Saving Me

by Sadie Allen

  I shivered when I heard his footsteps on the wood, and it had nothing to do with the weather since it was a balmy almost-summer night.

  I quickly let the bra slide from shoulders then flung it over my shoulder. I heard him curse before I dropped feet first into the water.

  The tepid water closed in over my head before I propelled myself back to the surface. I wiped the water from my face and eyes then looked to see a shirtless Sterling standing where I had been a moment ago. Saliva filled my mouth. My eyes were riveted to the sight of his bare skin.

  “You know you’re in trouble, right?” he purred.

  My eyes lifted and caught his smoldering ones. They were so hot they practically glowed as he stared down at me.

  “I sure do hope so,” I stated matter-of-factly. “But you’re going to have to catch me first.” With that, I dove underwater and hoped he caught me soon.

  The sticky notes were a hit. No one had guessed who had done it, except the people who really knew me—Sterling, Blake, and Elodie. Even the faculty had loved the idea and kept stacks of the neon squares and Sharpies in ready supply in the locker area. You would think there would be a few idiots who would abuse the privilege, but surprisingly, no one had done anything ugly with the notes yet.

  Raven, at the insistence of Pops and the Thorpes, had an amniocentesis done once school let out for the summer. If there was a possibility the baby was Sterling’s, the doctor wanted to check for chromosomal abnormalities. It also provided an excuse to have an earlier than planned DNA test done. Raven still claimed Sterling was the father, so she couldn’t exactly refuse the procedure without looking like she wasn’t confident of the outcome.

  When the results came back that the probability of paternity was 99.9998% Miles Thorpe was the father of a healthy baby girl, Pops clutched his chest and collapsed in a chair, muttering, “No baby cribs.” Meanwhile, Sterling grabbed me around the waist and swung me in a circle right there in front of Raven and the Thorpes, which was admittedly awkward.

  When he set me back down, Jack patted Sterling on the back. Then, before I had time to gain my equilibrium, Jack grabbed me around the waist and spun me around, giggling like a little boy. I wasn’t sure how much he understood of what was going on, but I figured he was just happy that his pops and big brother were happy.

  Raven screamed and cried until Ella, Miles’ mom, offered to let her move into their home. That dried her tears up pretty quickly.

  Evidently, Raven didn’t have a great home life, something Sterling had told me once. She had gone on all morning about how her parents were on the verge of kicking her out and she was about to be homeless. That her getting pregnant was the last straw for them, and now they didn’t want anything to do with her or the baby. As she had said this, her eyes had never left the Chapman men, who had studiously ignored her.

  Her words had the desired effect, though. She was getting a new address; it just wasn’t her first choice. In the end, I imagined she wouldn’t be too sad with her new accommodations.

  During the commotion, Miles had disappeared. I hadn’t seen where he had run off to, nor did I particularly care.

  My parents’ divorce had gone through rather quickly. They had signed the papers before school had ended. Mom got the house and primary custody of me. Dad got visitation and took me out to dinner a couple times a week, alone. I wasn’t sure what his relationship was with Tina or if he planned to marry her.

  My little brother, Derek Everly, Jr., was born the following September. He was absolutely perfect in every way. Even my father said so … which was a good start for Junior.

  Who knew that the worst moments of your life could lead you to the best? If I had followed through with the decision to end my life, I would have missed out on so much.

  One thing that therapy had taught me was that life was comprised of seasons. We just had to weather the storms and take joy in those moments we found in the sun. Nothing ever stayed the same. Circumstances changed, and people changed. Life moved on despite the best-laid plans.

  I had found love in the least likely of places, though I couldn’t give Sterling all the credit. I had worked hard to get to a place where I finally accepted myself and found joy in the little things life offered. Even so, on a cold day in February, he had saved my life. He would deny it, but it was true.

  His love was my anchor. My lifeline. He didn’t realize this, but after that day, Sterling just kept on saving me … and I hoped he never stopped.

  * * *

  The End.

  First and foremost, I have to thank God for blessing me with this life and the opportunity to do something I have always dreamed. Without my faith in Jesus, I wouldn’t be here, writing stories.

  To my husband, thank you for your endless support. I don’t know how I’d be able to navigate this life without you. I love you more than words. Marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made.

  My children, thank you for being patient with all the takeout food and movie days. I love you more than my own life. You are my greatest accomplishments.

  Thank you to Kristin Campbell, Amanda Vance, Kat Kenyon, Deanna Strother, Raj Billa, Jennifer Simon, and Judy Zweifel for all your feedback and support. Y’all are amazing! I don’t know what I would do without y’all.

  Sadie Allen lives in Texas with her husband and three small children. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, catching up on her favorite shows, or chasing her family around the house.

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  Other novels by Sadie Allen:

  Maybe Never

  Killing Devon Peters (2018)

  Maybe Molly (2018)

  Keep reading for an excerpt

  of Sadie Allen’s debut novel, Maybe Never.

  MAYBE NEVER: EXCERPT

  Judd

  I slammed the locker door harder than necessary. It was just another day in hell, otherwise known as my life these days. Asher and his crew were at it again. Just when I thought they had forgotten about me and maybe I could breathe again, they did something like this. Well, it could be worse.

  I balled up the fabric in my hands as I walked toward the trash can to toss away the offending floral dress that had been hanging up in my locker. Then I glanced at where Asher and his group were watching from the other side of the hallway. He flashed me that smirk that was becoming so familiar while his buddies—my former buddies--laughed it up.

  Why hadn’t I realized he was such an asshole back when we were best friends? Had he always been like that, and I was just oblivious?

  Hitching my backpack up onto my shoulder, I walked down the hall to my next class, Culinary Arts, otherwise known as the cooking class.

  My life sucked. I dropped out of athletics to take this class because it was the only one available this spring. No other openings. No other options. I knew because I had tried everything. At least I wasn’t finding used condoms and K-Y jelly in my gym locker anymore. I doubted my hall locker surprises were far from over, judging by this afternoon.

  When had I become so emo? Why was I asking myself rhetorical questions?

  I gave my head a shake and prayed that the next hour passed quickly.

  I walked through the door of Mrs. Shannon’s room and stopped dead. The room was set up unlike any other class I had. There were long, faux wood tables with plastic chairs that made up one-half of the room, and the other half had mini-workstations with small oven/microwave combos lining the outer walls, and two islands floating in the middle with the same. There was an actual line taped between the classroom and the workstations, but that wasn’t what had me standing in the middle of the doorway.

  All the seats were tak
en except one, and I would rather take a seat in a car speeding over a cliff than the one that was open.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Jackson! Why don’t you take the seat next to Miss Klein, and we’ll get started,” Mrs. Shannon’s overly cheerful voice snapped me out of my contemplation of looking for that speeding car.

  Sighing because, really? Why should I be surprised? My luck hadn’t changed in two months, so why should it now?

  I made my way over to the chair next to Ashley Klein, my ex-girlfriend and the twin sister to my ex-best friend, Asher. Yes, they were really named Asher and Ashley. And before I even put my butt in the seat, she rolled her eyes and curled her lip.

  I was seriously questioning why I ever thought she was attractive. Yes, she had the classic blonde hair and blue eyes with a perpetual tan that lasted even through the winter. Not to mention, she had a banging body that I had seen up close and personal. Her attitude, however, was spoiled princess. I guessed the physical benefits made it easier to overlook the snotty brat that she was showing me now.

  Ashley made a choking/coughing sound that suspiciously sounded like “fag,” and then went silent while Mrs. Shannon went on to explain today’s lesson that would lead into our new project. Part one was baking. Great. Something that I only knew how to do in a microwave with one of those pre-made cakes in a coffee mug. She wanted us to get with our partner from last class and take notes, beginning the planning process.

  I pretty much tuned out the rest of her lesson when she started talking measurements, pre-heating, and greasing. My eyes were beginning to glaze over as she went on and on …

  I must have fallen asleep or went into a small coma, because I jumped when she clapped her hands together and announced that it was time to get with our partners for the remainder of the class. Next week, we would practice baking with the ovens. Joy.

  I looked around the room, hoping that Ashely wasn’t the odd person out who needed a partner.

  Before I could ask Mrs. Shannon what I should do, she called out, “Mr. Jackson, you’ll pair up with Miss Blackfox.”

  I was too focused on Ashley and ways to avoid her that I hadn’t looked at the people across from us. One, who I recognized as a girl from the drill team. She was moving her stuff to sit next to Ashley, thank God, and the other was Sunny Blackfox.

  I had been in school with Sunny since elementary, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember ever talking to her. She was pretty. Actually, very pretty, with long, shiny black hair; high cheekbones; and dark eyes. However, she always kept to herself and was quiet. Our paths hadn’t ever crossed since we never hung out with the same crowd. I had always been busy with sports, even as a little kid, and when I hadn’t been playing a sport, I had been with my friends, talking about sports, bikes, or hunting. Later on, as I got older, all that shifted to girls. Sports, my buddies, and girls. I didn’t know anything about Sunny outside of her and I going to the same school.

  I looked at her and found dark, almost black, serious eyes looking at me. They weren’t filled with disgust or discomfort, not even curiosity, just … expectant. I knew why when she asked, “Are you moving, or am I?”

  “Right.”

  I grabbed my blank notebook and chair, and moved over toward her side of the table. Once I was settled, neither one of us said anything. I just stared at the blue lines on the paper in front of me while she seemed to be doing the same, except her pages weren’t blank.

  I snuck a peek at her through the corner of my eye. She seemed to be reviewing her notes.

  At least one of us had paid attention. I couldn’t tell you anything Mrs. Shannon had said after the first five minutes of class.

  After a few more minutes, she finally looked over at me.

  I quickly turned my eyes back to my paper, playing off the fact that I had been watching her. The last thing I needed was to be accused of being a creeper.

  “So, have you ever baked anything before?” she asked. Her voice pretty much said she knew the answer.

  “Uh … no. I can’t say that I’ve baked anything before, but I can heat things up in a microwave.” I cringed. How lame was that? Anyone could press buttons on a microwave. I should get a gold sticker for that one.

  “Well, then you can be in charge of melting the butter.”

  “Okay … So, what am I melting butter for? I thought we could bring a box of Duncan Hines or Betty Crocker, and make a cake or something.”

  When she made a face, I figured that wasn’t going to fly. Really, though? What did she expect? I had just admitted to microwave cooking, which was something I did all the time at home for breakfast and dinner. I didn’t even know how to heat a frozen pizza in the oven, so I zapped pizza bites on a paper plate in the microwave.

  “I was thinking that I’d make … Well, that we would make miniature pineapple upside down cakes.”

  “I don’t like pineapple.”

  “You’ll like these,” she said in a voice that held no doubt, which was the wrong thing to do. I liked a challenge, and Sunny had just unknowingly placed one before me.

  “I doubt it.”

  Her eyes flashed in irritation, and I felt the corners of my lips curve upward in response. When was the last time they had done that?

  I opened my mouth to tease her a little more, just to see that flash of emotion again, but Ashley’s loud laughing froze me mid-speak.

  “Then I said, I don’t know whether Coach Jackson shops in just the women’s section or the plus-size!”

  That was followed by a peal of high, feminine laughter from the drill team girl.

  The corners of my mouth that had previously been turned up thinned into a tight line. I counted to ten and focused on the clock on the opposite wall, trying to get ahold of the heat that was scorching through my veins.

  “Hey, Judd! Do you know the answer?”

  My dad had taught me many things. One of those being never hit a girl. Kind of ironic looking back at that now, when I had never been so tempted to lay my hands on a female until now.

  Before I could do or say anything, Sunny’s voice cut through their laughter, strong and clear.

  “What is your problem? Did your brain absorb some of that bleach on your head or what? You might want to get that checked out. Just saying …”

  I looked over at the two blondes. For once, it seemed like someone had shut them up. No one--and I mean, no one--talked to Ashley Klein like that. She was too hot, rich, and more importantly--at least to her--popular. Girls either fell in line with everything she did or said, or they were crushed under the toe of her high-heeled shoe. Not that anyone ever did anything to contradict her, but the threat was always present.

  It was in the superior tilt of her chin and the slight smile that was ever present on her gloss covered lips. She was feared, and she fed off that. Again, why did I put my dick in this chick?

  I looked over at Sunny, expecting to see regret written all over her face because, really, she had just jumped into the ocean with a bleeding wound, and Ashley could smell blood from over a mile away.

  What I saw on her face, though, was far from regret. She was steady. Her eyes never left the two girls as she stared them down, and her face was again expectant, like she really thought they should answer her question. I wanted to laugh. Sunny had balls.

  I looked back at Ashley and the drill team girl. It was like watching a tennis match. I watched as Ashley’s eyes narrowed and saw the cogs begin to turn in her head. She was gearing up to throw down.

  I had spent the past two months mute, taking in all her and her brother’s venom, letting it infect my blood and blacken my heart, letting it cause almost as much damage as my parents had inflicted on me. And in the past two months, no one had stood up for me. When Asher and Ashley, plus all their friends, had spewed their garbage at me, no one had said a word or blinked an eye. Sure, when their backs were turned, a few students would look at me in sympathy, or maybe pity, but to say anything, they would have committed social suicide.


  I got it. I really did. Still, every pity-filled look tore a huge chunk out of my soul, which had been pretty battered to begin with.

  Though I would take every nasty word that Asher, Ashley, and everyone else said over pity, I had to stop Ashley before she used her whip of a tongue on Sunny.

  I looked over at one of the bravest girls I had ever met and said, “She’s not worth it, Sunny.”

  “But, Judd--”

  “No, she’s nothing to me, except a bad memory that left a nasty taste in my mouth.”

  I heard the shocked gasp from across the table and knew my barb had hit its mark. I would probably pay for that one later, but it felt good to lash out for once.

  “But, Judd …” she tried again, confirming something I had guessed about Sunny earlier. Like myself, or well, my old self, she didn’t back down from a challenge. I respected the hell out of her for that.

  Still, I wasn’t about to let her stick up for me, so I shook my head, about to tell her to just shut up, when Ashely recovered and spoke before I could.

  “No, Judd, I want to hear what trailer park has to say. Not that I care. I mean, why would I?” She chuckled and glanced over at Little Miss Drill Team, who wasn’t giggling or smiling for once.

  No, drill team girl looked like she wanted to crap in her pants. I expected her to break out with the sign of the cross. She knew by the look on Ashley’s face, and that tone of voice, that she was in the presence of Satan.

  Ashley might look like a little naughty angel, but as I had learned recently, that girl was filled with nothing but brimstone. I was surprised she didn’t smell like sulfur.

  “I mean, she’s that drunk Indian’s daughter … What do they call him?” She looked back at Sunny, returning the expectant look Sunny had shown her a few minutes ago. When Sunny didn’t say anything, Ashley snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s right! Laughing Lonny. Isn’t that, like, his Indian name? I heard he sounds like a donkey when he laughs. Maybe he should change it to Laughing Ass.”