattress. “You can have the dry side.”

  “Oh, thanks.” She lay down and faced away from him as the flashlight turned off.

  “Can you hand me my phone?”

  She reached for his phone and handed it over to him. The tent lit up again as he turned it on.

  “I’m glad the storm woke you,” he said.

  “Why?” She looked back at him.

  “I’m supposed to be checking to make sure you don’t go into a coma from your concussion. My alarm didn’t go off for some reason.”

  “Oh.”

  Colton leaned over her and
held his phone close to her face, staring deep into her eyes.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m checking to see if your pupils are dilated.”

  Natalie pushed against his chest.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  Natalie giggled at that.

  “I’m serious.”

  “My name’s Deb,” she replied.

  Confusion crossed his face.

  “Are you my friend Davey?” She grinned.

  Colton chuckled and clicked his phone off. “You’re obviously not in a coma.”

  “Maybe you are, and this is all a dream,” she teased.

  His hand came to rest on her hip once more. “Not a bad dream.”

  She smiled to herself before removing his hand.

  “Why are you so afraid of storms?” he asked.

  Natalie was silent for several beats. “Just bad memories.”

  “Like what?”

  “Stuff to do with my mom.”

  He laid his hand on her arm.

  “Bad stuff always seems to happen during storms. When the weather gets severe like this, all those moments surface, and it takes me back to things I would rather not remember.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” The cool air seeping into the tent made her shiver.

  “Are you cold?”

  She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “The temperature must’ve dropped.”

  “Yeah, it’s a little chilly. You can have the sleeping bag, Natalie.”

  She unzipped the edge of the sleeping bag and snuggled down deep. The warmth from their bodies lying on top had heated the inside, making it nice and cozy.

  Colton shifted atop the sleeping bag, and she felt bad, leaving him in the cold.

  “We can share it,” she told him.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Was she, really? The idea of him next to her in the sleeping bag released the butterflies again. “But no funny business.”

  He chuckled as he climbed in next to her, then groaned. “It’s a little wet over here.”

  “You’re only saying that to get on my side.”

  He moved closer and rolled to face her, still respecting her space.

  But the next flash of lightning and clap of thunder had Natalie scooting toward him.

  “Hey, tell me what the poem said.”

  “Huh?”

  “The poem I wrote you when we were kids,” he replied.

  “I don’t remember,” she mumbled.

  “I know you do. Come on. Tell me.”

  Thunder boomed, and she forced her brain to remember the lines of the poem. “Fine. It said ‘There once was a girl named Natalie. She climbed up the jungle gym with me. She likes candy bars and stickers. Her hair is brown like Snickers. One day, she’s going to marry me.’”

  Colton rolled onto his back and cracked up laughing.

  “See, I told you it was good for a six-year old.” A sudden gust of wind and a loud crack that might have been a branch breaking startled her.

  “I was a real charmer, wasn’t I?” He brought his arm around her again and rubbed her back comfortingly as he had before. But this time, his fingers met the skin of her lower back, where her shirt had hitched up, and he froze.

  “You still are,” she replied softly.

  “Maybe you can make some good memories to replace the bad.” The way he whispered into her ear felt very intimate.

  Natalie didn’t move at first and neither did Colton.

  But with the next rumble of thunder, she moved an inch closer and wrapped her arm around him, resting her hand on his lower back.

  Colton began to softly caress her skin with his thumb, still not making any sudden moves.

  A struggle took place in Natalie’s mind between her longing to trace her fingers over Colton’s back and her fear of what might happen if she did. Against her better judgment, she moved her hand and he seemed to take that as an invitation. His hand slid under the edge of her shirt, traveling over the bare skin of her back, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his feathery touch.

  She held her breath as unfamiliar sensations flowed over her body. His lips touched her forehead then, his breathing shallow. Her breaths were in sync with his, and he moved closer still.

  Warning bells began to sound in her brain. She had always been adamant that she would not sleep with a guy before marriage, and the thought of cheating or being the one someone cheated with was appalling to her. Especially after her mom’s history. But in this moment, with Colton’s lips so close to touching hers, she was tempted to give in. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest that she thought it might burst.

  Lightning illuminated the tent. Their eyes met, then darkness enclosed them again. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her face as the wind whistled outside.

  She had to stop this before it went too far, before she couldn’t anymore. But the blood pumping rapidly through her veins was making it impossible for her to find her words.

  God, please help me.

  Another flash and she saw the intensity in his eyes just before his eyelids slipped shut. Darkness again as his lips brushed against hers, soft as a whisper.

  “Wait.” Natalie said as the tent lit up again, flickering like a strobe light.

  He leaned away. “What is it?”

  “You have a girlfriend.” The words popped out of her mouth, and she silently thanked God for helping her to speak.

  He said nothing for a few beats, then rolled onto his back and let out a breath. “I know.”

  “A girlfriend who will make my life a living hell if she finds out about this."

  “I know.” The flashlight clicked on, and he rolled on his side to face her. His expression was pensive, and he remained quiet at first, seemingly deep in thought. “Six months ago, I never would’ve thought twice about this. But now …” He reached over and moved a hair that had fallen over her eye. “I’ve never been so afraid to mess things up with someone before. I’ve never cared so much about doing the right thing. Until you.”

  Natalie’s brow furrowed. “Are these lines? Is this what you say to all the other girls?”

  He frowned, looking insulted. “I don’t usually talk much to girls I … camp with.”

  “Oh my gosh.” Repulsed, Natalie pushed him away and jumped up to standing, staring down at the sleeping bag draped open to reveal Colton’s bare chest. “I don’t even want to know how many girls you’ve hooked up with in there.” She shivered at the thought.

  Colton sat up and looked at her. “I’m not gonna lie. There have been a few.”

  “Ewww. Disgusting. I cannot stay here with you. I can’t believe I climbed in there in the first place.” Natalie was just as disgusted with herself for almost letting something happen with him.

  “It’s not about hooking up right now. It’s different with you.”

  “This was such a huge mistake.” She turned her back to him.

  “Natalie, you aren’t listening to me.”

  “I heard you.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Did you?”

  She nodded. “You’re saying you care.”

  “Yes.”

  “About me.”

  “Yeah.” He stood up then and stepped closer, turning her around to look at him. “You’re sweet and good and … boring, but in an interesting, I-want-to-figure-you-out kind of way.”

  She looked away, but he touched her chin to get her to look at him again.

  “I like you, Natalie.”

  Was she hearing things? Did he actually admit to liking her? A tingling sensation remained even after his fingertips left her chin.

  “There’s something about you that makes me want to tell you everything about myself, about my life, and I want to know everything there is to know about you too.”

  She stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked.

  “Is
this a prank? Something you and Lexi cooked up for me?”

  She might as well have slapped him across the face. “Are you serious right now?”

  She wasn’t serious. Not really. She believed he was being genuine with her, but it was all she could think to say to steer the conversation from its current course, to keep him at arm’s length, especially after what almost happened between them.

  “I’m standing here telling you how much I care about you. I’ve told you things I’ve never told another soul. And still you think I could possibly be messing with you?” Exasperated, he climbed back into the sleeping bag and rolled so his back was facing her.

  “I’m sorry, but none of this trip has been normal, especially the fact that I’m taking it with you.”

  He peeked back over his shoulder at her as she sat down on the tent floor next to the mattress.

  “Honesty time, OK?”

  He rolled to face her again and propped his head up on his arm.

  “I’ve had a crush on you since that day in elementary school.”

  The right corner of his mouth curved up a little.

  “You were so cute and so sweet, and even as the years went by and we all grew up and changed, I always held this special place in my heart for you. Even when I saw you acting all rude and cocky and dating every horrible, self-involved, loose girl in the school, part of me hoped I was wrong about you, that deep down you were still that sweet kid who was my first boyfriend.”

  He cocked his head. “I’m still that kid,” he assured her.

  “I mean, I’ve seen glimpses of him today, but am I really enough to bring you back from all the places you’ve been, all the partying and drinking, all your trophies—sports and otherwise?” She cleared her throat. “I mean … I’m boring. You said so yourself.”

  “I like your brand of boring.” His adorable smile brought out the dimple in his right cheek.

  “We’re just very different people. You’re popular. I’m so not. You’ve got money, and my family barely scrapes by. You’re … experienced.” She pointed to herself. “Me, not so much.”

  He smirked.

  “And I don’t plan to be. So if that’s what you’re thinking, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

  “It’s not,” he replied.

  She wanted to believe him.

 

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