Page 10 of Crazy for You
He probably hated me, but I couldn’t worry about that.
“Wait,” he called. “I said please.”
I pivoted on my heel and shrugged. “Please isn’t enough, Colton. Like I said, I don’t lie to my dad.”
His jaw went slack. I got the feeling girls didn’t say no to Colton Caldwell.
I didn’t fall into that category, even though I might be tempted, given the way my belly was doing somersaults.
Nevertheless, I lifted my chin, mentally giving myself a high five for not caving. But the day was still young.
4
Iflopped on the bed, relieved that my first day of school was over. After I’d left Colton standing dumbfounded in the hall, I’d had a stomachache for like an hour, analyzing our exchange as if I was figuring out a complicated calculus problem.
The questions I’d formed as he drank me in had plagued me all day. Not only that, but I kicked myself for saying “have a good rest of your day.” I sounded like… I didn’t know.
Georgia and Mia had given me their two cents.
“He likes you,” Georgia had said.
“I agree, but you should test our theory,” Mia had added. “I think you should wear a sexy outfit like a miniskirt or a dress and do up your face.”
“You mean like Amanda?” I’d asked. The girl was a clothes whore, and I didn’t have the money nor the interest for wearing skirts or dresses. My shorts, tank tops, T-shirts, and Vans were it for me. The last time I’d worn a dress was to Mom’s funeral.
Nan poked her head in, severing my thoughts. “Your dad’s awake now if you want to see him.”
I lifted up to rest on my elbows. “I need to use the bathroom first.” I’d checked on Dad when I’d gotten home, and he’d been fast asleep. He didn’t spend much time in his wheelchair anymore. I imagined that before long, he would be in his bed twenty-four-seven.
She stepped deeper into my room, glancing around as she fiddled with some of the wispy brown strands that had fallen out of her hair clip.
My room wasn’t as cluttered with dirty clothes as it used to be. Since Nan moved in, I’d done a better job at picking up after myself. As part of her caregiving role, she did laundry for us twice a week.
She swung her gaze from my desk, which held a stack of my math and English books, to me before she sat on the edge of my bed.
I adjusted myself, hugging my knees to my chest.
Her gaze flicked to my elbow. “What happened?” She sounded deeply concerned, which only served to poke an old wound.
Mom had been just like her, always doting on me or afraid of me getting hurt when she would take me to the park. Mom hated when I went too high on the swings. “Skyler Lawson, you’re going to get hurt,” she would say.
I’d always giggled. “But Mom, it’s so much fun.”
I covered my elbow with my hand. “Fell off my board. It’s fine.”
“You’re going to break a limb one day,” she said.
“Possible. But it comes with the sport.”
She mashed her lips into a thin line. “Do you wear a helmet?”
I shrugged. “Sometimes.” I wasn’t a fan. Dad had ordered me to wear one several times, but it was too confining.
“You should all the time. Can I see? I want to make sure it’s clean.”
I scooted closer to her. “The school nurse took care of me.” But now that I wasn’t obsessing over Colton, a smidge of pain registered.
Gently removing the Band-Aid, she felt along the bone. “It’s swollen but doesn’t seem broken. Does it hurt?”
