Page 20 of Crazy for You
I growled under my breath. “Colton, wait,” I blurted. Dad had mentioned that maybe Colton could help me change the oil in my car, and maybe he could fix my skateboard too. “Can you stop by later? I have a proposition for you.”
Grady whistled as he met Colton on the track.
I held back the urge to flip him off, keeping my focus on Colton and no one else.
One side of Colton’s mouth turned upward, and a funny feeling pulsed between my legs.
Amanda snarled. “What could you possibly offer Colton with those flat tits of yours?” Her voice was so loud, I was sure the football coach could hear her from his spot on the field.
My middle finger popped up like a jack-in-the-box.
Georgia snorted.
I wasn’t the type to start fights, but I would in a heartbeat if it would shut her up. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Georgia came to my rescue. “At least her tits aren’t fake,” she fired down to Amanda.
Grady was clearly enjoying himself, wearing his normal irritating smirk.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Colton said to me.
Then Grady, Colton, and Amanda left.
“I so want to climb Colton like a monkey,” I mumbled.
Georgia busted out laughing. “You’ve been listening to Mia too much, but I agree. I wouldn’t mind either. So give me the deets. What’s your proposition?”
“My skateboard. Nothing more.” Oh yeah. My car too.
“Good plan.”
Now to shuck the nervous nellies.
8
Ideposited my bag at the door, and for some odd reason, my heart sputtered. I could feel the heaviness in the air. The house was normally quiet, given that Dad was in bed most days. But usually I could at least hear the TV.
I hurried toward Dad’s room as Nan’s voice floated out. “Breathe.”
Afraid to go in, I stopped short, gulping in air as if I were the one who couldn’t breathe.
Dad finally grunted out a choking sound and coughed again.
Instantly, tears burned my eyes. The neurologist had told us that choking was a major problem with ALS patients and one of the ways Dad could die.
Please don’t let this be the day. Please, God.
I rolled back my shoulders and dug deep for that courage Dad always said I had. No amount of bravery could quiet or stop the turbulent emotions swirling inside me.
Dad coughed hard.
“That’s it,” Nan said. “One more time.” Then the suction machine, a device that had been a lifesaver when food got lodged in his throat, whirred.
I flattened my back against the wall outside his door. A tear dropped, followed by another and another.
Dad gagged one last time.
The suction machine continued, and when Nan finally shut it off, she asked, “Better?”
