Page 61 of Holiday Love
You used to talk about saving people.
“Honestly?” I shrug, feeling weirdly exposed. “I don’t know. I said it spur of the moment, to get him off my back, but since then…I can’t stop thinking about it.”
For the first time since our kiss, Helen meets my eyes. “I think it’sperfectfor you.”
“Really?” I blink, surprised by her confidence. “How so?”
“You get to be out in the ocean every day, which you love. You get to be useful, which I know you like because you light up when you’re helping me learn to be more social or to ride a surfboard. You’d get to be active, like when you’re surfing or working behind the bar, which totally suits you. I can’t see you as a sit-all-day-at-a-desk, cubicle type of guy.” She stops, sucks in a deep breath.
I stare, speechless because…wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt soseen.
“Yeah,” I say after a long beat. “That’s kind of what I was thinking too, but you explained it better than I ever could.”
She nods once. “I get you.”
Crap. She totally does.
That’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
“So?” Impatient, she grabs my phone out of my hand and moves onto her back to read what I’ve pulled up. Knees bent and arms extended. Her hair spills over the pillow in silky waves. I want to touch it, to wrap it around my fist, so badly that my fingers twitch, but I don’t move.
It takes her a few efficient swipes and searches before she informs me, “Looks like you don’t need a college degree, just a high-school diploma.”
“That’s good,” I say stiffly, my eyes darting to all her trophies, to her diplomas on the top shelf. Something in me wilts.
She keeps scrolling, oblivious. “There are some physical requirements—push-ups, sit-ups, running—but that shouldn’t be an issue. You’re…” She pauses. Her voice catches slightly. “You’reveryphysically fit.” Her gaze slips to my chest and sticks there for a second too long. She swallows. Color blooms in her cheeks.
Just like that, something in me straightens. A sliver of pride returns, and for one stupid, reckless second, I wonder what would happen if I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. If I rolled over and kissed her again. Would she let me? Would she like it?
Instead, I stare at the ceiling and try to play it cool.
“Yeah, well,” I mutter, “push-ups I can do.”
She hums in agreement, her eyes back on the phone. “The last thing is a test. The ASVAB.”
“The what?” I lean in to see where she points on the screen, and my shoulder brushes hers. We both stiffen but don’t move away.
“The Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. You need a score of at least 32.”
I pull away and flop back onto my pillow. “Well, that idea was fun while it lasted.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ll fail that test. I’mterribleat standardized tests, always have been.”
Helen sits up straight and glares at me, her eyebrows in a straight line. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know what’s on it yet.”
I sink into the mattress, wishing it would swallow me whole. Defeat swirls around me, suffocating, so heavy it makes my shoulders slump and my heart sink. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can,” she argues. “You just need to study.”
The weight of the day—her mom’s sickness, her father hating me, that kiss—it all hits me at once. Frustrated and overwhelmed, I snap, “No,I can’t. I’m not like you, Helen. Not like Gwen or my brother Brandon. There’s a reason why I haven’t graduated from college. That I don’t have a career.”
“What reason?” Her voice rises to match mine.
“Because I’m dumb.” The words rip out of me, raw and ugly. “Okay? Is that what you want to hear? It’s the truth. I get by on charm and luck. That’s it. Not intelligence.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” She’s practically yelling now. It’s a good thing her parents’ bedroom is a floor above us. If her father heard how angry she sounds right now, he’d be charging in here ready to end me. He’s a doctor. He probably knows a hundred ways to kill me and make it look like an accident.
