Bella and the Summer Fling

by Amy Sparling

  Her eyes narrow. “You’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not hiding anything.” Dang. My voice was entirely too defensive. Kylie’s eyes widen like she heard it, too.

  “You’re being weird. You’re over there smiling to yourself, and that’s just weird,” she says, turning back to look at her reflection in the mirror. She brushes out her hair with her fingers. “What are you hiding? Is it a boy?”

  “I wish,” I say with a snort. It’s a complete lie, but I think I pull it off convincingly because she just turns the hair dryer back on.

  “You better tell me if you meet a boy.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.” It’s another lie and I feel terrible about it. Kylie is my best friend in the entire world. Why am I lying to her? I guess I just don’t want the drama with Liam to spread any further. We agreed to a fun, no strings attached summer fling. No one needs to know about it. If Kylie knew then she’d warn me about getting my heart broken, or blah, blah, blah. That’s why she can’t know.

  Besides, I’ve already started the lie. I can’t back out now. This thing with Liam will only last a few glorious weeks. And then my life will go back to normal. Kylie will never need to know a thing.

  At the races, Liam is already there, parked in our spot. I’ve noticed that when we park way out here away from the main parking area, his fans tend to stay away. Whenever he wanders over to the concession stand or the bleachers though, then it’s game over and the fans swarm him like he’s made of honey. Now that word has gotten out about Liam being offered a position on Team Loco, his fans are even more excited to meet him. I think everyone knows what I know—that Liam will become the next big thing in professional motocross. Everyone wants to say that they knew him before he got big. I’m the opposite. I prefer to think of him as the Liam I know now. Not the future famous athlete.

  There are only thirteen races tonight, so the night will end early. That sucks. Most people are happy to have the races over before midnight but this just means less time I get to spend with Liam. If it were up to me, the races would be a two day event. I know, I know. I’m pathetic.

  But my whole world feels different around Liam. He sees me. He gets me. He listens when I talk. Unlike the guys I went to high school with, Liam has actual boyfriend potential. Too bad he’s a summer fling.

  Liam unloads my dirt bike from the back of my truck while I get dressed in my race gear. I’m race number nine tonight, and he’s thirteen. The pro class always races last. It’s like the big exciting race of the night so they make people wait to watch it.

  “Morgan’s not here tonight, so you could totally win,” Liam says. The way he walks around with this riding pants slung low on his hips, his shirtless torso catching the last rays of sunlight from the day, really makes me short of breath. He’s gorgeous, and he knows it.

  “She’s not?” I say, glancing around. It’s not like I could see her though—we’re parked pretty far away from everyone else. “What about Maggie?”

  “Haven’t seen her either,” Liam says. “There’s a big race at Three Palms this weekend so I think that’s where most people are tonight. You’ve got a real chance of winning.”

  “Awesome,” I say, as I unpack my helmet and boots from my gear bag. “It’s too bad Kylie can’t come watch me win.”

  “Why can’t she?” he asks.

  “She’s babysitting.”

  “She can’t just bring her brothers?”

  Crap. I don’t want to lie to him, too.

  I sit on the tailgate of my truck and tug on my socks and boots. “Well… I didn’t exactly… invite her,” I say, looking down at my boots as I connect all three straps.

  “Why not?” Liam asks.

  I look at him, hoping the answer will just magically form in his mind. But of course it doesn’t. He’s going to make me say it, in all of its awkwardness.

  “Because she doesn’t know about our…arrangement…” I pull on my other boot, focusing on the task instead of looking at him. “And if she came to the race then I’d have to ignore you and act like we’re just friends, and that would suck, so it’s just better if she’s not here.”

  “You didn’t tell her we’re just dating for the summer?”

  “Dating for the summer.” I snort. “That sounds a lot better than summer fling.”

  “They’re the same thing,” Liam says.

  I shake my head. “But we’re not dating. We don’t go on dates. We just hang out at the track and stay up all night on the phone.”

  “We can go on dates,” he says.

  I give him a look.

  “Let’s do it.” He taps the side of my truck. “Date night. Tomorrow. I’ll pick somewhere romantic.”

  My heart flutters, but instead of showing what I’m feeling inside, I decide to be sarcastic instead. “Are summer flings supposed to be romantic?”

  He shrugs on shoulder. “It’s our summer fling. We get to make the rules.”

  “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

  The way he smiles at me makes the fluttering in my stomach ramp up into overdrive. “Good,” he says, leaning forward and kissing me. “Because summer flings don’t have arguments. They just have fun.”

  I put my hand on his sculpted chest and push him back. “You can’t kiss me,” I say, feeling a blush creep to my cheeks. “You’ll just make me all flustered and then I won’t be able to race.

  “Got it. Save the kissing for intermission,” he says, giving me a wink that makes me melt just as badly as if he had kissed me.

  When my race comes up, I’m feeling less nervous than last time. It might be because I’ve done this before, and because the two fastest women racers in the area aren’t here tonight, so there’s less competition. I ride up to the starting gate and take my place on the line. When the race begins, I’m actually the first person out of the gate, and it’s so exciting to be in front that I’m inspired to keep racing hard. Before I know it, the checkered flag waves and I’ve just had my first victory.

  I see Liam standing near the bleachers. His face is all lit up with excitement and I roll my bike to a stop in front of him and then eagerly pull off my helmet.

  “Oh my God!” I say excitedly, because it’s all my brain can think of right now.

  “You are amazing,” he says, taking my helmet from my hands. “First place. You are my best student.”

  “I am your only student,” I say with a laugh.

  I’m still sitting on my dirt bike, balancing myself with my toes on the ground. He leans forward until his forehead touches mine. “I wish I could kiss you,” he says.

  “Too many witnesses,” I say back.

  He hands me my helmet. “Maybe after I go win my race, we can meet up in my truck for a minute.”

  Meeting up in his truck is code for making out in his truck. I grin as I slide my helmet back on. “Better hope you win that race.”

  I ride back to my truck and set my bike on the stand while Liam gets dressed and ready to go out for his race. One thing all the motocross girlfriends do is ride on the back of their boyfriend’s bikes up to the starting line where they’ll get to watch the race from the best spot on the track. Liam and I can’t do that. It would look too obvious, and raise too many questions. So instead, he rides to the starting line alone and I walk up to the bleachers to watch the race with everyone else.

  While he’s waiting for his race to begin, my phone gets a next text message. It’s from my brother.

  My heart stops.

  The text says: you want to explain this?

  The image is a screenshot from someone’s twitter feed. It has a picture of Liam and me, taken just moments ago when he put his forehead to mine after the race. We’re both smiling. We look happy. In love. We look like we’re way more than just friends.

  Looks like #LiamMosely has himself a Roca Springs girlfriend! the caption says.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  6

  Liam

  I wake up col
d. Freezing cold. I grab the ancient handmade quilt on my small guest room bed and I tug it over myself. It doesn’t work. I’m freezing.

  I listen for the sound of the air conditioner, but it’s not on. I’m just so cold. And… sweaty?

  What’s going on?

  I check the time on my phone and it’s six in the morning. The first rays of sunlight filter in through the curtains. I think it’s Monday, judging by the sound of Phil and my mom talking in the kitchen. They don’t wake up this early on the weekend. Why can’t I remember what I did this weekend?

  I sit up in bed, shivering from the cold. The moment my feet touch the hardwood floor, I recoil. It’s too cold. Everything is too freaking cold.

  My head spins and my stomach hurts, but I manage to slide my bare feet into my shoes. I walk out into the house, knowing I look stupid wearing only boxers and shoes.

  Mom and Phil look up at me. “Why is it so cold in here?” I ask.

  It’s summer. It’s Texas. It’s supposed to be scorching hot outside and slightly less hot inside as the air conditioning works overtime to cool the place down.

  Mom frowns. She gets up and places the back of her hand to my forehead, then just as quickly as she touches me, her hand yanks back. “Liam, you’re burning up!”

  I blink. “I have a fever?”

  “I’ll say,” she says sarcastically. She pulls open a kitchen drawer and grabs a device that she swipes over my forehead. It beeps and she turns the digital screen toward me. “A fever of a hundred and one. Go back to bed. I’ll bring you some Tylenol.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I was sick.”

  Mom chuckles. “It’ll be okay. Just get some rest and lots of fluid. And stay in your bedroom. I don’t want the boys to get sick.”

  As if on cue, Matt walks into the kitchen. “You look gross,” he says to me.

  “Liam is sick,” Mom says. “You boys need to stay away from him so you don’t get sick too.”

  Matt’s bottom lip juts out in sympathy as he looks at me. “Did you throw up?”

  “Not yet,” I say, curling my lip. “I hope I don’t, either.”

  “Hold on!” Matt says. He runs back to his bedroom and then returns, holding a blue stuffed dragon.

  “Don’t get too close!” Mom says, holding out her hand. “I don’t want you boys to get sick.”

  He tosses the dragon to me. “This will make you feel better.”

  I smile. “Thanks, kid.”

  Mom shuttles me back to my room, closing the door behind me to keep out my germs. She brings me water and Tylenol and debates if she should send the boys to their grandmother’s house for the week so they don’t get sick. While she’s doting on me and worrying about the kids, I suddenly remember back when I was a little kid. My mom has always been so caring and loving in times like these. When I lived with Dad, if I got sick he’d hire a babysitter to stay home with me while he worked. The babysitters always did the bare minimum, often forgetting my medicine schedule, and preferring to play on their phones all day.

  I’ve always been left to my own devices when I’m sick. It feels nice to have my mom caring for me now, even though, at eighteen years old, I’m probably too old to be cared for.

  I lay back down in bed and warm up with the three extra blankets Mom gives me. Once the medicine kicks in, I feel slightly better. My head isn’t so fuzzy and I can think. All I’m thinking about is Bella, but that’s not because of my fever. All I ever think about is Bella.

  After Friday night’s race, I didn’t get to see her this weekend because her brother was in town and they were doing family things. I spent the time at home with my brothers, and we went to the mall yesterday, but that’s it. I wonder how I got sick. Probably from eating questionable food samples at the food court. The mall is not exactly my idea of fun, but without Bella, I had to find some way to occupy my time.

  Now her brother has gone back to college, and we’re supposed to meet up at the track today.

  I send her a text so she knows I’m not coming.

  Me: bad news. I woke up sick. Like, feeling like death, 101 fever type sick. I can’t go to the track today

  Bella: Oh no! I hope you feel better soon!

  Me: Thanks. If I stop texting it’s because I passed out.

  She doesn’t reply right away, and I figure it’s for the best if I try to get some rest anyway. It kills me that I don’t get to see her, but I’m feeling so incredibly sick, I don’t think I could do anything today. My head is in agony, my joints are hurting, and my stomach feels both hungry and in pain at the same time.

  I set my phone down and drift off to sleep. When I wake up, my mom is softly calling my name.

  “You awake, sweetie?”

  Sweetie? That’s a new one. I open my eyes and glance toward the door. Mom’s standing there, a soft smile on her lips. “You have company.”

  “Huh?” I sit up in bed and it makes my head spin.

  Mom opens the bedroom door all the way and steps aside. Bella walks into my room.

  My heart races at the sight of her—all silky long brown hair and sparkly lips and gorgeous eyes. The girl is cute as hell on the dirt bike track, but she’s even cuter wearing black leggings and a T-shirt.

  “Hi,” she says, giving me a bright smile. “I brought you some soup.”

  “She brought you soup, isn’t that sweet?” Mom says. With the sight of Bella in my room, I had forgotten that my mom was even in here. I look over at her, and I’m grateful that I look pale and clammy because otherwise I’d be blushing.

  “That is sweet,” I say, hoping my mom leaves soon. This is awkward.

  “Bella, sweetheart, let me know if you need anything,” Mom tells her. “We have drinks in the fridge, so help yourself.” Then she flashes my summer fling girlfriend her warmest, sweetest, Mom Smile before she leaves, closing the door behind her.

  “Your mom is nice,” Bella says. She’s holding a thermal lunch kit in her hands, and a backpack is slung over her shoulders.

  “That was a little nicer than usual,” I say skeptically. “My mom must really like you.”

  Bella smiles and sits on the end of my bed. I reach over and grab a clean shirt from the laundry basket next to my bed and tug it on. I’m still in my boxers underneath all the blankets, and it feels a little awkward, like I’m being too forward with her, even though she can’t see my boxers.

  “You don’t have to get dressed or anything,” Bella says, seeing my hesitation. “You relax. I brought you my grandma’s famous chicken and dumplings.”

  She reaches into the lunch kit and removes a steaming hot plastic bowl with a lid. She hands it to me, along with a spoon.

  I take a bite. “Did you make this?”

  She nods.

  I take another bite. “It’s really good.”

  This makes her grin. “So when did you get sick?” she asks.

  I tell her about how I felt when I woke up this morning and how it came on suddenly and I’m suspecting the mall was the culprit.

  “Ew, yeah,” she says, sliding back on the foot of my bed until her back rests against the wall. “The mall is gross.”

  “Lesson learned,” I say. “Sorry my room is so boring.”

  “No worries,” she says. She grabs her backpack off the floor. “I brought us entertainment.” She takes out her laptop and positions it on the bed so that we can both see it. We watch Netflix while I eat my chicken and dumplings.

  When I’m done, she takes the bowl and spoon and goes to the kitchen to rinse it out. She returns with a fresh bottle of water and two pills in her hand. “Your mom said it’s time for another dose,” she says, handing it to me.

  “You don’t have to do all of this,” I say as I swallow the pills and lay back on my bed. I’ve propped up all my pillows so that I’m resting in an inclined position. I wish Bella could snuggle up next to me, but it’s better that she sits at the foot of the bed so she won’t get sick.

  “I don’t mind,” she says. “That
’s what summer flings do for each other.”

  I smile at her and she blushes, then bashfully turns her attention toward the computer screen.

  I know she’s trying to play it cool, this whole summer fling thing, but it feels like we’re more than that. This girl has no obligation to me at all because she’s not my real girlfriend. Yet she made me soup and came over to hang out with my sick, gross self. She made me food. She brings me water.

  She’s caring for me even though I can’t do anything for her right now. I am suddenly hit with the realization that this is what I’ve missed out on all my life. This is what having a real girlfriend would feel like. It’s not just holding hands and making out and texting each other every day. A relationship is about caring for the other person even when they’re sick and stuck in bed. That’s real. That’s…

  I exhale and look away. This kind of thing isn’t okay to think about, or joke about, or even imagine. I can’t be tossing around that word in my mind.

  She’s my summer fling and that’s all.

  I can’t believe I almost thought the word love.

  7

  Bella

  On Wednesday, Liam kicks me out. He does it in the cutest way, though. I came over in the morning and brought him some more chicken and dumplings. He’s had them every day this week and he loves them so much that I keep making more.

  But as soon as I arrived this morning and gave him his food, Kylie called. I silenced her call and sat down on the foot of Liam’s bed.

  “How you feeling?”

  “About twenty-two percent better,” Liam said. “Who was calling?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s just Kylie. She wants to go to the mall. I told her that’s a good way to get sick,” I said with a laugh.

  Liam dove into the food. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life,” he said.

  My phone rang again. I glanced at the screen to make sure it wasn’t my mom or something, but it was just Kylie.