I tilted my head. “Huh. Well, I like your vintage glasses. But I think I might like you better without.”
“Really? Why?” She peered up at me.
I cupped her chin and tilted her head so our mouths aligned. “Because they won’t get in the way when I do this.”
Lowering my lips to hers, I kissed her as we swayed to the music.
We danced every slow dance. It felt right holding her. She was soft, smelled good, and I never wanted to let her go.
After Homecoming, Annabelle and I were always together.
My mom had promised Wisconsin was our last move. That we’d make a real home there. With real friends. So instead of staying an indifferent loner, I opened up and let Annabelle inside.
****
“Brody, I need to talk to you.” My mom sat at the breakfast bar. Papers strewn in front of her, she scribbled on a notepad as her fingers furiously flew over a calculator.
“Can’t it wait? Annabelle and I are going to catch a movie.” I grabbed two Cokes from the fridge.
One thing about my girl’s humongous purses, we can sneak all kinds of snacks and pops into the movie.
Her fingers stilled on the calculator, and she let her pencil drop onto the notepad. “No, I think we need to talk now.”
I knew the look. Leaning back against the refrigerator, I shook my head. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. I stretched my arm toward the living room where Annabelle waited for me.
“I know.” My mom rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “I’m sorry. I thought this would be the last time.”
I turned my back to her and walked the length of the room. “When will there be a last time, Mom?”
“This will be the last move, honey, I swear. I couldn’t turn down the promotion. And the contract is for ten years. Ten years locked into one place. They can’t move us again.”
“We were supposed to stay here! I let myself make friends. Annabelle! I wouldn’t have done that if I’d thought we’d move again. If you hadn’t told me we were staying.” I threw one of the cans across the room. It hit the wall, and the flip-top gave way. Coke spurted and fizzed onto the cabinets and floor.
My mom frowned at the pop spraying across the kitchen before narrowing her eyes at me. She took a breath and continued, her tone harsher than it had been. “It’s the right move. I’ll still have to travel, but home base will stay the same. And it’s in Middleton. You’ll have Aunt Bess around when I’m not there. She can’t wait to see you again. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I didn’t think it would give us a little more permanency. This is going to be a good move for us, Brody.” She reached for me.
I batted her hand away and walked by. “Whatever.”
I stood in the doorway of the living room for a few seconds, trying to get up the nerve to go in. To tell Annabelle. I’d told dozens of friends over the years that I was moving, but none were as hard as her.
I didn’t know if I loved her or not. But we had a strong connection—no one could deny that. Whatever it was, I felt it rip me apart. Piece by piece, I felt it break inside me, like a tendon snapping. It suffocated me.
Damn, I was going to miss her.
“Um, Annabelle—” Her back was to me. I ran my fingertips down the back of her arm. “I need to talk to you.” My voice was thick, and I cussed under my breath.
I’m a guy. Guys don’t cry.
She turned and smiled. It was supposed to be the most beautiful curve on a woman’s body. The smile. I couldn’t say her smile that night lived up to that standard. It was small. Weak. And sad. So sad. “It’s okay. I heard. I always knew we had an expiration date, Brody.”
“I… I… damn it!”
“Shh.” Annabelle ran her fingers through my hair, and I buried my face in the curve of her neck. “You gave me the best three months of my life. I’ll never forget them. Or you.” I lifted my head and saw tears fill her eyes and drip to her cheeks.
“Please don’t cry. I’m not worth one of your tears, Annabelle.” I kissed them away, until there were too many for me to catch.
“Can’t you see? These are happy tears as much as they are sad. Brody, you gave me a gift. You showed me that it’s okay to be me. That there’s someone out there that’s going to love me for who I am. Quirky glasses, weird clothes, and all. I don’t have to change. To conform. You’re the first person to care enough about me to tell me I’m good enough just how I am.”
She bowed her head. Tears dripped to the hardwood floor like mini raindrops. Threading my hands through her black ringlets, I brought her face to mine. I wanted to kiss her with all the emotions boiling inside me. Frustration. Anger. Loss of control. All of it just under my skin, burning me from the inside out.
But when my lips touched hers, it was as if she were a balm to my soul. A calmness washed over me, and it was just Annabelle and me. There was nothing else. None of it mattered except those last precious seconds with her in my arms.
When she pulled back, she ran her hand down the side of my face. “Goodbye, Brody.” And then she was gone.
I never saw Annabelle again.
Beginning of Senior Year—Michigan
Sitting on the bleachers, I watched my new school’s football team trounce some other school.
I took a sip of my pop. “They’re pretty good,” I said, tipping my cup toward the field.
“Yeah. Undefeated for… oh, I can’t remember how many years, but a few,” the guy sitting next to me said. I didn’t know him. He just happened to sit down next to me, and we started talking. His name was John, but everyone called him Jo-Jo.
Manny sat on the other side of me. He seemed pretty cool, but he was with his girl so he didn’t get to talk much. But when the ref made a bogus call or our team made an excellent play, he’d lean over to say something. He talked so fast that he reminded me of a used-car salesman.
I wasn’t really watching the game. It was a blow out anyway. All that was left was for the clock to run out.
I caught sight of her climbing the bleachers after a snack run—she held the biggest blob of pink cotton candy I’d ever seen. She stopped three levels down from where I sat. One of her friends shook her head and said something, and the girl laughed. I had the crazy need to jump down the bleachers so I could hear it.
She was pretty, from what I could see. Very pretty. Dark hair, just past her shoulders. Small. Not just thin, but small. The kind of girl you wanted to fold in your arms and protect from the world.
I shook my head and looked away.
What the hell am I thinking? The last thing I need is a girl.
But my eyes had minds of their own, and my gaze wandered back to her. She sat with another girl and a guy, but body language said they were just friends. She didn’t watch the game. Her body was angled toward her friends—toward me.
I could see her face as she talked and laughed. And before I realized it, I was watching her more than the last few plays of the game. The way her lips lifted when she smiled. How her hands fluttered when she talked, faster when she was excited. The way her tongue darted out to lick a piece of cotton candy off her finger.
Running my hands through my hair, I let out a frustrated breath through my teeth. I squeezed my eyes closed, telling myself over and over I didn’t need a girl. Didn’t want one. But as soon as I raised my head, my gaze was drawn to her.
“Hey, Jo-Jo? Who’s that girl?” I jutted my chin in her direction.
“Who?” Jo-Jo looked in her direction and snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, man. She’s trouble is who she is. That’s Willow. She’s about the nicest person I know, but she has one big flaw. And it’s huge. She dates Jaden Smith.”
“Who’s he?” I chewed on the straw of my drink.
Jo-Jo smiled pointing to the field. “You’re looking at him. Captain of the football team and major douche. He treats her like shit on a shoe, man. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air she does.”
Manny leaned over and looked at me. “Tru
st me, Brody. That’s one chica you need to stay far away from. She’s beautiful, smart, and nice, but she is totally, completely off-limits. End of story.” Manny’s girlfriend tried to pull him back, and he brushed her off. “Jaden don’t play around when it comes to Willow. A guy can barely look at her, and he goes spastic. Stay away, man. Far away.”
I rubbed my hand over the back of my head and glanced at the girl, at Willow. “Why does she stay with him if he’s such an ass?”
“Pssh, she’s tried to break up with him. He made her life a living hell. Followed her everywhere. Not just at school either. He’d show up at the mall. The movies. Anywhere she went, he’d show up.” Manny chewed on a hangnail, looked down at Willow, and shook his head.
Jo-Jo shoved popcorn in his mouth and talked around it. “He’d threaten any guy that asked her out, too. She was a pariah.”
Manny stopped chewing on his thumb. “Pariah? Dude, did you get that word-a-day toilet paper?”
“Yeah, what about it?” Jo-Jo stuffed more popcorn in his mouth.
“That’s not even the right word, dumbass,” Manny waved Jo-Jo off.
“Yes, it is. It means…”
“I think you were wiping your butt and got your words back-ass-wards…”
Manny and Jo-Jo talked over each other, arguing over the definition of pariah, while I stared at Willow. She was smiling at something someone said, but there was something in her eyes, something out of place.
I’m such an idiot. I can’t even see her eyes. I need to back up and walk away. She has issues, and I don’t need the trouble.
****
When the game ended, I found Willow and watched her from a distance, but not so far that I couldn’t hear her talking. Laughing. Yeah, it was stalkerish and, no, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
She wasn’t even my type. Or so I tried to tell myself. But I knew that was crap. I didn’t have a ‘type.’ Annabelle was the first real girlfriend I’d had. I picked up a cheerleader at Stanton High right after we moved from Wisconsin to Michigan. That relationship crashed and burned like a second freakin’ Chernobyl. Colossal failure.
I jumped to a rebound girl a week later. Not my smartest move. The second break-up was worse than the first—freakin’ Tambora Volcano eruption. I walked away with an instant reputation—the kind no guy wants. But, whatever. I transferred to Cassidy High and vowed to stay away from girls until after graduation. Yeah, that lasted all of ten seconds before I was already stalking one.
Smooth, Victor.
She was even prettier close up. Her skin looked smooth, luminous. I wanted to run my fingers along her jaw and bury them in her glossy, dark hair.
Willow talked and joked with everyone. It didn’t seem to matter what circle or clique they belonged to, she treated them the same. And she seemed genuine. But with every smile, there was something in her eyes. Or rather, something missing. A small part of her that didn’t light up. Something clouded it. A sadness. A hurt. A hollowness.
And even though I should’ve walked away, I knew I was going to find out what lingered behind Willow’s eyes.
Running my fingers through my hair, I took a step toward her. I had no flippin’ clue what I was going to say, but my need to talk to her was overwhelming.
A guy in a football uniform beat me to her.
Ah. The loving boyfriend.
They talked briefly. I watched but couldn’t hear what they said. Moving closer, I heard him order Willow to wait for him in the car. Then he turned and started toward the school, but stopped abruptly, grabbing a kid by the arm.
He gave the guy a shake and bellowed in a deep baritone, “Do you have money?”
“Ye-yeah,” he answered.
“Good, buy her a Coke.” He shoved him toward Willow. The kid stumbled, on his way to a face-plant in the mud, when Willow rushed forward and helped steady him.
She glared at the boyfriend’s back. And if looks could kill, he’d be dead twice over.
“Are you okay?” she asked the guy. Her voice was soft, melodic. It pulled me to her.
“Yeah. Here.” He shoved two wadded-up bills at her.
She pushed his money away. “No, no, you don’t have to buy me anything to drink. Don’t listen to him.”
“Ha! Yes, I do. I don’t want him handing me my ass.” The boy’s eyes wide. He shoved the money at her before turning and jogging away.
The money fluttered to the ground and, with a sigh, Willow knelt to pick it up. I put the toe of my boot on the bills just as she reached for them. She jerked her hand away and peered up at me.
Hazel. Almost green. They were almond shaped and big, expressive. The most beautiful eyes I’d seen and they looked at me with a combination of confusion and irritation.
I squatted next to her. “Yours?” I asked.
“No… I mean, not really…” She looked around and sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”
I tried not to grin, but I could feel my lips twitch. She was adorable. “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” I picked the money out of the mud and wiped it across the leg of my jeans. “There you go.” I held it out to her. She gave me a small smile and took the bills. The very tips of her fingers brushed against mine.
“Thanks. I’m Willow.”
“Brody. See you around, Willow.”
Right then, I knew that Willow was someone I wanted to know. I wanted to be the one to make her laugh. Listen to her soft voice. I wanted to know the taste of her full lips. Feel her hair against my skin. Smell her scent. And I wanted to know what was hiding behind her eyes.
Most importantly, I wanted to know who gave her the bruises I saw just above the neckline of her T-shirt.
And then I would hurt them.
Unspeakable, by: Michelle K. Pickett available February 10th, 2015 on all platforms. Order your copy today!
Finding Willow Page 2
