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“Don’t remember saying you could bring a rodent into my house.”
“It’s a bunny, not a rodent and you moved out. I moved in. House rules belong to me now. And his name is Thumper and I’m going to train him to become the general of my bunny armies that are going to take over the world. I had a lot of downtime in juvie so I have th
is figured out. Better be my friend or you’ll be sorry.”
West’s only response is a grin as he attacks a zombie on the screen. It was his conversations with his mother and father that convinced them to grant Abby the shot she needs to make a decent life for herself.
The party that was loud about an hour before has quieted down. Most of our commotion was from laughter as everyone caught Abby up on what she missed while she was in juvie.
There was a story of how Noah was stuck in some small town in Kansas when his bus broke down on his way to see his now fiancée, Echo, in Colorado. He survived off vending-machine food for over twenty-four hours. Ryan and Beth talked about how they got caught making out in his college team’s dugout. Beth told the story. Ryan was the one that smiled and turned red while she talked.
In the end, everyone had a story. Eager to catch Abby up. Eager for us to start fresh.
It’s late. Chris and his girlfriend Lacy left fifteen minutes ago. Chris is up early and works hard until late. Working on a farm, there’s no day off, but he enjoys it and there’s not much more you can ask out of life than to like your job.
No one else seems eager to leave and the night has moved into a mellowed comfortable state. Noah and West play Xbox games against Ryan and another friend of ours, Jax. I go to school with him, Rachel, Ethan and, starting in January, Abby. Ethan transferred over with Rachel, not wanting to be separated from her. Jax and West are tight and just because of how this group works, we’ve all become family. Rachel, Ethan, Jax, and I found the table Abby had mentally staked in the lunchroom and it’s been ours since the first day, just waiting for her to return.
Leaning on the massive oak bar surrounded by glass hutches, Echo, Beth, and Haley laugh at something Ethan says causing their guys to glance over at the group. The three girls are giving Ethan dating advice. I’ve snorted at over half of it, thinking it sounds insane, but I’d bet girls know better than me what another girl is looking for in a good first date.
A real first date... I pause. I need to take Abby out on one of those. Guess I should start taking notes.
The game on the TV continues, but I don’t miss how Noah’s gaze lingers on Echo. She’s been studying art in Colorado since late August. Noah and I have gotten to know each other better over the past few months. Both of us missing the girls we love.
But Echo is back in town for the Christmas break and the two of them have plans to be married when they graduate from college in two years, and Abby is back in the real world with me. Life has a way of working out.
Abby finishes her food, sets the empty plate on the table, and then scoots closer to me, easing her legs over my lap. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her since she walked in. It’s Abby. Her chestnut hair is longer, her hazel eyes a bit more hesitant, she’s lost some weight, looks like she could sleep for a year, but it’s her. Still gorgeous. Still dangerous. Still Abby.
It’s like she’s a dream and I’m scared to move too quickly or say too much or then she’ll vanish.
“Not really sure what the make-out rule is here,” she admits.
We both look over to the other side of the basement where Isaiah is on another couch with Rachel wrapped around him. Lights are off in that direction and I’d bet their kissing.
“Seems rather loose,” I say.
“All the same,” she says. “I don’t want to mess this one up.”
“You okay if I hold you?” I ask.
Abby releases that heart-stopping smile and slides until she fits perfectly onto my lap. But the moment she settles into me, she jumps and I grab hold of her before she can retreat. I know what she’s thinking, have an idea of what she might have felt.
I permit her to edge away just enough so I can pull up my shirt and expose the pump strapped to my stomach. It’s a few weeks old to me, but other than through email, new to her.
Abby delicately brushes her fingertips against the skin near the insulin pump. “Does it hurt?”
I shake my head, but her touch is burning me up. Going from a few months of not touching her at all to having her scent surrounding me and her warmth teasing me might kill me.
“Did it hurt when they did the procedure?” she asks.
“No.”
“Do you like it?” Abby’s forehead furrows as she studies the buttons, the screen, and then the tube that connects the pump to inside my body. Abby’s aware this was a tough choice for me and I can tell she’s trying to be careful with the conversation and her exploration.
“Some days yes. Some days no. More days I like it than not.”
“Fair enough.” Abby’s caress leaves the general area of my insulin pump and wanders to my chest.
“What happened to playing it safe?” I ask.
