Some Kind of Normal Page 4

Call me or text me right now.

  Wow. Will do, Captain.

  The last ping had been for a missed call. Again my dad.

  With a sigh, I texted him back because I knew that he’d keep bugging me until I acknowledged him.

  At the movies with Hales.

  A few moments went by, and then a text came back.

  Next time let me know what your plans are. We’re going to have a chat about this. Come home right after the movie.

  Whatever. I stared at the text for a few more moments and then shoved my cell back down into my front pocket. Night had fallen and I shivered, putting my hands under my thighs, trying for some kind of warmth.

  The drive-in was full, and yet most of the kids here weren’t inside their vehicles. They were hanging out in groups like the one beside me, drinking, laughing, hooking up. I spotted several cars and trucks with fogged-up windows and skipped my eyes over them, only to land on a couple a few rows up who were pressed into each other.

  It was dark and hard to tell where the girl ended and the boy began. He had her pushed up against the car, his hand buried in her hair, and he was kissing her. He was kissing her like there was no one around. Like they were the only two people in the universe. He was touching her and pushing up against her and I couldn’t look away.

  Not even when his one hand slid down her hip and rested against her lower belly. It was intimate and it spoke volumes. I guess I was a pervert because I kept watching. Their kiss deepened, and as she tugged on his shoulders, trying to get even closer, I held my breath.

  I thought of Jason, a guy I’d dated for a long time. Never had I felt that way about him. So desperate to get close to him. So desperate to connect. To matter.

  Something inside me tightened. It swelled and pressed into my chest so hard that it was painful. I was one of probably five hundred kids out here under the stars, and for some reason, I’d never felt so alone.

  I tore my gaze away from the couple and tried to focus on the movie, but it was hard because suddenly there were tears pricking the corners of my eyes. God, here we go. Hot, painful tears. Angrily, I wiped them away and jumped off the truck.

  I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to get away. I rounded the truck, and Trevor glanced up, a smile on his face—a smile meant for the blond girl—and for a second I froze, letting the beauty of his smile wash over me.

  But it wasn’t mine, so I turned sharply, heading the other way.

  Hailey called my name, but I raised my hand as if to say I’m good and kept walking. What a joke. I was a joke. My life was a joke.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Trees surrounded the back end of the drive-in, and once I passed the first few rows, I started to run. I didn’t stop until my chest burned, and by then, I was deep inside the forest.

  It was quiet, and man the quiet was heavy. It was the kind of quiet that felt as if it was alive. It was the kind of quiet you could hide in.

  My breath misted in front of me, and I wrapped my arms around my chest, shivering as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. My ponytail had come loose, and hair stuck to the clammy skin at my neck.

  If my life was a movie, this would be where the stupid heroine (me), out alone in the dark woods, gets attacked by some deranged madman. I kind of laughed at the thought. If my life was a movie, it would totally suck.

  I leaned back against a tree, wishing the tightness, that hard coil of pain and confusion inside me, would just melt away. Maybe if I counted. Maybe if I thought of puppies and rainbows, I’d be fine. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel like I was standing on the edge of something that I knew would wreck me.

  So I did. I closed my eyes and counted to twenty, and then I started over. I wasn’t sure how many times I did it or how much time had passed, but a snap echoed in the dark, and suddenly I knew I wasn’t alone anymore.

  “Hey.”

  I knew that voice.

  Slowly, my eyes opened. Trevor stood a few feet away, hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. His dark hair fell forward across his brow and touched the tops of his shoulders. I saw something sparkle at his ear. A piercing?

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I shrugged and said nothing, afraid to answer because I wasn’t sure that I could. That damn lump was still stuck in my throat, and even though I blinked several times, the tears were still there, just waiting for an excuse to embarrass me.

  “The movie sucked,” he said quietly. I guess he wasn’t going away anytime soon.

  I cleared my throat but still said nothing, trying to hold in a shudder but failing miserably. It was damp, and I was cold and more miserable than I’d been in a long time.

  Trevor reached for the edge of his long-sleeved Henley, and my eyes widened when he began to pull it up over his head. He wore a T-shirt underneath, but even so, I saw a lot of skin as he raised his arms over his head.

  Mouth dry, I didn’t know what to say.

  “Here,” Trevor said as he moved toward me. “You’re cold.”

  He stopped just in front of me, so close that I could feel his body heat, and I shivered again. He held out his hand and I hesitated, staring at his shirt, because anywhere other than into his eyes was preferable.

  I didn’t want him to see what was inside me. I wasn’t ready for that.

  “Everly?”

  I reached forward and held my breath when our fingers connected. I swear something passed between us, but I was so emotional that I had no idea what it was. But it was there. And it was electric. Like a shock.

  I angled his Henley over my head and slowly threaded my arms through. My chest rose and fell, faster than I’d like, and I kept my eyes lowered as I pulled out my hair. I played with the tangled ends, afraid to look up.

  A heartbeat passed. And then another.

  “Better?” he asked, his voice low.

  I nodded. His shirt was still warm and it smelled like him. Fresh and clean and just…Trevor.

  Several long moments passed. Several long moments where the quiet faded away and the crickets made themselves known. In the distance I heard the vague echoes of those at the drive-in, but here in this small patch of sanctuary, I heard Trevor’s breathing and my own fast-beating heart.

  I knew he was watching me, but I kept my eyes averted, still too afraid to let him see what was inside them. Too afraid that his intense, penetrating gaze would rip apart my defense shield. And that little bit of defense was all that was keeping me from falling apart right now.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  My bottom lip trembled. Shit. Get hold of yourself, Everly.

  I shook my head and exhaled slowly.

  Trevor took a step so that he was beside me, and he leaned back against my tree, hands folded above his head. He glanced up through the branches at the stars that twinkled over us.

  I followed his gaze and relaxed into the bark once more, this time with the added barrier of Trevor’s shirt. The silence enveloped us, and we both let it. It was just easier somehow, and after a while, that big lump in my throat dissolved and the tightness in my chest faded to nothing.

  “There’s going to be a blue moon this month.”

  Wow. I’m silent all evening and that’s my opening line?

  “Blue moon?” Trevor pushed off from the tree and stood facing me. I tilted my head slightly so that I could see him better. I knew he was tall, and maybe it was the dark or maybe I was just feeling small and vulnerable, but right now, he looked larger than life. “What’s a blue moon?” he asked.

  “Every so often, there are two full moons in one month. The second one, that’s the one they call a blue moon.”

  “That’s kind of cool.”

  He inched a bit closer, and I found it harder to keep my breaths nice and even.

  “I’m sorry about today. I didn’t mean to suggest that
you had some kind of brain damage or anything.”

  Oh. My. God. Brain damage? Could I have been any more insensitive?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say brain damage.” Oh God. I said it again. “I meant…” Just stop. Right now.

  “It’s okay, Everly. I know what you mean.” Trevor shifted his weight, but his eyes never left mine. “Is everything okay with you?”

  Surprised, I didn’t answer right away. I tried so hard every single day to be normal and, at the very least, some sort of version of the old me. Guess I was failing at that too. “Why would you say that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. You look sad or something.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  He moved again. Another inch and now there was only a whisper between us.

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “It kinda is.”

  “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t know.” A slow smile crept over his face. “Maybe because I’m a moron?”

  I opened my mouth to reply but had nothing, and the two of us stood there for a long time, so close I only had to lean forward and I could bury my face in his chest. And that’s pretty much all I was thinking about right now. What he would feel like. Warm. Hard. Alive.

  “I can’t figure you out,” he said so softly that at first I wasn’t sure he’d even spoken.

  “Why would you want to?” I blurted.

  “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Maybe because you’re nothing like I remember, and for once, I’m pretty sure that thought has more to do with reality and less to do with”—he tapped his forehead—“the brain malfunctioning.”

  “You are.” I blew out a breath.

  “I’m what?”

  “You seem the same.”

  There was that lopsided smile again. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but trust me, Everly, I’m not that guy anymore.”

  Slowly he reached for me, and I inhaled sharply when his hand tucked a long strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Well, I’m just a girl,” I finally managed to say. “No big mystery here.”

  “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “You have a very different view of yourself from the one that I see.” His tone was light, teasing even, and I relaxed a bit.

  “Really.”

  “From the whole universe, if you want to know the truth.”

  “The whole universe?” I tried to hide my grin but it was hard. “That’s pretty big and far-reaching.”

  “Yep.” Trevor moved to the side. “Good thing I’ve got the whole summer to work on it.”

  “On what?”

  “On figuring you out.”

  The thought of Trevor Lewis figuring me out was not only terrifying, it made no sense. I chewed on my bottom lip, curious. “I was such a bitch at the library. Most guys would just blow me off.”

  “Most guys like a challenge.”

  “I disagree. Most guys like the easy win. The slam dunk. The whole nine yards.”

  “I’m not most guys, Everly.” He wasn’t teasing anymore. “A year and a half ago, I would have blown you off. I would have told you exactly where to go.” He shoved his hands back into the pockets of his jeans, and I noticed goose bumps on his arms. “Truth?” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe most guys would just say screw it. Or maybe I need to pass the government test so badly, I’m willing to spend the summer with a girl who’s cold as hell one moment and the next she’s talking about ink and Elton John. We’re going to be spending the summer together, so we should at least try to get along. Don’t you think?”

  Panic. I felt it nipping at my toes, clawing its way up my legs until it landed hard in my stomach. So I dug in. “I’m sure your pretty little blond friend won’t like that.”

  “Who? Jess?”

  “Is that her name?” I knew exactly who she was.

  “Jess is just a girl I know,” Trevor said. “But you’re…” His voice trailed into nothing, and my stomach tumbled again. This time harder.

  “I’m?”

  That slow grin was back, and if my stomach tumbled before, it was now spiraling out of control. Whoosh. Not an entirely pleasant feeling, and in fact, I didn’t like it at all.

  “You’re more complicated than that.”

  I laughed nervously. “I’m not complicated at all.”

  He grinned. “Well, lucky for me, I’ve got the entire summer to figure out if you are, in fact, a bitch or just a complicated girl who was having a bad day.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I exhaled and glanced back up at the moon as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

  Oh no. Nope. That was so not going to happen. I did not need someone like Trevor Lewis on a mission to figure me out.

  Mostly because there was too much that had to stay hidden.

  Chapter Five

  Trevor

  It was Thursday afternoon. Everly and I (I couldn’t call her Ever, just couldn’t) had finished discussing due process of law and procedural due process of law, oh, and let’s not forget about substantive due process of law. We were slowly making our way down an impressive list of things that she’d organized, and even though my brain was pretty much fried, I kind of liked this stuff. I just hoped that it stayed where it was supposed to stay. Deep inside my brain for when I’d need it later.

  The nagging headache I’d woken up with was still hanging around, but whatever. I’d learned to deal with a lot more than a stupid headache in the last year, and it was totally worth the pain, just so I could be here and watch Everly.

  Something about this girl intrigued me. Was it her smile? The way her eyes got really dark when she was concentrating and that little frown appeared between her brows? Was it the way she chewed on the end of her pencil (like now) when she was thinking?

  Was it the fact that she’d punched Brett Smith in the throat and threatened to kick him in the gonads?

  Or was it the fact that there was a piece of her hidden away? I’d felt it Monday night, and I felt it now. It was in everything that she wasn’t saying, and everything she wasn’t saying filled the silence up with little mysterious pieces of her. It was those little pieces that I wanted to explore. It was those little pieces that made her different from any girl I’d ever met before.

  We’d been studying all week and had fallen into a routine. I showed up at her place just before noon, and we’d head to the library to study. If she wasn’t meeting Hailey at the pool afterward, I’d drop her home around five.

  We hadn’t talked about anything other than government. I hadn’t brought up the drive-in, and she’d not said a word either. Not even when she returned my Henley, smelling all fresh and full of Sunlight detergent.

  But something was up today. She was distracted, and I’d caught glimpses of that sad look in her eyes.

  My cell pinged and I reached for it, grimacing when I saw that it was Jess. For, like, the tenth time. She wanted to hang out later, but I…

  I glanced over my laptop at Everly. She was gnawing on the end of a pencil again, tapping her fingers along the top of the table.

  “Something up?” I asked.

  Her head whipped up, and she studied me for a few moments and then shook her head. “No.”

  “You sure?”

  A nod.

  “Yep.”

  Huh. She wasn’t making this easy for me. I don’t want to sound like an arrogant dick or anything, but yeah, this is totally going to make me sound like an arrogant dick. I’m not used to having to work to make a girl like me. It’s just always been easy. Mom says that when I put my mind to it, I can charm the pants off anyone. Said I’d been doing it since the day I was born and Dad had to practically wrestle me from a
couple of enamored nurses. Something about my rosebud mouth.

  Apparently Everly Jenkins hadn’t gotten that particular memo.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I asked, watching her closely.

  Everly’s eyes were dark again. She cleared her throat, which was a delaying tactic, one I’d learned she used a lot when she was trying to figure out what to say. Or more importantly, what not to say.

  “I have youth group.”

  “Youth group.”

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Yes. Youth group. As in a bunch of teenagers, who would be the youth, who have nothing better to do on a Thursday night but get together, which would be the group, in the church basement.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “It is.

  “What do you guys do?” I was picturing choirs and hallelujah and much praising of the Lord.

  “We talk and stuff.”

  “About what?”

  “The weather.”

  Wow. She really was in a mood.

  “That makes exciting seem lame,” I teased.

  “It’s not a joke, Trevor. It used to be a lot of fun.”

  “Used to,” I repeated slowly. “So what changed?”

  There went the pencil again. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. She shrugged. “I guess I did.” The tapping stopped. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”

  I leaned back in my chair, happy that we were engaged on some level other than due process of law.

  “Why are you in such a bad mood?”

  She tossed the pencil. “I’m not.”

  “You’re full of crap.”

  She leaned forward, elbows on the table, and for a second, my gaze dropped. How could it not? She was wearing this pale yellow blouse, and the top buttons had come undone. I could be a nice guy and tell her about it, but right now, I was about as far from being a nice guy as snow was from Louisiana.

  Everly Jenkins had cleavage and—I grinned—was wearing a matching yellow bra.

  “What are you doing tonight?” she asked, oblivious to the fact that the more she leaned toward me, the more of that creamy, smooth skin was exposed. I noticed little daisies decorating the bra straps.