Some Kind of Normal

“I’m?”

That slow grin was back, and if my stomach tumbled before, it was now spiraling out of control. Whoosh. Not an entirely pleasant feeling, and in fact, I didn’t like it at all.

“You’re more complicated than that.”

I laughed nervously. “I’m not complicated at all.”

He grinned. “Well, lucky for me, I’ve got the entire summer to figure out if you are, in fact, a bitch or just a complicated girl who was having a bad day.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I exhaled and glanced back up at the moon as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Oh no. Nope. That was so not going to happen. I did not need someone like Trevor Lewis on a mission to figure me out.

Mostly because there was too much that had to stay hidden.

Chapter Five

Trevor

It was Thursday afternoon. Everly and I (I couldn’t call her Ever, just couldn’t) had finished discussing due process of law and procedural due process of law, oh, and let’s not forget about substantive due process of law. We were slowly making our way down an impressive list of things that she’d organized, and even though my brain was pretty much fried, I kind of liked this stuff. I just hoped that it stayed where it was supposed to stay. Deep inside my brain for when I’d need it later.

The nagging headache I’d woken up with was still hanging around, but whatever. I’d learned to deal with a lot more than a stupid headache in the last year, and it was totally worth the pain, just so I could be here and watch Everly.

Something about this girl intrigued me. Was it her smile? The way her eyes got really dark when she was concentrating and that little frown appeared between her brows? Was it the way she chewed on the end of her pencil (like now) when she was thinking?

Was it the fact that she’d punched Brett Smith in the throat and threatened to kick him in the gonads?

Or was it the fact that there was a piece of her hidden away? I’d felt it Monday night, and I felt it now. It was in everything that she wasn’t saying, and everything she wasn’t saying filled the silence up with little mysterious pieces of her. It was those little pieces that I wanted to explore. It was those little pieces that made her different from any girl I’d ever met before.

We’d been studying all week and had fallen into a routine. I showed up at her place just before noon, and we’d head to the library to study. If she wasn’t meeting Hailey at the pool afterward, I’d drop her home around five.

We hadn’t talked about anything other than government. I hadn’t brought up the drive-in, and she’d not said a word either. Not even when she returned my Henley, smelling all fresh and full of Sunlight detergent.

But something was up today. She was distracted, and I’d caught glimpses of that sad look in her eyes.

My cell pinged and I reached for it, grimacing when I saw that it was Jess. For, like, the tenth time. She wanted to hang out later, but I…

I glanced over my laptop at Everly. She was gnawing on the end of a pencil again, tapping her fingers along the top of the table.

“Something up?” I asked.

Her head whipped up, and she studied me for a few moments and then shook her head. “No.”

“You sure?”

A nod.

“Yep.”

Huh. She wasn’t making this easy for me. I don’t want to sound like an arrogant dick or anything, but yeah, this is totally going to make me sound like an arrogant dick. I’m not used to having to work to make a girl like me. It’s just always been easy. Mom says that when I put my mind to it, I can charm the pants off anyone. Said I’d been doing it since the day I was born and Dad had to practically wrestle me from a

couple of enamored nurses. Something about my rosebud mouth.

Apparently Everly Jenkins hadn’t gotten that particular memo.

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked, watching her closely.

Everly’s eyes were dark again. She cleared her throat, which was a delaying tactic, one I’d learned she used a lot when she was trying to figure out what to say. Or more importantly, what not to say.