Puddle Jumping(4)

Rory eventually found me in the campground and tried to hang out a couple more times, but I always made an excuse to not be anywhere around him. I even went so far as to spend time with my dad.

He handed me a note the last day we were there, giving me his phone number and asking me to call him. Asking me to be his girlfriend.

But it wasn’t right.

That’s the way it went for the next two years. I met a lot of guys who I thought were nice enough, but they never sparked anything other than platonic interest from me. I focused on being friends with guys, helping Harper get her fill of attention from willing participants in her kissing games. I just didn’t care. Boys were fun, but they were more fun to hang out with. And yet, I constantly felt like there was some sort of unexplainable void inside me.

Something was missing.

You know that feeling like you forgot something? When you pack for a trip and it’s not until you’re on the plane that you realize you left one of your most important possessions, like your iPhone, back at the house? Yeah, you do. I carried that feeling around with me for years. Years.

Then, during the summer I turned fifteen, I found what I’d been looking for.

One afternoon, my mom dropped me and Harper off at this weird little craft fair held in the next county over. I was just psyched to get to eat funnel cakes. She, on the other hand, was on the prowl for cute boys. We wandered through some of the exhibits, and while I was more interested in the cool stuff people were creative enough to make, she wasn’t.

Her long blond hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she’d purposely worn this denim skirt that pretty much showed her underwear that my mom had tskd at in the car ride over. She was working on a sucker like she’d been paid to do candy-porn and was as bored as I’d ever seen her. Her blue eyes were rolling as she turned the corner in a tent full of Native American jewelry.

“Let’s go. Call your mom to pick us up. This suuuuucks.”

I laughed and shook my head, letting go of the tissue paper flower I’d been studying. “We just got here.”

“And I’m already bored.”

“Fine.” I turned to lead her toward the exit when I saw a crowd of people surrounding one of the exhibits. It was brightly colored and there was artwork hanging everywhere in and around the tent. Suddenly, I wasn’t so interested in leaving. Because right smack-dab in the middle of the crowd was none other than Colton Neely.

He’d grown up considerably. His hair had turned much darker than the last time I had seen him, but I recognized his eyes, even from several feet away.

They put Rory’s to shame.

I was sucked into this weird-ass vortex where I couldn’t take my eyes off him, but was too scared to approach because what if he didn’t recognize me?

Trying to play it cool, I slipped through the crowd and pretended to be interested in the artwork hanging in and around his tent. It was impressive enough to warrant my attention, don’t get me wrong, but just being within ten feet of him made my fifteen year old hormones shoot straight through the roof. From the conspicuous side-eye I was giving him, I could see he was so much more attractive than the little boy who’d saved my life all those years ago. He was taller and leaner, almost too thin. It made my heart hurt to be so close and not speak to him.

Harper finally found a guy to talk to and I was thankful for her sudden departure so I could walk around Colton’s exhibit. It was beautiful and I couldn’t help but smile as I passed some of his paintings.

And then . . . like crazy radar in my brain, I stood in front of one spectacular piece, just floored by how gorgeous it was. Thick lines of paint covering every last inch of canvas, running together to create new colors and hues I’d never seen before. I just stared, my mouth probably open in an embarrassing look of quiet disbelief.

That’s when I heard him speak next to my ear. “Lilly?”

I have to admit, the sound of his voice made my insides nosedive like an unsteady paper plane. I turned around and gazed into his face and smiled. Probably way too big. “Hey, Colton.”

God. Do you have any idea what was going on inside my body? It was like Christmas lights dropped in a puddle of water. I felt electrocuted by his gaze. Those eyes, still so trusting, still so observant, raked over my face just to stare silently.

“These are awesome.” I tried to compliment him. But he didn’t seem to be affected by my praise. “Are you selling them?”

Yes, stupid question. I was young and intimidated by a cute boy.

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

Ah, yes. I always was a conversationalist at heart.

It was about that time Mrs. Neely called and waved him over to a potential buyer and I was left standing like an idiot, trying not to lean against anything and take the entire tent down with me in the process. At just the moment I had decided to leave, he suddenly appeared by my side again, his face scrunched.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

Like I would say no. My brain was completely fried in front of him.

We snuck around behind the back of the tent and between the other vendors until we’d reached the edge of the woods. About fifty feet away were the train tracks that ran through the area. I’d never paid much attention to them before, but after that day, the sound of a train whistle would always remind me of that day.

“How have you been?” I asked, looking at the trees around me instead of at him because I felt suddenly really insecure.