Page 6 of Losing Forever
That would be a definite no. I always hid in my room when Noah had visitors.
“You met him that one time when your family came to stay with us. It was years ago. I was probably fourteen, so you would have been twelve or thirteen.”
I only visited their home in Winter Park once. It was as hot as a sauna. I spent most of the time cooling off in their pool. One afternoon, when I was floating on a raft, Noah and four of his friends jumped in for a swim. They forced me into a corner in the deep end and played football, tackling each other, and splashing me until my raft tipped.
I was mad but more upset about not being included in the game. So I waited in the deep end for one of the boys to miss the ball. A few throws later and the football flew over their heads, despite their jumping out of the water like dolphins to catch it. It flew right toward me, and I surprised myself by catching it like a pro.
Before I could let out a big cheer, four boys charged me in the water. The most beautiful one with the most beautiful eyes reached me first. I thought he was going to congratulate me.
His violet eyes tracked my features, and, for a moment, he looked shocked. It happened so quickly, I might have imagined it. I’m convinced now I did because he snatched the ball from my grasp and held it in the air.
“My ball. Our point,” he shouted.
I couldn’t believe it. If it weren’t for me, the ball would have landed on the pool deck, out of bounds.
Infuriated, I’d climbed out of the pool and stood near the edge, glaring at him. “Hey, shark boy! It's pretty low to steal a ball from a girl and claim it as your win.”
He shook his grown-out hair from his face and his violet eyes pinned me with a smirk.
I'd seen that look before from boys at my school back in Seattle. They would smile at me, act cool, and tell me I was pretty. They liked my face and my light-blue eyes. No one complimented my body like they did my close friend, though. She had boobs and hips. I was still wearing a padded A-cup bra and praying I’d grow out of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee.
The gorgeous turd with his insanely gorgeous eyes stood up in the shallow end, showing off his ripped body, which seemed too mature for his young age. “This isn't a game for toddlers. I saved you from getting hurt. Wait about two years and two cup sizes. Then you can play with the big boys.”
My face burns at the memory even now. He insulted me and my chest size—something that was out of my control—and blew me off without another glance. I wanted to get that ball again just so I could throw it in his handsome face. Argh. I still want to, and that happened eight years ago.
What is wrong with me? I don't get mad anymore. Sad? Yes. Guilt-ridden? Every day. But anger hasn't consumed me since I took a baseball bat to my car, smashing all the windows and denting every door and fender until I ran out of energy and breath. I couldn’t stand looking at the beautiful Lexus my parents bought me for my high school graduation. Its pristine condition mocked me because I was still alive while my family’s bodies and car had been mangled to shreds.
Don’t think about it. Focus on something else.
“Does Grayson have violet-blue eyes?” I ask Noah.
He doesn’t answer.
I turn in my chair.
His desk is empty.
Without getting up, I scan the hallway and two offices that flank either side. Empty.
At the front of the office, I find Noah at the receptionist counter. His elbows rest on the granite surface as he leans toward the pretty blonde sitting behind the desk.
Caitlyn is my age, I think. She started the same week we did. Uncle Brady thought she'd be a good addition to the new team. I think she’s a gift from Noah’s dad to help him adjust. Seems to be working.
Maybe this Grayson will be a good addition to the team, too. As long as he’s not the douche with the violet eyes, everything should be fine.
4
Grayson
“Iforgot how beautiful it is here,” I say to Noah and bring my coffee mug to my lips for a sip.
His parents own the waterfront home and use it during the summer. They’re letting us stay here so we can focus on the business and not have to find a place to live.
I take in the view beyond the sliding glass doors and wooden deck. We’re on the second floor, which is the main level. The house is built on stilts. Below, the pool deck leads to a thin dock that trails through mangroves and ends on the Intracoastal Waterway.
The dock is larger out there, with three boat slips. Only one houses a boat, though. Three wave runners fill up the middle slip and the third is used for fishing.
Beyond the dock, the St. Joseph Sound stretches to Honeymoon Island State Park and the Gulf of Mexico. Purple and blue streak the morning sky as the sun rises above the ocean.
