Boys Like You(26)

11/19/13 10:02 AM

Juliana Ston e

Which I didn’t, so I don’t even know why that thought popped into my head.

He paused on the edge of bank, set the cooler on the ground, and peeled off his shirt.

My stomach did this weird dipping thing, but then why wouldn’t it? The guy could be a model for the Abercrombie cargos he wore, and the fact that they hung so low I could see his boxers again didn’t help.

It was almost worse than being naked, because it made a girl think of the unknown, and I shouldn’t be thinking of the unknown.

I shouldn’t.

Mostly because he was way out of my league— that’s if I was interested, which I wasn’t. I hadn’t dated any guy in a long time— not since Malcolm died— and I knew that getting close to Nathan Everets wasn’t a good idea.

So why was I thinking about it? Was it because, on some level, I knew he was unattainable? Was it because I knew Nate would never be interested in someone like me? A girl who was more damaged than he was? A girl with so much baggage she needed an extra set of luggage just to get her from day to day?

But if that was true, why had he brought me here? Was he just being nice? Or was he interested in someone who was different?

Someone new?

Why did I care?

God, I groaned, I’m such an idiot.

I joined him and stared out at the water, shaking my head 106

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when I spied a group of swans along the far side. Unbelievable.

Totally Nicolas Sparks.

“You like it?”

He grinned down at me and I nodded, wishing he’d put his shirt back on or something. I dropped to the ground and dug through the cooler, handing him a ham sandwich when he did the same. We popped open a couple of cans of Coke and ate in silence, there beneath the biggest oak tree I’d ever seen.

For a few moments, the awkward silence between us made swallowing my food difficult. I couldn’t think of anything to say, and the tension across my shoulders was starting to burn. I’m sure he thought I was an idiot.

I was an idiot. I should have just stayed home. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been alone with a boy in a very long time, especially a boy who made me feel things I wasn’t used to feeling.

I shook my head. My therapist would be all over this shit.

“How long are you here for, Monroe?”

Thank God. A question I could answer.

I wiped a crumb from my lap. “Till Labor Day weekend. My parents are coming from New York.”

“Right. New York. I’ve never been, but it’s on the list.”

“The list?”

“Yep. The list of places I want to go. LA is at the top and New York is running a close second.”

Huh.

“Trust me, it’s overrated,” I answered. I wished I didn’t have 107

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to go back. It if wasn’t for Kate and my parents, I’m not sure that I would.

“So do you go to a fancy school there in the Big Apple?”

I knew his eyes were focused on me, so I kept mine on the water, watching the swans slowly float in circles across the way.

“Yes,” I said finally. Glen Hill Academy.

I hate it there.

“Why do you hate it there?”

Startled, I turned to Nate— which was the wrong thing to do, because he was staring at me with an expression that felt as if he could see right inside me. I swallowed hard and croaked, “Excuse me?”

His eyes never left mine. They held me trapped as surely as if he had some freaky kind of tracking device like on those old Star Trek movies I used to watch with my dad. The ones that pulled in objects and never let go.

“You said you hated it there. I just wondered why.”

Shit. Had I said that out loud? What was wrong with me?

“It reminds me too much of someone,” I blurted, my heart picking up steam and banging inside my chest wall like a demented drummer. What the hell kind of power did this guy have?

Some weird expression crossed his face, and then he spoke softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well don’t be.” I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

Except it was. It was a very big deal. And it was a big deal 108

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that wasn’t going to go away, no matter how much I pretended it would.

It was the big deal that had broken me.

“Let’s go in,” Nate said abruptly, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand for me.

I glanced at the water again and then back up to him.

“You’re not afraid of the swans, are you?” he challenged.

“No,” I answered, ignoring his hand as I got up. A shiver rolled over me, which was odd considering it was so darn hot.

“Is the water clean?”

He’d chucked his sandals and had his hands on the waist-band of his shorts. My mouth went dry, and some stupid lump decided to clog my throat as I watched him begin to tug them down over his hips.

“What are you doing?” I squealed. I thought of his teasing earlier, and my alarm ramped up to about one million. There was no way I was gonna skinny-dip with Nathan Everets. No effing way.