Take Me On(74)

I scratch at the stubble forming on my jaw as she wipes at a renegade tear streaming from the corner of her eye. She glances away and I feel sick.

Lila was depending on me and I jacked it up for her. For my family. For me.

An overwhelming urge bubbles inside me to head home—to talk to my family, the counselor at school, to fill out Florida’s spring admissions paperwork, which the counselor gave me to motivate me to do well in summer school. Since Josh died all I’ve been doing is ignoring my life, my future—just like how Meg ignores her baby. Yeah, going home, it would be running, but not the kind I’ve been doing for two years. It would be running forward instead of away.

When I left home to find Lila, I felt the first spark of awareness that things needed to change, but seeing Lila doubt herself, seeing her backtrack, it clears up my vision of what I need to do to get my life in order.

My grandpa once told me never to provoke an injured bear, especially one nursing its wounds, but sometimes the bear needs to be poked. “Who’s the runner now?”

A flash of fear shivers up my spine at the way her ice-cold blue eyes strike through me. “Excuse me?”

Hope I know what I’m doing. “I came here for you, Lila. For the girl who would never let anyone walk all over her. For the girl who wouldn’t be feeling sorry for herself because someone pranked her. Maybe I’m not the only one who told a lie. Maybe you invented the girl in the letters.”

Her mouth drops open; her cheeks redden as if I had physically slapped her. “You are a jerk!”

“You mad now?”

“Yes!”

“Good. Now stop focusing on what you can’t control and start focusing on what you can.” Like summer school, working toward college, applying for spring admissions and not on my parents, my sister, my nephew...my brother’s death.

Lila shakes her head, as if she’s waking from a dream. She leans against the desk for support and runs her hands through her hair. “You’re right.”

This is the girl I know: 100 percent in or out. No waffling. A girl who treats life like a missile with a locked-in course.

Her eyes roam over me and I’m confused by the slant of her lips.

“Lincoln?” she says as the silly smile grows.

“Yes?’

“You’re not wearing a shirt.”

Embarrassment heats my body and my hand darts to my chest, feeling the exposed skin. “Sorry.”

Those blue eyes smolder. “I’m not. But you may want to get dressed for this.”





Chapter 10




Lila

...and on the rock climbing—I think you’re underestimating yourself.

~ Lincoln

Lincoln walks beside me through the open field toward the tree line. He has a wide gait and I struggle to appear casual as I attempt to match his stride. His shirt’s back on, which is a sin. He could definitely give Echo’s guy a run for his money in the abs department.

At the wooden shed, the combination lock whines as I spin it to the right, the left and then back to the right. With a click, I unlatch the lock and open the door. Sunlight streams in and dust particles dance in the beams.

“Want to tell me what we’re doing out here?” Lincoln asks.

“Reclaiming my pride.” Stupid Stephen and stupid me. The past six months of our relationship flip through my mind like a bad award show montage: how I told him I was going to Florida, how he balked and then started talking about how scared I’d be once I moved. He played me. He played me so well that I almost abandoned my dreams.

If I’m being deep-down honest, though, Stephen’s prank was just the excuse I’d been searching for to drop Florida. And I could include my anxiety over Echo leaving and Lincoln not heading to Florida in the fall in the pathetic-excuse category. The truth is I’ve doubted going away to school because I’ve doubted me. I’m afraid of being alone.

I don’t know how to fix my fear, but I do know how to fix Stephen.

Once my eyes adjust to the darkness of the shed, I walk in and grab my brothers’ paintball guns. Lincoln was completely right. It’s time to stop being scared and start being proactive. It’s time someone turned the tables on the slimy little bastard.

I toss Lincoln one of the guns. He raises his eyebrows once he realizes what he holds in his hands.

“Shoot for their feet,” I say. “Their shoes cost two hundred and fifty dollars and they’d be pissed if they got stained.”

His wicked smile answers that he understands the plan and that he’s on board. “Have you ever used one of these?”

“Yep.” But it’s nothing I’ve ever broadcast to the world. “Have you?”

“It’s been a while.”

Good. “We’ve got six hours until sunset, and then it’s on.”

Lincoln’s eyes travel over my body, his gaze lingering on my curves. “I think I’m falling in love.”

At the word love, my insides flutter. I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying to imagine how sexy I could possibly be while wearing a pair of ratty cutoff jeans and a T-shirt and cradling a paintball gun. And then I wonder what it would be like if he really was falling for me, because Lincoln in real life is a million times more intense than Lincoln in letters...and I’m seriously falling for him.





Chapter 11




Lincoln

Will you go outside on the 28th and watch the meteor shower? I know what you’re thinking: 3:00 a.m.? But I think it will be beautiful. Besides, it will be cool to know that you’re watching the sky at the same exact time as me.

~ Lila

With a hip cocked in the doorframe of Lila’s room, I watch as she towel-dries her hair. Earlier, I witnessed Lila hit bull’s-eye after bull’s-eye with that paintball gun. The girl ain’t playing. Experiencing her Rambo side brought on some fear.

I chuckle to myself. It also turned me on.

The late-afternoon sun floats into her bedroom. We’ve got a few hours until nightfall. Being a natural climber, I called the high position in the trees. Lila plans to be at ground level.

She tosses the towel into a hamper and combs through her hair. “When will you have to leave?” she asks.

“I called my parents while you were in the shower. I told them I’d be home by Monday morning.” I also told them to expect major changes when I finally did arrive home—that I was going to focus on my future, not on the past. They weren’t happy I left so suddenly and that I didn’t graduate, but they weren’t irate.

She bites her lower lip and sinks to her bed. “So you’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad you came,” she says.

“Me, too.” Our gazes meet, and it’s the most comfortable I’ve ever felt staring into someone else’s eyes. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

She nods. “I’ll probably wake to every little sound, but I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl.” My eyes widen as I realize what I said. Lila’s not my girl. I want her to be, but... “I mean—”

“No, I like what you said.” Lila glances away, her hair swinging into her face.

Could she possibly feel what I feel? Lila and I were once strangers who met at a funeral. We became friends through letters, bonded by a shared dream of college in another state, and then I fell for her. Could she have also fallen for me?

In a handful of hours, I’m going to head home, and the one lesson I learned from Josh’s death is that life has to be lived now; the future isn’t always guaranteed. I have this one shot with her, and I’m going to take it. “This past fall you told me that you felt close to me even though we’re hundreds of miles away.”

Lila’s eyes jump to mine, I guess in shock that I remembered.

“Well,” I continue, “that’s what it’s been like for me, too. I’ve never shared my private thoughts with someone other than you, and I can’t imagine sharing them with anyone else.”

I pause, terrified to continue. If I’m wrong on this, I’ll ruin the relationship Lila and I share. Lila fidgets with a strand of her wet hair and keeps those gorgeous innocent eyes locked on me. No, I’ve fallen for her and I’ll regret walking away from this moment.

“I like you, Lila. As more than a friend. I wake up in the morning and I think of you. I go to bed at night and you’re the last thought in my mind. I dream of you. The best days of the week are the ones when I get your letters.”

She blinks once, her face frozen. My stomach sinks. “But if you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay. I swear—”

“Lincoln,” she says before I can finish. “I feel that same way...for you.”

I inhale as if it’s the first breath I’ve ever taken. Lila cares for me. I step into her room and pause beside her. “Can I sit?” Because it’s her bed and there’s no way I’m assuming I’ve got permission for a place as sacred as that.

She scoots over, creating a space for me. I lower onto the bed and my heart picks up speed. I rub my hands against my jeans and release a slow, steady stream of air. “I’ll be starting summer school on Monday.”

Lila angles her body toward me, a sure sign I’ve got her attention.

“My guidance counselor said that I’ve got a good chance at spring admission to the University of Florida because of my ACT and SAT scores and my grades before this year. He thinks if I can focus on summer school and write a kick-ass essay on how I learned from my screwup, the admissions board will look past my mistakes.