His Reverie (Reverie #1)(12)

I believe Nicholas Fairfield (I love his name!) is a beautiful person both inside and out.

How do I know this you ask? Because I watched him, first from my secret spot in the living room, in Daddy’s old chair that sits close to the window. The back of the chair is so high I can peek around it and see the backyard without anyone noticing me.

Nick definitely didn’t notice me. He was outside working around the pool. Taking the net and picking out every single leaf and bug floating at the top of the water, his dark brows wrinkled in concentration, his mouth scrunched. His mouth…I think about his mouth all the time. I have an unhealthy fixation on it. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like on mine.

Anyway. He was wearing khaki shorts that hit him just above his knees and a plain white polo shirt that was wrinkled. No little navy blue jockey on his chest, like what Evan wears and the rest of his friends. Only my brother can get away with being so completely materialistic while Mom insists I shop at Old Navy or Target or Walmart and nowhere else. She wears brand name stuff too, which makes me so incredibly mad. It’s unfair. I don’t know why they treat me this way. Why I can’t have the same privileges everyone else has.

Sigh. I need to stay on topic. So I spied on Nick cleaning the pool, my eyes constantly dropping to his legs. He has really nice ones. They’re kind of hairy but not in a gross way. No, more in a, I wish I knew what they felt like when they rub against mine sort of way.

(Oh my God if my parents ever threaten to search my room again like they used to all the time when I was fourteen and boy crazy, I must burn this book forever!)

Michael was with him and I know he likes to joke a lot. I couldn't hear what they were saying but Nick smiled and laughed. And shook his head constantly, which I totally get because Michael can say crazy stuff. I’ve heard him before. Anyway.

Nick’s smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He has nice teeth. And cheekbones. And jaw. I don’t think he shaved this morning. The sunlight would hit him just right and would highlight the golden stubble on his jaw and chin. Every time I thought about his stubble-covered cheek against mine a shiver went through me…

I have it so bad. This crush on him is...crazy. After about an hour of me playing spy, I finally worked up the nerve to go outside in my swimsuit cover-up with plans to take it off and lay on one of the lounge chairs, but I chickened out at the last minute. I skipped right by them like I was five years old, my sandal catching on a lone piece of bark on the concrete and I nearly went sprawling. Like, almost into the pool.

But Nick caught me. His strong fingers curled around my waist, stopping me from falling into the water. I was pressed against him and my skin sizzled where our bodies connected. I felt my face go hot with embarrassment. Then he said to me, his voice all low and deep,

“Better watch it, Daydream.”

I wanted to swoon. Seriously, just fall into a heap on the ground and hope like crazy he’d pick me up again. When he calls me Daydream, I just melt a little inside. It’s the way he looks at me too. As if he likes me. As if he thinks I’m pretty and not some idiot girl who trips over her own feet and can’t even manage to take off her cover-up to show off her boring, ugly, black one-piece swimsuit. The only suit her parents will let her wear.

I couldn't say anything back to him. Not really. Michael was watching us with this amused look on his face. Nick slowly let go of me, his fingers sliding against my skin in an almost caress. I rocked on my feet when he did that, a little shaky breath escaping me.

Then I said thanks and practically ran away from him. I worked up the nerve to look over my shoulder real quick to see if he was still watching me.

And he was.

I wanted to die.

Instead I jumped up and down in victory once I got out of his sight behind the house, punching the air with my fist. Mama caught me, the frown on her face marring her Botoxed forehead as she asked what in the world was wrong with me, direct quote.

She took all the wind out of my sails. She has a way of doing that so easily. I feel like sometimes she doesn’t like me much and I don’t know why. What did I ever do to her? I always follow the rules. I’m a good girl. I’m downright boring, just like they want me to be.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

I want to be enough for someone. For Nick. Nicholas Fairfield. I want to be more than enough because I think he could be enough for me.

I know he could.

So there it is. On June 30th, somewhere around 10 a.m. on the most perfect summer morning ever, Nick Fairfield touched me. Smiled at me. Called me Daydream.

I want to remember this moment forever.

8

Faith: confidence and trust in a person or thing.

July 3rd

I’m tired and the blowout for the Fourth hasn’t even happened yet. Well, the big one. Tonight is a small party for just the family and a few close friends, which in the Hales’ interpretation, that means about fifty people. It’s Mrs. Hale’s birthday. She’s turning forty so it’s kind of a big deal. I think she wants it to be a big deal but then again…

She doesn’t like it. It upsets her. Makes her feel old.

I only know this because Michael told me. He’s confessed a lot more to me lately. Crazy stuff that I find hard to believe sometimes but he says it so earnestly I kinda have to believe him. I mean…why would he make up shit like that?

And I like that he tells me so much even though I like to give him grief for the way he always talks. I feel like I actually have a friend again.