Above all else, she never complained when Dad was moody or burst into tears, and with ALS, instant emotional changes were the norm, particularly for Bulbar ALS, the rare form that started at the neck and took his voice first.
Tears threatened as I settled behind the leather couch that faced the fireplace, holding in the mountain of emotion that was ready to explode.
Nan pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up on her nose. “Good morning, Skye. Are you ready for your first day of senior year?”
I put on the most genuine smile I could. I didn’t want to show Dad I was unhappy about leaving him all day or how much I hated school in general. High school was a petri dish of drama. The only saving grace for me was hanging with my BFF, Georgia, and our new friend Mia, who’d moved into our sleepy, North Carolina beach town last year.
A laugh broke out in my head. I had to hand it to Mia. She was super comfortable with her body and her sexuality. Me, not so much.
Nan shoved a spoonful of yogurt and oatmeal into Dad’s mouth. “I like the outfit, and your new haircut brings out your pretty features.”
I blushed. “Thanks.” I wasn’t wearing anything special—a pair of jean shorts, a new V-neck that I’d gotten at the Jonas Brothers concert on my birthday last month, and my Vans. I’d also chopped off my long, light-brown hair the day before. I needed a change, something to pick me up and make me feel like I wasn’t being weighed down. Anything to change the sour mood I’d been in for the last year. The change was helping so far. I did feel lighter, and I loved my new style, which I’d found on Instagram.
Even Georgia thought my new look fit me perfectly. “That A-line bob is so skater-girl-esque for you.”
Dad’s blue gaze glistened as he gave me an infectious smile. Then he turned to his computer screen, which was attached to a pole on his wheelchair, and typed with his eyes.
He had the coolest gadgets, compliments of his medical insurance. The infrared bar below the screen tracked his eye movement and allowed him to blink once on a letter, and then it would show up on the screen.
I had a love-hate relationship with technology. In one breath, I was glad he had the tools. His high-powered wheelchair got him from room to room and even outside to enjoy the warm Southern sunshine. I had been ecstatic when he received his computer so he could communicate easily. Before that, he’d had to type with his hands, but he’d struggled with his fingers giving out quickly.
Nan set the spoon down and dipped into the pocket of her scrubs. She had just about every color. That day, she was dressed in a flowered top that hung over dark purple bottoms. She pulled out a hair clip, wound her brown hair into a bun, and secured it while Dad typed.
The sound from the TV over the fireplace floated in the room. We’d eliminated the bulky furniture so Dad could get around in his wheelchair. Aside from the TV and the couch, a table lined the window that peeked out to our porch, with a hand-carved wooden lamp on top Dad had made, and that was it.
The newscaster said something Nan didn’t like—she shook her head. I’d learned to tune her and Dad out when the news was on. They were into politics, which was not my jam.
All I needed was my skateboard, the wind, my earbuds, and music, and I was more than happy.
My therapist had said I should find an outlet to take my mind away from my troubles. After Mom died, Dad had bought me the skateboard, and ever since, the sport had been my salvation, at least in those moments when I was catching air or doing acid drops at the local skate park.
“Skye,” Nan said. “Did you hear your dad?”
I blinked once then twice. “I’m sorry.”
Dad briefly looked at his screen before the computer-generated male voice he’d chosen spoke. “You look beautiful. Nan’s right, the new cut makes your big brown eyes pop. Your mom would love it too.”
I gave him a picture-perfect grin. Otherwise, he might start sobbing if we talked about Mom.
Nan resumed feeding Dad. The spoon clinked against the glass bowl. “Are you nervous about your first day of senior year?”
I had no reason to be. “I’m good.” My goal was to graduate, plain and simple. But I had to do a better job than I had the year before. I’d barely passed my classes because my mind had been on Dad, and I knew I was in for another challenge that year with Dad getting worse. I wasn’t planning on attending college, though. All I had to do was listen, do my homework, and study for tests.
Dad typed again, and after a minute, the computer voice spoke. “I want you to have the best year of school, sweetheart.” Dad’s warm expression was thin at best, and deep within, I could see the sadness oozing out. No doubt he was wishing and praying that he would be around to see me graduate.
Don’t cry, girl. Just don’t cry. You don’t want swollen eyes on your first day. I didn’t want to give Grady Dyson a reason to spread another rumor about me. Still, I wasn’t the perfect student and didn’t toe the line. The only rules I followed were given out by Dad.
I mostly kept to myself, except for Georgia and Mia. We were the three amigos when Mia wasn’t spreading her legs for some guy. She had an appetite for sex, which worked for her. I had yet to go down that road. Georgia hadn’t, either. We weren’t as forward as Mia.
I wanted my first time to be with someone I liked, not someone who would drop me for his next conquest with big breasts and long legs. In my opinion, most guys in high school were on the prowl, searching for an easy time.
My phone pinged as I skirted the couch to give Dad a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you this afternoon.” Without a backward glance, I answered.
“Where are you?” Georgia screamed. “I’ve been waiting for, like, ever for you to get here.”
Crap. I’d forgotten we were meeting at the local coffee hangout near school. “I’m on my way.”
“Drive. Do not take your skateboard,” she ordered in the high-pitched tone she used when she was frustrated.
“I’ll be there in ten.” Grabbing my backpack and skateboard, I waved to Nan and Dad and walked out into the late-August sunshine.
“Skyler Lawson,” she said. “Drive for Pete’s sake.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Then I hung up, put my earbuds in, turned on my music, and hopped on my skateboard.
Again, I didn’t listen well, and for as much as I loved Georgia, I wasn’t in a hurry to get to the coffee shop. We had plenty of time before school started. But I knew my BFF. She wanted to discuss the day and gossip about the year, goals, and boys.
“We are seniors. We are the queens of the school. We need to come up with a plan for how we’re going to make this year fun and exciting. And I’m going to start by having a party.” She’d told me all this while I’d been getting my locks chopped off. “Besides, we need you to have some fun. Last year sucked the big one for you, and it hurt me to see you so sad.”
Georgia had the best intentions for me, and she loved my dad almost as much as she loved hers. In some way, I thought she was masking her own sadness about my dad.
Still, I couldn’t have fun knowing that he was withering away.
2
I cruised into a packed parking lot and gritted my teeth. It seemed the entire school was at the Latte House. I spotted Grady’s souped-up black truck, which reminded me of those vehicles in Transformers. My evil mind wanted to scratch the pristine paint or deflate a tire or two, but I believed in karma, and I wasn’t exactly the malicious type.
However, in all fairness to Grady, he hadn’t been as vocal in our junior year. We’d both ignored each other, even at the parties he’d thrown. Maybe he had a heart and felt bad when he’d heard about Dad. Either way, I wasn’t letting my shields down.
I coasted around a row of cars, and just as I was about to jump off my board, someone shouted, “Watch out!”
The next few seconds were a blur. The only thing I registered was pain in my hip before I fell hard, my right arm taking the brunt of the impact against the scorching pavement. What the hell?
A mob of people ran
over to me as my mind scrambled to figure out what had happened.
“Holy shit!” a girl screamed. “Do you not watch where you’re going?”
It took me a minute to register the girl’s voice as Mia’s.
Georgia came into view, her big green eyes wide as she squatted down. “That schmuck hit you. Are you alright?”
I winced, blowing out a breath as my elbow burned and throbbed. “Schmuck as in Grady?” I vowed to kill the star QB of Blue Oaks High if it were him, even if I was at fault for not looking where I was going.
“I can’t see who it is. The perv drives a gray truck. So no, not asswipe Grady.” Georgia helped me up, her small hands gentle as she brushed off the pebbles from my bleeding elbow.
I glanced around, trying to look at who’d hit me, but the crowd was in the way.
Georgia waved off the people. “Give her some breathing room.”
The kids scattered like rats.
“You’re an ass,” Mia shouted in her deep and scary voice. Anytime she got mad, her temper came out in Oscar-worthy form. According to Mia, it was the Italian in her.
I righted my backpack and collected my skateboard. Then I homed in on Mia, who was wagging her finger at a boy.
Suddenly, my knees went weak, my heart sped up, and sweat beaded on my neck.
Georgia nudged me. “Is that who I think it is?”
Mia shook her dark head of hair as she stomped toward us in her wedge sandals. “The dude is gorgeous, but he’s a jerk.”
He was definitely drool-worthy and hotter than I remembered.
Mia snapped her fingers, zapping Georgia and me out of our trances. “Ladies, focus. Do you know him?” She stuck her hands on her hips, her white jersey top lifting above her black shorts to expose her belly ring.
I bobbed my head. “Yep.”
“Well,” she said. “Who is he?”
He’s the boy next door who makes my palms clammy, my belly tingle, and my brain a pile of mush.
Colton Caldwell stood with his brown eyes wide, frozen in place as though someone had stopped time. He looked like a Greek god, taller, brawnier, and dreamier than I remembered. His wavy brown hair was longer than before and skirted his shoulders. His thighs were thicker, his arms more muscular. Instantly, the butterflies in my stomach took flight, flapping their wings, wild and crazy.
Holy cow!
Georgia was telling Mia all about Colton as he strutted up to me, his swagger screaming hot.
“Skye?” My name rolling off his tongue was pure heaven, and he smelled like sandalwood as he towered over me.
I considered myself tall for a female at five foot seven, but Colton was well over six feet.
I was going to faint.
With his long fingers, he took my right hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. Can I take a look?”
He could do whatever the hell he wanted to me.
My chest rose and fell as I struggled for air. At any moment, I was afraid I might throw myself at him or run my hands through his thick, damp hair.
Breathe, a quiet voice in my head urged.
Mia and Georgia’s voices were muted even though they were tittering and chatting about the statue state I was in.
“You should get this cleaned up,” Colton said in his smooth, delectable Southern accent. “I think I have a first-aid kit in the truck.”
I sighed. I would need more than a first-aid kit to break the magical spell he had on me.
“Are you back for your senior year?” Georgia asked Colton.
“Something like that,” Colton replied, not looking at Georgia but at me.
I was hypnotized by the one guy who could tell me the Earth wasn’t round, and I would believe him.
Locks of his hair fell forward, creating a curtain around his strong, angular jaw, shielding us from everyone near us. Suddenly, I felt as though he and I had been transported to a secluded place, where it was just the two of us.
My heart pitter-pattered at a rapid rate.
“Come with me,” he said.
Georgia grabbed my skateboard, her pink painted lips splitting into a brilliant smile, her eyes alight with mischief. If anyone knew how I felt about Colton, it was my bestie. She and I used to sit on my porch and watch him cut the grass. We were lowly freshmen then, as was Colton, but man, he’d been the hottest guy in school.
Mia said something, but I tuned her out as I followed Colton like a puppy. He led me to the passenger side of his truck.
Most guys in school drove trucks—in the South, souped-up trucks were like Mercedes cars. The girls in school—the rich girls, anyway—drove expensive convertibles. I didn’t keep track. Dad had an old Toyota that was officially mine since he couldn’t drive anymore, but frankly, I preferred to get around on my skateboard.
I finally swallowed the dryness in my throat and attempted to speak. “So…”
Colton opened the glove compartment and took out a first-aid kit. “I stopped at your house earlier. Sorry to hear about your dad.”
And just like that, the lust tethering me to him snapped. A rush of sadness blanketed me.
Georgia bounced up, her blond curls swaying with her jean-clad hips. Like Mia and me, she was wearing shorts, soft blue to be exact. We didn’t switch our summer wardrobe until late December or January, when the weather cooled down. “We should get going.”
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and talk to Colton. He’d never given me the time of day before.
He hit you with his car. He’s feeling guilty.
It was best if I left, though. I didn’t want to talk about Dad, and I didn’t want Colton’s pity.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Skyler?” Colton’s eyes swam with concern—maybe he worried that I would press charges.
The ache was stronger in my shoulder than my hip. “I’m cool.” I was anything but. My emotions were all over the place. “I’m sorry too. I probably whizzed by too fast, and you couldn’t track me.”
“You need to get that elbow looked at,” he said, his gaze melting me into gooey and warm saltwater taffy.
“I’ll get a Band-Aid from the school nurse.”
“Colton, is that you?” Grady Dyson’s gruff voice scraped every nerve along my arms. Then, like a hurricane, he barreled through, pushing poor Georgia out of the way.
Definitely my cue to leave. I couldn’t be responsible for what happened if he so much as glanced at me in front of Colton.
My BFF’s feistiness blossomed as she pushed the beefy guy back. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” She snarled up at him.
He laughed, ignoring her as he all but swatted me out of the way.
I didn’t take shit from anyone, either. “Asswipe.” I kicked him in the calf when I wanted to punch him in the jaw. That would probably have broken the bones in my hand, and I already had an elbow to heal and a shoulder to nurse.
Grady spun around, his ice-blue eyes glaring daggers. “Did you just kick me, Lawson?”
I snorted, puffing out my chest. “Is your dick small?”
His pudgy cheeks burned red as his gaze dropped to my average-sized breasts. “Want to see for yourself?” He grabbed his crotch.
Colton mumbled something I couldn’t make out, and Georgia full-on laughed.
“You’re lucky I didn’t use your balls as my punching bag this time.”
His wince was fleeting, but it was there, nonetheless. “Are you trying to look like a boy, Lawson?” Grady continued to scrutinize me. “Why did you cut your hair?”
I threw him the middle finger as my stomach dropped to my feet. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that Grady didn’t like my new look. Then again, rumors about my hair were far better than him telling boys I was bad in bed.
Mia came running up like she was about to save the day, her ponytail swishing behind her. “Back the fuck off, Grady, or I will blast pics of your small dick around school.”
“You, of all people, know my heat-seeking missile isn’t small,” Grady sho
t back.
Georgia and I snorted at his metaphor—of course Grady had named his third leg. Colton didn’t react at all. Actually, I couldn’t get a read on him, in stark contrast to Grady’s flamboyance.
Petite and fiery, Mia rolled her hazel eyes, brushing off Grady’s bravado. “Well, if you want to get laid again”—she poked him in the chest—“step off.”
Grady squinted at Mia, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Then he turned to Colton, who had just closed the door to his truck. “Welcome home, bro. Are you ready to play football?”
They exchanged a quick manly hug.
It was my turn to roll my eyes. I didn’t remember Colton being friends with Grady. Then again, I couldn’t recall much of my freshman year after Mom’s death.
Colton’s head dipped, his hair falling forward. “For sure.”
Georgia took hold of my arm. “Let’s get out of here. I had Mia put your skateboard in my car.”
Mia flanked me on the other side as we left the guys talking about football and games and the upcoming season.
Whatever.
When we were finally in Georgia’s VW convertible, she asked, “Did you know Colton was home?”
I pushed out a shoulder. “No clue.” His mom came over to see Dad on occasion, but hardly talked about her son, and I had no reason to ask.
“You think he got kicked out of that private school?” Georgia asked, starting the engine.
Mia flipped down the visor in the passenger seat and checked her red lipstick. “Who cares? Have you seen him? His hair. I want to run my fingers through it.”
Sighing, I rested back against the seat, glancing up at the clear blue sky. “Get in line.”
Georgia wheeled out of the lot behind a long line of cars. “It will be an interesting year.”
“Why? Because Colton is back?” I asked, even though I knew what she was thinking.
Georgia eyed me through the rearview mirror. “Um. Yeah. He’s the only guy who stole your heart. So you need to make sure no girl gets her paws on him.” Then she whipped her attention to Mia. “He’s off-limits.”
Crazy For You Page 2