Page 15 of Some Kind of Normal


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“You’re lying.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t know.” A slow smile crept over his face. “Maybe because I’m a moron?”

I opened my mouth to reply but had nothing, and the two of us stood there for a long time, so close I only had to lean forward and I could bury my face in his chest. And that’s pretty much all I was thinking about right now. What he would feel like. Warm. Hard. Alive.

“I can’t figure you out,” he said so softly that at first I wasn’t sure he’d even spoken.

“Why would you want to?” I blurted.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Maybe because you’re nothing like I remember, and for once, I’m pretty sure that thought has more to do with reality and less to do with”—he tapped his forehead—“the brain malfunctioning.”

“You are.” I blew out a breath.

“I’m what?”

“You seem the same.”

There was that lopsided smile again. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but trust me, Everly, I’m not that guy anymore.”

Slowly he reached for me, and I inhaled sharply when his hand tucked a long strand of hair behind my ear.

“Well, I’m just a girl,” I finally managed to say. “No big mystery here.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“You have a very different view of yourself from the one that I see.” His tone was light, teasing even, and I relaxed a bit.

“Really.”

“From the whole universe, if you want to know the truth.”

“The whole universe?” I tried to hide my grin but it was hard. “That’s pretty big and far-reaching.”

“Yep.” Trevor moved to the side. “Good thing I’ve got the whole summer to work on it.”

“On what?”

“On figuring you out.”

The thought of Trevor Lewis figuring me out was not only terrifying, it made no sense. I chewed on my bottom lip, curious. “I was such a bitch at the library. Most guys would just blow me off.”

“Most guys like a challenge.”

“I disagree. Most guys like the easy win. The slam dunk. The whole nine yards.”

“I’m not most guys, Everly.” He wasn’t teasing anymore. “A year and a half ago, I would have blown you off. I would have told you exactly where to go.” He shoved his hands back into the pockets of his jeans, and I noticed goose bumps on his arms. “Truth?” He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe most guys would just say screw it. Or maybe I need to pass the government test so badly, I’m willing to spend the summer with a girl who’s cold as hell one moment and the next she’s talking about ink and Elton John. We’re going to be spending the summer together, so we should at least try to get along. Don’t you think?”

Panic. I felt it nipping at my toes, clawing its way up my legs until it landed hard in my stomach. So I dug in. “I’m sure your pretty little blond friend won’t like that.”

“Who? Jess?”

“Is that her name?” I knew exactly who she was.

“Jess is just a girl I know,” Trevor said. “But you’re…” His voice trailed into nothing, and my stomach tumbled again. This time harder.

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