Summer I Found You (16 page)

“Nope.”

I rub my hand up and down her back a few times. “So, I’m headed out.”

“Yeah. You said. Call me you know, if you want to, or…”

She feels bad, I can tell by the way her voice is quiet and the way she’s not looking at me.

I smile because I don’t want her to feel bad. She’s starting to become more than the distraction I was looking for. “Of course I’ll call you.” Oh wait. I pull my phone out. “Picture?” I know this kind of stuff is a big deal to girls.

She grins. “Yeah.”

We press our faces close like the pictures I make fun of, and I take the shot. As soon as I pull my arm down, I’m staring at her lips, and I’m not sure who started this, but we’re pressed together. Our lips together. I almost forget we’re on her parents’ porch before I slow the kiss to something that won’t get my ass chewed out by her dad.

I kiss her cheek twice more, even though I’m still feeling a bit confused about what she does share with me, and after talking to Jen, part of me wonders if there are other things I maybe should know.

“Gotta run.” I step back.

“See you.” She waves as I jog to my car.

I wave before shifting into drive, and grabbing the steering wheel.

Kate stands on her porch until I’m gone.

And I’m frustrated that this is so mixed. I mean, I think we’re okay, but I realize that I’ve shared a ton of stuff with her that I didn’t even intend to share, and she hasn’t said much outside of surface conversation. Is that normal? Am I not worth it? Does she not trust me? I’m realizing that at this point she has a lot more reason to trust me than I have to trust her. I’m definitely in new territory here, and that’s the last thing I need.

I’m outside of the company building sitting on a table in a covered park area with Butch and Roberts. They’re on leave so no one’s in uniform. It’s almost like it used to be. I have no idea if this makes me miss it more or less.

I still have too much stuff floating around in my head. School. Army. Now Kate. Future. No arm. Melinda Pilot.

The questions from the guys have been near constant ranging from touching girls to unhooking bras to driving with one arm.

“You can’t even light a fucking match!” Butch says as he sucks in another drag off his cigarette.

“Fuck you.” I shake my head, grab a match and light it on the concrete, tossing it at him once it’s lit.

“Go bother someone else.” Roberts shoves him.

Butch does this openmouthed cackling laugh before walking away. He’ll be back, and be as annoying as always.

“I hate that stupid fucker.” Roberts flicks ash onto the pavement.

“Yeah. I only had to put up with him in close quarters for six months. Not a whole year.”

“Not like you got out of it easy, Con.” Roberts tosses his cigarette to the ground and grinds it out with his boot.

I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this. Like it’s real, and not like we’re joking about left-handed masturbation. “No. Not easy.”

“Let’s go up. I’m in my own room now.”

“Right.
Sergeant
.” I give him a half-assed, left-handed salute before dropping my cigarette to the ground and stamping it out with my foot. I don’t smoke often, but when everyone around you gets a five-minute smoke break, you pick up the habit.

It’s weird being inside the company again. The painted tan, brick, hallways are the same. Stairs with chipping metal railings are the same. He’s on the third floor now. Single enlisted rooms. It’s almost like the one I shared with him before we left, only he’s not sharing anymore.

“So, how are things really?” He kicks his door shut, and the guy has the same game posters and Pink Floyd wall-hanging when we roomed together. It’s bizarre.

Only one bed in this room, though. But he’s got a small couch, TV, mini-fridge. Moving up in the world.

“Con?”

“Shitty.” That’s really the best word, and the easiest explanation. There’s way too much stuff to answer the question of how are things? I flop on his couch and he slouches on his bed.

“Girl?”

I pull up the picture of Kate and toss him my phone, glad I took it.

He catches it and his brows go up. “Damn, Connelly.”

“She’s too young.” I shake my head. “And…” But I don’t want to get deep. Not about her. It’s too new and I’m still confused about where we’re at with each other.

“But she’s hot. And not just a little hot, but smokin’ hot.” He leans forward and hands my phone to me—something he’d never do if I still had both arms. He’d have thrown the damn thing as hard as he could.

I nod.

“You like her?” He runs a hand over his nearly shaved head, and I suddenly feel weird about how long I’ve let mine get.

I nod again and keep my mouth closed.

“Know what’s next for you yet?”

“Nope.”

He doesn’t ask me anything else.

Roberts knows me well enough to know that I’m not ready to talk about any of this yet. I don’t want to talk about my life right now. My future. None of it.

“Tell me about the rest of the tour,” I say.

“Fucking lame-ass word. Tour.” He slumps against the wall. “Makes it sound like a damn vacation and it sure as shit wasn’t.”

I can’t agree with that more.

He tells me about the guys, and a girl he ran into who’s stationed at Bragg. She’s supposed to be home from Afghanistan in a month and he’s going to go out and visit her. We talk half the night about nothing important, drink a few beers, and at some point in time I fall asleep on the tiny futon. He doesn’t offer me the bed. We would have fought over it if I had both arms, and he knows damn well that offering the thing to me would be an insult.

Mostly I wonder if coming up here counts as checking something off my list, even though I know I didn’t talk about all the shit that Foster would have wanted me to.

Maybe next time.

T
HE WORLD FEELS DIFFERENT
in a million ways. First off, I used to feel like the last virgin in my senior class, aside from maybe Jen. Now I feel a bit…in the minority. I’m mixed on this one, but I’m okay with this because of Aidan and because the whole thing…Foreign. Familiar. Mostly him. His chest. His abs. The way his arm wrapped around me, and the feel of him sleeping behind me…

Okay. I’m distracted.

Second, Aidan left for a couple days the day after we had sex. Do I read into that? Do I not read into that? I’m hoping this is simply my neurotic self, thinking too much.

Deena’s given me this bizarre lecture a million times about it’s not that I had sex, it’s that I just jumped into bed with some random guy. But Aidan’s not random, and he’s also not just some guy. He gets life-changing situations. He gets how crappy and bizarre and uncertain your future is when you’re facing something you never expected to face. Also. Deena’s the one who kept saying I liked him. That, right there takes him off the “random” list. If there is such a thing.

All of these things are reasons that when Aidan gets home I’ll talk to him about my diabetes. The sucky thing is that he said,
please be honest with me
. And I froze up, and now, just like Jen and Deena said, what shouldn’t be a big deal, has the chance of being a big deal.

Deena and Lane are using my room, and I don’t even want to know if that’s what they’re doing in there.

No matter what, I plan on giving them space until one or both of them emerges. For now I’m parked on the couch with Mom and Dad in front of the TV, watching…I don’t even know what, but there are houses involved.

“About college.” Dad’s voice is way too careful for a casual conversation.

“Yes?” My heart’s already hammering. I don’t want to talk about college. I want to hang with Aidan. He’s been gone a day, and I want to be back in his arms, back in his bed, the world shut outside. Even just watching the lame program about houses would be better. Instead I’m about to get bad news. I can tell.

“With your health,” Mom continues. “I know you wanted to go farther away, but I think that for a year or two, it would be best to stick closer to home.”

“What?” This only came up when I was first diagnosed, and Mom was all worried about every single part of my future. Husband, kids, school, and I could tell that all she wanted was for me to be close. Preferably within sight or sound for every moment of my day. I thought we were past that. “Jen and I have plans. It’s all arranged.”

Dad scoots forward in his chair. “I know you really wanted to go to California, and I know there are good doctors there, but Kate, I don’t think you’ve had more than two weeks where you didn’t bottom out or have blood sugar so high that any normal person would have serious issues.”

“You can’t stop me. I’ll be eighteen.” Oooh. That was
not
a smart thing to say. That wouldn’t have even be a smart thing to
think
.

Dad’s jaw tightens before he speaks. “But I can refuse to pay for it.”

I’m about to jump up and scream or something. How can this be happening? Jen and I are supposed to go to school together in the fall. USC. Beaches. Warm weather.

“Kate.” Mom’s voice is the calm one this time. “I’m so scared for you. I’m scared about your health, and the fact that you don’t seem bothered is what has us most worried. I’m telling you that you need to make sure you’re ready to go to college here in the fall if you need to. If between now and when you have to give your final word to USC, you’re able to manage your diabetes, your father and I will support you.”

Dad’s whole body is tense, and I get the feeling that he wants me here for at least another year no matter what.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” I stand up. “I’ve had diabetes for a year. At any point in time you could have said that—”

“No, no, no.” Dad stands. “We warned you as soon as it was obvious that you weren’t taking your disease seriously that there would be major consequences including when and where you went to college.”

“I don’t believe this.” I move toward the hallway.

“We’re not done, Kate,” Dad says.

“We’re done for now.” I don’t want to ask what I need to do to go away because I don’t want to know. I don’t want to do it. I want out.

When will Aidan be back?

As I near my room I remember Deena and Lane are in there. Perfect.

“I want you to be excited, Lane.” Deena’s voice sounds pleading.

“How am I supposed to be excited, Deena? Timing really couldn’t be worse. On top of that, it’s kind of embarrassing that you’re pregnant right after we got married. Like we’re one of those weird people who doesn’t believe in sex before marriage or birth control.”

I want to slap that man. This is a side of Lane that I’ve definitely never seen before.

“You’re embarrassed of me?” And there’s the agitation that Deena’s voice should have. At least she’s not throwing up every minute any more.

“No.” His voice softens. “It’s the situation. It’s just…”

“Can we talk about something else?
Please?
I can’t keep having this conversation with you.” I know my sister well enough to know her irritation has turned to tears. “I’m pregnant. The baby is coming.”

“I know. It’s that I—”

“Just go. Please,” she pleads.

There’s silence between them and then my bedroom door opens to Lane who gives me a quick nod before heading to the living room.

I run into my room and pull my sister into my arms. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t realize you two were arguing like this.”

“I’m going to throw up.” She pushes away from me and runs for the bathroom.

Right now I don’t even know which is worse. My situation or hers. I flop on the bed without a solution to either.

Jen, Deena and I are on a girl movie binge. No word from Aidan, but I keep flipping the phone over and over in my hands.

“Call him,” Jen says. “You guys need to talk anyway, because you need to tell him—”

“No.” I shake my head. “I…” I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk to him about my stupid disease.

She rolls her eyes. “Please.”

“Kate. You slept with him. If you want to call.
Call
.” Deena’s eyes are wide.

“I don’t want to call,” I insist.
I want him to call me.
But he hasn’t. He’s probably busy. And anyway. I was the one who lied to him about my experience. Or, at least, didn’t tell him the whole truth. He seemed upset, which makes it scarier to call because I feel like I definitely screwed up a bit. It makes telling him about my diabetes not only something I don’t want to do, but a little scary because I’m not sure how he’ll react.

“You’re just being stubborn!” Deena leans forward. I haven’t seen her this animated since she got here.

“Can we leave it? I’m still in shock over Mom and Dad wanting me to stay here for college.” I’m mad about the whole thing. What’s the good of turning eighteen if my parents are still going to control everything I do?

“What if you agreed to the insulin pump?” Jen asks.

“What?” That came out of nowhere.

“You know how they’re always on about that. What if you said you’d do the insulin pump. Do you think you could come with me then?” Her wide blue eyes look almost pleading.

The thought of her going off to college without me sucks, but an insulin pump…

“I dunno,” I mumble. I can’t imagine having one of those. How awkward would it have made it to be with Aidan? Some electronic thing strapped to me. A small tube inserted in my skin. I shudder at how weird and gross that would be.
Attached
.

“I don’t think I can do it,” I say.

Jen sighs. Deena sighs.

“Okay, seriously.” I stand up. “Mom and Dad have already given me grief today. Can we finish the movie?”

I want to scream that I’m done talking about Aidan.

I’m done talking about diabetes.

I’m done talking about college.

I’m done talking to them.

Everyone’s faces turn pointedly toward the screen, but I’m not sure how much any of us sees. They’re supposed to be helping, and instead they’re making my life more stressful.

I
GET THE FAMILIAR LOOKS
from people on base—a mix of sympathy and knowing. They all know what happened to me—or their own version of it. A guy on a military base with a missing limb isn’t exactly a mystery. Instead of feeling their stares, I keep glancing at my phone wondering if I should drop Kate a text, or call her or if I should wait to hear from her.