Read Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Bri Izzo
Chloe:
Who are you bringing on
Saturday?
Me:
I thought we weren
’t
doing dates.
Chloe:
Andrew asked me, so change
of plans.
Wow, what the hell happened to “
hoes over bros
”?
I
’
m disgusted
that she
’
s so willing to drop our plans to be with a guy.
Me:
Perfect.
Pretty much everyone at school already has dates
since the dance is in just a few days, so I
’
m kind of at a
loss as who to ask. I also hate that I have to pursue a guy to be my date while
apparently all of my friends have been asked. I overhear Rex talking to Leah
one evening while they are watching a movie in the living room, which leads me
to my ultimate plan.
“No one is going with dates this year,”
Rex tells her.
“I mean, I
’
ll get you
flowers since we
’
re together, but no one else is doing
that again. They all said it was stupid to spend that much money on a girl they
aren
’
t even dating.
”
“Typical guys,” Leah shrugs with a smirk, knowing she
wins out in the situation.
Me:
I assume you have a date, too?
Tiff:
Yeah.. sorry. Sam said he would go with me.
Me:
Of course. But what am I gonna do?
Tiff:
Ask Skyler.
Me:
Yeah right! Are you kidding?
Tiff:
No, I
’
m not.
Tiff:
He wanted to ask you last year when you were with
Chase. He will say yes for sure.
Me:
I was trying to pretend Chase was a bad dream.
Tiff:
Don
’
t change
the subject. Go ask him.
After a few minutes of pacing around my kitchen while
eavesdropping on my brother and his girlfriend, I run upstairs and call Skyler.
My heart pounds a million miles a second in anticipation for this ridiculous
charade. I always imagined him asking me, not me asking him. I know we kissed
at my birthday party, but this would be in public in front of absolutely everyone
in our world. It
’
s so different. Just when I
’
m
about to hang up after the fourth ring, I hear his scratchy voice.
“What
’
s up, Buzz?
”
he screeches a little too chipperly for a school night. I
’
m
busy trying to analyze the background noise on his phone, so I literally forget
to reply to his greeting. With a few seconds of silence, Skyler tries again, “
Hello?
”
“
Hey, um
… it
’
s…”
I stammer as I play with my long ponytail of brown locks. I can taste my heart
in the back of my throat, and I have to cough so I won
’
t
gag or throw up with him on the phone with me. That
’
d be
really attractive
.
“
Buzz
…” he finishes for me,
letting his voice trail off. “Are you okay? What
’
s going
on?”
I can
’
t do this
.
And I
just hang up on him and toss my phone across the room like it
’
s
a hot potato. Breathing like I just ran a marathon, I walk in circles in the
center of my room until I hear the loud vibration of my phone ringing on the
floor against my wood dresser.
Skyler Swanson.
I try to tame the marching band in my chest, but
there
’
s no use; I pick up my phone and slide my finger
across the green bar and squeak a very high-pitched, “
Hello?
”
Closing my eyes doesn
’
t mask my embarrassment for sounding
like a mouse. You would never know I call him all the time with the way my nerves
are acting. I certainly am not sleeping at his house for the rest of the week.
No way. Too awkward. Damn it, now I
’
m pissed at myself. I
hate sleeping alone.
“
Buzz?
” he questions, probably
because of my inability to have a human conversation with him at the moment.
God,
this is so embarrassing!
“Yeah, it
’
s me,” I muster out,
catching my breath halfway through.
“Is everything okay?” he wonders. My mind goes from
saying, “Aw he cares about me,” to, “Shut up; he just thinks you croaked over
and died.”
“Yeah, I
’
m fine. I just have the
hiccups,” I tell him, sighing out of disbelief for making up such a dumb lie.
“Is that why you hung up on me?” Skyler chuckles, and
I can feel the flirtatiousness in his voice. It
’
s either
that or relief that I have a normal, quirky thing going on in my body that isn
’
t a result of the accident.
“Kind of. Maybe. I don
’
t know,” I
ramble.
Okay, just forget this. Just tell him you hit the wrong number and
hang up.
“B, why are you freaking out?” he tries again, more
calmly.
“It
’
s my friends; they
’
re just being dumb and suddenly want to go with dates to
homecoming,” I confess, not knowing how that manages to come out so smoothly.
Even though I always feel most comfortable when I
’
m with
him, I
’
m not excited about having to ask him to the dance.
“Oh,” his voice shallows, but I got that far so I don
’
t want to stop there.
“I was calling to see if you would go with me,” I
blurt out. “Before you say anything-” I shout in my next breath so he can
’
t stutter or instantly reject me because him and his friends
aren
’
t going with dates. Or he
’
s
romantically repulsed by me. “Hear me out; I just need someone to take pictures
with. I don
’
t want to be the only one without a date. As
soon as we get to school, you can go hang out with the guys and do whatever. I
just need you to get me through pictures and dinner… please.”
“Ouch. You know I have an ego, right?” Skyler
half-laughs. “Let me talk to Alex, and see what he says, okay?”
“
Oh my God, Rex isn’
t going to
care,” I cry out. I
’
m naive. Of course Rex is going to
care. He doesn
’
t want me near Skyler if it
’
s
in a romantic setting. He doesn
’
t even like that I sleep
over there so much.
“If he isn
’
t going to care, then
what
’
s the big deal if I ask him?” he teases.
“You would go with me?” I realize what his answer
actually means; he
’
s accepting under the condition that it
’
s okay with my brother.
“Yes, B. Don
’
t act so surprised,”
he tells me. “If I hadn
’
t made the pact with Benny to go
without a date, I would
’
ve asked you.”
I
’
m not sure what crazy pills Buzz took
today before she calls and asks me to be her date to homecoming, but she
’
s fucking adorable. I do feel bad that she was that nervous. I
kissed her last week, and we share a bed almost every night, so it
’
s not like I think she
’
s repulsive. In
fact, I think the opposite. Knowing Alex has started warming up to the idea of
me and Buzz
casually
being together, I text him.
Me:
I know you
’
re
with Leah. Call me when you get a chance.
A half hour later my phone is ringing and his name is
flashing on my screen.
“Hey, I just wanted to run something by you,” I say
right away. If he
’
s still with Leah, I
’
m
sure he doesn
’
t want this conversation to take forever. We
aren
’
t girls who just call to talk or beat around a bush.
“Okay, shoot,” he accepts.
“Buzz called me and needs a date to homecoming and
asked me,” I put it all on the table.
“I thought neither of you were going with anyone,”
he questions.
“She said her friends changed their minds last
minute,” I explain.
“You don
’
t need my permission,
Skyler,” he tells me. “But I can
’
t believe you made
her
ask
you
.” Since when do I not need his fucking permission? He loathes me
with her romantically.
“
Bye, fucker,
” I curse at him
and hang up.
The next day when I pick Buzz up for school, we
’
re both our usual 7:00 a.m. selves - quiet and tired-looking. I
didn
’
t even realize I never called her back to tell her
what Alex said about us going to homecoming together until after I feel her
eyes on me in a scary way.
“Why are you fucking looking at me like that?” I
demand to know as I turn into the school
’
s parking lot. “Was
I an ass to you in your dreams last night?” It was another rare night where I
didn
’
t hear from her and where she didn
’
t
sleep in my bed next to me. I
’
m always curious which she
prefers: to sleep in my bed or alone in her own. My sleep is deprived from
constantly worrying about her, but at least if she
’
s in my
bed I know I can take care of her better than if she is down the street.
“No. You were an ass in real life,” she snaps,
lightly punching me in the arm.
“I was? How?”
I question her. I
’
m usually an ass but not to her. This is new.
“Rex said he gave you his blessing, but I never heard
back from you,” she explains. The way her arms cross over her chest put her in
a childish light, but she has every right to be pissed. My face must show my
realization because she adds, “It
’
s fine. If you didn
’
t want to go with me, you should
’
ve just
said so.”
Just as I pull into my parking spot, I turn to her
and put my hand on her shoulder. “No, no, no, no,”
I stutter.
“Buzz,
look at me.” Of course, she has to be her stubborn Italian self and not listen.
Her profile is rigid, so I whisper in her ear, “Fine. I
’
ll
just go with you to pictures and dinner. You
’
re on your
own after that.”
I don’
t want to fucking play these games.
I kissed her on her birthday; she has to know that means something.
“Fine,” she half-shouts back. “That
’
s
all I asked for anyways.” Then she viciously opens the passenger side door, and
I flinch as I prepare myself for metal on metal. Somehow she manages to save
the door from hitting the car next to us, but it doesn
’
t
slow her down from storming away from me.
I can
’
t just leave it like this.
I love her more than I want to be the superior one in this fight. Nothing is
worth seeing her upset. I jump out and race around my Jeep to meet her near the
rear bumper, and luckily she jolts back in surprise when I step in her pathway.
Caught her just in time.
“Let
’
s not fucking do this,
okay?” I beg.
“We
’
re not doing anything,” she
whimpers, bowing her head to skirt around me. But I can
’
t
fucking let her walk into school in this state of mind. School sucks enough;
she doesn
’
t need to be upset with me, too.
I lightly grab her arm and allow my lips to creep to
just a breath away from her ear. “I
’
m sorry I forgot to
call you back… but
don
’
t
push me
away,” I tell her. My grip tightens on her, awaiting for her acknowledgement to
my apology. She can shove everyone else in her life into traffic but not me.
When she lets out a deep breath and finally looks at
me, my chest relaxes. The fight is over just like that. “I just didn
’
t sleep last night, so I
’
m cranky. I
’
m sorry,” she admits softly. I don
’
t know
what possesses her to, but she leans her forehead down onto my chest and rests
it there for a long moment as I run my fingers through her hair. My chin
lightly rests on her head so naturally as I try to absorb her anxiousness. I
think we are both so incredibly sleep deprived that we forget we
’
re
standing in the school parking lot. In broad daylight. When everyone else is
arriving to school. She clearly needs this, needs me, so I let it fucking
happen. If we get caught, so be it.
“Did you not sleep because I didn
’
t
call you back?” I wonder, the guilt in my stomach swimming to the surface to
create a tidal wave.
She shakes her head, an unlikely answer. “No. I didn
’
t sleep because it makes me nervous to think about losing you,”
she quietly declares.
“
Then don
’
t
think about it,”
I tell her.
We
’
re in our own world until all
of a sudden Evan Smith, the football player that lives on the same street
between me and Buzz, walks by us and calls out, “Get a room!”
I can almost feel Buzz roll her eyes as she lets out
a frustrated sigh, but before she can move away from me, I yell back, “Fuck
off, Smalls!”
“Sky!” Buzz quietly accuses me of overreacting, but
the tiny smirk on her face tells a completely different story. She must
secretly love being seen with me, even if it feels like we are being caught,
and hearing me defend us.
“What? He needs to mind his own fucking business,” I
decide, keeping an arm around her shoulder as we trail Evan and a bunch of
other students into the cafeteria. Buzz has made it a ritual to go to her
locker first thing upon arrival. She doesn
’
t always join
us back in the cafeteria, but I know it
’
s her way of
isolating herself.
“Hey,” I call after her as she heads down the
hallway. Her hair twirls around like a fan when she twists in my direction. She
’
s a model on her own runway. “Am I taking you home today?” I
ask since it
’
s the last time I
’
ll see
her before the final bell rings at the end of the day.
“I have therapy. If you want to come, we can go
together. Otherwise Rex will take me and wait,” she offers and then awaits my
response. I promised her at her birthday party I would go, so I figure there
’
s no reason to push it out any further.
Nodding, I enlighten her, “I
’
ll
see you later today then.”
Her therapist is fucking pushy even in her
introduction and greeting, and I don
’
t like it. I don
’
t like that Buzz has to deal with her every fucking week, and I
’
m not too fond of having to deal with her myself today. She is
an older woman with brown hair that looks like it has been fried on an ironing
board. Her slightly crooked teeth make her look evil when she smiles, which is
all the fucking time.
No one is that happy. And just because you
’
re smiling doesn
’
t mean you can fucking drill Buzz as hard as you can for
an hour
.
Buzz and I sit on a couch across from Dr. Hughes, who
she calls “Samantha” like they
’
re best friends. I
’
m not about to fucking fall into
Samantha
’
s
shitty scheme of pretending to be our friend but
really just being a nosey bitch like every other middle-aged woman in the
surrounding area.
Hearing Buzz talk about the accident the way she does
really rattles me. My insides keep jumping and making me nauseous. She
’
s so stiff and clearly uncomfortable with talking or thinking
about it, which is totally understandable. Except that she
’
s
been doing this for weeks. I realize maybe she asked me to come because she is
always relaxed with me.
“Last week Bianca mentioned trust being an issue
between the two of you,” Samantha announces to us immediately upon starting our
session.
“Really,” I deadpan.
“Yes. Something about you keeping a secret from her,”
she continues to pry.
“We already talked about this when it happened,” I
argue, looking at Buzz for confirmation.
Why the fuck would she bring this
up now?
“Look, whatever happens in the future, I need to
know I can trust you. I know you
’
ll save me and take care
of me, but I need you to also be open and honest, too,” she explains. “When I
first saw Chase last week at school I vaguely remembered what happened. I wasn’t
sure if we ever finished it.”
Fuck, well now I feel like shit. We kind of did leave
that fight in an awkward place, and then the accident happened. I should’ve
realized she would forget something that recent. In my head, right now she
’
s hinting at us dating. Maybe this trust issue and end to that
fight are the only things holding her back from me. If that
’
s
what it takes, I
’
m in. It
’
s not like
I have this giant book of Skyler
’
s Secrets that I
’
m hiding from her. I just wanted to protect her.
“Okay,” I agree, and I watch her relax onto the arm
of the couch and kick her feet up, squirming like a child. She looks at me like
it
’
s going to take a little bit more than me just saying “okay”
to gain her trust back but she
’
s willing to let me try.
Maybe just not in front of her therapist.
“So in regards to the accident, Bianca, how do you
feel about it today?” Samantha asks her.
“I
’
m just glad Sky was there to
save me,” she tells Samantha in the most staged voice I
’
ve
ever fucking heard come out of her mouth. It
’
s like she
’
s reading a script for the first time.
“What if he wasn
’
t there? What
if it would
’
ve been someone else?” Samantha interrogates
her.
“Benny said if it weren
’
t for
Sky I would
’
ve died,
” Buzz continues
in her fake voice. And she
’
s avoiding looking at me, so I
know she knows I picked up on her act. Ugh, it
’
s piercing
to my ears to hear her talk like this. It isn
’
t her. It
’
s like she fell back into the old
Buzz with no memories.
“I
’
m sorry. Can I get a second
with her?” I interrupt, acknowledging the therapist first and then turning
towards Buzz. I lean in and whisper before Samantha can even give me her
blessing, “This is what you fucking talk about at therapy? How does this help?”
“
Well we
’
re
kind of backtracking because you
’
re here,” she confesses,
a slightly more pained, but real, expression creeping onto her face. She hates
this.
“You don
’
t have to do that. I
can pick up wherever you left off,”
I tell her.
A flood of grief overcomes me when Buzz locks eyes on
mine. Like the feelings she
’
s trying to hold back, I
’
m bottling up my anguish over the accident. After she was
released from the hospital we never talked about the unfortunate events again.
But I know they constantly play back in our minds.
“Sky,” she begins, grabbing my hand that rests
between us on the couch. “I need you to do this, to talk about this,” she
declares. Her eyes are soft and forgiving as she pleads with me, and I know I
have to make the sacrifice. Those tears she
’
s keeping
hostage are an unusual sight, and I respect her vulnerability.