Authors: Amber Garza
I groan. “Ugh. I can’t believe I have to wait months to ride again. It’s going to be agony.”
“I can think of some ways to ease that agony.” Asher winks
, and my stomach flips.
I jump off the bike
, flashing him a flirty smile. “You wish.”
“I do wish. You’re right.” He hops off
, and grabs me around the waist. “But I also love the chase, so don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
I smile up at him as he wraps me in his arms. “This summer has gone by so fast.”
“I know. Too fast.”
“What’s LA like?” I ask
, peering up at him. The sun shines down on us, and I squint against the bright rays.
“Different than here, but it’s great. And there’s a beach close by.”
I press my cheek against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. “Well, you better not meet some hot beach babe.”
Asher laughs, his chest muscles chafing my face. “Seriously. I’m going out with the hottest girl in the entire world. There’s no one else that even holds a candle to you.”
I smile as his hands cup my face, and he forces my head up to look at him. “Seriously, Ives. Never underestimate my feelings for you. This is a forever kind of love. No one can take me away from us.”
“I feel the same way,” I answer him
, before planting a kiss on his neck.
“Oh, you’ve got to stop teasing me like that,” he says in a low, throaty growl. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time for you to go shopping and buy new shorts too.”
“What’s wrong with my shorts?” I glance down at my jean shorts and tanned legs.
His fingers reach down and finger the
bottom of them. “They’re too short. A girl with legs as sexy as yours needs to keep them covered. I don’t want to have to follow you around the college campus all the time to keep you safe.”
My heart soars at his words. “I can’t even believe I’m going to college.”
“It’s where you belong, Ives. You’re too smart not to go.” He pulls me closer. “Besides, I wasn’t sure I could really leave you anyway.”
“I’m still so shocked. I mean, I didn’t even know my Grandpa had that much money in his savings. And it’s so crazy that he left it to me.”
“Of course he did. He loved you so much. You were like a daughter to him.” Asher grins at me. “Remember that day we were moving his stuff and you overheard us chatting in the family room?”
I nod.
“He was telling me that I better take good care of you, that you were his special girl and that you deserve the best.”
My eyes
shine from his words, and my throat burns. “Thank you for telling me that, Asher. It’s like all my dreams are coming true.”
“You’re going to make a great journalist, Ives.”
“I wasn’t talking about that, exactly. I was referring to the fact that I get to be with you.”
“Being with me is your dream come true?” Asher cocks an eyebrow. “See, didn’t I say that you always had the
hots for me? Why was it so hard to admit?”
I shove him backward in mock indignation. “Whatever.”
“Ooh, nice come back. Wish I’d have come up with that.”
“Shut up.” I swat at him, but he just grabs my arm and yanks me back to him. Only I don’t fight him too hard. I love being in his arms. There’s really nowhere I’d rather be.
“Is that any way to talk to your dream come true?”
I nestle into him. “I know you’re just being sarcastic, but you are my dream come true, Asher. Just don’t let it get to your head.”
“Too late. It already did.” He lowers his lips to my ears. “And you want to know a secret? You’re my dream come true also.”
My heart skips a beat at his words.
“Remember that day in my room when you saw the time capsule we made in Mrs. Smith’s class?”
Asher nods, tracing my chin with his finger.
“Well, this is what I wrote.” I reach into the pocket of my shorts and extract the small slip of paper. My fingers tremble, my insides fluttering. This was never something that I thought I would share with anyone else. It’s so personal. Yet, I want to share it with Asher. I never want to keep anything from him. I trust him completely. Holding it out, I allow him to snatch it from my hand.
His gaze connects with it
, and he reads it aloud, “To be loved.” He glances up at me. “That’s what you wrote?”
Pressing my lips together, I nod. “That’s what I wanted the most out of life.”
“Oh, Ives, I wish I had known you wrote that. I’ve loved you for so long. I should have told you sooner.”
I swallow hard. “Please don’t apologize. I kno
w you love me now, and that means everything. That’s the greatest gift you could ever give me.”
“Well, it’s not the only gift I’m going to give you.” Asher grins misch
ievously, perking my curiosity.
“What do you mean?”
“I have something for you. I was going to give it to you once we got to LA, but I just can’t wait.” He holds up his index finger. “Wait right here. I’ll be back.” With a broad smile on his face he races toward his house.
I lean against his bike and stare out at the street. The neighborhood is quiet with only the occasional passing car. Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure emerging from the house next door. When I turn in that direction, I catch sight of Cole making his way toward his car parked along the curb.
“Hey, Ivy,” he calls with a slight wave of his hand.
“Hey, Cole,” I respond, waving back.
He slips into his car. I watch him pull away from the curb and glide down the street. We’re still not exactly friends, but he seems to have finally accepted my relationship with Asher. I guess that’s what most people are doing. I’m not sure Asher’s family will ever truly accept me, but for now they’re being cordial and seem to have resigned themselves to the fact that Asher and I are going to be together. I hope one day I will be close to them. I know that in order to do that I’ll have to tell them my story. Asher understands that I need time before I can trust them with it, and I love him for being so patient. But I owe it to him to come clean someday. Besides, if I want to have a future with Asher, it’s imperative that I gain the approval of his Mom and Dad.
“Okay, close your eyes and turn around,” Asher’s voice startles me. I had been so engrossed in my own thoughts I hadn’t even heard him walk up. I close my eyes tightly and stand still. I hear his feet move around me. “You can open them now.”
My eyelids spring open, my stomach buzzing with anticipation. My gaze falls to what he holds in his hands. “You got me a laptop?” I am dumbfounded by his generosity.
“I know you like to write everything
in your notebook, but I figure if you plan to be a professional journalist one day you’ll need something a little less old fashioned,” Asher says, holding the laptop out to me.
“Oh, Asher, I love it.” I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek. Then I take the laptop in my hands and run my fingertips over its slick surface.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. I believe
in you, Ives.”
Grateful, I smile up at him. An orange leaf falls from a tree behind him and makes a quick descent to the ground, landing at my feet. O
range, yellow and brown leaves are scattered around us. I think about how the seasons are changing; how the earth is shedding the old to make room for the new. Fall is a time for starting over, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.
And with Asher by my side, I know I can take on anything life throws my way.
1
I wipe my clammy hands down my jeans, my fingernail snagging on a loose thread. I yank it out and then bite down on the jagged edge. Lola raises an eyebrow at me, and I quickly retract my fingers from my mouth. Nail biting is a habit I’m trying hard to break now that I’m in college. I glance down at my stubby nails and cringe. I guess I’m not doing a great job.
The girl on stage strums her guitar loudly and belts out a note in a way that makes me wince. Lola flashes me an amused look, but it only succeeds in turning my stomach. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the slick pub table we’re seated at. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“Oh, come on, Star. You are a million times better than this girl.”
“That’s not saying much.”
“Trust me, you’re gonna blow this place out of the water.” Lola plucks the cup of soda off the table and takes a dainty sip. Everything about Lola is dainty, from her French manicured nails to her coifed black hair and her ruby red lipstick. She always reminds me of an actress from the 1950’s. “You are so much more talented than you give yourself credit for.”
That’s the reason Lola is
my best friend. She believes in me in a way that no one else does. And she’s always encouraging me to put myself out there. Even though it infuriates me sometimes, the truth is that I’m grateful to her. However, at this moment I’m terrified. We’ve only been on campus for a week, and she’s already talked me into performing at open mic night at a popular coffee shop. The place is jam packed with college students, and every time a new person enters the room my insides are attacked by another swarm of angry butterflies.
“Ooh, you’re up next,” Lola squeals, her eyes dancing with excitement.
Goodie.
My palms fill with more moisture, and I feel dangerously close to puking. When my name is called I throw Lola a pained look and force my legs to carry me up on the makeshift stage. Peering down at my long shirt, skinny jeans and ballet flats, I’m grateful that I’m not wearing heels. Since I’m only five foot four, I tend to wear high heels a lot. But judging by how violently my legs are shaking, I’m pretty sure if I weren’t wearing my flats I’d be face down on the ground by now. Thankfully, I make it to the stage and I plop down at the keyboard. With shaky fingers, I pull the microphone to my lips and rest my fingers on the keys. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, and I don’t dare look out at the audience. If I just pretend I’m alone in my room singing I should be okay. I love to sing and play. It’s probably my favorite thing in the world to do, but performing is something I’m still not comfortable with.
I decide to play a song I wrote
a couple of years ago for my ex-boyfriend Spencer. It’s one I’ve sang so many times I could probably sing it in my sleep, so I figure it’s a safe bet. Even if I completely blank out I won’t forget the lyrics or anything. When I press down on the first key, I close my eyes and allow my mind to drown out the room. I focus on the music, letting the lyrics and notes whisk me away. As I splash around in the waves of the song, eventually I go under, drowning in it.
I want you close
I want you here
I feel complete
When you are near
After playing the last chord, I finally come out of my trance and open my eyes, taking in the room. The first person I notice is Lola and she’s beaming up at me. The
coffee shop has quieted down, and all eyes seem to be on me. This causes my heart to start beating frantically in my chest. I stand up, and a smattering of applause ensues.
Swallowing hard, I take deliberate steps off the stage, keeping my eyes trained on the ground. Before I can reach my table, a guy about my age intercepts me. He has brown hair that falls a little past his ears in a sweep that reminds me of the typical look of the members of boy bands. His eyes are dark
, and the lines around them crinkle as he smiles at me.
“Hey, you were pretty great up there,” he says.
I bite my lip, heat creeping up into my cheeks. “Thanks.”
“I’m
Ryker.” He juts out a hand to mine.
After swiping my sweaty hand over the
thigh of my jeans I hold mine out too. “Star.”
“I like it.” He cocks an eyebrow.
“I’m Lola,” my friend calls out from where she is seated at our table. “Why don’t you join us, Ryker?” Lola indicates the extra chair at our small table.
Ryker
smiles as he plops down into the chair. “Don’t mind if I do.”
I slide into the chair opposite him
, and glance over at Lola. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. It turns my stomach. I’m so not ready to get back in the dating game. I just got out of a two-year relationship, and by that I mean that I got dumped big time by the only boy I’ve ever loved. Honestly, I thought that Spencer was the one. Clearly I was wrong, but the thought of jumping into another relationship right now does not sound appealing.
Lola nudges me and I glance back over at
Ryker. I suppose he’s pretty cute, but I’m not sure he’s really my type. In truth, he looks more like Lola’s type with his trendy outfit and hair style that he clearly put a lot of effort into.
The next performer starts playing
, so Ryker leans toward me. “I’m in a band, and we’re looking for a female singer. I think you’d be perfect.”
This perks my interest. “Like a lead singer?” I’m not sure I’m ready to be the front runner of a band. I could hardly get through open
mic night without emptying the contents of my stomach on stage.