Dakota looks up at me. “Lexi,” he pauses, “you’re my best friend.”
Hearing him say that, I feel sort of funny. I mean, it’s not like he said, “I love you” or anything. Still, my heart is pounding all wild and doing acrobats.
“You’re my best-friend, too,” I tell him.
“Well … I guess I should go.” Dakota starts to crawl through my window, but then stops and turns back to me, as though he has something important to say, but then he seems to change his mind. Instead he says, “You’re getting really good at the guitar.”
Then he’s gone, out my window and into the night.
That’s when I remember, he said he texted me. I run to my iPhone all happy and excited. But when I check, I see I have messages from Jeremy too. Like a dozen of them. They all say the same thing: I’ve come back for you.
***
I didn’t go to school today. I wanted to, but Mom wouldn’t let me. Instead, I lay on the couch watching Buffy reruns, not planning to even move until three. But my plans get heaved out the window at lunch when Ragan comes waltzing through the front door. With Jeremy. I jump off the couch so fast, I almost break my neck.
Ragan turns to Jeremy and gives him this I-told-you-she’s-a-nut look. But all she says is: “This is my sister, Lexi. You met her yesterday, remember?”
Jeremy smiles at me as I glare at him from our stair landing. “Yeah, I remember.”
His transparent-blue eyes glitter up at me. “How are you doing?”
“How are you doing?” I want to ask. But I don’t. I know how he’s doing. He’s dead.
So, instead I just raise my eyebrows at him. “I’m doing better than you.”
Jeremy smirks, but Ragan rolls her eyes. “She’s not better. Look at her—she hasn’t combed her hair in a week.”
That isn’t really true. I combed my hair just yesterday, but I don’t bother to point this out to them. Instead, I just stare at Jeremy.
“Yeah, my hair’s probably a mess,” I tell him. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting a visit from the undead.”
“Lexi!” Ragan shrieks, as though I’ve lost my mind. But Jeremy just grins, like what I said is amusing. He doesn’t seem confused by it at all. Ragan sure does though. She looks ready to throw me in the loony bin.
“What’s the matter with you?” she hisses.
“Nothing’s the matter with me,” I tell her. “But you should check his pulse. He’s Jeremy Michaels—get it? The guy that died.”
She looks at me like I’m foaming at the mouth. Grrr!
“The guy from my car accident!” I’m practically yelling, but she’s not listening to a word I say. Or at least she’s not taking my words seriously. Instead, she’s squinting her eyes at me and shaking her head .
“Lexi, I think that accident’s given you permanent brain damage.”
Ugh! I give up, marching upstairs. I do it with as much dignity as I can muster wearing a chocolate-stained bathrobe and Tweetie bird slippers. I can feel Jeremy’s eyes follow me up the stair. I want to flip him off.
As soon as I get to my room, he sends me another text. Grrr! After a minute of chewing on my lip, I read it, but it doesn’t say what I expected. It says, “You promised.”
A shiver runs through me.
For a long time I chew on my thumbnail, then I chew on my lip, trying to figure out what that means—you promised. Finally, I give up and text back, “Promised what?”
He responds almost immediately, “That you would come back to me.”
Another shiver runs through me, through my body, through my soul. What is he talking about? I don’t have a clue, but I don’t want to know. I don’t write him back. Instead, I throw my iPhone across the room.
***
Right after Mom gets home from work, she and I go to Ragan’s choir recital, but I do a double take when we enter the gym. Dakota’s sitting up in the front bleachers. I wince. I forgot, Gina’s in the choir too. Dakota waves and gestures for me to sit with him, but I don’t. Instead, I turn to Mom. “I don’t feel well,” I rub my sweaty forehead. “I’m going to go back home.”
It’s not a lie; I don’t feel well. But if Gina wasn’t here, I’d probably stay. Only, she is here, and I don’t feel up to watching Dakota gaze at her all night.
Dakota follows me outside, though.
“What’s up with you?” he asks. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” I tell him, or more like snap at him.
But he doesn’t get it. “I’ll walk with you,” he says.
“No, don’t. I don’t want you to.” I keep walking. “Stay and listen to your girlfriend.”
“Why are you acting like this?” he calls after me, but I just keep walking.
I leave the building by myself. I head for home feeling dizzy and sick. The spots are back. They’re zooming all over the place.
“Lexi.” I hear my name, but it sounds far off, distant. I turn to look. It’s Dakota. He’s down the street, about half a block.
I try to yell to him, tell him I’m falling, but I can’t. Nothing comes out of my mouth. I wanted to tell him to catch me. But somehow he’s already doing it. He’s here. Beside me. I can feel his arms cradle me as I fall.
***
When I wake, I’m sitting on the curb. Dakota’s beside me, his eyes full of concern. “You’re awake.” He sounds so astonished it makes me smile. “I was afraid you went into another coma.”
“No.” I swallow, trying to piece things together. “I just fainted.”
He looks at me closely. “Are you okay now?”
I glance around, feeling sort of dazed. “Yeah. I think so.”
Dakota helps me home.
“Isn’t Gina going to be mad?” I glance at Dakota sideways, knowing she will be. Dakota’s leaving the recital to walk me home will make her explode.
Dakota raises his eyebrows. “She already is. But she’ll get over it.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know you two don’t get along, but I wish you could. You both mean a lot to me.”
“I know—I’m your best-friend.”
“Yeah.”
He seems kind of hurt. Like I was mocking him. And I don’t know, I guess I was. Now I feel bad.
“Thanks for helping me home.”
He sits at my desk, playing my Game-boy as I drift off to sleep, soothing me with his gentle promise, “I’m going to guard you until your mom gets home.”
***
When I wake, there is a dark, shadowed figure sitting in the chair beside my bed. Instinctively, I know it isn’t Dakota.
I rub my eyes, trying to dissipate the grogginess of sleep. “Dakota?”
The figure shakes his head. “Your mother sent him home.”
My heart gives a gigantic thump of pain. “Jeremy?”
Even in the dark I can see him wet his lips. “I told you I would come for you.”
His words fall flat, dead in my ears. Yes, he told me that. He told me he would come. I don’t remember when he said it, but I remember the words. They haunt me. “If you leave me I’ll come for you.”
And here he is.
He’s come for me.
“You said you were coming here only to say good-bye.” Jeremy sounds hurt, as though I betrayed him. “You promised if I let you go, you would come back to me.”
Hearing him say this, I remember. I was with him, while I was in my coma. We were together. We held hands.
“But … I don’t want to go back.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Please. Jeremy, I want to stay.”
Jeremy takes my hand. It’s warm. “Lexi,” he says. “You’re dead.”
***
I’m cold. So cold. I’m freezing!
With confusing effort, I open my eyes, only to be more confused.
I’m in my bathtub, full of ice.
“What the …?”
Mom comes into the bathroom carrying more ice. When she sees I’m awake, she drops the pack and runs to me, thr
owing her arms around my neck.
“You’re awake,” she cries. “Oh, Lexi, I was so worried. I was so afraid! The ambulance that was dispatched for you had an accident.”
“Ambulance?” I ask with chattering teeth.
“Yes, Dakota called an ambulance. Then he called me.”
Dakota’s beside me now, looking relived that I’m not in a coma again. “It was Jeremy,” he says, taking my hand. “He called me. He said you had a high fever due to internal injuries from the car accident. He said you were dying—almost dead. He said I needed to bring your fever down with ice.”
Wait, what? Jeremy saved me?
Ragan is in the bathroom now too. She throws her bucket of ice on me, even though I’m awake and my fever is gone. “Where is Jeremy?” she asks.
Dakota shakes his head, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know. He said he had to go.” Dakota looks at me, then hands me my iPhone. “He left you a message, though. I read it, sorry.” He stares into my eyes. “But what he said, it’s true.”
I look at my iPhone and cringe. But Dakota urges me to take it, to read Jeremy’s message, so finally I do. I read it, then squeeze my eyes shut, and read it again. “I want you to be with me Lexi, but Dakota does too. He loves you. But know this Lexi, I love you too … enough to let you break your promise. Goodbye, 4now.”
THE ONE
I was working at Posh, this upscale store in the mall. The moment it happened, I was bent over a rack of sweaters, straightening a wall display. That’s when he first spoke, catching me off guard.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Could you help me?”
He kind of laughed as he said the last part—the request part. Probably because his “excuse me” part made me jump a mile in the air. And let out a scream. Not a huge scream, more like a yelp-scream, but it was embarrassing, and only happened because I’m really focused and, you know, I was really into my work. I mean, I’d thought I was alone with the sweaters.
Anyway, once I recovered from my near heart attack, I turned to see who’d given it to me, but then oh! I almost had another one because I found myself face to face with Justin North. Justin North! He’s sort of adorable. And hunky. And mysterious, in a hunky, adorable kind of way.
For a moment or five, I stared into his gorgeous green eyes, hypnotized. Then, I sort of got a grip, almost. I mean, enough to notice stuff, like he was still smiling at me, amused like—which was sort of nice, only there was this gleam in his eyes that made me tug at the hem of my dress, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Cause the skirt was short. Wild short. How much had I shown him while I was bending over that display? The way he was staring at me made me pretty sure I didn’t want to know.
Justin wet his lips, eyeing me like I was a piece of candy and he was really, really hungry.
“You look different at school,” he said.
I acted as though I’d never seen him before. Why? I’m not sure exactly. Sometimes I just like messing with people’s minds. “You go to my school?”
He blinked, and set his jaw, looking surprised, and sort of frustrated, like he couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed him.
“Yeah,” he finally said, with maybe a little air knocked out of his sails. “We’ve never actually been introduced though. I’m Justin North.”
Which, of course, I already knew. Totally knew. I knew all about him. I knew he was new to our school and yet he’d dated almost every girl in it. I knew he was a total player, and I should run away from him. But as I mentioned, he was adorable and gorgeous and all that kind of stuff. And he had this trance-thing going. It was hard to move, let alone run away from him. I couldn’t even look away from him.
“I’m Kali,” I said, gesturing at the nameplate on my chest. His eyes followed the gesture. Weird, embarrassing mistake—on my part. I mean, it was like I’d given him permission to stare there. And he did.
Okay, to be fair though, I do have to admit: he was right. I do look different at work than at school. For one thing, I dress up for work, try to look sophisticated. That day, I was wearing a killer black dress and I’d fluffed my hair and used hairspray and everything.
“Yeah, I know you’re Kali,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve known that for a while now.”
Prrr!
Unfortunately, the way he said that, all I’m into you big time like, got me sort of breathless and weak in the knees. (I’m such a sap!) Still, I was careful not to show any excitement over it. After all, he may have noticed me, but he’d never done anything about it. Never talked to me, or called me, or anything. Besides, I already knew he noticed me. Lots of times I felt his eyes on me at school. But, that’s all he ever did—watch me—usually with a girl on his arm. Which sort of made him a dog. Albeit, a gorgeous dog. But still a dog.
“Can you take a break?” he asked, drawing in close to me, close enough that I could smell his woodsy, pinecones and trees scent. Unusual smells for a guy—but Mmmm. He moved in closer still, making me want to jump on him. “I’ll buy you a coke or something.”
No. Bad. Kali, resist!
I started straightening a rack of blouses I’d already straightened. “Can’t,” I said. “Working.”
But still, he didn’t leave. He stood by, watching my every move. I started to re-think my dress. It got me attention all right, but attention—apparently—was weird. Attention made me sweat.
“Well then, maybe, we could go out sometime,” he said, sounding frustrated. “Have dinner. Go to a movie.”
A date? He was seriously asking me on a date?! This dress had magic powers or something.
I stared up at him. Well, pretended to. Really I looked at his shirt, not into his eyes, because they were too hypnotic and made me think of …things. Romantic things, too, of course. Like kissing and yanking off his shirt. But odd things too. Meadows … trees … forests. Outdoorsy stuff. Weird, I know, but it seemed I could actually hear birds singing. Birds. Singing. What the …?
Whoa, Kali. Get a grip.
To help with reality—and ditch the birds—I asked Justin a question I already knew the answer to, “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
He shook his head, slightly. “Not that I know of.”
Guys are dogs. Seriously. They never seem to remember their girlfriends while they’re asking another girl out. My last boyfriend, Nick, messed me up big time. He was a dog too. A total player. Only I hadn’t known it at the time. I’d been gullible, clueless. Now it’s been months since we broke up, but I still cry about him practically every night.
So, I asked Justin about the blonde he was always with at school lately, Ava Bower.
That made him grin. “I thought you didn’t know I went to your school.”
I gave an uncommitted shrug. “Maybe I’ve seen you,” was all I was willing to admit. But I guess we both knew I’d been caught ’cause there was a trace of a grin still on his face as he gave the pat answer, “She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends.”
“Does she know that?” I asked.
He smiled, looking amused. But he didn’t answer. Instead he changed the subject. “You look really nice.”
Ug, my stupid heart. Stupid, stupid, stupid! It was suddenly doing gymnastics and stuff. But my brain knew it was dumb. Somewhere, deep-down, it knew. But it was so far and deep down that I was having trouble finding it, listening to it. ‘Cause his compliment. It was so unexpected. And sweet. And it was more than just the words he said. It was the way he said them. And the way he looked when he said them. He’d seemed so … sincere.
Sincerity, very sneaky.
I took a step away from him.
“What did you need help finding?” I asked, trying to regain my sales-associate, business-like composure.
Justin smiled. “I forget.”
“Something for Ava?”
His smile broadened with amusement. “No. I remember now. Something for my sister.”
“Sister, right. How about jewelry? I work on commission.”
Justin shook his hea
d, eyeing me. He wet his lips. “How about a dress—like yours?”
“For your sister?”
He nodded, an impish smile playing on his shiny lips.
I led him over to the evening section and showed him my dress—the exact one. The same size and everything. Then, smiling doubtfully, I showed him the price tag. But, he didn’t turn it down right on the spot. He actually seemed to be considering it. I chewed on my lip, watching him think it over.
“It’s expensive, but worth it,” I said, automatically working my sale. Hey, if he had the bucks to fork out for such an expensive gift, I was more than willing to take his money. I didn’t care who the dress was for—his sister, girlfriend, Labrador retriever. It was all the same to me.
“It’s super versatile,” I went on. “Accessorizing’s the key.”
Justin just smiled, seeming to find my all-out sales pitch amusing. I shrugged. “Look, I told you—I work on commission.”
“Yeah.” He still looked amused. “You mentioned that.”
I dangled the dress in front of him. “So, what’s it going to be, Sport? You want the dress?”
He sucked in his breath. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll take it. But in red.”
Of course.
I rang the dress up for him, careful not to look into his hot green eyes. Knowing if I looked, I was doomed. I’d melt like butter into a puddle on the floor. It would be a mess. The janitor would have to come and mop me up. Then there I’d sit for time and all eternity in a pail of dirty water. Doomed. Just like the rest of his semi-sort-of-girlfriends.
He’s a player, just like Nick! I kept telling myself. A player, a player, a player!
But the way he stared at me.…
No. I had to be strong. I wasn’t up for more heartbreak. I so, so wasn’t. And that’s all Justin North was, a heartbreak waiting to happen.
“Thank you. Have a nice evening,” I said crisply, when I’d finished ringing up the dress. I was careful to sound business-like. Nothing more. Not a hint of friendliness.
Still, Justin lingered at the counter. “Are you sure you can’t take a break with me?”
So Hot For You Page 4
