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“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you coming up and didn’t want to say anything that would make you lose your balance on the ladder. I–uh, I can leave if you want? Do you come here a lot?”
Jesus, fuck Emmett.Do you come here a lot?I admit it’s been a while, but since when do I ramble and word vomit and accidentally throw out cheesy pick up lines?
The girl is staring at me, not saying anything. Her hair is even more coppery orange than I first thought, now that I can see her more clearly in the small amount of light on the platform. It explodes around her face in big waves like a rolling campfire. She has a smattering of light freckles across her nose and cheeks. She’s not wearing any makeup, and she’s–she’s gorgeous.
She’s a far cry from the girls I’m usually attracted to. The ones I usually go after are the lots of makeup, high heels and short skirts–even in winter–type.
“Who the hell are you and why are you on my water tower?” she demands, finally speaking.
I have to choke down a laugh at her sudden outburst. The girls I usually go after also never yell at me like this.
“Uh,yourwater tower? I’m pretty sure the city owns this sweetheart,” I say, giving her my best cocky grin I can muster, some of my confidence coming back.
“Actually, this is my family's property and we rent out the space to the city,” she snaps back, folding her arms in front of her chest.
When her arms fold under her breasts they push against the fabric and I can tell now she’s not wearing a bra. Her nipples, hard from the cold, are bulging against the material.
“Are you cold, or are you happy to see me?” I ask, nodding my chin toward her.
She follows my gaze, looking down at herself, and lets out a small gasp before turning away from me.
She puts an end to my visual exploration when she zips up a jacket she pulled out from the bag she’s holding.
“You live in the little yellow house down the road?” I ask as she finishes covering up.
“Why do you want to know? Are you planning on following me home?”.
She’s staring daggers at me, her big, round eyes a mixture of defiance with a hint of fear.
I raise my hands in defense and lean away from her.
“What? No! I–you–you said your family owned this property.”
I have never, ever, in my life had a problem talking to girls. I had the ladies falling in love with me when I was only two years old. I went to prom my freshman year of high school with the senior prom queen. Why does this girl make me so–nervous? And why do I not know who she is?
“Wait, if you live in that house–” I say, pointing in the vague direction of it. “Why don’t I know you from school?”
Her eyes drop to her shoes and her lips purse together, twisting to the side before she replies to my question.
“I was homeschooled.”
I get the sense she may be a little embarrassed about this, but I’m not sure why. I would have been in heaven if my parents home schooled me and I could spend my days lounging in pajamas and having access to our stocked fridge all day. Her attitude and anger have dissipated and is replaced by a somberness.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried. I can go if you want.”
She looks back at me again, letting out an exasperated sigh and letting her arms hang loose next to her.
“No. It’s fine. Whatever. Could you at least move over? You’re sitting in the best spot for light.”
I scooch over, a little, and smile at her. She stares at me and I wonder if she’ll ask me to scoot over more but she slumps down to the ground in the spot I had previously occupied. There’s less than half a foot of space between us. I watch her as she pulls a large book out of her bag and opens it. On instinct I reach over to lift the cover so I can read it. When my hand gets close she startles and goes rigid.
“I’m only trying to read the cover, not cop a feel,” I say.
She meets my eyes, her own narrowed, but I don’t move my hand any closer. She gives me the tiniest of nods, giving me permission. I finish reaching for the book and lift it.
Organic Chemistry.
“Is this for school?” I ask, letting the book fall back to her lap. My fingers brush her thigh as I move my hand away and I feel her twitch. “Do you go to Pinehurst?”
