“Prepare to lose!”
I hit the sand three feet farther than him with a thud, and fall, not in any way gracefully, onto my butt.
“I won!”
“Yeah but it really wasn’t fair. You’re much lighter.”
“True. I’ll let you drive back. Because I’m nice and I like you.”
He stands, brushes sand off his jeans, and holds his hand out to me. When I grasp it, he effortlessly pulls me up, and I stumble into his chest.
“I like you, too.”
His voice, the sudden closeness… I’m a little breathless. I’ve never been this close to a man before. A boy, yes. But not a muscular, inked-up, sandalwood-scented-aftershave-wearing grown man with hands the size of my head.
I should’ve let go of his hand as soon as I was on my feet, but I don’t. I hold on to it for a few seconds, liking the warmth and the feel of his callused palm against mine.
After a few seconds, he gently squeezes my hand, then pulls his from mine. It’s a tiny, affectionate gesture, that squeeze. But us girls know what it is. A hand hug.
Chapter 7
Jude
The distinct sound of her car engine, and Elton John’s Tiny Dancer on full blast, announces Skylar’s arrival before I even see her pull into the school lot.
She glances casually at the house I’m working on as she gets out of her car, but she doesn’t see me way up on the roof. I wonder if the car gave her trouble this morning, because school started over an hour ago.
The weather has changed overnight, and a cool breeze has chased away the humidity. That might explain the funky, aged-brown-leather aviator cap and goggles sitting on her head. Two long braids flow from beneath the weird adornment, which, somehow, actually looks cool on her.
“Hey, Lucky!” Kyle yells from below. “Come check out the flooring.”
“Be right there.”
On my way down the ladder, something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. It takes me a few seconds to realize that what looks like a pile of clothes thrown on the sidewalk, is Skylar.
“What the—”
Tossing my hammer onto the ground, I sprint across the lawn and kneel down next to her on the sidewalk.
“Skylar?”
My blood goes cold when she doesn’t stir. She’s totally out.
Breathing, but out like a light.
“Hey…” I touch her cheek as my heart kicks up its rhythm. Her cute little hat has fallen off, and seeing it lying on the walkway next to her brings a lump to my throat. I nudge her arm. “Wake up, Sparkles.”
Her head turns. Her booted feet twitch. Slowly, her eyes open. She stares through me for a few seconds with boggled eyes until her focus finally returns.
“Wh-what happened?” she slurs, blinking.
“I think you passed out.”
I help her sit up, but she immediately sways and grabs on to my arm. “I don’t feel too good.”
She doesn’t look too good, either. Her complexion is stark white. Dark circles shadow her eyes. Yesterday at the park she seemed so vibrant, but today is a totally different story.
“Did you take anything?” I ask.
“Take what?”
“I don’t know. Pills?”
Scowling, she rubs the side of her head. “I don’t do drugs, Jude.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Maybe. I feel really dizzy.”
Her eyes close and her fingers grip my arm tighter, as if she’s about to pass out again.
“I’m going to take you to the emergency room.”
She shakes her head. “No… I can’t go to the hospital.”
“Yes, you can. And you are.”
Kyle approaches with a hammer in his hand and looks from me to Skylar, still sitting on the sidewalk. “I’ve been looking for you. What the hell’s going on?”
“I think she passed out.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Not sure. I’m going to take her over to the ER. Can you take care of things while I’m gone?”
“Sure. Maybe you should call an ambulance?”
“No,” Skylar mumbles.
“Screw that,” I say. “It’ll take forever to get here. I can get her there faster if I take her myself.”
He nods. “Okay. Maybe you should call her parents, though.”
“Good idea.” I lean into Skylar’s line of vision. “Let’s call your mom and I’ll drive you to the ER. She can meet us there.”
Eyes closed, she shakes her head. “I’m eighteen. I don’t need or want her there.”
“But—”
“Please,” she whispers. “She won’t come anyway. Trust me.”
Kyle and I exchange a look. One that says we shouldn’t get involved. But I can’t just leave her here or let her drive herself. She can’t even stand up, let alone drive.
“Okay. Do you think you can walk to my truck?”
“I think so.”
I help her stand, but her legs wobble like noodles.
“I’m going to carry you,” I say, swooping her up into my arms before she can protest. “Dude, pick up her stuff for me,” I say to Kyle.
He picks up the hat, goggles, and book bag and hands them to her. “Thank you,” she says, leaning her head against my shoulder.