“Stop, Sierra,” I growled, surprised when she actually listened. Then I walked us back to the gazebo before plopping down on a wooden bench, not releasing her as she settled into my lap.
Her hair was wild around her face, and she wouldn’t look at me. Using my thumb and forefinger to lift her chin, I was taken aback to see her eyes swimming with tears. The vulnerability in them tore me apart. She’d never looked more beautiful. She’d never looked more heartbroken. I hated myself for it.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked, trying to sound teasing.
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s stupid. I blame the beer,” she said as she scrambled off my lap and started pacing back and forth in front of me.
Just as I was about to join her, she stopped and faced me.
“Look, I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I know you don’t see me the way other guys do, so of course it would be a surprise that the star quarterback would want to take me out. I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“Sierra.” I stood and approached her, but she took a step back before I could pull her into my arms. “That’s not true. From the moment I met you, you’ve been the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Hell, I remember running home and telling my mom all about you. I felt that way then, and I still feel that way now.”
I couldn’t believe I was actually admitting that, but hey. Extreme times called for extreme measures, and this seemed to fit the bill.
Tears glistened as she let out a disbelieving laugh. “And that’s the problem. You still see me as dirty eight-year-old playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The girl who played kickball, skinning her knees, and spitting into your hand. Which is okay. I’m not the girly-girl wearing skirts and worrying about having perfect makeup. I don’t flirt or act ladylike. At least, not to you. That’s not how we are. That’s not how we’ll ever be. I’m finally realizing that.”
I wanted to tell her that she was wrong. That I didn’t see her as an eight-year-old girl. That, even though I’d been a blind fool, my eyes had finally opened. I wanted to wax poetic about her long, beautiful hair and how much I loved running my fingers through it while watching our favorite shows. How the beautiful blue of her eyes was my favorite color and, if Crayola could capture it in a crayon, I’d buy every single box until I had a lifetime supply. And her lips. God, I wanted to profess how, ever since that day in biology, her lips had had me transfixed and I wanted nothing more than a taste. I hadn’t cared that there was dead frog cut open and splayed out on the table. The way she’d sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, gasping and cursing as she’d drawn blood, had thrown all my disgust over the frog out the window. All I could see was her. All I wanted was her.
I wanted to tell her all of that.
But I didn’t, and I would regret it for the rest of the summer.
“Sierra—” I began to protest, but she cut me off, giving me a warm, watery smile.
“It’s fine, Jeremy. I promise. I have no problem being the Tod to your Copper. Or the Joey to your Dawson. That’s who I am.” She hesitated for a moment. “That’s who I’ll always be. You’re my best friend, Jeremy. It’s okay that you don’t see my boobs. Hell, it’s probably better that way.”
My stomach plummeted, and if I was man enough to admit it, my eyes burned with an unexpected rush of tears. I stepped out of the sight so she couldn’t see me. She misinterpreted the move, but before I could find a single ounce of courage, she was waving goodbye and running into her house, leaving me there to watch her go.
Something I never wanted to do again.
It wasn’t until after Sierra had left for Ohio and I’d had a chance to reflect on her words that I realized what she’d said. Dawson and Joey, as of right then, weren’t even speaking. Copper and Tod had gone their separate ways, and even though their friendship remained, they were still apart for the rest of their lives.
I didn’t want to be Copper anymore. I sure as hell didn’t want to be Dawson.
But it was too late. I’d lost my chance. I’d missed my window. Sierra was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Jenna was right.
I was an idiot.
I was unbelievable.
I was blind.
And, worst of all, I was alone.
MY FINGERS TREMBLED AS I slipped into my new bikini. It was the first summer Mom allowed me to wear a two piece, and even though I was covered in all the intimate areas, I looked in the mirror and felt…sexy.
After having spent the last two months with my grandmother up north in Ohio, I was back in Navarre and getting ready to head to the beach to see all of my friends. While it had been nice to spend time with my family, I missed my friends. Most of all, I missed Jeremy, and even though we’d talked on the phone weekly, it just wasn’t the same. It was the longest we’d ever been apart, and I vowed to myself: never again. Needless to say, I was pretty eager to see him.
And slightly disappointed that I’d been home for almost an entire day and he hadn’t come by yet.
I was also eager to show the new me off. It was as if karma had overheard my last conversation with Jeremy and smiled down at me, blessing me in the most incredible fashion. Over the summer, I’d filled out in all the right places. I, Sierra Sullivan, finally had boobs. It’d only taken fifteen years. My hips were slightly wider, and I no longer looked like a string bean. The way the swimsuit clung to my curves made me nervous, but at the same time, it was empowering to look into the mirror and finally see a woman staring back at me.
I wondered if anyone else would notice.
Oh, who was I kidding? The truth was, I was wondering if—and maybe not-so-secretly hoping—Jeremy would notice.
I also feared that he’d found a girl over the summer. He hadn’t had me occupying all of his time, and even though he hadn’t mentioned anyone, Jenna had given little hints here and there that maybe he’d seen Heather Perkinson more than a time or two at parties.
Sighing, I fell back on my bed and thought about the boy who’d held my affections for as long as I could remember. Over the course of freshman year, things between us had started to change, and I had been seeing him in such a different light. I hadn’t looked at him as just my best friend. I had been looking at him as so much more. And, to be honest, it had terrified me. It’d also thrilled me. The contradictions had made my brain swim, and every so often, I’d throw out a line, hoping to get a little nibble, to see if Jeremy was the catch I was hoping he’d be.
Every time I thought he was feeling the same about me and about to act on it, he didn’t. I started to think I’d been imagining it all. That perhaps he didn’t return my feelings and maybe I was reading too much into his actions. So, when the opportunity to spend the summer in Ohio arose, I jumped at it, hoping a few months of separation would get my head back on straight.
Wishful thinking.
Being away from him for the whole summer had done little to squash my feelings. In fact, I think it had amplified them, and I had no idea what I was going to do about it. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if this whole thing was one-sided and, in the aftermath, it was too awkward to be around each other? Losing Jeremy’s friendship would kill me. Being in love with my best friend, who had no idea, was already starting to take its toll.
What if I told him and lost him? It would be unbearable. He’d always been an extension of myself. The silly “where you go, I go” mantra wasn’t actually all that silly. It was the truth. It was us. I couldn’t lose that, even if it meant hiding the way I felt.