Read Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Bri Izzo
“You
’
re way too selfless,” I
blurt out.
“No, I
’
m not. I
’
m
selfish. That
’
s how I got into this mess,” she disagrees,
running her hand through her long straightened hair. She
’
s
trying to torture me. She
’
s standing up abnormally
straight so her legs look a mile long in her short shorts, and her hair is
flowing gorgeously all the way down her back.
“What do you want, Buzz?” I ask her, trying to ignore
her slight movements that are having a large affect on me. I step closer so my
chest is almost touching her shoulder blades, but I refrain from touching her
for many reasons. If I lay a finger on her I
’
ll have to
kiss her again. I have very minimal self control around her once I
’
m touching her. The night of my birthday proved that. Her
breath catches as she feels my nearer presence, and I have to take a step back.
“It doesn
’
t matter what I want,”
she insists.
“What about what I want?” I throw that out as bait,
hoping she
’
ll bite.
“It
’
s
my birthday weekend; I fucking want you there.”
Her big hazel eyes glare up at me over her shoulder
like she
’
s a toddler awaiting her punishment. When I don
’
t budge on my stance behind her, she caves. “Fine. But…
one condition.
”
“What
’
s that, sweetheart?” I
tease her. She knows whatever it is, I
’
ll agree to it.
“What happened at your birthday party… nothing like
it can happen again,” she states firmly. I applaud her effort to be mature and
try to please everyone even if it means she isn
’
t happy
herself, but I see right through her. She wants it to happen again just as
badly as I do.
“Deal,” I confirm to her demands. I may not be able
to kiss her, but there are other things I can do to flirt with her until I get
her and everyone else to come around.
It doesn
’
t really take too much effort, but
Skyler convinces me to go up to the cabin for his family birthday weekend after
all. I wasn
’t sure
exactly where we stood with each other
after his birthday party, but I knew my brother wasn
’
t
happy with us. I
’
m hoping this weekend I can get back to
thinking straight. Ever since Skyler kissed me I
’
ve been
so messed up going back and forth between whether or not it
’
s
a good idea to get into something beyond friendship with him.
Gloomy and dark skies await us up ahead. I usually
love thunderstorms, but Skyler has had his license for barely a week, and we
’
re already heading into a two hour drive filled with storms. I
don
’
t want to panic because it will possibly make him
nervous, so I
’
m just lightly gripping onto the door.
“You okay?” he wonders, observing my defensive
movement. The rain is splattering down all around us but visibility is still
decent. When I nod silently, he sees right through me. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” I reply wearily.
I assume he wants me to text his parents or
something, but instead he orders, “Reach into the backseat in my duffle bag and
grab my sweatshirt that
’
s laying on top.”
“It
’
s June, and you
’
re bringing a sweatshirt to the lake?” I question as I loosen
the seat belt and turn around to dig in his bag.
“I knew it was going to storm, which usually makes
the temperature drop. Besides, you know our parents love to crank the A.C.,” he
informs me. Rolling my eyes, I tug the sweatshirt out and throw it over the
seat and into my lap. Before I can ask if he wants to wear it, he tells me, “Put
it on.”
“What?” I reply, scrunching my eyebrows at him in
confusion. With the air conditioning pouring out of the vents and the storm
brewing above us, I
’
m cold with a mix of nervous hot
flashes. I want to know that everything is going to be okay. I know it
’
s ironic that as a daredevil I
’
m afraid of
riding in a storm, but everything is out of my control and that
’
s
what makes me nervous. I also want to make sure everything is going to be okay
between me and Skyler and all of our siblings and friends. I hate this “every
person for his or her self”
shit we
’
re
playing.
“Put it on,” he repeats.
Still confused, I oblige to his odd request and
suddenly am grateful to be wrapped in what feels like a giant teddy bear hug.
It
’
s a zip up hoodie that
’
s extra
fuzzy like a lamb on the inside. I
’
m drowning in it, but
it only makes me feel more snuggly.
“How is this a favor for you?” I wonder, stretching
the sleeves so my fingers can feel the fuzzy inside, too.
“I want you to feel safe, and since I can
’
t even fucking hold your hand right now because I
’
m
using both of mine to drive, I was hoping my sweatshirt would make you feel
okay and be able to trust me,” he explains. He lets this idea sink into my head
and then asks, “Better?” It
’
s definitely the most
heartfelt thing I
’
ve ever witnessed him do; well, besides
tackle me away from the bunny and let it bite him instead of me.
Is Skyler
Swanson getting soft?
Actually I’m pretty sure he’s just as nervous
as I appear. I’m not as anxious as I look because I know if something happens
to me, Skyler will be right here next to me.
It’s us against this storm…
The rain turns into a downpour as thunder and
lightning crackle around us, but I nod truthfully. When the radio starts to get
fuzzy ten minutes later, I can
’
t determine if it
’
s from the storm or from crossing county lines, but it makes me
a little paranoid.
“Sky, you can see okay, right?” I try to ask calmly.
“Yeah, I got my lights on,” he assures me. I reach to
switch the radio station and a clearer one comes in so I leave it alone and
breathe deeply. “If you want me to get off and let some of this pass, I will.”
“Just if it gets any worse,” I tell him. I have to
trust that he
’
ll keep me safe.
We drive for about a half hour until we
’
re
directly in the storm
’
s eye. Before I can even ask, Skyler
is slowly getting off at the next exit. He pulls into a nearby Ma and Pa diner
parking lot.
“You want to eat or just sit here and wait it out?” he
offers me.
“Let
’
s eat,” I decide, throwing
the hood of his sweatshirt over my head. We both get wet just going the twenty
feet from his Jeep to the door of the diner, but it
’
s only
enough to make us cold. When the waitress escorts us both to a booth, Skyler
follows me into one side like we
’
re waiting for two more
people to join us. Except we aren
’
t.
“What are you doing?”
I question him.
It
’
s like we
’
re suddenly on an
awkward date but the only reason it
’
s awkward is because I
’
m acting like a nervous little school girl. I haven
’
t talked to him since his birthday party when he kissed me
because we both got yelled at afterwards by my brother and our friends. And
then I made him promise not to kiss me again this morning. I
’
ve
spent fourteen years swooning for him and he finally kisses me and I make him
vow to never do it again. What am I doing to myself?
“I want to stretch my legs and don
’
t
want to get you all wet,” he explains.
Oh… right.
“Can we just split something? I
’
m
not overly hungry,” I confess.
I
’
m overly
nervous though.
“Sure. Your usual? Pancakes, eggs, and hash browns?” he
rattles off. When I give him a are-you-stalking-me look, he laughs. “I
’
ve eaten breakfast with you enough to know what you like, so
don
’
t give me that look.”
“That one summer we spent almost every day together
with Rex and you couldn
’
t remember my freaking name come
October, but sure, you remember what I like for breakfast,” I tease, rolling my
eyes. He
’
s full of surprises, I guess.
“I was like nine,” he reminds me. “And you got a
kickass nickname out of it.”
“A kickass nickname that let
’
s
people make fun of me and call me butch,” I mutter, fidgeting in the booth
beside him. There
’
s a tear in the lining with some fuzz
poking out of it that reminds me of his sweatshirt I
’
m
wearing.
This makes him lean over the table slightly to look
at me at a different angle with intense eyes. I didn
’
t
mean to piss him off, but I guess I did. “Who the fuck makes fun of you?” he
demands to know. This is the protectiveness I love from him. It
’
s
possessive without being brotherly.
“People at school. They know I play softball and that
my nickname is Buzz. That
’
s all they need to know,” I tell
him as I try to look away and brush it off. It
’
s mostly
just people who no one respects at school anyways; I really don
’
t
care. Cheerleaders are bitches.
“I
’
m sorry. That
’
s
really shitty of them. I can try to stop calling you that if you want,” he
genuinely apologizes, sitting back against the booth again.
“No… I like it. And I can handle the criticism,” I
shrug.
“I know you can, but that doesn
’
t
mean you have to,” he argues. “You know you
’
re the
furthest thing from butch. You are a daring, crazy, gorgeous girl that only has
haters because people want to be like you.”
I suddenly just feel the urge to lean on him. When he
reaches his arm over my shoulder to pull me closer, I don
’
t
fight it. I don
’
t think of it as a romantic moment either;
it
’
s just something shared between two people who are
really close. Skyler is just someone, one of few in the world, that makes me
feel worthy, like he
’
s always on my team.
“
Thanks, Sky,
” I mumble.
While snuggled into Skyler
’
s
side, I eat my half of our entree while trying to tune out his fingertips
brushing against my arm. His baseball pants and backwards hat already hypnotize
me enough; I don
’
t need to slip deeper into his trans.
Plus it
’
s weird that he
’
s doing it,
whether or not it
’
s intentional. It
’
s
a good weird, but still mind-boggling.
Once we finish eating, the rain has let up enough
that we can now see across the street from the diner. It doesn
’
t
look like it
’
s going to completely stop anytime soon, so
we decide to continue on our way to the cabin.
“Will you still drive carefully?” I hope as we close
the doors to his Jeep.
“I
’
ve never let anything happen
to you before, and I have bite marks to prove it,” he answers me with a
prideful grin as he points out the scar on his leg. As he backs out of the
parking spot and heads for the highway I snuggle into the seat while drowning
myself in his sweatshirt again.
When we finally make it to the cabin by mid afternoon, it
’
s still storming like someone has royally pissed off Mother
Nature. The adults are all in the main level living room when we arrive, and my
mom greets me with an anxious hug as if I could
’
ve died on
my drive up here. I suppose I could
’
ve, but I didn
’
t really think about that. She
’
s my mom;
she
’
s supposed to worry and over exaggerate especially now
that I
’
m driving.
Apparently while I
’
m graciously
accepting my mom
’
s welcoming, Buzz is already heading
downstairs to the basement where all of our siblings and friends are watching
The Sandlot for the hundredth time. It
’
s our classic it
’
s-raining-at-the-cabin movie. Pillows and blankets are
scattered all over the floor in a big comfy mess. I want nothing more than to
enjoy it, but the tension in the room is at an all-time high the moment I take
the last step down the stairs. Alex, Benny, and Tiffany are all glaring at me
as if to say, “I
’
m watching you.”
To try to allow for some air in the room, I take a
seat on the couch against the back wall perpendicular to the TV. Buzz sits a
few feet in front of me, teasing me in not only what looks to be the fluffiest
bunch of pillows and blankets but also in my fucking sweatshirt. I love that
she doesn
’
t care that it drowns her or that her best
friend totally noticed it
’
s mine and is still piercing her
eyes into me. Tiffany should just be happy I got Buzz to come.
As I happen to be watching Buzz find a comfortable
way to sit in all that fluff, an abnormally bright lightning bolt strikes
across the lake, and about four seconds later an earth-shattering thunder
shakes the house. Sam squeals like a baby pig, drawing everyone
’
s
attention to him while Buzz also jumps a foot and grasps my sweatshirt over her
chest.
Ahh, why is that so attractive?
“You are the jumpiest daredevil if there ever was
one,” I whisper when her eyes meet mine as she examines her immediate
surroundings.
“If only I had someone to cuddle me so I could calm
down,” she teases me, making me narrow my eyes at her. When I feel more eyes
focusing on us, I back into the couch and relax my face. Alex, Benny, and
Tiffany have all been giving the two of us the same look I just gave Buzz. At
least we
’
re all on the same page.
“Bianca, want to help me get some popcorn for
everyone?” Benny asks her, already getting up from his seat on the floor. That
’
s code for
I need to talk to you
. Since when does he
speak Girl? Fuck, I just translated it!
I wonder what he
’
s
going to fucking say to her.
They have a weird relationship. He
’
s
like her brother except she still talks to him about whatever is going on in
her “love life.” She stopped telling Alex that stuff when he got a girlfriend
at the beginning of last year. I know because he told me. And so did she. They
constantly put me in between them to fight their battles. Benny, Tiffany, and I
kind of took over as Buzz
’
s go-to people. I
’
d
like to think I
’
m the closest person to Buzz, but even I
don
’
t know much other than she doesn
’
t
give two shits about rules and she wants to make JV softball as a freshman. I
still haven
’
t told her I think she should be thinking more
about Varsity.
I
’
ll let her figure it out herself;
it
’
ll mean more.
Buzz folds to Benny
’
s offer and
they disappear up the stairs. I can feel Alex fucking watching me, so I glue my
eyes to the TV, even as they rejoin us a few minutes later with bowls of
popcorn. Tiffany and Sam are suddenly snuggled up and sharing a bowl between
them, but instead of flipping out like Alex does with me and Buzz, I fucking
laugh. If those two ever really get together, it
’
ll be the
most dysfunctional relationship in the world. I hope that
’
s
not what Alex thinks when he looks at us.
Buzz is no longer wearing my sweatshirt but has it
draped over one of her arms until she sits down on a giant pillow on the floor.
After watching her fold it, I hold my breath to watch her next move which I
assume will be placing it on my lap like she no longer needs it or me.
Wrong.
She places it on the open space next to her and lies
down on it to use it as a pillow for her head. I wonder if anyone else saw
that. Ha, doesn
’
t matter - I did.
That evening we celebrate my birthday with a grill
out on the covered deck and birthday cake inside since the storm is lasting all
day and all night. Luckily I
’
m not high maintenance when
it comes to celebrating me, or anything really. For once in the last three
weeks it finally feels like we
’
re a fucking family again,
like we
’
re all kids and hormones don
’
t
exist. The girls sit on one side of the room while the boys sit on the other
like we all have cooties. My mom pulls out the birthday cake with lit candles
as everyone choruses in singing “Happy birthday” to me. I blow out the candles,
leaving just one lit on accident until I take another breath to put it out. The
moms are worse than the actual teenaged girls in the room, looking at each
other as if one candle being lit means something fucking stupid. I stand up
from my chair to let my mom cut the cake and pass out slices to everyone, but
really I
’
m going to the refrigerator that I know has
vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Just like every other birthday celebration or
holiday in her entire life, Buzz is uninterested in the dessert. It isn
’
t that she
’
s watching her weight or something
fucking stupid like that; she just hates sprinkles and chocolate like you
wouldn
’
t believe. And my mom, of course, thought I was
kidding when I told her to get a cake without sprinkles or chocolate. She
always thinks I
’
m kidding when I say that for all of our
family get togethers because she knows I like them.
“What are you doing?”
Buzz
’
s quiet whisper asks me as she opens the fridge to grab
something to drink.
“Getting you ice cream,” I tell her as I scoop the
ice cream on the counter a foot away. I might give her store-bought cookies and
cream ice cream if our parents ever bought any, but they don
’
t. So I
’
m making it by crushing up Oreos,
which personally I think is better anyhow. The real cream in “cookies and cream”
is the frosting from the Oreo. You don
’
t get that in
store-bought.
“
I don’
t need anything,” she
tries arguing.
“You can try to fool our moms, but you won
’
t fool me,
” I sing to her. She just
finished telling my mom she doesn
’
t want cake, and even
after all these years, no one but me understands why.
“I
’
m not trying to fool anyone,”
she quietly snaps. “
I don’
t need dessert. I
’
m full.”
“Humor me and eat this,” I demand after I finish
putting two scoops in a bowl, crushing two Oreos, and mixing it all up. Then I
shove the bowl into her stomach.
We both feel a roomful of eyes on us, so I quickly
leave the kitchen and resume my seat at the head of the table as my mom
finishes passing out slices of cake to everyone. As Buzz sits down next to
Tiffany and Baylee, I look up and see her silently mouth, “Thank you,” to me.
Whatever this secretive shit is that
’
s
going on between us is driving me abso-fucking-lutely crazy but in the best way
possible. I don
’
t know if it was me giving her my
sweatshirt to cuddle with in the car or if she actually liked when I kissed her
at my birthday party, but she
’
s definitely sending me
signals. They
’
re fucking mixed signals, but they
’
re signals nonetheless.
I need a translator!
Later as everyone disperses around the house, I can
’
t find Buzz anywhere. All of us guys go into one of the
upstairs bedrooms to play Yahtzee, but she doesn
’
t come
with us. After a few rounds, I notice her absence and excuse myself to go to
the bathroom. I
’
m actually looking for her though. I check
both porches since that
’
s where she can usually be found
but she
’
s no where. I glance out onto the lake as the rain
makes it too hard to see all the way across it like normal.
I swear to
God if she went out there in this fucking storm… But I wouldn
’
t
put it past her to do something like that. If she wants to be alone and that
’
s not possible in the crowded house, she
’
ll
find a way. The one (good) bad thing about going to the cabin is that none of
us ever have our cell phones on us, so I can
’
t even try to
call her.
“Hey, have you guys seen Buzz?” I ask when I walk in
the basement as the other girls are playing cards.
“No. Try in the bedrooms,” Baylee suggests.
Not in
there.
“If she didn
’
t
even tell
you
where she was going she probably wants to be alone,”
Tiffany adds. This is probably true, but I don
’
t care. I
want to find her.
“Fuck off, Tiffany,” I yell at her.
When I walk back up to the main level, I ask the
parents the same question. Buzz
’
s mom doesn
’
t even stop her conversation with Theresa and my mom until she
’
s the only one in the room who
’
s talking
and realizes everyone is waiting for her to answer.
“Oh, um, I think she
’
s on the
front porch,” she replies and goes back to finishing her thought from before. “So,
anyways-” Beth
’
s voice sounds like an off-pitch flute.
“No. I already looked out there,” I interrupt her
again. I
’
m actually getting worried that no one knows
where she is or what she
’
s doing. Apparently I
’
m the only one who cares, too; as usual.
“I
’
m sure she
’
s
around here somewhere,” Beth brushes me off again. I can
’
t
believe the lack of concern in her mom
’
s voice. I guess
that
’
s why Buzz bolted when we first got here; she didn
’
t want to deal with her mom
’
s shit.
Her
daughter does crazy shenanigans all the time. If Buzz was my kid I would
constantly be worried about her. I feel in my shorts
’
pocket
for my car keys and feel nothing. Oh my God.
“Where are my car keys?” I panic, looking at my mom
in fear. My heart feels like it
’
s been dropped off a fifty
story building.
“
I don’
t know; where did you
leave them?” my mom asks calmly. I definitely didn
’
t get
my overreacting skills from her. I don’t actually care that my keys are
missing; I care about the person who took them. She better not have taken my
Jeep out in this fucking storm and gotten in an accident.
“I thought they were in my pocket,” I think aloud, my
eyes darting around the room at the empty counters and shelves.
“Maybe they
’
re in your gym bag,”
my mom tells me. I walk down the front hallway where I left my bag and kneel
over, rummaging through it like a maniac. “Skyler, calm down. You
’
ll
find them.”
“
Is my Jeep even here?
” I
realize it
’
s totally probable that Buzz took it.
“Why wouldn
’
t it be?”
my mom wonders.
“Because Buzz is crazy enough to take it out in this
weather,” I shout.
“
She doesn
’
t
even have her temps yet,” Beth calls from the kitchen. Now she listens?
“Yeah, like that
’
ll
stop her,
” I mutter. I
’
m so glad that out of
everyone in the fucking house I
’
m the only one that knows
Buzz. Now I understand why she always wants to get out.
Jumping up, I open the front door to see a torrential
downpour and a blurry Buzz sitting in the passenger side of my Jeep. The
windows are a little foggy, and I wonder when she came out here and how no one
noticed. I release a huge sigh of relief from my congested chest. I run out and
join her in the driver
’
s seat.