Him

by Carey Heywood

  HIM

  A NOVEL

  by

  Carey Heywood

  ~*~

  Him

  Edited by Yesenia Vargas

  Cover design by Okay Creations

  ISBN 978-0-9887713-6-9

  Copyright 2013 by Carey Heywood

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  HIM is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To Seth. I met you seven years before our first date. You will always be my HIM.

  HIM

  Chapter 1

  Present

  After closing the refrigerator door, I pause, juice in hand, to look at my brother's wedding invitation. It's held up by a local pizza place's magnet and I've looked at it at least a hundred times. I should probably start packing. I'm normally so good at it, always prepared in advance for whatever trip I'm taking. This time is different, I'm headed home. When I got the save the date card a year ago, I called my brother, the groom. I tried to sell Brian on the idea of a destination wedding. Someplace tropic, Aruba or maybe Cabo. No, his fiancée, Christine was set on Decatur, our hometown. Something about dreaming about getting married in the little white church there and having all of her friends and family with her. Ugh.

  There is no getting out of going, kind of a requirement of being a sibling. Plus, Christine, the bride, wants me to be a bridesmaid. At least the bridesmaid dresses are pretty, I picture the pale blue dress hanging in my closet. I take a sip of my drink as I walk into the living room. Our condo has an amazing view of the Rockies from the picture window in the living room. Sawyer has her mat laid out in a patch of sunlight in our living room and is going through a series of yoga poses. I sit on the sofa, waiting for her to finish.

  After ending in a final child's pose, she turns to me, her gray blue eyes bright. She rolls up her mat before joining me on the sofa, tucking her legs under her as she sits.

  "Dude, have you packed yet?"

  "Dude?" I cock my head at her. "You never say dude."

  She blushes. Sawyer also never blushes.

  I pick up a pillow and throw it at her and laugh. "But I know somebody who does!"

  "Don't change the subject." She avoids what I've said altogether. "Packed yet?"

  I flop back onto the arm of the sofa. "No, I haven't." I groan. "I don’t want to go."

  I know I'm whining, but I really don’t want to go. She stands, holding out her hand to help me off of the sofa, which is laughable considering how much smaller she is than me. "Stop being a wuss." I let her pull me up. "I'll help you pack."

  "Fine," I grumble and follow her, my shoulders slumped the whole way to my room.

  I tried packing last night and had gotten only as far as pulling down my shiny red rolling suitcase. It still stands, proudly, next to my closet. I lift it and lay it open across my bed. Sawyer buzzes around me, throwing stuff into it.

  "I don't think I'll need so many dresses," I argue.

  "You never know. Maybe you'll hook up with a groomsman."

  I pick up one of the dresses she's flung in my suitcase and neatly refold it. "Unlikely. All but one are married or already have girlfriends."

  She smirks, lifting a brow.

  "What?" I shrug my shoulders. "I asked Brian last time I talked to him. Even asked him the name of the only single guy, but he had to hang up before he could tell me."

  "Why? Were you planning on practicing doodling his name on your binder?"

  I roll my eyes. "I don’t do that."

  "Right, Sarah. Your last real relationship was in high school. Can you repeat after me? High school." She uses air quotes.

  "I've dated," I argue weakly.

  She gives me a look like, really?

  But I'm gaining speed. "Yeah, remember that guy? What was his name? The one who had the three legged dog."

  She nods. "That was a really cute dog. If I remember correctly, you spent more time with Rover than Jeremy. And why do I remember the name of the guy you dated and you don't?"

  I look away. "Did not."

  She keeps going. "So why did you stop seeing Jeremy?"

  I lie. "I forget."

  Sawyer's always been able to tell when I lie. "Liar! You stopped seeing him because he flossed! Who does that? Who thinks flossing is a con?" she says in disbelief.

  "You know that's not why. It’s not that he flossed. I like that he flossed. It's that he had to tell me every time he was going to go floss. Why? Why did he do that? Was he trying to prove something? Hey, look at me." I wave my hands in the air. "I'm going to go floss now!"

  Sawyer throws a pair of socks at my head. "He was a dentist. You are a crazy person."

  I turn to pick up the socks from the floor and put them in the inside pocket of my suitcase "He just wasn't for me." I grin, looking up. "I would've kept his dog, though. His name was Tank by the way."

  Sawyer brings my bridesmaid dress out of the closet and sets it on top of everything else, folding it in the middle. "I'm worried about you."

  I freeze. "Why?"

  She shakes her head. "I know you, and I want you to know I am so proud of everything you have accomplished. But."

  I raise a brow. "But?"

  She takes a deep breath. "But you are using your job as a reason to not cultivate human relationships."

  "What? Human relationships? What are you, a robot?"

  "Don't argue. Besides, I predate your company. I'm grandfathered or whatever. And, besides me, who do you talk to or hang out with?"

  I spin my ring. "I met Jared for lunch, like…"

  She laughs. "Sarah, you had lunch with Jared six months ago. We're going out tonight."

  "I can't." I groan. "I have to fly out early. I have that lumber yard account to set up before I go home."

  "You aren't flying straight home?"

  "No." I shrug. "It’s work."

  "You need to hire someone else to cut your workload down. This is too much for one person, babe."

  "I'm fine. I can do it."

  She cuts me off. "Yeah, ‘cause then you couldn't hide behind your job anymore. We're still going out tonight. I'll have you home early."

  "Why is this such a big deal?"

  "Sarah, when was the last time you had sex?"

  "I'm not sleeping with anyone tonight."

  "Geez, dude, you need to loosen up."

  "Ah ha! You just said dude again."

  She waves me off, walking back into my closet and pulling out a green dress. "Go shower and wear this." She sets it on my bed before walking out of my room.

  I'm drying my hair when she comes back to check on my progress. Taking my brush from me, she starts playing with my hair. Hair has always been her thing. When I first met her, she had multiple pastel-shaded streaks. I think she's always wished I would let her dye my hair. I, on the other hand, am happy with my brown hair. She braids a chunk of it and pins it like a headband across the top of my head. We head to her car, a Hummer. It always makes me laugh because Sawyer is tiny and her car is huge.

  We head to a nearby restaurant bar. There
is a live band playing. As we're seated, I notice the bassist nod in Sawyer's direction. "Know him?"

  "Oh, that's James. He's cool. He's the one who lives part-time in France. We went out a couple times."

  Our server comes by to take our drink orders. Once he's gone, she looks up from her menu. "What are you going to get?"

  I shrug. "Clam cakes, or Chicken Kiev. Haven’t decided. You?"

  "The Portobello Mushroom Pasta looks good. Hey, I forgot to ask where's this lumber yard you're setting up?"

  "Just outside Newark. I wonder if anyone we know still lives out there. Helen moved to San Diego."

  "Jake's still out there. Want his number? I'm sure he'd meet up for lunch or dinner."

  I grin. She’s the only person I've ever met who is on good terms with all of her exes. "I'm not going to be there long enough to hang out. Gotta get in, get out, and get to Atlanta."

  We order and hang out until our food arrives. The band takes a break, and James and another guy come over to sit with us. As close as James is sitting to Sawyer, I wonder if he hopes they'll hang out later tonight as well. His band mate, the drummer, is named Trent and seems nice enough. They get up once our food comes to go play some more.

  "So what'd you think of Trent?"

  I hold up my hand as I finish my bite. "He seemed nice."

  Her eyes widen. "You don't think he's hot?"

  I glance back over to the stage. "I guess. He sure wears a lot of black."

  She laughs at me. "Sweetheart, you could find an issue with any guy. Is anyone ever going to be good enough for you?"

  I spin my ring, trying not to think about the blue eyes that owned me. "Someday," I hedge. "Who knows."

  We have another drink and stay to listen to the band for another hour before heading home. They are still on stage as we leave, and Sawyer catches James' eye as we are walking out and waving bye. I go right to bed when we get home, wondering if Sawyer will have company once James is done playing. She is something. Part of me wishes I could live like she does, so free. Everyone who meets her loves her. God, when Brian came out to visit once, I thought he was going to ask her out. That would have been just weird. He still asks how she’s doing every time we talk. She has that effect on people. I, on the other hand, do not. There are no ex-boyfriends trying to track me down. I fall asleep trying to think of anything other than my first love.

  Chapter 2

  Past

  It's our last day of school before spring break. I've already stopped by my locker and am sitting on the floor next to Will as he rummages through his locker for something. Once he shuts the door, I stand.

  Click.

  "Will, come on." I cover my face.

  "Just one more picture," he pleads.

  I protest but only halfheartedly. I can't say no to him, especially when he pouts. I can see his lips through the mesh of my fingers, his full, perfect lips. What I would give to feel them on mine. He has a girlfriend, I remind myself, before dropping my hands. I look right at him, and at the last second, cross my eyes.

  "Dork." He still takes a picture.

  "What? Is there something wrong with my face?" I uncross my eyes and blink a few times.

  He snaps another picture and sticks his tongue out at me as he puts his camera in its case and the case into his backpack.

  "So, will you come?" Will asks, giving me that lopsided grin I can't say no to.

  "Of course." I fake as much enthusiasm as possible.

  Crap. He’s chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. He always does that when he's thinking. Maybe he's onto me.

  I exhale. "I just don’t think Jessica likes me." I look at my feet.

  "She doesn't," he admits.

  My mouth drops open, and my eyes flick to his. "Then why do you want me to go?"

  He shrugs, his typical non-answer. He closes his locker and picks up his bookbag as we make our way to the side exit.

  I knew it. "Why doesn’t she like me?"

  He's shaking his head. "Don’t worry about her. She’s just jealous of you."

  I stop walking, stunned. "Why?"

  He rolls his eyes, and I punch him in the arm.

  "You're so violent," he grins, rubbing the spot I punched.

  I raise my brows. He still hasn’t answered my question.

  He groans, tugging on my arm so I start walking again. "Fine, whatever. She thinks I'd rather hang out with you."

  I wrinkle my nose at him. We both know he would. I have no idea why he's even dating her. She's such a bitch. Will's looking everywhere but at me. Sometimes he seriously sucks at just spitting something out.

  "So." I stop again. My hands are on my hips. "You freely admit your girlfriend doesn’t like me, but you still want me to go to the movies with the two of you and be a third wheel?"

  He nods like he's thrilled I've finally figured out one plus one equals two.

  "William Ethan Price." I pause between each part of his name. He totally hates it when I say his whole name. "You are like need-to-go-to-a-mental-institution crazy if you think I'm going to go see a movie with you two."

  He turns to me, grabbing my hand, and holds it in both of his. "Please Sarah. Come on. You know you want to see this movie."

  I can't lie. I am completely affected by his touch. I am almost tingling all over just because he's holding my hand. Get it together, you pathetic loser, I tell myself, but he's won. I just can't say no to him. No matter how much it breaks my heart to see him with her, I'd do anything for him. Sometimes you just can't help it when you're in love with your best friend, and he has no idea.

  "You're paying, and I want an Icee," I grumble.

  He grins and gives the back of my hand an exaggerated kiss. My eyes widen as I feel his perfect lips on my skin. I think I must have forgotten how to breathe because suddenly I'm somehow choking on air. Will drops my hand and thumps me on the back. How romantic. Not that I should be even wasting my time thinking about romance. He’s not mine.

  "I still don’t get why you want me to go." I say, once I'm able to speak again.

  "Honestly, I wish Jessica wasn’t going," he mumbles.

  I smack his arm again. "You're the one who's dating her," I exclaim.

  "I'm thinking about breaking up with her."

  Do it! Do it! My brain shrieks.

  "So do you think I should?" He looks at me, chewing the corner of his mouth.

  Yes! "Look, Will. I feel really weird giving you advice on something like this. I mean, come on. I have like zero dating experience."

  "I think I like someone else."

  No! "Who?" I can't look at him. This conversation is like a roller coaster ride. First, he tells me he's thinking about breaking up with Jessica, and now, he might like someone else. I don’t know if my heart can handle watching him date someone new all over again.

  He hasn’t answered. "Who is she?" I keep my eyes forward and nudge his toe.

  "I don’t want to say. I don’t think she likes me like that."

  My eyes snap to his. How is that even possible? He is only the sweetest, most wonderful, not to mention gorgeous, guy in our school. Scratch that. State. "Then she doesn’t deserve you."

  He's chewing on the side of his bottom lip again. He pauses and shrugs before putting me in a headlock and walking like that with me down the hall. In vain I try to push off his stomach, but he just laughs and keeps walking. He is so annoying sometimes. Turning my face towards his bicep, I lick it. He releases me with a stunned look on his face. I stretch my neck and stick my tongue out at him.

  "I can't believe you just licked my arm," he stammers.

  "You deserved it," I taunt.

  "Oh, I'm so going to get you," he says right before he rushes me.

  I scream, running out the door and into the school parking lot. Will is hot on my heels. I just barely make it to his car and drop my backpack on top of the trunk. His pace has slowed, and he lazily drops his on the hood. He has a very devious glint in his eyes. I'm in trouble, big time trouble
. He starts towards the back of the car.

  I head towards the front of the car, saying, "Please don't, please don't." I have no idea what he has planned, and I don’t want to find out.

  He's rubbing his hands together and doing his best impression of an evil laugh. It's making me laugh, and I kind of have to pee. This is bad.

  "Promise you won't tickle me," I beg.

  "No promises, Miller Lite." He moves closer.

  I scream again and am at the back of his Jetta again.

  "Gotta face the music, Sarah. There’s no way you're getting out of this."

  He lunges for me, but I evade him by inches, just feeling the movement of air from his missed grasp on the back of my legs. I'm panting by the time I reach the front of the car. I look back at him and freeze. He's not there. Shit! Where the hell did he go? I crouch down to look under the car and don’t hear him until it's too late, and I'm airborne. Before I know it, I’m hanging over his shoulder, and he is racing to the field behind the parking lot. He flops me down on my back and sits on me straddle-style.

  "Oh my God," I yell. "You’re crushing me."

  He just grins and waggles his fingers at me.

  I try to buck him off of me, but he just laughs. "Don't," I gasp. "I swear I have to pee. If you tickle me while sitting on my bladder, I will never forgive you."

  He chews on the side of his bottom lip as he thinks it over. I'm still trying to push him off of me.

  "Deal," he says suddenly. "I promise I won't tickle you."

  I exhale and then gasp as his face drops to mine.

  "Doesn't mean that I won't still have my revenge," he breathes.

  We are almost nose to nose. Is he going to kiss me? I'm just about to close my eyes and dissolve into this fantasy when his tongue comes out, and he proceeds to lick the side of my face from chin to temple.

  I'm horrified, and I must look it because he falls off of me to one side, laughing.

  "Your face." He's having issues breathing. "You should have seen your face."