Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1) (39 page)

            Gasping first, she responds in her rare chipper girly
voice. “Ooh, I thought I liked you. Oh, hey. Would you be up for some batting
cage time, too? I reserved some tomorrow afternoon.”

            I squeeze her around the waist so I can lift her up
and have her lips at my height. “I thought I liked you,” I create an echo.

            When I retreat back to my basement, the guys are
waiting for me in silence, and I wonder what I fucking missed in the extra five
minutes I was upstairs saying bye to the girls. I sit in the empty chair and
literally hear all of their eyes hit me.

             “What?” I snap, picking up my cards from the spot on
the table in front of me.

             “Don
’
t mind us.
We
’
re just playing a game of poker,”
Alex
mocks me.

             “I was saying bye to the girls. I wasn
’
t
gonna be rude like you fuckers,” I tell them.

             “They came and ate our pizza, and we were rude?” Sam
questions me. His theory is actually on point for once, but I can
’
t
give him the credit for it.

             “I wasn
’
t the one who invited
them,” I point out, looking up from my cards to give an obvious glare in Benny
’
s direction. He just sits there quietly and takes it, which is
very unusual from him. Actually the only person who would just take that on a
normal day is Buzz; literally anyone else in our group of friends would shoot a
sarcastic comment back at me. Even Baylee, but it
’
s kind
of hard to consider a thirteen year old as part of our friend group no matter
how much Benny likes her. “Hello, Earth to Benny.” I wave my hand slowly to try
to get his attention. “Does this have anything to do with you not saying bye to
Baylee?”

             “Did Sam say a special good-bye to Tiffany?” Benny
diverts the question.

             “No. Why would I?” Sam answers, completely oblivious
to anyone else
’
s feelings but his own.

             “I rest my case then,” Benny wants to end the
conversation. Nice try though.

             “Those two are so dysfunctional they make Kanye and
Kim look stable,” I banter.

             “It
’
s true. There
’
s
nothing real with us,” Sam backs me up. I knew he was going to come in handy to
have as a brother someday.

             “If you
’
re comparing yourselves
to Sam and Tiffany then you
’
re in trouble,” Alex chuckles
in agreement with us.

             “I
’
m not comparing me and
Baylee to anyone. We aren
’
t anything more than friends,” Benny
argues, throwing his cards onto the table to fold. Or maybe he
’
s
leaving to go home. Fuck, the girls are at his house. No way is that happening.
When he stands up I
’
m about to follow him, but he just goes
to the fridge and grabs a soda.

             “Is there something between you and Makenna?” Alex
blurts out. I shoot my eyes at him, hoping and praying he isn
’
t
directing that ridiculous fucking question at me. Me and Makenna are so history
we
’
re in my grandpa
’
s textbooks. But
he
’
s looking at Benny, and he
’
s
serious.

            I
’
m not really breathing because
I
’
m so shocked that this is even a possibility, but it
helps me in waiting for Benny
’
s answer.

             “
I don’
t know,” he sighs,
coming back and slouching in his chair. It isn
’
t often
that Benny looks defeated, but as he looks at me and Alex individually, he
really appears like he
’
s lost a fight.
How is he
already hung up on this girl?

             “You guys seem pretty friendly at lunch,” Alex says
with no judgement whatsoever.

           
Lunch? Makenna goes to South…

             “Okay, hold on,” I demand, dropping my cards on the
table. “What the fuck am I missing? How do you see Makenna at lunch?”

             “She transferred,” all three of them answer at the
same time.

             “What?” I
’
m in total disbelief.
Why would she transfer after the first month of junior year? That
’
s
so stupid. I don
’
t really have any beef with her anymore.
However she causes trouble wherever she goes, and she
’
s
friends with Leah who apparently does the same. How has no one told me this?

             “We were just as surprised as you are when Leah
brought her to our lunch table this week,” Alex sympathizes with me.

             “Okay, and you like her?” I ask Benny.

             “It
’
s complicated,” is Benny
’
s answer.
Ha, I know complicated.

             “What
’
s so complicated? You
’
re single; she
’
s single.” I really don
’
t see the issue, especially if him and Baylee are “just friends”
like he says.

             “You dated her,” he reminds me.

             “Barely. That can
’
t seriously
be your reason for holding back,” I tease him. If it is, he
’
s
just being a fucking pussy about it. Because he, of all people, knows I can
’
t stand being with Makenna.

             “When we were ten the three of us made a pact that
we wouldn
’
t date each other
’
s exes
when we got older,” Benny revives the most feminine memory we have with each
other. I figured it wouldn
’
t be an issue; growing up the
three of us couldn
’
t have been interested in more
different girls. Even when we were watching movies or a TV show, we each
fancied a different one.

             “Benny, I sincerely give you my blessing if you want
to fuck Makenna,” I tell him.

             “Seriously?” he questions one more time.

             “Yes, for fuck
’
s sake. She
’
s all yours,” I glare at him, trying to ingrain my words into
his brain so we won
’
t have to have this conversation ever
again. Remembering that I ever had something with that girl is painful. She
’
s fine as an acquaintance and a person in general, just
severely not my type with all the drama she carried around in her purse. By
that I mean she is severely not Buzz. “But what about Baylee?” I add.

             “What about her?” he wonders.

             “And I
’
m the asshole? Wow,” I
disgustedly sigh.

            After we go to bed a while later, I
’
m
sleeping on one of the couches facing the TV and have a horrible nightmare play
like a movie in my mind. It
’
s a recurring one where Buzz
is drowning in a massive body of water, sometimes a lake, other times an ocean,
and I can
’
t save her. I
’
ll swim and
push myself as hard as I can go, but she always keeps moving further away until
the water finally takes her under.

            All I can hear is Buzz yelling, “Why can
’
t you save me?” and I
’
m so confused. As I
front crawl in her direction, I am actually gaining water for once and am so
close to reaching out and touching her when a tidal wave hits me, throwing me
back into the water. When I manage to pop my head out of the water about ten
seconds later, all I see is Buzz lying face down in the water with blood
pouring out of her head like the day of the accident.

             “
Buzz!
” I scream in my dream,
and the water starts shaking like an earthquake, which is unusual. As I start
to panic, I finally wake up to Benny shaking me as he stands above me.

           
Deep breaths. It wasn
’
t
real. It was just a dream. Buzz is okay. You
’
re
okay.

             “You alright, man?” Benny whispers, careful not to
wake up Alex or Sam who are sleeping on the floor in front of the TV.

            Still trying to catch my breath, I nod. “Yeah, just a
bad dream.”

             “About Bianca?”
he questions.
Damn
it. He heard me yell for her? Fuck.

             “Yeah,” I admit, standing up and heading for the wet
bar to get a glass of water.

            Following me, he asks, “Does this happen a lot?”

             “Just when she
’
s not sleeping
next to me. It
’
s like my subconscious knows if she
’
s next to me in real life,” I confess. I
’
m
still breathing heavily from the stress these dreams bring me. Buzz has no idea
about it, and I want to keep it that way. She has enough to worry about.

             “Wow,” he gasps in disbelief. He doesn
’
t
realize how badly I took Buzz
’
s accident either. No one
does. “What
’
s the dream?”

            Setting the glass on the countertop, I squint my eyes
at him. I never talk about it with anyone except Dr. Hughes
, so I
’
m not really sure how to say it without coming off as
delusional. Scanning the room, I
’
m happy to know Sam and
Alex are still asleep.

             “She
’
s drowning, and I have to
save her, but I can never get to her. She always ends up face down with blood
in the water surrounding her head,” I summarize, avoiding his sympathy eye
contact.

             “Shit, Sky,” Benny sharply draws in a breath. His
entire demeanor completely softens from when we were playing cards and he was
trying to defend himself. “Does B know?”

             “No,” I firmly state. “
I don’
t
want her to fucking know. I need her to get better and worry about herself, not
me.”

             “Sky-” he tries, but I cut him off.

             “I
’
ll be fine. I can
’
t risk it,
” I affirm, staring him down
intensely. I really wish this wouldn
’
t have happened in
his presence. “Don
’
t you dare fucking tell her.”

             “I thought you were going to therapy with her now,” he
says.

             “I am. I
’
m working on it.” The
therapy sessions are supposed to be for Buzz, and I
’
m just
the support. What no one knows is that I
’
m actually seeing
Buzz
’
s therapist, Samantha, on my own in addition to going
with Buzz. It
’
s easier to go to a therapist who already
knows what happened with the accident. After the first time I went with Buzz,
Samantha suggested I come in for a private session. Once she heard about my
intense dreams, we made regular appointments once a week for eight weeks. I
’
m only on week two. No one but my mom knows about it, and that
isn
’
t about to change anytime soon.

35 Bianca Ferrari

With Halloween, parent-teacher conferences, freshmen testing, and
Thanksgiving, we have four four-day weekends in seven weeks over the span of
October and November. Rex makes me do my algebra homework with him watching me
the first night of each of those weekends, but after that I
’
m
free to do whatever I want, which really doesn
’
t consist
of much. I still have to attend my therapy sessions, and thankfully Skyler
always comes with me. It allows us to grow closer to each other as well as
overcome the post-traumatic stress from the accident.

            The weekend before Thanksgiving is the most perfect
four-day weekend I could ever imagine. On Wednesday night I
’
m
sitting in my room about to pop in a movie when I hear a knock on my bedroom
door.

             “
Come in!
” I call out.

             “Should you really be yelling like that?” Skyler
’
s scratchy voice criticizes the raised inflection in my tone.

             “Am I puking right now?” I question him and give him
a silly “it sucks to be wrong” face. I didn
’
t even raise
my voice that much; I know my limits.

             “
I don’
t know. Are you?” he
presses back.

             “Did Savannah teach you the comebacks she uses?
Because that
’
s not one of her best qualities,” I giggle
sarcastically.

             “I
was
going to take you up to the cabin this
weekend, but now…” His voice trails off as he pretends to exit my bedroom. I
can tell by the look he
’
s giving me that no matter what I
do, he
’
s still going to take me. His eyes are so broody,
and I know he just needs to get away.

            Playing along to his little charade, I start begging
him to reconsider. “Please, please, please, Sky!”

            He turns back towards me and picks me up, letting me
wrap my legs around his waist. “
My Jeep
’
s
running on the driveway. Pack a bag and let
’
s go.” The
adventurous adrenaline immediately starts pumping through my veins, so much
that I don
’
t even bother packing anything but a bag of
toiletries.

             “No clothes?”
he questions me.

             “I have a feeling we
’
re not
going to be wearing clothes very often this weekend,” I smirk, meeting his eyes
to affirm my statement. His eyes totally agree with me. All I can think about
is it
’
s going to be a long two hour drive to the cabin
staring at his messy, already sex-y hair and gorgeous smolder. “Plus if I
really do need clothes, I have some in my room there.”

            Slinging his arm around my shoulder as we walk down
the stairs, he whispers in his deep voice, “You
’
re not
going to need clothes, sweetheart.”

            The entire car ride I
’
m
fidgeting with the window, glove box, radio, or my hair. I do a fishtail braid
first but give up when it doesn
’
t look like Lauren Conrad
’
s tutorial video and do a French braid instead. But then Skyler
gives me a weird look like I
’
m a ten year old, so I untie
the rubber band and run my fingers through the crisscrosses to undo the braid.

            I
’
m not nervous to be with him
or to think about being naked with him; I just hate being cramped in a car and
I
’
m so damn excited to be alone with him tonight.
Sometimes half the fun is getting somewhere - the journey - but right now I
’
m ready for the destination. I
’
ve dreamt
about being with him, like really with him, for years, and for the first time
in my life I think the reality might outdo the dream.

            By the time we arrive to the cabin, my hair looks
like I
’
ve already had sex. The last twenty minutes I had
my head out the window like all those stupid bunnies I
’
ve
seen while riding down the highway in Wisconsin. People are crazy about their
bunnies up here.  

            As we walk up the driveway to the cabin, I ask him, “You
told your parents you were coming here, right?”

             “No, why the fuck would I tell them?” Skyler
answers, reaching for the key to the front door to unlock it and hold it open
for me to go inside.

             “Um, maybe because last time you came here and didn
’
t tell anyone, gee, I don
’
t know, there
was an accident,” I sneer, raising my eyebrows at him. It
’
s
my favorite thing to do with my face besides smile. Sometimes I do it in the
mirror so I can see the railroad tracks across my forehead zigzag like everyone
else can when I do it in public.

            He angrily closes the door and drops our small bags
on the bottom stair before continuing into the kitchen to turn on a light. I
’
m a total bitch. I noticed last week at therapy that I seem to
be making more progress than Skyler, and I
’
m worried about
him but then go say something stupid like that.

            The mood in the room shifts like a seesaw, and I
’
m determined to level it out immediately. “Hey,” I softly
speak, reaching for his hand.

            Stopping as he approaches the fridge, Skyler rests
his head on the door and intertwines his fingers with mine. I feel horrible for
my snarky comment. I guess I didn
’
t think about it being
both of our first times back at the cabin since the accident. The motive for
this weekend has suddenly deviated from just swiping each other
’
s
v-cards. It
’
s a true opportunity to move past the accident
once and for all.

             “
I won
’
t
let anything fucking happen to you again,” he promises, fighting with the movie
reel playing in his head as he still can
’
t look at me. I
’
ve never seen him like this except for right when I woke up in
the hospital and felt like I didn
’
t know him. In this
moment it
’
s like he
’
s made no
progress in forgiving himself whatsoever.

            With my free hand, I grasp onto his arm and lightly
tug so he
’
ll open up to me. He doesn
’
t
at first, but eventually he concedes and looks deeper into my eyes than he ever
has. “I know, Sky. I shouldn
’
t have said that. I trust
you.”

            Slowly he picks me up, and I suction him in between
my legs as he presses me up against the pantry next to the stove. He
’
s holding me so tightly that I
’m certain I’
m
going to have handprints on me tomorrow. The desperation is so apparent in his
breathing, but it isn
’
t for me or for sex. It
’
s a desperation for forgiveness from himself. I thought coming
to the cabin was going to be light-hearted and adventuresome, like both of us,
but right now I realize he needs it to be something more.

            To him, the cabin is the scene of the crime. I can
see it in his eyes that that
’
s all he
’
s
feeling as soon as we entered it tonight. He didn
’
t expect
it to affect him like this either; it
’
s obvious.

            At first, Skyler waits for my cue to start kissing
me, which is me playing with his spiky and messy hair. I pull on it, and he
swoops in for a strong kiss that further presses me into the cabinets. Luckily
his hand is padding the back of my head so it doesn
’
t hurt
me at all, but it just means I have to squeeze my legs around him even more to
stay afloat. He grabs my butt and clutches it in his hand, causing me to let
out a deep breath.

             “Skyler,” I say as we exchange a new trench-deep
look. I whimper unexpectedly, but I know his eyes are asking me if I
’
m ready for sex. And I am. But I have another plan. And he isn
’
t going to like it. But I need to do this for him.

             “B,” he acknowledges that he
’
s
heard his full name, but his eyes never leave mine. Our bodies are having three
different conversations: one with our lips, one with our eyes, and one with our
hands.

             “Where
’
s your wallet?” I ask
coolly, trying so hard not to smile.

            His eyebrows raise at me, and then he chuckles, “Sweetheart,
I brought the whole box.” I love that he read me perfectly.

             “
Good,
” I sigh, still feeling
him in the sweet spot between my legs that is already aching for him. I
’
m looking forward to depleting the box he brought. I know I
have to pitch my idea quickly while we
’
re still in the
heat of the moment, otherwise he
’
s going to take me in
this kitchen.

             “What? You look like you
’
re
thinking,” he quietly notices. He
’
s talking like we don
’
t have the entire cabin to ourselves, but it
’
s
so sweet.

             “You
’
re going to think I
’
m crazy, but there
’
s somewhere specific I
want to go,” I tease a little without giving too much away.

             “Right now?” he wonders. He clearly has no idea what
I
’
m thinking because to him, my timing is so unbelievably
questionable. But it
’
s important to me that we go there
for us and for him.

             “Yes. Right now,” I confirm. I start heading into
the basement and out the back door, and he follows me even though he
’
s still
in doubt.

             “B, it
’
s dark and fucking
freezing. Why don
’
t we just stay in the house tonight?” Skyler
suggests. He swiped a blanket from the couch, so he
’
s
prepared for me to put up a fight.

            I turn around as we
’
re walking
down the steps in the yard, causing Skyler to run into me from his momentum
pulling him down. “I need you to trust me, okay?”

             “I do,” he hesitantly tells me.

             “I love you. This… is for us and for you. And I don
’
t want another word until after we get there,” I demand calmly.
I take his hand in mine as I lead him the rest of the way down the stairs to
the jet-skis that are stowed away in the shed next to the dock. “Can you help
me get one of these out?” I request of him.

             “You
’
re lucky the lake isn
’
t frozen over yet,” he snickers but complies with what I want.
I take the key out of my pocket that I swiped from the hook in the cabin and
hop onto the jet-ski in the driver position. “You
’
re going
to drive? How safe is this? You don
’
t even have your
driver's license.”

             “We
’
re on water. This is
easier,” I laugh. I
’
ve driven a jet-ski a hundred times
but never with Skyler as my passenger. He
’
s always driven
us except when he was teaching me how to drive it a few summers ago. Since he
doesn
’
t know where I want to go and if I tell him he
’
ll deny me, I have to drive.

            Because it
’
s well after sunset,
I have to drive slowly into the lake so I don
’
t make a
wake with the jet-ski. Skyler makes us wear lifejackets, but he purposely
places his hands underneath mine as he holds onto my waist. I slow when we get
to the high dive, and I literally feel his hands trembling above my shirt.

            At first we just sit here staring at the wooden block
with the high dive planted onto it. The dock is stationary; therefore the
little waves I do create with the jet-ski crash into it creating the teardrops
we
’
re both holding inside. I tie up the jet-ski to the
railing on the wooden dock and climb onto it. When I reach for Skyler
’
s hand, he
’
s hesitant again, and I can
’
t blame him. He witnessed the accident that happened in this
exact spot, and here I am dragging him back to the actual scene of the crime in
the middle of a cold November night.

             “This is where you wanted to go,” he states, and I
know he doesn
’
t like it, just like I predicted. But he
doesn
’
t argue with me. He knows my plan will help both of
us.

             “Yeah,” I admit, and suddenly looking into his eyes
is too overwhelming for me. I have never seen Skyler this emotional before. He
’
s struggling with being so distraught and I feel horrible for
making him relive those critical moments. I can
’
t imagine
how devastated he must
’
ve felt that summer day, but it
means everything that we can come back here together. Guiding me to the tall
ladder in the middle of the dock that leads to the diving board, he lightly
holds me against it so my back has some support. He takes me in his arms when
my body begs for him, and I have never felt safer in my whole life.