Puddle Jumping(3)

His trust of me must have taken a nosedive the day I tried to teach him how to mattress surf down the stairs, but since he was being so adamant about not participating, I decided to show him exactly how much fun it could be. I got onto the mattress backward, staring him in the face as I pushed off the top stair and started to head backward down the stairwell. Except . . . the mattress didn’t come with me.

Not at first, anyway.

I rolled onto my back and went head first into the corner next to the front door and hit my head so hard it gave me a concussion. Colton had to push the mattress off me because it was only five seconds delayed behind my limp body. And then he started screaming for our moms and they called another ambulance while they freaked out. I threw up green hot dogs or something crazy on the way to the hospital. Once I was coherent enough to speak to her behind the flimsy blue curtain in the ER, I assured my mom it was my fault.

Funny enough, she believed me.

That time, when Colton and his mother came to see me in the hospital, it was to announce I was no longer going to be invited over on Wednesday nights. And they were changing churches.

It took all of that for her to realize I was incapable of keeping myself out of harm’s way. Amazing.

Anyway, Colton had stayed even more quiet than usual, and he’d barely looked at me the entire time he was there. But before he left, he’d given me another picture. And let me tell you, this one was even more beautiful than the one before because it was a page full of nothing but color.

He’d scratched at his hair hidden beneath his favorite baseball cap and whispered, “Bye, Lilly.” I’d given him a final wave, knowing deep in my heart it was probably going to be the last time I would see him for a very long time.

I was pretty much right. Mrs. Neely had been talking to my mother out of what she assumed was earshot, but I could still hear what was going on. At the time, her words didn’t make much sense. Although, they do now.

Because it took me another five years to figure out exactly what was so different about Colton Neely and why his mother was so upset that she couldn’t find a playmate for him.





When I was younger, I always thought everyone was the same. So it didn’t really faze me all that much that Colton kind of just faded away. He was someone I hung out with for a few weeks and then he just . . . wasn’t. He became another kid I once knew.

A few years passed and I didn’t think about him anymore. Harper and I moved on from playing like tomboys to paying attention to boys. She would flirt and I would laugh at how obvious she was. But beneath it all, I really wished I had her kind of confidence, which I sincerely lacked.

It wasn’t until my parents forced me to go on a camping trip that I realized I was capable of getting the attention of boys, too.

It turns out I didn’t like it much.

I’d fought them tooth and nail; because I just wanted to stay home and read books or watch television, or hang out with Harper or anything else other than spend time with my family. I’d sulked the entire way there, my earbuds in and a scowl on my face, annoyed I wasn’t an adult and able to make my own decisions.

While they went and took nature walks, I wandered over to the beach with a book in hand and my headphones, hell bent on getting some sort of tan because I was practically translucent. But instead, I met a boy named Rory. He was splashing in the water, clearly having a good time with what turned out to be his younger sister. She was less than impressed and whining about being in the water, but I couldn’t help notice how cute it was that they were playing together.

Apparently, I caught Rory’s eye because he kept staring at me. At first, I figured it was my scar, as I’d grown increasingly self-conscious about it as I got older. But he wasn’t looking at that. He was watching me like a stalker.

You know what I mean. That kind of uncomfy stare that makes you shift around and turn in random directions to make sure there isn’t some freakishly good looking supermodel sitting behind you grabbing a male’s attention. I kept moving around on my beach towel, convinced this cute, tan boy with shaggy brown hair wasn’t staring at me. But he totally was.

Eventually it got hot and I waded out into the water, only to be hit by a spray of wetness coming from the pissed little sister of said cute boy whose gaze I was half-heartedly avoiding.

“Penny, apologize to her.” He’d pointed in my direction and I froze because he was actually paying attention to me and it caught me off guard.

I waved my hand and shook my head. “It’s okay.”

He waded over and smiled, running his hands through his hair and it was then I realized he had these really light green eyes. I had never seen anything like it in my young teenage life. They were breathtakingly clear, and with his tan, they stood out even more. It may have been the first time I ever felt my heart flutter, but there was also a weird sort of reaction in my stomach that felt a lot like queasiness.

He introduced himself and we spent the next couple hours ignoring Penny and talking in the water. Then, right before it was time to head back to my tent, we walked over to my beach towel and I realized sweet Rory . . . was sporting a raging boner.

In his swimming trunks.

It was pointing directly at me and I swear to the good Lord in heaven above it scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t help but stare at it with wide eyes and an open mouth, trying not to point.

Instead, I packed my stuff in a hurry and rushed back to the safety of my tent and wondered if all guys were like that. If I was doomed to a life of uncontrollable hard-ons and pretty boys with light green eyes who pointed their sticks at me with wild abandon.