Winning Me Over

by Amber Garza

  I want to tell her that it's only a matter of time. If I plan to really follow in my parents' footsteps it'll happen eventually. But right now I just have to come up with a plan to get out of here. I can still work on making my original dream come true. The one involving a house all by myself and hours of solitude to write. Never again will I hope for a future that involves people.

  People only cause hurt. And I don't plan on being hurt again.

  After putting on my shoes, I stand up and shove my arms into my leather jacket. It may be hot, but I want to wear it. Something about it offers me comfort; makes me feel like me. I don't have a destination in mind, but I'm not at all surprised when I end up on her street. Even when I want nothing to do with her, that girl has a magnetic pull on me. She has since the first time I laid eyes on her.

  It reminds me of the stories I read as a child of the sirens who lured men to sea only to kill them. Paige lured me in the same way. Only she wasn't kind enough to just kill me. No, that would've been too humane. Instead, I'm still here suffering without her. And I have to learn to live with the fact that she didn't stand by me when I needed her the most. I have to live with this anger and pain inside that threatens to poison me from the inside out.

  When I reach her house, my heart stops. Her car is out front, and I spot her multicolored hair in the upstairs window. Jumping back, I hide behind a tree across the street. The last thing I want is for her to spot me. Then she'll just add stalker to my list of criminal activities. I rake my fingers down the trunk of the tree. Hard, jagged pieces tear into my flesh, and warm blood trickles. But I welcome the pain. I always have. When I was little I used to stab my hand with pencils, and when I got older I'd pick fights or slice my skin with a razor. Anything to feel outward pain. It made me forget about the inner pain, even if just for a moment. Physical pain is something I can control, emotional pain is more tricky.

  Peeking around the trunk, I stare at Paige's house. Movement from the kitchen catches my eye. Mrs. McAllistor is inside, and it looks like she's baking. A car heads down the street, so I duck back behind the tree. Heart thumping in my chest, I emerge from my hiding spot and walk swiftly down the street with my head bowed, my hands shoved deep in my pockets. I have no idea why I ever fooled myself when it came to Paige. She doesn't need me in her life. That was a lie. She has all she needs - a loving family, a best friend, money, stability.

  A sick mom. The thought flashes through my mind before I shove it down. I don't need to feel sorry for Paige right now. I'm the one who lost everything today. Just like I always do. When I round the corner and walk away from Paige's street, a sense of loss and disorientation attacks me. I have absolutely no idea where to go now. For the past month I've had only one destination, one goal, one purpose. Now that it's been taken from me, I'm empty and lost.

  But I'll re-route. I'm like one of those stupid GPS machines. I remember riding in the car with my mom once when she was borrowing someone's navigation system. Every time she turned the wrong way the robotic lady would say, "Recalculating." Even then I thought it resonated with me. That's what I'm always doing - recalculating. My life has never been stable. I've never been able to put down roots or feel secure.

  I think about how just last week I actually put my clothes in the dresser in my room at Aunt Callie's. It's the first time in years I haven't lived out of a bag. For some reason I was starting believe I was staying. I should've known better.

  No one has ever wanted me. Not my mom. Not my dad. Not my grandparents. Not any of my other aunts and uncles. Why had I been so hard up to believe it would be any different with Paige?

  TWENTY-THREE

  PAIGE

  "You didn't do anything wrong, Paige," Hadley says, sticking her pink plastic spoon into a paper cup filled with ice cream.

  I glance around, thinking about how the last time I was at Baskin Robbins it was with Colt. My gaze lights on the table we sat at, and my heart aches with longing. I set my cup of ice cream down, noticing that the scoop is melting inside. My stomach is churning so hard it’s making it difficult to eat. “Then why do I feel so bad?”

  Hadley shrugs. “Because you liked him and you wanted to believe the best in him.”

  “That’s just the thing. I still do.”

  “But he lied to you, Paige.”

  “So, Hads? Tripp did some pretty crappy things in his past too, but you’ve forgiven him.”

  “That's different.” Hadley dips the spoon that is the same color as bubble gum into her ice cream and digs out a scoop.

  “How?”

  “What Colt did wasn’t exactly in his past. I mean, he stole from his job this week.”

  “But what if he didn’t do it? I mean, they never found the money. They have no proof.”

  Hadley gives me an exasperated look. “Then have enough proof, Paige. You just don’t want to see it.”

  Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. “I just don’t get it. Why would he take the money?”

  She shrugs, licking her spoon. “You said he’s pretty poor. And wasn’t he telling you that he wanted to buy a car?”

  I flash her a dumbfounded look. “So he stole a hundred dollars, Hads? Really?”

  “I don’t know why he did it, Paige.” Hadley smiles sympathetically. “And for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry that he did. I know you really liked him.”

  I nod, knowing that Hadley’s trying to help me.

  “But isn’t it better that you found out now before you got in any deeper with him?” she asks.

  Define deeper. That’s what I want to say to her, but I don’t. I feel like I’m already in too deep with Colt. He’s under my skin. He’s imprinted on my heart. I’m not sure I can just forget about him and move on. And I’m not sure I want to. Of course I’m mad that he didn’t tell me the truth about his past, but I always knew there were things he didn’t want to share. I mean, he told me that. And in my heart, I know he didn’t take that money.

  “Hey.” Hadley waves her hand in my face. “You know that I’ll support you no matter what, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I just hate to see you get hurt, so I have to speak my mind.” She winks. “I learned that from my best friend.”

  “She’s pretty opinionated, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is.” Hadley giggles. Then she takes another bite of her ice cream.

  I take a bite of mine too, even though it’s like eating soup at this point. When it dribbles down my chin, I catch it with a napkin.

  “How is your mom doing?” Hadley asks, her eyes serious.

  “She’s doing okay. She’s handling her chemo a little better this time around.”

  “What about you? How are you handling it?”

  I shrug. “I'm just taking things one day at a time and trying to enjoy every minute I have with her."

  "Wow." Hadley smiles. "That's amazing. You're so much stronger than I am, that's for sure."

  "Because of Colt," I mumble under my breath.

  "What?" My friend leans in to hear me.

  "Colt taught me that."

  Hadley bites her lip, staring at me worriedly. "You really like him, don't you?"

  "Yeah, I really do," I say miserably.

  "Then what are you gonna do?"

  I shake my head. "I have no idea." And that's the truth. I'm so conflicted right now. I miss Colt so much that I just want to show up at his house and throw my arms around him. Only I know I can't do that. He'll see the confusion in my eyes, he'll sense the doubt. And then I'll never get him back. I'll ruin any chance we have of being together. But I'm afraid the longer I stay away, the more distant he'll become. Maybe I can't win. Maybe things are already too screwed up. Perhaps we'll never find our way back to each other again.

  I've felt Colt's absence in my life like a physical thing. But now that I'm at work, it feels even more real. The reality of the situation crashes over me, and I worry that he's really gone for good. When I first got here this morning, I pulled my apron o
ff the hook and was assaulted with memories of him helping me tie it; of our passionate kiss. Then I glanced up and saw his apron with his nametag still attached. I reached out and fingered the gold etching, tracing the letters of his name, and I felt sick.

  For two days I've been walking around in a cloud. I thought maybe I'd snap out of it, but it only seems to be getting worse. Mom tried to talk to me about it, but I just couldn't discuss it with her. She needs to focus on her health and recovery. Besides, it's not like I don't know she's feeling sick. She's doing her best to hide it, but she's forgetting that I know the signs. I see the little cringes of pain, the pale skin and drawn face. In fact, I've noticed it ever since the night Colt came over. The minute I walked into the kitchen and saw Colt cooking with her, I knew something was up. I watched her that night and then I knew the real reason Colt offered to help her. It was because she wasn't feeling as well as she had told me.

  My heart flutters at the memory. How could someone that sweet do this? I know I couldn't have misjudged him so badly. I close my eyes, picturing how tender he'd been the day I told him about my mom's illness. I can practically feel his hands on me as I conjure up the memory of our first hug, our first kiss.

  It was real. I didn't imagine any of it. He showed me his heart, and I know it was genuine. So what if he did bad things in his past? That doesn't matter to me. I know who he is now. He's kind and gentle - the type of guy who would help my mom when she's sick and hold me when I cry.

  God, what have I done? How could I have doubted him again? Doubling over, I feel sick. Whirling around, I head to the bathroom in the back of the coffee shop. We're not open yet, so I have a few minutes. After using the restroom, I splash cold water on my face and race out. As I hurry out to the front, I crash into someone. My body is jolted backwards from the force, and I teeter on the balls of my feet. I flail my arms out and connect with thick fabric. I bunch it between my fingers to hold myself upright.

  "If you wanted to feel me up, you could've just asked," Jon says, and I stiffen.

  Pushing my hair back with my free hand I steady myself and look up at him. "Sorry. It was an accident."

  "Then why are you still touching me?" He looks down at my fingers still gripping his apron.

  I roll my eyes and toss it at him. When I do, the entire apron swishes to the side. The little pocket in the front is folded over, and my gaze catches on a green bill inside.

  My heart quickens. "What's that?" I reach for it. He bats my hand away, but I'm quicker. The bill is in my fingers. "Why do you have a hundred dollar bill in your pocket?"

  He snatches it from me. "It's mine. Don't worry about it. God, you act like you've never seen money before."

  "Wasn't it a hundred dollar bill that was stolen just two days ago?"

  "Yeah. So?" His eyes widen. "You think I took that money? Why would I do that?"

  It does seem a little farfetched. Also, why would he still have it today? As if in answer to my question I glance to the wall, at Colt's apron still hanging there with his nametag intact. "You were gonna plant it on Colt's things."

  He laughs bitterly, his eyes darkening. "Man, you really are delusional. I didn't take money from my dad's shop. There would be no reason for me to do that. Your boyfriend took it because he's a loser. So just deal with it."

  Anger courses through me. As odd as it seems I believe with everything inside me that Jon did this. He set all this in motion, and I'll do everything in my power to prove it. "Colt's not the loser. You are. Isn't that what this is about? You wanted me but you couldn't have me. So you were jealous of him."

  "You have a real ego, don't you?" Jon moves so close to me I can feel his breath on my skin. I shudder, grossed out by his proximity. But I make no attempt to get away. I stand up straighter, lifting my chin. I will not cower from him. "You really think I would go to all this trouble over you? You're trash. The loser with the piercings can have you. And you two can have lots of little pierced up, tatted up babies for all I care."

  "Oh, you care. If you didn't, then you wouldn't have gone running to Daddy the minute you saw us kissing."

  His hand is clamped around my upper arm before I can register what's happening. Pain sears up to my shoulder. "Listen here, you little bitch. If I wanted you, I'd have you right now, right here." He rams up against the wall, and his face nears mine. The grip on my arm tightens, and my heart thumps so loudly I fear I might have a heart attack. Fear snakes around my heart. I'm acutely aware of the fact that the shop is locked and we're the only ones here. "You think you're so smart, but you don't know shit." He grinds the words out.

  "What's going on here?" A man's voice bellows.

  When Jon releases me, I exhale and slump against the wall. My gaze connects with Bud's. His eyebrows are knit together.

  "Oh." Jon runs a hand over his head. "Hey, Dad. I didn't know you were coming in this morning."

  Bud's gaze flies between Jon and I. "You gonna tell me what's going on here?"

  Oh, hell. What do I have to lose? "I caught Jon with a hundred dollar bill. He was trying to plant it on Colt's apron. Colt didn't steal that money, Bud. I'm sure of it." Jon glares at me, hard. I swallow. "When I confronted Jon he attacked me."

  Bud recoils from my words. "Is this true, son?"

  "Of course not. She's just making up lies to protect her boyfriend. They were probably in on it together."

  My mouth drops open in shock. "Check him, Bud. He has the money."

  Bud sighs. "Paige, why don't you go home for the day? Jon and I will work this out."

  He doesn't believe me. Of course he doesn't. It's my word over his son's. What did I expect? When my gaze flickers over to Jon, he gives me a smug smile. I turn back to Bud fully intending to tell him to shove this job up his ass. I don't need it. I can find plenty of other places to work where I'm not robbed or assaulted. Then I think about Colt. It's clear that he didn't steal from here, and I need to prove it. I need to clear his name, and the only way to do it is to keep working here until I can obtain some evidence to support my theory. Shoulders slumping, I drag myself out the door. The minute I get to my car, I know exactly where I have to go and exactly what I have to do.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  COLT

  I'm blown away when she shows up at my door. I never expected her to seek me out, not after the way she ran away from me the last time we saw each other. She looks so hot, and I just want to take her in my arms, to kiss her until I can forget this whole shitty week. But then I remember that look - the one she gave me the last time I saw her - and my anger resurfaces. I glower down at her, crossing my arms over my chest so I won't be tempted to touch her.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I was hoping we could talk." Her voice is small, unsure. It's nothing like how she normally sounds.

  I fight to keep my anger in check, to not cave. "Well, I was hoping to never see you again, so I guess you're out of luck." Ignoring the hurt look on her face, I slam the door shut.

  Only she blocks it with her arm. "Colt! Please?"

  "Sorry. Begging doesn't work on me." Just as I'm turning away from her, my gaze catches on her arm, and I freeze. Bruises circle her upper arm. In one swift movement I reach out and grab her wrist. Slowly I roll her arm and inspect the bruising. It is dark purple and in the shape of handprints. "Who did this to you?"

  Paige's breathing is labored. I can see her chest heaving up and down. "Jon," she whispers.

  I drop her arm, rage filling me. "I'll kill him," I mutter to myself. Then I look up at Paige, curious. "Why?"

  "I accused him of taking the money." There is desperation in her eyes. "I know you didn't do it. I told Bud too."

  "Where was all this conviction the other day?" I lean against the doorframe, narrowing my eyes.

  "I'm so sorry about that. Will you please just let me in so we can talk?" Her eyes plead with me.

  I stare at her for a moment, thinking. Then I look at her bruises, and I know I'll say yes. Nodding, I swing the door open
wider. "Fine. Come in."

  She ducks past me. Callie sits on the couch holding Bristol in her lap and Zander is watching TV when we pass the family room.

  "Let's go to my room," I mumble, looking at the ground.

  Paige nods, pressing her lips together. Then she glances over. "Hey, Callie. Hi, Zander."

  They both greet her, and then she follows me down the darkened hallway. I step inside my room, Paige at my heels. She's so close I can feel her breath on my back. Her woodsy scent swirls around me. After closing the door behind us, I rest my back against the dresser and shove my hands into my pockets.

  Paige's eyes rove around the room, taking in the stark white walls and minimal furniture. "It looks like a hotel room, like no one lives here at all." She glances at the floor where my bag of clothes sits. "All of your stuff is in bags. Are you going somewhere?"

  "Eventually." I roll my neck, agitated.

  She steps toward me. "Colt." There is something so passionate about the way she says my name, and it causes my head to snap up. Her hand comes toward me, her fingers grazing my face. Heart thumping, I shove her hand away.

  "No, Paige."

  She reels back like I slapped her. "So we're back to Paige, huh?"

  "Yeah, we are." I shove my fingers back in my pockets. "Did you have something to say? If so, go ahead and say it. I don't have all day."

  Paige licks her lips. "Wow, I wasn't expecting you to be so mean."

  "Why not? It's who I am. I'm a bad guy, a criminal. You know the truth now, so there's no use pretending any differently."

  "But it isn't the truth. You're not a bad guy. You're the most amazing guy I know."

  "Then I feel sorry for you."

  "Colt." She speaks harshly. More harsh than I've ever heard her before. "Stop acting like this. This isn't who you are."