Unmaking Hunter Kennedy

by Anne Eliot

  “Stubborn like you, maybe?” He grimaced. “Would you please stop busting on my awesome shirts? I love these things.”

  She frowned at the obvious line of sweat that had formed on his forehead. “I will never understand you.”

  “You shouldn’t try.” He shot her a look while her dad piled the bags into the trunk, filling it to the brim.

  Vere scowled and dragged the cooler around to the side of the car.

  Her dad was doing the ‘man-to-man’ voice. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, son. I hope you come back next weekend for the close-up.” Her dad nodded to Vere. “Don’t be too long. Make sure the place is locked up if Mom and Nan are gone when you get back from your hike.”

  “Okay.” Vere shoved the cooler into the back seat. “I’ll take Dustin around the lake trail. We can head out now.” She pulled her head out of the car and shut the door. “What do you say, BGF?”

  Dustin looked around. “Without supplies? Don’t we need water bottles or sunscreen? A pack full of food? How about some giant guns in case we run into wildlife?” He looked more than a little nervous. His nature phobia thing was so cute.

  Dustin and her dad circled back and picked up the last bags. She pulled her gaze away as he approached again.

  Is it cheating on Curtis because I really like the way Dustin McHugh’s back flexes when he picks up heavy things?

  “What? Something wrong?”

  Her entire face flooded with tingles as he drew nearer.

  “No. It’s just I think after all this awesome progress, I’m having a total relapse. I’m kind of shy to go hiking with you alone.”

  “Back to the snide witty comments! You can do this. You took me to town yesterday alone, and we had a full on argument.”

  She followed behind him as he piled the last bags next to the car. “Yeah, well arguing is easy, and today, I’m hardly hating on you at all.”

  “I can fix that by pissing you off. Would that help?” He laughed.

  She nodded, staring at his chin. Up close, it had this cute blond stubble on it. Total opposite of Curtis’s dark coloring yet equally appealing. And something they’d have to watch. Guys with blond stubble did not have dark hair. Lucky his eyebrows and lashes were freakishly dark. Nature’s way of making his eyes explode off his face so every other guy’s eyes seemed boring, of course.

  She swallowed.

  What were we talking about....

  Her mind had just been wiped clean with guy stubble plus back muscles plus thinking about dark lashes?

  Vere Roth, curing the anxiety jitters. Day three: F-

  And just LOOK at him. Whatever. Let the blush fire full force.

  It can’t be helped. I’m not dead, right?

  She hoped he wouldn’t notice, but how could he not? She was at scalp tingle level already. Ears burning bright.

  She must look like an idiot.

  Dustin tapped his cheeks as though to tease her a little.

  Ugh. He noticed.

  He gave her an odd look then and shook his head and smiled. “Check back in, little gnome girl. What about our hiking supplies? Mr. Roth, do you have any sunscreen on you?”

  Vere’s dad chuckled, not noticing Vere’s blush attack. “You won’t need any if you are only hiking the lake trail. It’s shady, and short.”

  Annoyed with herself and with him for calling her a gnome again, she grabbed Dustin’s arm and tugged him into step next to her. “Bye Dad! Come on. The lake trail starts just over there.”

  “So close?”

  “Had you gone swimming once, city-chicken, you would know this. It is only one mile around the entire lake loop and as flat as a pancake.”

  He had to duck low under the branches. “I hope the entire trail isn’t like this. I’m not a Hobbit like you.”

  “Ha. Ha. It widens at the lake. We’re almost there.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Hey. Are we fighting again?” She stopped and he turned around to face her.

  “I thought you wanted me to make you argue.” He pulled of his cap and ran his hand through his thick hair. “I’m coming across wrong. I feel totally off. Stressed all over again. I think I don’t want to go back to Aunt Nan’s house. It makes the idea of school, this disguise, seem all too real.”

  Vere shot a look at his face. “Or, maybe you don’t want to face the letter?”

  He sighed. “That thing is so like my mom. Dealing with our relationship—or lack thereof—with some disconnected words. I know what to expect in that envelope. I have no intention of reading it. I’m sure it’s lines and lines of her guilt-dipped, sob-story crap. I’m way more afraid of going to your homogenized high school tomorrow than that letter.”

  “It’s your school, too. We won’t abandon you when the bell rings.”

  “I hope not.”

  He was trying to play it off but she knew he must be flipping out. After yesterday’s trip to town, she wouldn’t want to trade places with him.

  They made it through the trees and turned toward a wooden dock. The surface of the small lake glittered jet-smooth in the morning light. It reflected the bright yellow aspen trees, mountains, clouds and tall pines in the distance.

  “Wow. This place is a living postcard.”

  “The flat rock by the dock is my favorite spot to nap.”

  “Where?”

  “Well, it’s kind of behind that huge bush. You can see the edge of it.” Vere pointed to a the tip of a granite boulder, very well hidden way off to the side of the dock. “The dock is where we dive in.”

  “Oh no. Not ‘we’. Not ever.”

  She frowned. “A good deep spot is on the left side. Next time we come up you will swim.”

  “See? Stubborn. Dustin McHugh does not swim.”

  “Focused and determined.” Vere grinned, taunting him. “My Dustin McHugh does swim.”

  He shook his head. “Annoying and single focused.”

  “Charlie always tells me my inability to lose focus is what gets me all freaked out, especially where Curtis Wishford is concerned.”

  “Why?”

  “He says I’ve got Curtis on some kind of pedestal, that he’s just a guy, like any other. I try to see him like that, but I can’t. He’s just too built up for me in my own mind. What do you think?”

  Dustin stared at the sky and thought for a long moment. “I haven’t seen you with this slice of manly perfection, nor have I met him, but your brother might be onto something about the source of your behavior.”

  They’d made it to the dock and Dustin stepped up onto it with a groan. He bent and rubbed his calf. “Do you mind if we just sit and put our feet in the water instead of hike?”

  “I’d love to. Wish I had my suit.” Vere sat and kicked off her shoes and socks. Dustin did the same.

  She put her feet right into the water but Dustin held his just above the surface. He glanced at her and wrinkled his brow.

  “Uh. What are you doing?” she asked, feeling her heart bubble with laughter.

  “If one fish nibbles my toes I’m going to lose all testosterone and scream like a little girl right in front of you. They won’t, will they?”

  “No!” She grinned.

  He held his feet even higher. “And you swear, there are no snapping turtles in here. Not one frog? I’m terrified of all amphibians.”

  Vere laughed openly, leaned forward and pushed down on one of his knees and then the other until his feet were in the water. “Come on, relax. I’ll keep you safe. I’m an expert fish wrangler, you know?”

  “Why do I feel as though I can’t do anything in Colorado without your help?” He looked right into her eyes, and Vere felt the cheeks tingle full force.

  “Uh. Because you can’t?” She shrugged. “I could move to Los Angeles and pretend to be a rock star with way fewer freak outs than you’re having here just pretending to be normal.”

  “So you think. I’d have you in tears at your first sushi bar. I wrangle raw fish and wasabi. You would
n’t last one day as a rock star. I’d like to see you make your way through a nightclub. Handle Ibiza, or ditch crowds in Times Square on New Year’s Eve, for that matter.”

  “Okay. You win. I don’t even know what kind of food Ibiza is.”

  He grinned. “It’s an island. Off the coast of Spain where people party, and party, and then party some more. Our band has gone there to play the past two summers. In Spain, the restaurants don’t open till 9 P.M. And the nightclubs don’t fill up until after midnight. Way past your bedtime.”

  Vere stared at her toes wiggling in the water. “Still makes you seem helpless to me.”

  He’d relaxed and leaned back on his arms. Vere’s eyes riveted to where his shirt had tightened over his upper body.

  Holy mother of ripped-gorgeous.

  Get over the assets. Get over the assets.

  It’s an award-winning six pack. SO WHAT? Get over it.

  He’s just your friend. Your Dustin McHugh.

  Think about Curtis.

  “Water’s warmer than I thought it would be. Not bad,” he said testing his feet. Making small waves.

  When she didn’t answer, he glanced at her and she realized she was still staring—at his abs, at his arms. At his everything.

  Think about Curtis. Curtis...Curtis...

  “Having a hard time again? Come on Vere, it’s just me.”

  She nodded. “Right. I know. You just suddenly look different. Like...more rested and Mom’s food must have done you some good. And you aren’t wearing the disguise. With only the green hat and the plaid shirt, well, you look completely—”

  “Easy there, girl. Save it for Curtis, would you? I’ve heard it before. I know I’m pretty. Remember? You already told me.”

  She glowered, annoyed that it felt again like he could read her mind. “Please. I was going to say you look normal, that’s all.”

  He laughed, the sun catching how the smile lit his eyes brighter. “Normal, huh. Whatever that means.”

  Curtis...Curtis...Curtis...

  She went on, “Of course. And you know that I could care less about your pretty,” she lied, tearing her gaze away from the pulse beating in the base of his neck.

  He grimaced. “You’ve made that clear enough. So tell me, then. If looks are the last thing you notice in a guy, then what is the first?”

  Vere leaned back on her arms as well, pretending to study the water. She let her feet splash out in front of her, forcing her voice to remain steady. “I notice nice. Niceness.”

  “God. Yuck.” He shuddered. “So, this Curtis Wishford guy... is he some kind of extraordinarily sweet, door-opening, snow shoveling, goodie-goodie, nice person?”

  She smiled, thinking of Curtis had made her tummy flutter. “I’m not sure if he’s nice—not on that level. He’s always been nice to me, though. I think he’s nice, and I want him to be nice. Full of niceness. Does that count?”

  Dustin snorted and took the weight off his arms to settle flat onto his back. He crossed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Girls. You’re all the same. You just want to imagine someone is something, without even knowing them first.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Vere felt slighted.

  He shrugged.

  Vere pressed on, “Come on. Give me the inside guy info. You’ve probably had a ton of experience. Did you—do you—hook up—with like, groupies?”

  He turned, and gave her a measuring gaze. “I have. Yes.”

  She felt her eyes grow wide. “Do groupies really do what they say groupies do?”

  “Yeah, and more.”

  “Wow. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

  “Nope.”

  “What! How can that be? You’re positively perfect boyfriend material. I think you’re full of—” she tore her gaze away from his washboard stomach for the third time and contemplated his perfectly sculpted face, “—full of—niceness, among other things.”

  “Watch it. My ego, remember? I prefer the aloof, bad-boy persona I’ve worked so hard to acquire.”

  They laughed together.

  After a long pause he added, “You haven’t ever had a boyfriend. And I think you’re positively perfect girlfriend material, yet, you are single.” He opened his eyes and regarded her solemnly. “Possibly you have a tad too much of the niceness thing, though. Could be why. Scares them away.”

  She didn’t blush, because obviously the guy was lying. “Oh, shut up. As if. I’ve never even been approached for my number. Once, this amazing hot guy asked me for Jenna’s number though. That was fun.”

  “Criminal.” Dustin sighed and looked up at the sky. “Seems impossible. Girl like you should be locked down.”

  Vere’s heart did a strange little flip. “Ugh. Back to you. Tell me why you never had a girlfriend. It’s only fair. You know everything about my dating and social-disaster situations. Why have you never had a real girlfriend?”

  “I’ve never thought about why.”

  “Think now. What was the problem with all those girls? Were they not pretty, or nice, or—what?”

  “The problem wasn’t from the hooking up. It’s never that.” He grinned, wickedly.

  Vere felt her whole face flame up. But even a snowman would have blushed and melted instantly with the look he had in his eyes. She called his bluff. “If you’re trying to make me bolt and change the subject, I’m not going to. Go on. We were on the topic of you hooking up and ‘why’?”

  “Damn. Okay. Hmmm.” He let out a long breath. “No denying that all the attention from girls wasn’t a rush at first. And it was good for my education—to say the least.” He shot her a funny grin and then looked back up at the sky. “A guy likes to know he has it all-together and functioning with enough left over. Plus the talent to please—if you know what I mean.” He finished with a wink.

  Vere giggled at that. “Ha. I’m sure, ” she managed to choke out even though she was dying inside.

  He gave a little self-deprecating laugh as though he thought she were mocking him. “What? I have skills. What of it?”

  “God. You are so full of yourself. Someone really said that to you?”

  “Easy. You asked. And I will have you know, my skills have been complimented more than once.”

  “Uh. Eew?” She giggled all over again and punched his shoulder. “It doesn’t make it less funny!”

  “My step father’s assistant said it most, and that was a couple of years back.”

  “Woah. Really? When you were 15?

  He nodded.

  “Are you trying to shock me or simply scare me?”

  “Both? If we are going to be friends you might as well know I wasn’t kidding about the dark-sided stuff.”

  Vere laughed but had grown utterly uncomfortable. Again, she had the feeling he thought she was about to make fun of him.

  “Whatever. That assistant was on the dark side. Not you!” Shouldn’t she be in jail?”

  “No, she was seventeen at the time. Turned eighteen, broke up with me and took off with my step-father. Mom pays him not to contact me. Not that I want him too. The assistant is long gone.”

  “Jeez...and wow!” She wanted to lighten the mood so she used a lighter voice so he wouldn’t notice how creeped out she was by his story. This, plus all the other stuff he’d told her, was over the top. “How could that assistant girl know so much and be so young?”

  Dustin shot her a wry look, picking up on her joking tone. “No clue. Look at you. Sixteen and you’ve only made out with a pillow. Isn’t that your claim to fame?”

  “Whoa. Okay, okay. I resent that and so does my pillow.”

  He grinned so wide he almost blinded her, then bit his bottom lip like he was holding back a laugh.

  “Anyhow.” She had to look away. His smile had sort of made her chest ache. She suddenly understood that he was an expert at hiding his pain behind a huge mask. “We all know I’m behind. Way behind,” she added, hiding her own pain.

  He glanced over and regarded her
with a solemn expression. As though he knew things were getting way sad and serious, he shot her a too-knowing smirk. “Feel free to let me know if you ever need any best friend or coaching pointers on that subject. Maybe you’re doing some stuff all wrong with your pillow?” He flicked her another challenging glance and a comical brow wiggle. “Coach Dustin is here to serve.”

  “Please! I made that pillow very happy. And you won’t believe the feathers it put in my ear. Still does, and I haven’t made out with it in over a year. You aren’t the only one with mega-skills,” she joked, amazed that she didn’t even feel embarrassed about this conversation!

  Better, she was well past blushing when he’d winked at her!

  The cure is back on.

  Her heart soared with the knowledge that she trusted him not to go there. “Curtis would kick your ass if he heard you.”

  “We’ll see. Call me after he’s asked you out, and I’ll set up a fight date. Kid should be kicking your pillow’s ass, anyhow. Not mine. I’m not a threat. I wish him luck.”

  “Whatever back. I hope your next groupie is ‘NICE’. Which takes the conversation right back to you.” She smiled.

  He groaned. “No. Can’t we stop? Hasn’t this been enough practice yet?”

  “Nope. Tell me a little about what you think about girls. In general terms, I mean. If you’re truly my coach—then keep talking. I need this male insight. You said I could ask you anything.”

  Dustin rolled onto his side and faced her.

  She had the oddest sensation he was staring at her lips.

  “God. Not this topic,” he said.

  “Yes,” she demanded. “Please. I need to know what goes on inside guys’ heads so I can change. Charlie only tells me so much, you know.”

  He shook his head. “Why do you think you need to change? You’re great the way you are and—”

  Her stony, determined, glare must have stopped him because he shook his head again and sighed as he lay back again breaking her gaze.

  “Fine. I’ve got some ideas about you and Curtis—and what’s not working.”

  She gasped. “Really? Go...talk...what?!”

  “You know what Charlie said? About you putting Curtis up on a pedestal, and how you shouldn’t? There’s a lot to that.”