by Chris Cannon
“Okay.” This should be interesting.
He turned and opened the shed door, waving me inside. With the click of a light switch, I understood what West had meant. The shed was more like a playroom. Or at least half of it was. A love seat with a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles blanket sat against one wall. And there was a bookshelf stacked with books, puzzles, board games, a radio, and a few model cars. There was a small refrigerator plugged into the wall. Boxes of Pop-Tarts and protein bars were stacked on top. The other half of the shed had storage boxes, shelves for tools, and a lawnmower.
“What is this place?” I asked.
He went over and sat on the love seat, so I joined him. “This is the last bit of normalcy from when I was ten, before my mom became sick. We used to keep all these games in the living room. My mom loved to play. And then things changed. I moved the games out here because I always hoped one day she’d want to play again. That never happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw all these things away. I come out here to read sometimes. I know the Ninja Turtle blanket is ridiculous.” He pointed at the refrigerator. “But I do have soda and strawberry Pop-Tarts.”
I could picture a ten-year-old kid, hoping his family would become normal again, trying to preserve something that was special. And now I wanted to cry for West. “I’m so sorry about your mom.”
He shrugged. “It is what it is. So what were you running away from?”
He’d confessed, so it wasn’t like I could blow him off and not give an answer. “My jackass of a father stopped by, but not because he missed us or wanted to catch up. He came by because he needed my mom to sign off on selling his car. And when I called him on that, he played the, it’s-not-you-it’s-me card. And I hate him.” My voice broke. “I hate how he makes me feel.”
“Like your life is out of control and the grown-ups running everything don’t really know what the hell they’re doing?” West guessed.
“Well yes…but I meant how he makes me feel…like trash…because he threw us away.”
West stared at me for a moment, and then he said, “That is ridiculous.”
My face heated. “That’s what it feels like.”
“This is one of those hugging moments, isn’t it?” He rolled his eyes. “It’s totally your fault that I now think this way.”
“I’ll take complete credit.” I met him halfway, but the hug was awkward. I shifted around on the loveseat and our faces lined up. This was it. The do-or-die moment. He’d either kiss me, or consign me to the friend zone. I stared into his eyes, looking for a clue.
His warm breath feathered across my lips, making me hyperaware of how close he was, how good this could be.
“West?” I murmured, hoping he’d understand what I was asking, what I wanted.
The corners of his mouth turned up in a small, sexy smile, and then he kissed me. His lips were warm and soft. The sound of the rain hitting the shed roof faded into the background as his mouth moved against mine. I threw myself into the moment. Nothing mattered except the sensation of his mouth pressed against mine, and the warmth growing between us. Unlike the car, there was no reason to stop, no car horn to honk and break us apart.
The sensation of his hands skimming under the back of my shirt, his palm pressed against the small of my back, sent a wave of heat through my body, making it difficult to think. But I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to hide away from the world with him. Being in his arms like this helped drain away the anger…helped me focus on the good things in my life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
West
No one beyond my dad, Matt, and Charlie knew about my hideaway in the shed. Being here with Nina felt right. I wasn’t embarrassed about it like I probably should have been. The fact that she just accepted it—accepted me—made my world a brighter place.
We kissed for a while and then she pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. “Thanks for sharing this with me.” She looked past me toward the bookshelf. “Is that what I think it is?”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. Reaching over I snagged my copy of Harry Potter. “It is.” I held it out to her. The rain sounded like it was still coming down in sheets. “Do you want to read it?”
“We could read it together,” she said.
“How?”
“We could sit here, like this.” She scooted closer. “Put your arm around my shoulder, and I’ll hold the book so we can both see it.”
I almost made fun of the idea, but vulnerability shone in Nina’s eyes, like she knew she was taking a chance. “Okay.”
She snuggled against me, and I inhaled her apple-mint shampoo smell.
“Ready?” she asked.
“What if we read at different speeds?” I asked.
“Like most things in life, we’ll figure it out as we go along,” she said. “Or we could take turns reading out loud.”
No one had read aloud to me in forever. The idea made me smile. “Okay. You start.”
Nina read, and I found myself listening to the way she said the words, rather than what she was saying. She threw herself into the story, totally immersing herself in that world. She paused and glanced at my face. “What?”
I shrugged. “Nothing…you’re good at this.”
“At reading out loud?” She seemed to doubt my sincerity.
“Yes.” And that was the nerdiest compliment I’d ever given anyone.
“If I tell you something,” she said, “do you promise not to laugh at me?”
“You didn’t give me crap about the Ninja Turtles blanket, so you’re good.”
“I think it would be cool to be a narrator for audiobooks.”
“That would be cool.” I pulled the book from her hands. “But I think it’s time to take a break.”
“A break?” She pretended not to know that I wanted to kiss her. She pointed at the board games. “Are you in the mood for Yahtzee?”
“Not exactly.” I pulled her close. “Guess again.”
“Go Fish?” she said, right before I brushed my lips across hers.
“You’re really bad at guessing,” I teased before I kissed her again. And then we stopped talking. Everything sort of fell into place, like it was natural for us to make out on the love seat during a rainstorm. Like we sort of belonged together. And I needed to stop thinking about this before I freaked myself out.
A little while later, Nina stopped kissing me and tilted her head to the side. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I think the rain stopped.”
I listened. She was right. “Does that mean you want to leave?” It’s not like we were trapped together any longer, but I didn’t want her to go.
In response, she just shook her head. “But I could use a snack. Or we could go to my house for real food, if you want.”
I needed a reason for us not to go to her house, because even though I didn’t want her to leave, going to her house would feel too…domestic or relationship-ish. “I’m in the mood for Italian food. Do you want to go grab a calzone somewhere?”
“Sure. I’ll meet you at your car in twenty minutes.”
My father gave me an odd look when I came in through the back door. “Nina and I are going to grab something to eat.”
Hanging out with Nina was easy, even comfortable. Maybe because she’d told me her family’s secrets, which made me realize all families have issues. I wanted to tell her the truth about my mom, but it didn’t seem like the right time.
And it’s not like I was pretending my family was perfect. She knew it was messed up. She just didn’t know my mom’s illness was psychological rather than physical.
When Nina joined me at my car, she was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Let’s talk on the way,” she said.
“Okay.” I started my Fusion, and we backed out of the driveway. I waited for her to start talking. At the first stop light we came to, I said, “Should I ask questions or do you need time to think?”
She slid lower in her seat. “Most of the time I can keep a lid on my anger and pretend everything is okay. Then my dad shows up and my self-control goes out the window. My mom can keep her cool around him. I can’t. Even though he’s gone and he probably won’t be back, my house doesn’t feel right anymore. Does that make sense?”
“You’re saying he’s like a skunk that stinks up your house with toxic anger-creating fumes?”
She laughed, which is what I’d been aiming for.
“Yes. Exactly like that.”
Nina seemed more her normal self at the restaurant. We talked about books and television shows we liked. Then the topic of school came up.
“It doesn’t make sense for both of us to drive when we’re going to the same place.” She sipped her coffee and waited for my response.
If I didn’t offer to give her a ride, she probably wouldn’t be interested in kissing me again. So even though it felt like I was being manipulated, I said, “We can ride together if you want.”
“Sure.” She beamed.
Maybe I was finally figuring this girlfriend thing out. Wait a minute. Why had I thought that? She wasn’t my girlfriend. We were just…wait…I had no idea what we were doing. We’d passed the friendship stage, I was sure of that…so I guess we were dating. It’s not like we were not-dating.
Nina pointed at my forehead. “Why are your eyebrows doing that?”
“Doing what?” I reached up to touch my face.
“They were squished together like you were irritated or in deep thought. Are you stressing out about giving me a ride to school?”
“No.” It was much bigger than that. “I was trying to remember if I needed to stop by the store on the way home.”
“I think you need to stock the shed with chocolate Pop-Tarts. The strawberry kind are good, but chocolate are my favorite.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
…
Nina and I fell into a comfortable pattern. I gave her a ride to school every morning and then she went off to her locker to hang out with Lisa while I met up with Charlie and Matt.
“How did you make this happen?” Matt asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I always see guys walking girls to their lockers and hanging out with them rather than hanging with their own friends,” Matt said. “You and Nina don’t do that.”
Huh. We’d never really talked about it. “Maybe because we hang out after school.”
“See,” Matt said. “Dating your neighbor is smart. It creates a less clingy girlfriend.”
There was that word again.
“Dude, did you just flinch?” Charlie asked.
Had I? “Maybe. We haven’t really labeled our…relationship status yet.”
“I’m sure you have,” Charlie said. “You just don’t know it.”
“Have you grown a pair and talked to Clarissa lately?” I asked. “Or do you need Nina to do it for you?”
Matt laughed.
No reason for me to be the lone target.
“At least I’m not sitting on the sidelines trying to wait out someone else’s relationship,” Charlie shot back.
Matt went very still, and I was pretty sure Charlie was about ten seconds from a broken nose.
Instead of exploding, Matt stalked off.
“Charlie, what did you do?” I asked.
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I messed up.”
“Yes, you did, and good luck with that.” Charlie was always the first to throw a punch, but when Matt was angry he stayed that way for a good long time.
…
Thursday on the drive home from school, Nina’s cell buzzed. She checked it and grinned. Then she looked over at me. “Okay, this may sound like a bad thing, but it’s not.”
“No one has ever said that and meant it,” I joked.
“Well, Lisa and I signed up for an extra-credit project, and you could sign up for it, too.”
“I have an extra-credit project already.”
“Yes, but this is a better option. There are people trying to keep the Hilmer Library open until the new building is finished, and now it’s an option for extra credit.”
Why is she doing this to me? “So, your extra-credit project directly clashes with mine.”
“It’s not like you actually want to turn that old building into a recycling center.”
“Yes. I do.”
“But…isn’t it better to keep the library open and use something else for the recycling center, some place that is already a warehouse?”
I pointed out the obvious. “Recycling centers are good things. They help save the environment.”
“Libraries help people, too.”
“There are other libraries.”
“How can you not see my idea is better?”
“Your argument is invalid. Just because you think it’s a better idea doesn’t mean it’s actually a better idea.” The more I talked about this, the more annoyed I became. “And before you come back at me with another ridiculous argument, just know this is not open to debate.”
We didn’t talk for the rest of the car ride home. She didn’t say good-bye when she climbed out of the car and stalked over to her house.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nina
“I don’t get it,” I griped to my mom and brother at dinner that night. “How can he not see this is a better option?”
“Maybe he’s annoyed that you’re working against him,” Jason said.
“I’m not working against him. This isn’t personal. And I have the moral high ground.” My mom gave me the look, which meant she didn’t quite agree with me.
“I need you to listen to me,” my mom said. “Libraries are wonderful, but recycling centers are good, too. He doesn’t want to bulldoze the building; he wants to convert it and give it another life.”
“I get that.” And really, I did. “But there are plenty of empty buildings that could be turned into a recycling center. Why close the library?”
“I don’t know. But you two seemed to be doing well before this happened. Ask yourself this, is it something worth fighting over?”
Ugh. This was so frustrating. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight; I just thought I was presenting him with a more logical option, and he won’t even consider it.”
“Maybe you need to respect his decision,” Jason said. “I know you love to argue, but sometimes it’s irritating.”
“You can agree to disagree,” my mom said. “Or if it’s a deal breaker, then it’s a deal breaker. You’re the only one who can figure that out.”
…
The next morning, I glanced out the picture window and spotted West sitting in his car, reading on his phone. I guess that meant he would give me a ride, if I still wanted one. Or maybe it meant he was reading a good book. This was going to be fabulously awkward.
My mom came up behind me and said, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“How does that apply to this situation?”
“I think you’re good for him, and I bet you could help him be a happier person.”
“So he’s a fixer-upper?” I asked.
“Most men are,” she said. “And unless he moves or his dad evicts us, you’re going to be spending time around him. See if you can get him to loosen up and live a little.”
“I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Bookworm versus Brooding Hottie who plots to close libraries, take two.
When I opened the car door, he glanced up at me. “I wasn’t sure if we were riding together today or not.”
Okay. Was he saying he didn’t want to give me a ride? “I’m not sure how to respond to that statement.”
“It’s simple,” he said. “You either get in the car, or you close the door and drive yourself.”
Okay then. At this point, I was leaning toward driving myself. Or maybe I should ride with him for spite. Then again, did I want to deal with him being crabby this morning? I might be responsible for part o
f his mood, but it couldn’t be all me.
“Just get in,” he said with great irritation, as if he had the authority to tell me what to do. Wrong.
“Nope. I’m out.” I slammed the door and walked up the driveway toward my car. Why should I put up with him being moody?
I heard his car door open and close, and then footsteps coming up behind me as I opened my car door.
“Nina, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” I turned to face him and crossed my arms over my chest. “I hate to break it to you, but the ratio of obnoxious to attractive is not working in your favor this morning.”
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “What does that mean?”
I glared at him. “It’s simple. The more obnoxious a person is, the less attractive he is. You wanting to close down the library, combined with not giving a crap whether I ride with you or not, has made you fairly unattractive.”
He tilted his head and studied me for a moment. I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. The silence stretched out.
“Do you have a response?” I asked. “Are we done? Can I get in my car?”
He took a step toward me and then glanced back at his house. In a surprise move, he grabbed my arm. “Come with me.”
Okay. Now what?
I allowed him to lead me around to the back of the shed where we weren’t in view of anybody driving by on the street. He continued holding my arm, pulling me close so we were toe-to-toe.
My heart beat faster as he stared down at me and reached to brush my hair behind my ear. “So you’re not attracted to me anymore, is that what you’re saying?”
My brain said yes, but my hormones were too busy noticing that he smelled good, like clothes fresh from the dryer, combined with masculine shower gel.
Before I could answer, he leaned in and skimmed his mouth down the side of my neck. Heat shot through my body. My brain disengaged. “Oh…” was the most intelligent counterargument I could come up with.
He wrapped one arm around my waist. His lips skimmed across my earlobe. “You were saying.”
Blood pounded through my veins so loudly he could probably hear my heartbeat. And I could feel the smugness radiating off his body, or maybe that was hormonal heat. “You’re still wrong about closing the library,” I said, before turning to line my mouth up with his.
