by Amie Knight
See Through Heart
Copyright © 2016 Amie Knight
All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted without written permission from the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share this book with others please purchase a copy for each person. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
See Through Heart is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and occurrences are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental.
Editor: Mickey Reed and Kelly Markham
Cover Designer: Hang Le of By Hang Le
Interior Design and Formatting: Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
PART TWO
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Author's Note
Acknowledgements
About The Author
For Kelly
Your kind and generous nature never cease to amaze me. I’ve never been more proud to call anyone my friend.
Like Ainsley, you are far stronger and braver than you think you are. I love you.
I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed.
I cried until my eyes burned like fire and my throat was raw. I kept hearing the doctor’s words over and over again on playback in my head.
“She’s not waking up. She’s gone.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“There is too much brain damage.”
“Her body is just on autopilot now.”
“It’s time to take her off life support and let her go.”
“It is the right thing to do.”
I’d failed. I hadn’t kept her safe.
I stared at the sidewalk through the sting of my tears. I liked the pain in my eyes. The ache in my throat. I deserved it. I swung my gaze to the ominous hospital looming above me. I’d been there nonstop day after day. Seven days. Sitting by her side. Seven days. Praying and hoping that, by some miracle, I would see her dazzling smile and her big, brown eyes. But all I got was the silence amongst the beeping and whooshing of the machines.
“She’s brain-dead.”
“There is no quality of life.”
“It is time to make a decision.”
Oh, God. I was going to throw up. I couldn’t stand to look at the hospital for one more second. It represented everything I’d lost. It represented countless nights of hope that would never come to fruition. It was over. One of the best things in my life was gone. I hunched over and put my hands to my knees. And then I yelled again. Because, I was just plain angry. Seething.
I stood up and screamed into the sky. I hated myself. I hated her. But, most of all, I hated him.
Age 8
I remember the first day I laid eyes on Adrian Davis. I was out back, playing in the creek that runs along my momma’s property. It was a typical day in the South, the blistering sun beating down on us and the air so humid that I could barely breathe. I usually hung around in the fenced-in backyard with Lori, hanging upside down or swinging high on the plastic swings, pretending to be acrobats like the ones we saw at the circus last year. When we weren’t walking tightropes, we would pick fresh tomatoes and mint from the plants off the back porch of our one-story brick home in Gilbert, South Carolina. We tore the tomatoes open and covered them with salt from the salt shaker we’d stolen from Momma’s old, cracked Formica dining table.
But not that day. Lori wanted to play alone. She did that from time to time, and I had learned not to push her. She enjoyed her solitude. She could sit forever playing Barbies and pretending all by herself. Me? I wasn’t built that way. I needed the interaction and company that friendship brought. I had to have someone to keep me entertained. So I met Miranda at the creek behind our fence so we could cool off and catch tadpoles. She had lived behind us for as long as I could remember. She had also been my best friend for that long. When I wasn’t with Lori, you could almost always find me with Miranda. She and I had an easy friendship that mostly consisted of her making me laugh hysterically.
With my tiny hands, I picked up the bucket of tadpoles and creek water and chucked it down so it was closer to Miranda. It sloshed, sending a ton of muddy tadpoles right into her straight, red hair.
“Oops,” I said quietly. It hadn’t been intentional, but it made me want to laugh. I loved getting her riled up.
She let out an irritated huff. “Damn, girl. Be careful. My momma will be mad as hell if she has to wash my hair again tonight.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. Your momma is always mad as hell, and stop cussin’. It ain’t cute or ladylike.”
Miranda snorted her laughter and gave me a look I knew all too well. I needed to run and fast. I tried to get away, but she had already grabbed a handful of mud from the bottom of the creek. I felt the mud splatter down the front of my favorite pink, gingham jumper. She knew how I hated being dirty, but I couldn’t back down. My pride wouldn’t allow it, so I reached for my own mud missile and launched it, hitting her square in the back. It wasn’t long before we were a filthy and sweaty mess rolling around in the murky creek water.
I was mad about my jumper, so I held Miranda’s head down in the mud and cackled loudly for effect. “Your momma is gonna be so pissed,” I teased her. It wasn’t until I felt a cold, wet mudpie hit me right in the back of my head that I stopped trying to drown my best friend.
In shock, I stood up and turned around, fully expecting Lori to be standing on the bank of the creek, ready to join the fight, but instead, I found a beautiful, raven-haired boy wearing what appeared to be church clothes. His blue slacks were held up by black suspenders that covered his crisp, white shirt. His black shoes were a little muddy from the creek but not nearly as much as his hands. Evidence.
Miranda stood up and leaned around me, her usual fiery temper on full display. “You did not just throw mud at Ainsley. She hates gettin’ dirty. Hates it. You done messed up bad.”
I stifled my giggle and ducked my head to hide my smile, but it was no use. I couldn’t not look at him. This alluring boy demanded my attention. Just as I looked up, he spoke.
“Doesn’t look like she minds it that much. She was just rolling around in the mud with you,” he said to Miranda. “Besides, I was just trying to help you out. She was about to drown you.”
Miranda huffed loudly, but I just stared at the blue-eyed boy. I had never seen him before, but he looked way too nice to be hanging around there. My murky, green eyes appraised him. He looked expensive and clean and my age. His face was handsome, his nose straight and turned up at the end. His eyes were like the ocean and feathered with dark lashes. His lips were plump and pink. The smattering of freckles across his nose only added to his pretty.
I couldn’t look away from him, and I could only imagine what he thought of me right then, my thick, unruly, curly, blond hair caked in mud. My hand-me-down pink j
umper dirty and worn. My feet bare because I liked shoes about as much as I liked green peas. Which was not at all. I tried to brush some of the mud from my clothes but gave up when I’d only made matters worse.
“My name’s Adrian Davis. My daddy and me moved in next door. You know, the house with the pool,” he said.
We remained silent and continued to stare because we were ornery little Southern girls like that. But he just kept right on yapping like it didn’t bother him one lick.
“Y’all should come over and go swimming with me sometime. I don’t have any friends here yet. We only moved in yesterday and school don’t start back for a month.”
I knew what house he was talking about. It was the white brick one to the right of my own home. There was a chain link fence that ran around the backyard and an above-ground pool with a big, red deck around it right in the middle of the yard. The house had been empty for a couple of months since our neighbors, the Wilsons, moved in with their daughter. I had been dying to go swimming in that pool for years, and now was my chance. I decided Adrian might not be so bad after all.
“Hi. I’m Ains—” I started.
Miranda jumped in front of me and cut me off. “Why are you dressed like that anyways?” she asked.
“Like what?” he snapped.
I could tell she was embarrassing him, and part of me didn’t like it, but another part of me thought it was pretty funny.
“Like you’re going to church or something, pretty boy,” she said with a laugh.
I giggled behind my hand. I enjoyed Miranda’s antics. She was mostly ridiculous, but sometimes, life called for crazy, and Miranda was happy to give it.
Adrian smirked at me and placed his thumbs behind his suspenders. “I like to look nice,” he said with a shrug.
He did look nice. Too nice for the likes of us, but that didn’t stop me. I needed his pool in my life.
I plastered my biggest smile on and made sure to lay my Southern charm on thick. “I’m Ainsley. I live in the brick house right there.” I pointed to the house so Adrian would know where to find me. “I live there with my momma and my cousin Loralie. We’d love to hang out with you.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. She knew exactly how much I wanted to get in that pool. Anyone who had ever lived in the South in the summer knew how bad too.
Adrian gave me a huge, toothy grin and placed his hands in his pockets as he stood up straighter. I could see then that this boy wasn’t just pretty. He was beautiful. The kind of beautiful I had only seen in movies. I loved his smile. It made my heart feel too big for my chest and my fingers tingle. I wanted him to smile like that at me every day, always.
Lori usually woke up before me most mornings, and that morning was no exception. I heard her climb down the bunk bed steps. I could feel her breathing beside me. She did this every morning, like she was debating on climbing in. But, just like always, she eventually pulled my covers back and snuggled up beside me. I rolled closer to her and wrapped my arm around her middle, getting comfortable.
Laying my head close to her, I mumbled, “Good morning.” I could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo as her hair tickled my nose. I loved waking up to her.
Loralie had come to live with us when she was two and I was four. My momma had said that her mom just couldn’t take care of her anymore. More than once, I’d overheard my mom and my gram talking about how Lori’s mom loved drugs more than she loved her. I didn’t get it. I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand how anyone could love anything more than Lori. She was my most favorite person in the world. It didn’t really matter, though, because my momma and I loved her to the moon and back. My life had felt pretty small before Lori. My father had taken off before I’d even been born. My mom had worked hard and put herself through nursing school because she really hadn’t had a choice. She had done it so she could support us on her own. But she ended up supporting both me and Lori. My momma was kind of amazing like that.
Lori turned to face me and put her forehead right up against mine. “Ains, is that boy you met yesterday gonna let us swim in his pool today? You said he might, and I really want to go swimming right now.”
I looked at the clock on our wooden nightstand. “It’s only seven in the morning, Lori. Momma ain’t even up yet. Try to go back to sleep.” I laid my head back down and closed my eyes, hoping she would get the message.
She didn’t. “I can’t. I’m too excited.” She sat up on her knees in the bed and begged me with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.
She almost always won me over that way. I was a complete sucker for those eyes.
I sat up too and ruffled her hair. “I’ll see what I can do. Let’s get some breakfast first though.” I had to admit I was pretty excited too.
We spent breakfast begging Momma to let us go swimming with the new neighbor, and after much convincing, she finally agreed. After we’d eaten, I made sure to put on my favorite pink swimsuit with the white polka dots. I took my time and brushed my thick curls into a high ponytail. I wanted to look good for the pool. It had nothing to do with the beautiful boy next door. Nothing at all.
We showed up at Adrian’s house at nine a.m. on the dot. It had taken a lot to hold Lori off that long. I stood on the porch of his bright, white house and nervously tapped my foot, working up the courage to lift the shiny, gold knocker on the front door. But I didn’t have to worry about it because Lori shot around me, rang the doorbell, and then ducked behind my back. She wasn’t as outgoing as I was. New people sometimes made her nervous, and I couldn’t help but be scared for her too. It took her a long time to warm up to someone.
Adrian swung the door open. He rubbed his eyes while grumbling under his breath. Great. We’d woken him up. I might have felt bad about it if I hadn’t been so excited. I could see he was taking us in—me in my polka dot suit and Lori, who was peeking around me, in her purple suit with pink sailboats, both of us gripping our pink towels in our hands.
“We’re here to uh…swim,” I said nervously, giving him a look-over. I smiled because he was still in his pajamas.
He saw my smile and grinned back at me. “Well, all right, then.” He leaned back behind the door and yelled, “Dad, the neighbors are here and we’re going swimming!”
His dad called back, “I’ll be down in a sec. Do not even think of getting in that pool without an adult present.”
Adrian motioned us in, and we all walked through a nice living room with a loveseat and a sofa. There were piles of packing boxes everywhere, some full and some empty. Where there weren’t boxes, there were piles of clothes, towels, sheets, and, well, everything. All of this everything was sprinkled with packing peanuts. It was a mess. We then headed through another doorway to a dining room and a kitchen. The back door was off the kitchen, and I could see the pool through the glass. I was staring that way when Adrian spoke.
“So, who is that hiding behind you there, Ainsley?”
Lori pushed her forehead into my back and tried to disappear.
I grabbed Lori from behind me and brought her to stand directly in front of me. “This is Loralie. She’s a little nervous to meet strangers.”
Adrian studied her for a minute. Then he leaned forward and touched his pointer finger to Lori’s little button nose. “Well, you don’t look like a stranger to me, Loralie. You look like my little sister, Maggie. She’s in heaven now with my momma, but she was the prettiest girl in the whole world. She had big, brown eyes and pretty, brown hair—just like you.”
I felt Lori gasp a little, but she moved forward and stood right in front of Adrian.
“Why did they go to heaven?” she asked.
I almost grabbed Lori and ran for the door. This whole conversation felt intrusive and awkward.
But, before I could bolt, Adrian replied, “They were driving home from the store a couple of months ago and someone hit their car.” He turned away from us and stared out at the pool.
His admission rocked me. Kids weren’t supposed to lose their parents
. I was just about to tell Lori that it might not be the best day to swim. That we should head home and give Adrian some space. But, before I could even get a word out, Lori walked right up to him and threw her arms around his middle. She laid her head on his back and squeezed tight. Adrian froze for a moment, and they stayed like that for a while. I stayed quiet and unsure. But, eventually, he turned and wrapped his arms around her too. I felt incredibly sad for both of them, having lost their mothers at such a young age. Their circumstances were different, but the outcome was, no less, the same.
Lori pulled out of Adrian’s arms and peered up at him. I could tell that she already liked him. She felt a kinship with him she didn’t feel with me. I had a momma. A good one.
“So, are we going swimming or what, Blue?” she asked.
Adrian quirked an eyebrow. “Blue?”
“Yep,” she said. “Just like your eyes.”
And that was that. The three of us were fast friends. We spent the rest of that day swimming in the pool, lying on our towels on the deck, and yapping while Adrian’s dad watched us from the porch while reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee. Adrian informed us that he was eight years old, just like me. They had only moved in a few days ago and were still working on getting everything unpacked.
Adrian did cannonballs and Lori giggled loudly. He picked her up on his shoulders and threw her halfway across the pool.
Each time, she’d yell, “Again!”
I swam, did handstands and somersaults, and floated on my back. I was deliriously happy because I was so blessedly cool in the middle of an awful Southern heat wave.
Much of our summer was spent that very same way. Swimming, running between the cotton fields a block over from our homes, or playing on the swing set in the backyard. We were wild and free. We fed Adrian our salty tomatoes right off the vine. We taught him to catch tadpoles in the creek behind our house. We caught fireflies in the evening and kept them in small mason jars. We lay on the damp grass underneath the stars at night in our backyards, hand in hand in hand. Our duo had all of a sudden become a trio. Lori could hardly wake without running over to get our black-haired, blue-eyed boy. My heart was so full with those two that it felt like it might burst. Adrian made our lives feel complete and happy. He was the Ken to our Barbies. The ringmaster to our aerial act.
