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Authors: Jolene Perry

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BOOK: Spill Over
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Bad
timing.

“Long enough to drive all the way to the airport, hang out in Seattle
, and carry her to your boat w
ithout calling?”
Why does Amber have to be so impossible to read? Is she mad? Really mad? Hurt? Frustrated? I don’t know how to tell.

“Shit. I should have ca
lled. I didn’t know what to say.

My heart’s hammering so loud, I’m worried I won’t hear her if she says anything to me.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Amber steps around me and starts up the ramp.

I can’t very well yell with
Hélèna
in my arms. “Amber please. She’s just a friend.”

She spins at the halfway point, her eyes narrow. “Oh, I remember the arrangement you have with
Hélèna
.”

“Amber…” I start toward her. But the whole damn situation is ridiculous. I can’t very well chase one girl while carrying another.
Shit
.

Amber slams the metal gate doo
r behind her
,
and I continue to D
ad’s boat. It’
s all I can think of to do.

Getting up
the back of the boat is tricky. I
t’s a good thing
Hélèna
’s so small.

I kick the door a couple times before Dad opens it up.

“Some help?” I ask.

“Oh.” His brows go up. “Is she okay?”

“She can’t sleep on planes, and I know she’s been traveling forever. She also had too much to drink at dinner.”

“How did she manage that?”


She’s older than me
.
Twenty-one.”
I
carefully step down the stairs
and lay
her on my bed, next to Louis. There’s nowhere else on the boat that trunk would fit.

“Antony.” She rubs
her face. “Aides-moi avec mes vê
tements.”
Help me with my clothes.

I ignore her request, take off her
ridiculously high heels
,
and slide the blankets over her.

“Merci.”

“Bonsoir.” I touch her hair before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind me. 

“Well…” Dad breathes out.

“That’s
Hélèna
.”
Stupid thing to say since it’s pretty obvious.

“I guessed.”

“I’ll be right back.” I take two steps to the door.

“Where you going?”

“I ran into Amber on the way here.”

“Carrying
Hélèna
?” His brows go up.

“Yeah.”

He nods. I run.

I
knock on her boat door first. No
one’s there. I scan the parking lot,
but
she isn’t there
either. I start toward the coffee
shop.
I’m not sure what time it is, or if they’re still open.
Amber’s walking with
Kent
and Brit.

“Hey!”
I throw my hands up in the air
as she turns around
. I swear just speaking French with
Hélèna
for a few minutes
brings it all back.
The French asshole guy stuff.
“So, did this happen before or after?”
I gesture between her and Kent.

“Before or after
what
?” Amber puts he
r hands on her hips. “You not
call
ing
?”

Shit.

“I don’t know why you think you’re better than me in this situation!” She’s just standing there, with stupid Kent, and his stupid grin that I really want to punch off his face.

“I didn’t know she was coming!”
We’re thirty feet apart on the sidewalk. Half of me wants to grab her and kiss her the way I always want to kiss her, and the rest of me wants to turn around and walk away from the work and exhaustion and the wholesomeness that’s Amber.

“Well I planned this study session, for Biology, a class you’re not in, over a week ago!”
Her face is in a true scowl now.

I rub my hands r
oughly over my face. “Amber, I just want to talk for a minute.”

“We’re going to study, Antony.” She lets out this long, exhausted breath that makes my stomach sink. “You and I can talk tomorrow.”
She turns and they continue up the street.
Together.

“Tomorrow,” I say.
If I live that long.

- - -

“Looks like you’re in a pickle.” Dad chuckles as I step back into the boat.

“It’s just…
I don’t…” I have no idea what to say.

“Sorry.” Dad’s arm goes over my shoulders. “I didn’t mean to make light. You do realize how many guys your age would die to have two beautiful girls after them, right?”

“Only because they don’t know what it’s like.”
I press my fingers into my eyes, as if the pressure will force some brilliant idea to come to mind.

“You’ll do the right thing. You’ll figure it out.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us thinks so.”

“I’m guessing you’ll take the couch tonight?”

“Definitely.” And there will probably be very little sleep involved.

“Night, Antony. L
et me know if I can get you anything.”

“A drink?”

He frowns. “I don’t mind a drink once in a while, but don’t
use
it. Make sense?”

“Makes sense. I’m gonna try to crash.” Guess that means no drink.

I lie in bed
feeling torn.
I shouldn’t be torn. I know how I feel about Amber.
It’s deeper. I
t’s
more
. I
t’s different.
But Hélè
na and I have this connection, too. I miss my old life, a lot. More than I realized. I like how polished she is. Maybe the difference is that Amber makes me work, and at the same time, she
doesn’t
make
me work. I want to do it. To do what it takes to be with her.

Amber is exciting in a completely different way. I would always feel like
Hélèna
was only half with me. When Amber’s in the same room as me, she’s completely there, with me.
Maybe that’s really all the answer I need.
I pull my phone out.

MISS U

And hit send.

R U SURE U HAVE THE RGHT GIRL?

That one hits my gut. She’s mad.

ABSOLUTELY SURE

K -
SEE U TOMORROW

TOMORROW. AND I DO MISS U

THX

 

Will that short interch
ange help me sleep? Probably not
.

I lie back and close my eyes. Nope. Not going to help me sleep.
My body refuses to let go of the tension.
I stand up and go to my room to crack the door.
Hélèna
’s unmoved from where I left her. Why is she here? If she was going to come because of Mom, I’d have seen her in New York. I’m not sure why i
t suddenly feels weird that she made the trip
, but it does.
It’s both like and unlike her to just drop in this way.
She never plans too far ahead, but it also feels like she’s looking for something.
Hopefully it’s not me.

             

 

 

 

 

 

Eigh
teen

 

How
Hélèna
manages to crash and still look practically perfect
while sleeping
is beyond me.
I’ve been up for a while, and she hasn’t moved. This buys me some time to find Amber and try to explain something I don’t understand.

She’s not on her boat. She’s not at the
coffee place. As I wander back
down to the docks I notice her truck is gone. My chest sinks. Great.
             

Now I guess I’ll
have
to face
Hélèna
, who I also don’t know how to talk to, or even how to be around since most of our normal activities are sort of off-limits.

I send Amber another text.

PLEASE CALL OR COME BY AS SOON AS YOU’RE BACK

I wait and wait, but get no response.

Perfect.

I sit on a bench in the parking lot, trying to pretend I just like the bench and not that I’m desperate for Amber. But I sort of am.
I’m being stretched and pulled in too many directions to make a good decision about anything. I know it’s rude to leave
Hélèna
alone on the boat, but I still don’t know what to say to her or how to handle her, or if I can even say “handle” when
I’m
talking about a girl or if it’s something I should be giving myself a bl
ack eye over
.

And then there’s Amber who I just want to hold and force to understand how I feel. But I can do neither because we’re not in a great place for talking, much less holding. What sucks is that I have no idea how Amber’s feeling because I’ve never felt that way, but I do know I made her unco
mfortable and that me carrying Hélèna
didn’t help things any.

If Mom was here, she’d know what to t
ell me, but I can’t think about Mom. I
t starts churning around all the stuff I’ve been shoving away.

At somewhere between one and two in the afternoon, I give up and go back to the boat.

Hélèna
steps out of the room as I come in, stretching her lean arms over her head.

“Bonjour.” She blinks a few times in sleepiness.

“Bonjour.”


You look confused,” she says.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I’M DONE RUNNING. IN TOWN.


I’m sorry.”
I look frantically between
Hélèna
and the door, feeling desperate to get back out.


I’ll take a shower. See you in a few.” She gives me a small wave.

My mouth’s open like an idiot, but
no explanation
about Amber
come
s out.
I sprint out of the boat in hopes to catch
her before something else gets in our way
.

- - -

“Amber! Wait up!” I finally find her on my way back down. I’m sweaty from
running
up the hill, and out of breath from both panic and
my short sprint
.

“Hey.” Her voice sounds so sad and tired, and once again I wish she’d let me hug her and push it away.
             

“I want to talk. Please.” I’ve said please more to this girl than probably anyone else in my whole life
,
aside from Mom. And really, it’s not fair since I was around Mom all the time.

“Alright.” She sighs. “Let’s talk.”

Great. She agreed. Now what?
“Let me just say the worst thing first.”

“The worst?”

“She kissed me at the airport. I mean, it was her, and I didn’t have a chance to think or…”

“And you kissed her
back
?”

It seemed a little bad at the time, but not horrible. What am I doing? “It’s just that. I forgot. I mean.” I run a hand through my hair. “I can’t even remember the last time I picked her up or she picked me up that we didn’t kiss that way, and she just did, but I totally pulled back…”


After
kissing her.”
Amber crosses her arms as we walk, and pushes her legs faster.

Shit. I’m losing this one. Another one. Why the hell do I keep trying so hard?

“Amber! W
ait dammit!” I jog
up behind her.

“I don’t have the energy for this right now.” She stops and lets out a breath.

“I didn’t invite her. She
probably
thinks I’m crazy, but I haven’t touched her. Please, please, let me just talk.”

“Aside from the kiss.
You haven’t touched her aside from the kiss.
” Her hands on her hips. Her jaw is tight.
She swallows. She’s thinking.
She’s not running away.
“It comes down to meaning or not meaning to do things, Antony. Remember?”

Shit. I do remember. That was me lecturing her over Kent.
“I feel pathetic. I know I’m
not perfect.
I know I’m like, probably a disaster for someone like you, but…”
but I’m more desperate for you all the time
.

BOOK: Spill Over
12.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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