I punch Archie in the leg as hard as I can. “Dead leg! You deserve that! Why did you tell mum that?”
He sits on the bed, rubbing his thigh. “First of all, ouch! Second of all, you do go all googly eyes when she’s near.” He shrugs.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t.” But he nods, and I know I’m not going to win this, so instead I say. “I’m going to go for a walk.”
As I get to the door, he mutters. “Yeah, a walk to Hayleigh’s room, maybe.”
**********
Standing outside of Hayleigh’s room, I lift my hand to knock, but my stomach sloshes, and my hands shake.
What if she shuts the door in my face? What if she thinks all I’m good for are a few jokes and nothing serious? Then I remember Archie’s and Emmy’s words. She needs help; she needs someone to help her smile and to make sure she enjoys this break, and I know I can do that. So I brave it and knock.
She yanks open the door with such force that for a moment I worry I’ve made a mistake, and then my eyes fall on her. She’s like every man's wet dream come true. Her hair is up in a ponytail that hangs over her shoulder. Her eyes pop from the makeup she has on; her full lips and perfect cupid's bow sit in a natural, permanent pout that every woman wishes they had.
And that dress.
I almost swallow my goddamn tongue. The bright blue material matches her eyes and wraps around her curves, reaching her mid-thigh. She’s taller than her usual five feet, all thanks to the sexy black heels, one strap across her toes and another around her ankle. My mouth salivates at the image of those heels, one on each shoulder, and I actually should probably say something now because I have definitely been staring for too long.
“Hayleigh, you’re fucking beautiful.”Very eloquent asshat.
She clearly tries to hide the giggle that bubbles up, and her cheeks tinge pink. “Thanks.”
I give her a pointed look. “You ran off from me earlier. Why?” There’s no point beating around the bush. I want her to be honest with me from the start.
She shakes her head, and I see her begin to shut down. “Nate, I can’t…”
I look at her for a moment, waiting to see if she changes her mind and opens up, but she doesn’t. I nod, maybe this was a mistake after all, but as I turn and walk away, she lets out a defeated sigh, and from that one sound, I know that she wants the help; she doesn’t know how to ask for it.
It was the same sound Archie made when his parents died, and I asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He was only ten years old when it happened. One night I’d snuck out of my house in the middle of the night and rode my bike to where he was staying. A Foster Home. He said he hated it; he told me they weren’t nice to him, they never gave him full meals, and generally ignored him as if he didn’t exist.
I remember throwing stones at his window that night, his face peeking out with a toothless grin, while his blonde hair flopped about the place. He climbed out of the window and down the drainpipe, then he rode on the back of my bike up the hill until we reached the park, where we stayed until the morning, talking about everything he’d missed at school while staying with his foster family. I’d asked him if he was okay, and he nodded, telling me it was fine, and somehow, even at ten years old myself, I knew he didn’t mean it. There was clearly more he wanted to say, and when he sighed and screwed up his face, trying not to cry, I told him it was okay, and when he was ready, he could tell me. That morning, my dad found us after my mum realised I was out of bed; they were all frantic and worried, and I was grounded for life. I told them that was okay, but only if Archie could live with us, and not long after, my parents were allowed to adopt him.
I didn’t give up on Archie.
I’m not giving up on Hayleigh, so I take my paper and pen, and I turn back around.
Chapter 3
Hayleigh
He’s infuriating.
That is the only way to describe Nate Peterson, who is sitting right next to me, looking all angelic after telling me precisely what he would do if we were having sex. So now, naturally, all I am thinking about is having sex with him.
You know you want to.
Oh, shut up, brain. I don’t have time for you right now.
“Is that a yes then?” Nate looks at me expectantly, and I’m mortified that I didn’t even hear his question. Wait, did he ask me to have sex or something normal?Sex mad.
“Shut up!” Oh my god. My cheeks are like a furnace. Why did I shout that out?It’s not my fault.I close my eyes and squeeze them tight before taking a deep breath. When I open them, Nate looks amused. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking to you just then; I didn’t hear the question.”
He leans his elbow on the arm of the couch and rests his head on his fist, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you odd?”
I bristle. “Well, that’s a bit rude.”
He laughs. “You just told me to shut up, then told me you weren’t talking to me. Wait. You don’t see dead people, do you, because I really don’t like the idea of ghosts.” He shivers dramatically, and I find myself rolling my eyes.
