LITMIR.BIZ

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reached the end of our sophomore year, he had filled out. The way he let his curly hair grow longer since he was a boy was actually attractive. And he had this cute way of shoving it out of his eyes when he was frustrated.

      He never really acted as though he wanted more than the bickering and arguing that transpired between us, but there was always something in his eyes when a new friend, especially of the male persuasion, picked me up or came over to hang out.

      Could Frankie be right?

      I could be a little bratty sometimes and hard to get along with. Growing up in a house where everyone stared at me as if I was some sort of science project since birth, had been daunting. When I chose my clothes, when I ate, when I talked to Cole, especially then. Stares. Or looks of disdain. Constantly.

      And when I walked into the room, the conversation ceased. The abrupt silence exposed their effort to conceal things they didn’t want me to know yet. I would figure it out. Eventually.

      I always felt like a fluke. I didn’t feel as though I fit in at school even though I had lots of friends or at least people who wanted to be my friend. I tried to be nice. My mom threw parties to nudge me out of my shell, but I just seemed to coexist with all the other kids the older I got. I attracted guys, but was never really attracted to any of them. I then found a small group of friends to interact with so my parents would leave me alone.

      As my sophomore year progressed, Cole began a retreat from being my prison warden to occasionally questioning my decision-making.

      I hated to admit it, but I began to miss his constant fuss over me.

      He spent a lot of time in the library at the house, reading old books. There was one dark, leather-bound book in particular, the one he’d been reading the first day he told me he had a crush on someone. It never failed, every single time I glanced into the library his nose was stuck in that book. Deeply enthralled by the book, he never sensed my approach.

      When I asked him about it, he said, “It’s the family history. You hate history. You’re more of a science girl.”

      Since he’d read it more than a hundred times, maybe it was worth a glance through.

      When he left the library, I could never find it, no matter how hard I looked. Had he hidden it from me?

      One day, a Friday evening when all my friends had dates and I didn’t feel like being third wheel, I was particularly bored. I slipped up behind Cole His head was dipped, his cheek propped in hand and his eyes were misty. There had to be an impression of his body worn into the old leather sofa as much time as he spent in deep thought there.

      “You’ve read this a thousand times. What is it?” I jerked the book out of his hands.

      “Give it back.” He stood. His glare was bold and serious.

      I read a line of the book to myself.

      “Hmm. A sappy romance, yuck.” I started reading the book to him in teasing, “This unusually cold spring night, my arms should be around her keeping her body warm. Now there is nothing on this earth that could do that for her. The cold, moist earth will swallow her and her body will never know warmth again.”

      Cole jumped into my face and jerked the book out of my hand, his expression twisted with anger and pain. His voice was a low growl. “I just wish I could hate you.”

      “I was just joking around.” What had I done that was so bad?

      Cole turned from me and carried the book from the room with him.

      So that’s why I couldn’t find it.

      He took it with him each time he left.

      * * * *

      A few days later beside the pool, I lounged on one of the wicker chairs with sunglasses on and a white bikini. It was a perfect day for forgetting the crazy world, my crazy whatever-you-would-call-him, Cole, and taking in some rays.

      The perfect mix of chlorine and roses scented the air and a light breeze swayed the long leaves of the banana trees beside the pool fence.

      “I’m sorry for what I said the other day.”

      I jumped. I hadn’t heard the pool gate open. “You scared the life out of me. What have I told you about sneaking up on me?”

      The breeze pressed against Cole’s wavy brown hair. His eyes were dark and his voice was weird. Different. “I don’t want to hate you. I never could.”

      I wasn’t sure how to respond. I was a little uncomfortable with his admission, but it had been sweet. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to insult you. I didn’t realize you liked the story so much.”

      Cole looked away, his gaze landing on the rose maze. “It means a lot to me is all.”

      I took my sunglasses off and sat them down. I started to ask him what it was about. Why it was so gripping, but he sat on the lounge chair beside me and sprawled back.

      “I didn’t come out here to hound you about anything. Can I just sit here? I won’t talk.”

      I cast a sideways glance at him. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but I simply nodded and decided, out of respect—though I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why Cole could grow so attached to words on a page—to never look for it again.

      * * * *

      My attention didn’t stay focused on anything for very long when my junior year commenced, but I decided to stop trying to make Cole’s life a living hell. He was only trying to look out for me. Though it was creepy at times, it had its nice points.

      Out of aggravation, I narrowed my social outings to joining one friend, Frankie Frank, when she went to the movies, out to eat, and when she just wanted to drive so she could vent about her relationship with her boyfriend, Matt.

      As far as date type situations went, I casually dated Derrick Cobb, a friendly guy whose parents own the plantation a few blocks down from ours. It was nothing serious, but he lightened my mood when I was upset.

      Lately that had been a lot.

      Cole would barely speak to me or even acknowledge my existence.

      Mama, Shelby, and Trevor all delivered the same answer when questioned about it. “He’s just going through some stuff right now.”

      One night, Derrick called, which rescued me from inside my own head. He was a playful and innocently flirty person who had no trouble filling my time with distractions of the comedic sort.

      That evening he was shy and nervous.

      “I need to ask you a question about the prom.” Derrick’s voice was higher than usual.

      If he was going to ask me to go, I had the odd notion that I didn’t want anyone to hear.

      And I didn’t know why but, I was especially nervous about agreeing to go with Derrick within Cole’s earshot.

      I excused myself and stood from the long dinner table in the dining room.

      An uncomfortable silence smothered the room when I started out.

      Cole didn’t look up from the rose china on his place mat. He flipped his fork in his hand as he stared at his roast beef.

      Mama and Shelby exchanged worried glances.

      “Okay, so what about the prom? You thinking of spiking the punch?” my heart stammered waiting for what I knew he would ask.

      “No, I was thinking about how nice you’d look in a ball gown. The theme is Gone with the Wind. I could probably force myself into a tux, if you’d go with me.” Though he tried to sound cool, his voice was a little higher pitched than usual.

      I leaned against the banister staring out at the rose maze. “I don’t know. I’ve never worn a ball gown before. They look like they’d be stuffy.”

      “You’re going

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