In This Moment(8)

We’ll sleep when we’re dead, Aimee.

Shuddering, I remind myself that I’ve spent the last year cultivating a new persona, and this version of Aimee Spencer doesn’t attract attention. She never misses class, she makes the Dean’s List, and she reads ahead.

What would she make of me now? The thought is so confounding that I very nearly laugh out loud.

After a solid thirty minutes of reading, I swallow the last of the donut and search the front pocket of my bag until my fingers find the wound-up cord of my earbuds. I jam them into my ears and scroll through my library until I’ve found what I’m looking for—a mellow indie band that I discovered in Portland. I lean back until the musky smell of earth fills my nostrils and tiny blades of brittle grass tickle the skin of my shoulders.

With the music in my head and my hair pressed out all around me, I follow the twisting pattern of sunbursts darting between the lacey palm fronds. I look until the spanning brightness turns the world hazy white and stings the back of my eyes and I’m forced to close them.



I’ll be the bottles on the beaches

You’ll be the waves that wash them all ashore



Is it strange that my brain conjures up the image of Cole Everly’s face? I only talked to him for five minutes almost a week ago, but like some swoony thirteen year old, I can’t stop thinking about him. Cataloguing his physical assets has become a regular distraction when I want to zone out.

Maybe this is what I get for spending an entire year avoiding any and all guys. Now my suppressed hormones are raging to the surface with a blistering vengeance.

Hmmmm. Cole.

It’s definitely those eyes. Sure, the rest of him is gorgeous, but I’ve never seen eyes like that—green and gold all at once. They blink from his face like two star-bright forest moons. And I remember that his nose has a very slight bump in it that somehow makes his face even better… more interesting.

Sensing movement, my lashes flutter open and I see a figure, backlit and looming above me. Drenched in equal parts light and shadow, it takes a few seconds for the lines of his body to solidify and for the angles of his face to come into focus. When they do, my heart lurches with a wild dizziness, and my body locks up.

It’s like the universe is playing a joke on me. I’m a mess of frozen joints and wide eyes—every single atom of my being seems to be caught in place. After ten beats too long, I manage to reboot myself by sucking in a breath of air and plucking the earbuds out of my ears.

“Hi,” he says.

I know that I’m staring like a fool, but I can’t help it, can I? Like I conjured him out of thin air, Cole Everly is smirking down at me.

“Is this okay?” He sits down on the ground next to me, folding his long legs into his body and draping his arms over his kneecaps with an easy confidence.

Completely disoriented, I let my eyes roam from the sun-tipped hair sticking out in every direction all the way down to the worn brown leather flip-flops that encase his long narrow toes.

I push myself up on my elbows, feeling the weight of my hair as it falls against my shoulders. “Your third toe is longer than your second toe.”

He laughs and the sound of it rumbles through my body and decides to stay awhile. “Of all the things I thought you’d say, pointing out my strange toes never crossed my mind.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I reply, glancing down to where my fingernails are gripping the dirt.

“It’s not that.” Cole closes his eyes like he’s searching inside himself for something. “It’s just that I wanted to…” He shoves his fingers back through his hair and exhales audibly. “Fuck. I was worried about you the other day and so was Noelle. You freaked out on us and I didn’t know what was wrong.” He smiles sheepishly. “I was on my way to class from morning practice and I saw you over here and I guess that I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

My heart seizes. Great. He thinks I’m half off my rocker and has taken pity on me—the broken girl who obviously can’t keep her shit together. I feel pulled out and raw under the intensity of his gaze. I fidget with the hair band wrapped around my wrist. “Your concern is appreciated, but why would you be worried about me? You don’t know me. You don’t even know my whole name.”

His laugh is quick and boyish. “Yeah I do. Aimee Spencer.”

This flusters me and Cole can tell. His smile gets wider and the dimples make an appearance. Great. There just had to be dimples, didn’t there?

“Give me a little credit,” he says, lifting his eyebrows. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t do my research?”