imagining her as your girlfriend, you asshat.
I take her in the back door to the shop, the one that leads into the break room. I can hear Dad up front talking to some guy about surfboards. Although The Flying Mermaid closes around seven every night, those hours have always been open to interpretation. If Dad gets caught up with a customer, he’ll stay open until midnight or later.
I shove a beach towel off the bench in the breakroom. “You can sit here,” I tell her, then I grab the first aid kit off the wall.
She sits quietly, holding down her shirt to keep the drops of blood off it. With my hands full of gauze, big bandages, alcohol and the pain spray, I sit next to her and drop all the stuff into my lap.
“You really don’t have to go through all of this trouble,” she says quietly.
I shake my head. “I don’t mind. I should go grab my jackass friend and make him apologize to you as well.”
“I don’t even think he’s aware of what happened,” she says.
“Typical Bryce.”
She looks up at me as I pour some alcohol on a cotton ball. “Bryce from Robert Cullen High School?” she asks.
I nod. “So his reputation precedes him.”
She shrugs. “I thought he looked familiar. I don’t know him though.”
“Did you go to RCHS?” I ask.
She nods. “You?”
“Same,” I say with a grin. “I just graduated. I’ve never seen you before. I’m Josh, by the way. Josh Graham.”
“Bess Navarre,” she says, looking to the floor. “I think you know my friend’s boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” I say, leaning forward to dab off the blood with the cotton ball. “Who’s that?”
She inhales sharply through her teeth.
“Does it burn? I’m sorry,” I say. Without thinking, and because it’s just a habit, I guess, I lean forward and blow on the scrape to make it feel better.
She freezes. I’m suddenly so aware of how close I am. She smells like flowers. I could tilt my head up and kiss her.
Whoa.
I should not be thinking that. I sit up quickly and grab the pain spray. “This will help,” I say, my voice coming out all croaky. I clear my throat and hold up the spray can, aiming it over the red area.
“It does,” she says with a little sigh. “That feels so much better.”
“Great.” My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls and my stomach is tingling with memories of being so close to her. In my dreams, I’d slide my arms around her, pull her close and press my lips to hers. But this is real life, and you simply don’t make out with strangers in the back of your parent’s shop. At least not without their permission. I peel the backing off a large bandage and cover the bleeding parts.
“I think you’re good now,” I say, peering up at her. She grins and it makes my knees weak. In the back of my mind, I want to compare her to the list, but I can’t even remember what’s on the list at the moment. She’s so beautiful, she’s made all rational thoughts disappear.
“Thanks, you really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she says, standing from the bench.
I want to tell her to stay, to hang out with me, maybe even go get some dinner together. But that kind of stuff only works out in the movies. If I said any of that now, I’d sound like a weirdo. I stand up too, then, I remember she never answered my question.
“Hey, who’s your friend’s boyfriend?”
“Oh, um, Maddie and Colby,” she says, almost phrasing it like a question.
“Dude, Colby is my best friend.” All of these thoughts come bombarding into my mind at once. I can totally see her again because she knows Colby. Why haven’t I seen her before? And, dammit, did I just call her a dude?
I take a deep breath to get my excitement in check. “So weird that I haven’t met you before.”
She shrugs. “Maddie and I are sort of new friends.”
I nod. “Cool, well maybe I’ll see you at the next Mindy Carmichael party.”
An uneasiness flashes across her features, but she shrugs them away.
I take her in the back door to the shop, the one that leads into the break room. I can hear Dad up front talking to some guy about surfboards. Although The Flying Mermaid closes around seven every night, those hours have always been open to interpretation. If Dad gets caught up with a customer, he’ll stay open until midnight or later.
I shove a beach towel off the bench in the breakroom. “You can sit here,” I tell her, then I grab the first aid kit off the wall.
She sits quietly, holding down her shirt to keep the drops of blood off it. With my hands full of gauze, big bandages, alcohol and the pain spray, I sit next to her and drop all the stuff into my lap.
“You really don’t have to go through all of this trouble,” she says quietly.
I shake my head. “I don’t mind. I should go grab my jackass friend and make him apologize to you as well.”
“I don’t even think he’s aware of what happened,” she says.
“Typical Bryce.”
She looks up at me as I pour some alcohol on a cotton ball. “Bryce from Robert Cullen High School?” she asks.
I nod. “So his reputation precedes him.”
She shrugs. “I thought he looked familiar. I don’t know him though.”
“Did you go to RCHS?” I ask.
She nods. “You?”
“Same,” I say with a grin. “I just graduated. I’ve never seen you before. I’m Josh, by the way. Josh Graham.”
“Bess Navarre,” she says, looking to the floor. “I think you know my friend’s boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” I say, leaning forward to dab off the blood with the cotton ball. “Who’s that?”
She inhales sharply through her teeth.
“Does it burn? I’m sorry,” I say. Without thinking, and because it’s just a habit, I guess, I lean forward and blow on the scrape to make it feel better.
She freezes. I’m suddenly so aware of how close I am. She smells like flowers. I could tilt my head up and kiss her.
Whoa.
I should not be thinking that. I sit up quickly and grab the pain spray. “This will help,” I say, my voice coming out all croaky. I clear my throat and hold up the spray can, aiming it over the red area.
“It does,” she says with a little sigh. “That feels so much better.”
“Great.” My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls and my stomach is tingling with memories of being so close to her. In my dreams, I’d slide my arms around her, pull her close and press my lips to hers. But this is real life, and you simply don’t make out with strangers in the back of your parent’s shop. At least not without their permission. I peel the backing off a large bandage and cover the bleeding parts.
“I think you’re good now,” I say, peering up at her. She grins and it makes my knees weak. In the back of my mind, I want to compare her to the list, but I can’t even remember what’s on the list at the moment. She’s so beautiful, she’s made all rational thoughts disappear.
“Thanks, you really didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she says, standing from the bench.
I want to tell her to stay, to hang out with me, maybe even go get some dinner together. But that kind of stuff only works out in the movies. If I said any of that now, I’d sound like a weirdo. I stand up too, then, I remember she never answered my question.
“Hey, who’s your friend’s boyfriend?”
“Oh, um, Maddie and Colby,” she says, almost phrasing it like a question.
“Dude, Colby is my best friend.” All of these thoughts come bombarding into my mind at once. I can totally see her again because she knows Colby. Why haven’t I seen her before? And, dammit, did I just call her a dude?
I take a deep breath to get my excitement in check. “So weird that I haven’t met you before.”
She shrugs. “Maddie and I are sort of new friends.”
I nod. “Cool, well maybe I’ll see you at the next Mindy Carmichael party.”
An uneasiness flashes across her features, but she shrugs them away.
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