by Codi Gary
Crazy for You
A Loco, Texas Novella #1
Codi Gary
Copyright
This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.
This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Crazy for You
Copyright © 2016 by Codi Gary
Ebook ISBN: 9781943772629
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
NYLA Publishing
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Dedication
To my friends, Hope and Deana!
Thanks for all the great memories and for always being willing to Thelma and Louise to my rescue!
Prologue
Deana Sawyer was unlucky. Not just clumsy, not just a few mishaps; somewhere along the line, she had been cursed with the worst luck ever bestowed upon one single person.
It had all started in sixth grade, when she’d been dared on Halloween to grab one of Miz Velma’s jack-o’-lanterns and smash it on the sidewalk. It had been a shame too, because those jack-o’-lanterns were beautiful, carved into intricate scenes that had probably taken hours of precise cuts. But when the most popular girl in school offered to be your best friend if you just do one simple prank, you did it, right?
Well, she had done it, picked up that pumpkin, held it over her head, and heaved it down onto the pavement. Bam. Splat. Orange pieces scattered across the walkway. Deana hadn’t been able to move as she’d stared down at the mess, so transfixed, she hadn’t heard the door open behind her until a horrible screech sounded.
“You vile, brat!”
Deana had spun around, slipped on a chunk of pumpkin and fallen on her butt. Her gaze had traveled up the dark fabric of Miz Velma’s long, ragged dress as the older woman stood over her. They stopped only when she reached the woman’s angry eyes, glaring at her beneath the black witch’s hat.
“Deana Sawyer!” Miz Velma’s voice was breathy with shock, and Deana had wanted to crawl behind the bushes in shame. Miz Velma was the town librarian, and although some people called her a witch, she had always been kind to Deana.
“Miz Velma… I…” Deana stuttered, hearing the sound of retreating feet behind her. It seemed her new friends had already abandoned her.
“I expected this behavior from so many other children, Deana, but never from you.” Miz Velma’s voice was strangled, as if she was holding back tears and Deana’s own tears had pricked with shame.
“Miz Velma…I…I didn’t want to, but—”
“But you were pressured into it?” Miz Velma’s face twisted into a disgusted sneer. “I am about to impart my last bit of wisdom to you, Deana Sawyer. You will never be one of them. You will always be a clumsy, bookish girl who people will tease and ridicule. Until you accept who you are on the inside, you will never like yourself, and neither will anyone else.”
At those last harsh words, Miz Velma whirled around, her black shroud swirling with her, and walked back up the steps of her porch. As she disappeared inside, slamming the door behind her, tears fell from Deana’s eyes and trailed down her cheeks.
A few seconds later, the porch and the inside lights were shut off, and Deana was left alone, surrounded by chunks of broken pumpkin.
Deana avoided the library and Miz Velma as much as possible. She was haunted by Miz Velma’s words, which turned out to be very true. The popular girls she had tried to impress had used what happened as new fodder to tease and ridicule her, and she had never become more to them than the butt of their jokes.
So she’d kept quiet, fading into the background at school, and focused on her grades. After that night, though, strange things started happening. Strange, awful accidents. There had been the stage face-plant in eighth grade, when she’d fallen face-first in front of the whole town, breaking her nose just as she was reaching for her diploma. The pale pink dress her mother had spent a month making her had been soaked with blood, and she’d had two black eyes and a swollen nose for the whole month of June.
Freshman year, hoping to change her image again, she’d tried out for the dance team. Despite the other girls snickering at her, she had done pretty well. Even made it into the top three.
Unfortunately, she kicked too wide and sent Becky Jackson flying into Molly Sherman, who ended up with a mild concussion. She hadn’t made the team, so she’d joined the Math Magicians and peer counseling. Neither activity boosted her popularity, but at least it had looked good on her college applications.
Sophomore year. Mr. Wharton had approached her to tutor one of the senior football players. The guy had been failing math, and despite her agreement, she had dreaded it. Her arch nemesis, Leah Paulsen, had come up with the ingenious name, Disaster Deana, and the football players had enjoyed chanting it every time she managed one of her klutz-tastic accidents. The last thing she needed was to spend her time and effort on one of the lack-witted jerks who enjoyed making her life a living hell.
Still, she found herself waiting after school in the bleachers as football practice concluded. After fifteen minutes, she finally got up, deciding that her new pupil wasn’t coming and she was off the hook. As she started down the bleachers, her ankle turned, and she went airborne, her shoulder hitting the hard metal first as she started to tumble. Her whole body rolled once, twice, each twist causing a new sharp, searing pain to shoot from her hip, her arm, her thigh.
She felt hands on her as her fall came to an abrupt halt, and a worried male voice said, “Shit, are you okay? Can you hear me?”
She hadn’t been able to answer before the world tumbled into total darkness.
* * *
Deana woke up groggy and sore. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert and tasted like mothballs. She opened her eyes, blinking and squinting against the brightness, searching the white walls for any sign of where she was. The steady beep reached her ears, and she looked up next to her bed to find a medical monitor. There were rails along the bed, and she could feel her bare butt against a scratch sheet. She lifted the blanket on her and found she was wearing a cotton hospital gown.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
She jerked her head toward the deep voice, and her head swam a bit.
“My head…”
“Yeah, I think they gave you a dose of something to dull the pain. You took quite a tumble.”
She finally noticed the boy sitting next to her. Actually, boy was not a good description. Hunk of gorgeousness, maybe? Tousled dark hair, green eyes, and a square jaw with the shadow of scruff across his cheeks made him appear older. His accent was pure Texan, yet still she couldn’t place him.
“Who…” She swallowed hard against the dryness, “…are you?”
“Sorry, we didn’t get a chance to officially meet. I’m Finn Meyers.” Warm fingers wrapped around her hand and squeeze gently. “I’m the dummy you were supposed to tutor.”
Her brain had tried to tie things together, but all she had managed was “You were there when I fell?”
“Yeah, scared the hell out of me too,” he said.
Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was the way his smile blurred into a perfect face, but she squeezed his h
and back, whispering, “My hero.”
And as she fell back into a drug-induced stupor, a rough chuckle followed her down.
* * *
When Deana finally made it back to school, she had developed a Texas-size crush on Finn, whose sweet, good-old-boy attitude made him all the more endearing. He wasn’t Math Magician smart by any means, but he was a lot smarter than the other blockheads she’d found herself tutoring. When they’d made it through his first makeup test, he’d picked her up, twirling her around in his arms, and she had held on tight, taking in the warm, hard planes of his body and the light scent of Irish Spring soap. She’d never wanted him to let her go.
The day Finn had really stolen her heart for good, though, had been a warm November night when she’d been reading a word problem out loud. She’d turned to look at Finn, and her voice had died as his mouth swooped in and took hers. Her first kiss, and it had been sloppy, wet, and perfect. He’d pulled away with a smile, his voice a deep rumble that made every nerve in her body explode.
“I like you, De.”
Deana had been over the moon with happiness, and had spent the whole weekend singing, dancing, and whistling around the house, without a single accident.
Monday morning, though, Deana had quickly realized that Finn was avoiding her. He ducked into the bathroom when she waved or turned his back to talk to someone else when she came out of class. She’d been puzzled and hurt at first. Even during their tutoring sessions, when there was no way to avoid her, he had pulled his arm away from her touch a time or two.
Finally, anger smoldered to the surface, and she slammed the textbook she’d been reading closed. “What is the matter with you?”
His eyes shifted away from hers, but she could have sworn he appeared guilty. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve been avoiding me and acting weird. What did I do?” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, which only fueled her fury. She’d been humiliated enough to last a lifetime, and now this guy, who she’d begun to have feelings for, was lying. At least the other people who tormented her were open with their maliciousness.
“You didn’t do anything!” he snapped.
There he went, hiding again. “Obviously, I did something. Just tell me the truth. I mean, on Friday when you—”
He cut in, his green eyes meeting hers with a look full of regret, and her stomach turned. “Look. I’m new here, and it’s my senior year. I’m going to go to college next year and get out of this town anyway. I’m not looking for anything serious, and I just want to fit in.”
Cold sweat broke out all over her body as she anticipated the punchline. “And you can’t do that if you date Disaster Deana, right?”
He swallowed, grimacing like there was something foul in his mouth, and she knew deep down he wasn’t this guy, that he hated what he was doing. It didn’t make it any less painful or make her sympathize with him one little bit. After all, it might be his reputation he was saving, but it was her heart that was breaking.
“You know what? Don’t worry about it. I think you should probably find a new tutor, though.” She stood swiftly, holding on to the shreds of her dignity as she walked away from him. Even when he called her name, she didn’t turn back, prepared to make her grand exit.
Instead, she’d walked into a library cart full of books and had fallen over it. Books scattered around her as she lay on the ground, so horrified she couldn’t move.
Burying her head in her arms, she couldn’t hold back the sobs that exploded from her.
His hand came down to rest on her shoulder, and it infuriated her. She shook him off and sat up, dashing at the tears on her cheeks as she struggled to her feet. “Just leave me alone.”
“De—”
“Leave me alone.” She ran for the door of the library and all the way home, making it after fifteen minutes of lung-burning pain and several scrapes and bruises from falling.
After she slammed into her bedroom, she leaned back against the door, breathing heavily. She caught her reflection in her vanity mirror. At the red-rimmed, puffy eyes and pale skin. She stared at the face of Disaster Deana and swore, “One day, things are going to be different. Just you wait.”
Chapter One
Eight years, eleven months, and fourteen hours later.
Deana Sawyer paced down the main street of Loco, Texas, population 3,112, trying to drum up the courage to walk into Crazy Al’s Food and Drug. It wasn’t like she was a silly teenager and needed to sneak around, but she also didn’t want everyone in town talking about how Disaster Deana was seen buying red hair dye and condoms. It wasn’t any of their business what she did or didn’t do in her spare time.
Except people love to talk, and they’re going to wonder who you’re shacking up with.
The truth was…nobody. Yet. But Deana had a plan. Before Christmas, she was going to get a man and shed her horrible luck if it was the last thing she did.
With a deep breath, she ducked into Crazy Al’s and made a beeline for the beauty aisle, determination lengthening her short stride.
“Well, good morning, Deana, honey. How’s your mama doing?” a voice called from her left.
Deana stopped and gave Albert Calhoun, Senior a nervous smile. “She’s doing fine, Mr. Calhoun.”
“Enjoying Arizona, huh? Tell her we miss her, okay?” Mr. Calhoun raised a bushy red brow laced with gray. Mr. Calhoun and her mother had gone to high school together, and she always had a feeling he might have been sweet on her before he married Mrs. Calhoun.
“Will do.” Then she snuck away before he could ask her anything else. She was on a mission.
Her escape was blocked when she bumped into another customer, and she immediately started to apologize. Before she could get the words out, though, she lost her balance and fell against a canned food display. As she struggled to remain upright, the unmistakable crash of cans met her ears. She closed her eyes and hit the ground, covering her head in case one of the hard cylinders fell on her.
“Dad-burned and blast!” Mr. Calhoun shouted.
Deana moved her arms enough to see she was safe from any lingering cans. As she started to sit up, rough hands lifted her to her feet from behind, and she looked over her shoulder, past Mr. Calhoun’s scowling face, to see the retreating back of a man with unkempt hair. As he exited the store, he turned back, staring at her with dark fathomless eyes, and a shiver raced up her spine. Where did she know him from? He seemed familiar, in a disturbing sort of way.
“Are you all right, Deana? What happened? Did you have another one of your spells?” Mr. Calhoun fired off the quick succession of questions, drawing her attention from the creepy man.
Spells. That’s what many of the older generation called her frequent bouts of clumsiness. Or episodes. Or total catastrophes. Just once, she wished she could spend one day where nothing bad happened around her. No slipping, sliding, tripping, falling… One day when she wasn’t Disaster Deana.
“I’m fine, Mr. Calhoun. I’m really sorry for knocking over your display.” Mr. Calhoun tried to help her to her feet, but instead, she knelt down to pick up the mess.
“No!” Mr. Calhoun’s shout made her jump. Covering his panic with a cough, Mr. Calhoun added, “Don’t worry about it, Deana. I’ll have Paul restock them.
Deana stood back up, heat suffusing her cheeks, and hurried away from him to the beauty aisle. She picked up the first red hair dye she saw and moved on to the next item on her list. Finally spotting the condoms, she blinked at them as she read every label. Ribbed. Magnum. Glow in the dark.
Grabbing a pack of regular, she stacked the items in her hands and walked up to the checkout. Sweat trickled down her back as she tried to calm the queasy, gut-wrenching nervousness. She was an adult. There was nothing wrong with being prepared.
As she set the items down and waited, Mr. Calhoun came around the corner, followed by his bag boy, Paul. She was a little surprised none of the five Calhoun siblings helped their dad out, especially since two of
the girls were living at home again.
Mr. Calhoun rang up the hair dye, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you women want to go coloring your hair all the time. What’s the matter with being natural? I swear, my daughters are constantly plucking and tweezing, and it’s enough to make a man…” Mr. Calhoun’s voice trailed off when he picked up the condoms. When he looked at Deana with raised eyebrows, she expected a lot of things to come out of his mouth, but…
“Erm…what are these for?” Mr. Calhoun asked blankly.
Deana heard Paul’s snort and wanted to smack the kid. Hard. Right after she heaped a large spoonful of punishment onto Mr. Calhoun’s giant, red-haired noggin.
Humiliation she was used to, but when it was caused by a stupid, thoughtless question? Well, that just pissed her the hell off!
“Well, Mr. Calhoun, sometimes people use them to prevent the spread of STDs and pregnancy during intercourse.”
He flushed as Paul scoffed, and Deana pulled out a twenty, handed it to Mr. Calhoun, and snatched up her purchases without asking for a bag. “Keep the change.”
* * *
Finn Meyers walked up the main street of Loco, Texas, and chuckled at the lack of change the town had gone through in the last eight years. Still playing up the English translation of the town’s name, like Crazy Al’s or Dye Me Crazy Salon, the businesses that lined the streets looked like they belonged in the last century. Older buildings suited more for an old western movie lined the streets, with the only updates being a concrete sidewalk and neon signs in the windows.
Okay, so he was being unfair. The town had character, which was why he’d moved back. He wanted to be somewhere quiet, quaint, and without all the bullshit that came along with living in a large city.
He passed by a group of women who eyeballed him with obvious interest. Giving them his best smile, he drawled, “Ladies.”
