Lost To Me Page 3
But over the last few months, I’d become less and less interested in Tabby. She had ulterior motives for everything, and if something didn’t work to her gain she wouldn’t do it. We had nothing to talk about, nothing in common. It was a waste of my time, despite the sex, and I was over her.
I closed my bedroom door, flopped onto my bed and toed off my shoes. I closed my eyes, and Lauren filled my mind. My chest swelled thinking of her hand in mine, her lips against mine. She was hot. Looking into her dark brown eyes made me crazy, made me forget everything but being there and wanting her.
I shucked my jeans and crawled under the blanket in my t-shirt and boxers, then reached over to my nightstand and flipped my alarm on to buzz at six.
My head sunk into the balled up pillow I’d stuffed underneath it. Just as my mind drifted from consciousness there was a knock on my door, and Kyle entered my room.
“Hey,” he whispered, “you asleep?” The light from the hallway silhouetted him and stung my eyes.
“No. What’s up?”
He sat on the end of my bed. “Did you mean what you said about Tabby?”
I sighed and punched my pillow into shape before jamming it back under my head again. “Yeah, I meant it. I won’t ever be with her again. Why?” I knew why and clenched my jaw waiting to hear him say it.
He dropped his head back, staring up at my ceiling. His fingertips drummed together. “I might ask her out if you don’t care.”
There was no way Tabby would go out with Kyle. She may have before, but not now. He wasn’t the Kyle he used to be—athletic, intelligent, witty, the person I looked up to. A few months ago something in his head went haywire.
Daily he’d complain about the guys at school talking behind his back, saying they were out to get him. It all blew up the day he falsely accused his Algebra II teacher of searching through his locker and took a swing at him. The principal and school counselor had a meeting with our mom, and a psychiatrist evaluated Kyle by the end of that week.
The diagnosis: Paranoid Schizophrenia.
Kyle was hospitalized for two weeks, where they began medicating and counseling him. I’ll never forget the hollow and helpless feeling of seeing him almost catatonic from high doses of medication, and then agitated and raging when it wore off.
The big brother I used to know was gone. The nineteen-year-old, sometimes child, sometimes adult, who sat on the end of my bed, took his place. I missed my brother—the brother he used to be.
“Well?” Kyle said. His knee bobbed impatiently.
“It’s Tabby. Why would you want to ask her out?” I said, stalling.
What could I do? Tell him no? Send him spinning into the blackness inside his head, spurring him to smash his fist through doors and shatter pictures off the walls?
“Because she’s Tabby,” he said, looking at me like I was an idiot. “She’s hot. And I like her.”
“Wouldn’t it be weird going out with my ex-girlfriend?”
His lips pressed tight, and I knew I was starting to agitate him. “Weird? What do you mean, weird?” He stood and hovered over me.
“Nothing man. Nothing. If it’ll make you happy, go for it.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He smiled and let his arms fall. “Cool. Catch you in the morning.”
“Night, Bro.”
He left my room, closing the door behind him. My mind contemplated all of the possible outcomes of Kyle asking Tabby out. One, she’d tell him she still wanted to be with me and turn him down. Two, she’d laugh in his face and tell him he was crazy to think she’d go out with a mental case like him. Three, she’d flirt and milk it for all it was worth, leading him on with no intention of ever going out with him.
Three. Definitely three.
LAUREN
Amy, my brother-in-law, Dave, and my baby niece weren’t there when I woke the next morning. Dad was in his swim trunks out on the patio talking on his cell phone, and Mom was in the kitchen cutting strawberries in her bathrobe. “Where’s Amy?” I asked Mom, popping a strawberry in my mouth.
“She called last night and said they’d be here later this week.” She sighed in disgust. “Dave has something going on I guess.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sure it’s a good reason.”
“I’m sure it is,” she said, hacking tops off of strawberries.
Kolton’s car pulled up in front of our cottage. “I’m going to the beach with Kolton. Be back later.” I swiped a kiss on her cheek, and turned to dart out the door.
“Wait.” She put the knife down. “I want to meet the grown up Kolton. Let him in.”
I groaned to myself and swung the door open. He rounded the corner of the porch, and my insides lit up like someone had stuffed a candle inside me.
“Morning,” he said, taking my hand and kissing my cheek.
“Hi. My Mom wants to say hello.” I quirked my lip in apology.
“Okay.” He followed me inside.
“Mom, this is Kolton,” I said, leaning against the breakfast bar.
He reached across the countertop to shake her hand. “Nice to see you again.”
She set her knife down and squeezed his hand between hers. “I can’t believe you’re the same curly haired little boy that used to play with Lauren in the summer.”
“Mom.” I widened my eyes, shooting her a look.
She grabbed a basket covered with a dishtowel off of the counter and handed it to Kolton. “I packed you two a picnic breakfast.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kelling.” He looked at me.
“Yeah, thanks. Let’s go.” I nudged him with my shoulder and we bolted for the door.
At the beach, we climbed back up into our dune from the night before and opened the picnic basket. There were bagels with cream cheese, strawberries and sparkling water, along with a note that said: Bring my daughter back alive. Kolton laughed. “Your mom’s really cool.”
“She’s overprotective. Annoyingly so.”
He spread cream cheese on a bagel and handed it to me. I took a bite and got it all over my mouth. There were no napkins, so Kolton improvised by taking a strawberry and grazing it over my lips, collecting the cream cheese before eating it.
It would be a lie to say that we did a lot of surfing that morning. Surfing came later in the day. First, we kissed for hours up on our private dune.
A little before lunchtime, with swollen, chapped lips, I sat on Kolton’s surfboard out in the water. He stood beside me, teaching me when to paddle and when to pop up on the board. I watched him ride several waves, and then it was my turn.
“Here comes one,” he said, watching each wave form far out in the ocean and make its way in to us. “Ready? Now—paddle!”
I paddled hard, but the wave swept over me, and the board flipped. My arms and legs flailed in the water, and just as I surfaced, another wave pummeled me. Disoriented with panic edging in, I was somersaulting when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me up into his arms.
I panted for air, regaining my composure. “Thanks.”
He pushed my mass of tangled brown hair out of my eyes. “You almost had that one.” He patted the board. “Hop back up.”
I cut my eyes to my new enemy, the surfboard, reluctant to get back on. But I did. For him. I must’ve tried fifty more times that afternoon and managed to get up onto my knees once. Kolton caught a few more waves while I trudged out of the water and sat on my towel. I unzipped my camera case as I watched him, determined to get a few good shots of him on his board.
The scene came alive on the digital screen. The sun was a burst of white against deep sky blue that melted into the steely, midnight ocean. Sparks of light caught the water and rode the waves to shore.
Kolton popped up on the board with little effort. His orange and white trunks contrasted against the water. He bent and turned on the board, and I snapped a few photos before he fell into a wave.
He surfaced and dragged his board t
o shore. “Get any good shots?” he called, walking toward me.
“A couple.”
He plopped down on his towel and ran his hands through his wet hair. “Let me see.”
I jerked the camera out of his reach. “Maybe later.”
He narrowed his eyes and grinned. “What are you afraid of? I’m sure your photos are great.”
“What if they aren’t?”
“What? Do you think I’m perfect or something? Check this out.” He bent his knees and spread his toes.”
I bent my head to get a closer look. “You have webbed feet.”
“I do not have webbed feet. They’re just not separated all the way down in between.” He wiggled his toes.
“You’re a duck.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed me over into the sand. “I’m not a duck.” His hand clasped my arm and tugged me back up. “Will you show me now that I’ve embarrassed myself?”
I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “You can’t tell me if they suck. Seriously. I can’t take criticism from friends and family.”
He raised his right hand. “I swear. Praise only.”
“Okay.” I scooted closer and brought the camera up to our eye level, scanning through the pictures I’d just taken of him.”
“Wow. You really have an eye for this.” Kolton took the camera from me and held it lower, leaning over the screen, blocking the sun. “How do you know when to shoot the picture? It seems like you anticipated the shots before you took them.”
My chest surged with excitement. “That’s exactly how it is. It’s instinct. You know when it’s going to be good, and when it’s not and you’re just digging around for a shot, hoping something works.”
He handed the camera back and nudged against me. “You’ve got great instincts.”
I smiled, and he leaned in and kissed me. “Ready to go?” he asked.
With eyes stinging from salt and sun, I walked beside Kolton, back to his car.
“You look beat.” He strapped his board to the roof of his car. “I was thinking maybe we could grab something to eat at my house.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought of meeting his family. “Okay,” I said, not confident that I meant it, but at the same time, not wanting him to take me home yet. All I remembered of his mom was a mop of black spirals covering her head and skin pale to the point of being translucent, slathered in sunscreen.
We drove for maybe ten minutes before he pulled into the gravel driveway of a small, white, ranch. A detached garage sat to the right side of the house. A basketball hoop hung over the garage door. On the cement slab in front of it, a guy that resembled Kolton dribbled a ball and took a shot.
“That’s my brother, Kyle,” Kolton said. He turned off the car and tossed the keys on the dashboard.
Despite their similarities in appearance, brown hair and blue eyes, Kyle was a little taller and broader than Kolton. Although neither had bulging muscles, they both had athletic builds. But where Kolton was lean and defined, Kyle was brawny.
Kyle saw us and jogged over to the car as we got out. I managed to sputter, “Hi,” while tilting my head to hide my birthmark.
“Hey.” He lifted the bottom of his t-shirt and wiped his forehead.
“You remember Lauren,” Kolton said.
Kyle shot me a smile and nodded. “Of course I do. Ladybug bathing suit. How’ve you been?”
“Good.” Despite his smile, there was something behind his blue eyes I couldn’t quite figure out.
“We’re going to make some burgers. Mom home?”
“In the house,” Kyle said. “Burgers sound good.”
“I’ll make you one.” Kolton smacked the basketball out of Kyle’s hand, recovered it and went for the lay-up. Kyle chased him to the basket and watched as the ball went through the hoop.
“Man, you always get shots on me.” Kyle rebounded and dribbled the ball.
“I know. Because you suck.” He laughed, and Kyle punched him in the arm.
Kolton jogged over to me and took my hand. “Come here, I want to show you what my mom found the other day.” He led me into the garage.
The purring of kittens met my ears. A mother cat and her five babies lay in a big box with a couple of old towels.
Kolton pointed to a dish of food and a litter box. “Mom insisted she wasn’t keeping a bunch of stray cats, but then she got them food and brought them in here.”
I sat on the concrete floor and pulled three kittens onto my lap. The other two crawled around their mom. Kolton knelt beside me and snagged one off my leg. The black one was the smallest, and his favorite, I could tell. The kitten didn’t even fill his palm.
I stroked their fur, picked up the gray one and kissed her head. “What are you going to do with them?”
“I don’t know. I guess Mom will find them homes.”
“Aren’t you going to keep one?” I eyed the black one in his hand.
He held the kitten up to his face and nuzzled his nose. The tiny kitten mewed. “I might.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him with the kitten. I didn’t want to stare, but the way he cupped the baby cat in his hand while his fingers gently stroked the tiny head had my heart pounding.
After a while, he put the kitten down in the box with his mother, and I did the same with the two I held. “I’d take one, but my dad’s allergic.”
He took my hand, and helped me onto my feet. “Come on. Let’s go inside.” He led me into the house with Kyle on our heels.
Kolton’s mom was a tiny lady who moved like a hummingbird. Her black, spiraled hair was shot with gray.
“Mom, you remember my friend Lauren? Her family has that cottage by the beach we used to go to. She wore a ladybug bathing suit when we were little.” His hand was warm and reassuring on my back. “We’re going to make burgers.”
She smiled as she approached me. “Of course I remember Lauren. How’ve you been, dear?”
I brushed my cheek with my hand. “I’ve been good,” I said. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you, too. How’s your mother?” She straightened the cloth placemats on the table.
“She’s good. She asked about you.”
“Well, make sure to tell her hello for me.”
“I will.”
Kolton noticed my hand on my face, took it in his, and held it. I felt naked and tried to pull it back, but he wouldn’t let go. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in my ear.
“You’re beautiful,” Kyle mocked, leaning against the counter smirking.
Kolton glared at him. “You have a problem?”
He took a drink of water from a bottle in his hand. “Nah. You’re just prolonging the inevitable.” He laughed and strode out of the kitchen.
Mrs. Seidel seemed flustered that I was there, an unexpected dinner guest. She flitted around the kitchen picking up, putting odds and ends in drawers and cupboards. Even though she greeted me with a warm smile and said she remembered me and was glad I came over, I had a feeling she didn’t want me there.
Kolton pulled a pack of frozen hamburger out of the freezer. “I’ll do it,” his mom said, taking it from him. “You can start the grill. And wash your hands if you two have been holding those dirty kittens.”
Kolton winked at me. “Told you. She pretends she hates those cats.”
“You know I don’t like cats.” She peeled the plastic wrap off of the burger.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever. We’ll be on the deck.”
He grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge and handed one to me. I followed him out the sliding glass door to the back deck. “I think maybe you should’ve asked her before bringing me over.”
“I thought I’d get this part over with.” He unscrewed the top off of his water bottle. “If you want to see me again after meeting them,” he gestured toward the house with the spatula, “then I know you must like me at least a little bit.” He laughed, but he had
n’t been joking.
“They seem fine to me.” I was sure his mom wasn’t always like that. “You kind of sprung me on them.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What about your dad?” I asked. “Will I meet him, too?” He turned toward the grill, a deep line formed between his furrowed eyebrows. “Sorry. I shouldn’t ask such personal questions.”
His eyebrows shot back up as he turned toward me. “No. You can ask me whatever you want. Even if it’s a hard one.” A lopsided smile struggled across his lips, but the rush of flames catching propane was my only answer.