Page 9 of Double Trouble

I can still feel her hand around my waist, her fingers squeezing tight, my skin heating and my heart skyrocketing to Jupiter. I swear it’s still up there, dancing around the different moons and stars and comets, having a good ol’ time.

I let out a giant sigh, and Hawk gives me a look, his ears tilting from the unexpected breath in this face. He doesn’t get me this happy so often. He can handle a little bit of breath and should really appreciate all these scratches and butt rubs.

I got Hawk after a pretty bad breakup, actually. He was wandering the streets outside my parents’ place, and I was on my way from my then-girlfriend’s house. For the first time since I left Troublemakers, my smile starts to fade.

I for sure was in love with Lydia. I was seventeen, but I knew it. My world revolved around her, and my purpose was to make everything easier for her. I was okay with it—Iwantedto do whatever I could to make her happy.

We met during a swim meet for the school. She was there for her brother, and I was there for yearbook committee, back when I took still shots more than recording on my Sony. I caught a glimpse of the gorgeous redhead through the lens. I lowered the camera and plopped down next to her.

I was much bolder at seventeen. When I liked a girl, I told her. I did it at fourteen with my first girlfriend. Sixteen with my next girlfriend. And I did it right there at the pool with Lydia.

I remember her blush. I remember the giggle that escaped her, the roll of her eyes. I remember every digit of the number she scribbled on my forearm.

Hawk nudges my hand, and I get to scratching, my thoughts distracting me from giving him proper attention. Lydia and I dated for exactly three weeks and two days, and I fell for her hard and fast. She was adventurous and bold, too. I kissed her two minutes into our first date, and I remember her telling me she liked that. She liked that she didn’t have to think about if I would or when it would happen. So I did everything like that for her, taking chances and throwing out the normal relationship rules.

The night I told her I loved her, she was reclined on her couch in the basement, sitting two cushions away from me. My dumbass didn’t see that obvious hint that she wanted space, only that her hair was thrown into a messy bun from her earlier jog. She was in a pair of sweats and a tank, and I thought how it was so great she was comfortable around me so quickly. I convinced myself it was the first sign of a forever love, and going with my bold theme, I threw it out there.

“I love you,” I said, and her shoulders tensed, her eyes dead focused on the TV in front of us.Shameless. That was the show playing on the screen.

When she paid me no attention, I figured she didn’t hear me. So, I said it again.

“I love you, Lydia.” I scooted onto the cushion separating us. She audibly gulped, her gaze dropping to her lap. She ran her thumb over the remote clutched in her left hand, her nail catching on the volume down button.

“Tanner, we need to break up.”

I thought she was kidding. Hand to God, I laughed like a complete fool and tried to give her a kiss. The moment she jerked from me, my heart shattered, and splintered pieces tore through my gut.

After an hour, she sent me home, and I replayed what she’d said over and over. “You’re too fast. You love too hard. You do too much. You think too little.” So many toos, and the worst thing was that she was right.

Every girl after that, I realized just how true those words rang. With every subsequent relationship, I got less and less bold, less and less “too much,” until I rested here, nowtoo afraidto do anything.

A year and a half ago, I thought I was in love with another girl—Candace. And I told myself every day, “Ask her out, Tanner. Do it today. Today, damn it.” And it got pushed off every time until I was far too late. It worked out; Candace and Pete are a much better fit, and I’m sure I would’ve realized that eventually, but it hurt.

Mad was slower… It wasn’t a sudden infatuation. I didn’t fall in love with her the moment I saw her. Instead, I thought she was cool, then I thought I really like this girl, then I realized I could date this girl, then it hit me during one of her flawless runs that I’m head over heels, and if I let her slip through my fingers, I’d be a real dumbass.

I shift a hand out from underneath my head and grab for my phone. No more of this waiting for the right moment shit. I will ask her out. Pick her up. Hold her hand. Board. Kiss her goodnight.

Before I can open up my messages, a text comes in. My faded grin reappears when I see Brink across my screen.

Thanks for looking out. Boarding cures all!

That it does, and I tap the message open, taking another deep breath that annoys my grumpy old cat. The blinking cursor stares at me, and my heart plops back into my chest from its Jupiter journey. It’s on a high still, and the fear of rejection is fresh and right up there on the surface of my memories thanks to my trip. Hawk himself is a reminder of that night. The guy was on the sidewalk during my board-ride home, mewling at me until I picked him up and gave him a good scratch. No collar or tag… just a stray, I assumed then and later found out was accurate. When I put him down, he hopped on my board and hitched a ride with me.

I want to tell Maddie I love her, but that’d be too soon. I want to tell her how incredible I think she is, how smart and talented and funny and caring… but that would be too much. I want to tell her I want to spend every free second I have with her, but that would be too fast.

Yeah, I think I’d rather relive the hug tonight. There will be plenty of chances to ask her out in person over the next week with me sneaking her in.

For now, I’ll respond with short and sweet.

Anytime.

I wonder if she knows how much subtext was in that one little word.

If only it was legal to board at a mall. The place is riddled with spots to grind and ollie and just cruise. There’s a pep in my step as my sister and I head to Claire’s, her favorite place in the entire world.

“This is so much better than Troublemakers,” Demi says as she skips through the open doors, stopping at a display of Beanie Boos. She’s drawn to the koalas, of course. It’s her favorite animal, and she’s got a roomful of them already because Pete and I are suckers and will buy one if we spot it.

“Troublemakers is a literal amusement park,” I argue. How dare she bashmyfavorite spot?

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