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I watch her with pure fascination as she picks up yet another book, running her hand over the cover slowly before flipping it over to see the back. Books give her joy—that’s pretty obvious. I wouldn’t say hockey gives me joy—that isn’t it. It gives me purpose. And it’s a place where I am free to take out my aggression. I’ve always had a darkness lurking inside me, secretly hiding. Some rage or fury. I think we all do. And hockey is a place for me to get that out in a productive way. But lately, it seems more like a job.
The only peace I seem to find these days is when I’m putting a smile on Haley Thompson’s lips. And that’s the truth.
Getting high or fucked up certainly doesn’t give me any joy or bring me happiness. When I first tried drinking and drugs, itnumbed some of the shit I didn’t want to feel. Like the pain of missing Eli. And the memory of him taking his last breath in my arms, my shirt soaked in his blood. Or the guilt that consumes every cell in my body, reminding me that my big mouth had gotten him shot. I needed a way to live with myself. And pills, unfortunately, became my way. Now … well, now, my brain is just fucking wired to need them.
But she takes away my pain. I just don’t know if she’s strong enough to handle it.
By now, Haley has five books stacked in her arms. I’ve only been in her room briefly, but I didn’t see any books in there, aside from the ones on her nightstand. So, I don’t know where the hell she keeps them.
“Hey, where do you keep these books anyway?” I ask. “I’ve never seen them in your room.”
She sighs, kneeling down to look at another one. “They are in the closet for now. I don’t have a bookcase. I did at my parents’ house. But the dorm was too small for that. So, they are all boxed up.” Her face lights up, and she pushes up to stand. “One day, I’ll have them all on full display on a big bookcase. It’ll be light blue.”
“Light blue?” I rear my head back. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen a blue bookcase.” I laugh. “Who am I kidding? I’m no bookcase expert.”
She looks down at her books and smiles. “I love the color blue. Especially light blue. And when I was a kid, I always wanted a baby-blue bookcase, but my mom said no. It didn’t go with our …decor. So, anyway, my brother Holden always promised me that, someday, he’d build me one. He said he’d learn how.” Her smile disappears. “He didn’t get a chance to, but someday, I will have one. And maybe even a little reading nook area.”
“Yeah, you will. I know it,” I say softly.
Because I’m going to make sure of it.
Looking at a book with a weird cover that has cartoon characters on it with no faces, I pick it up. “What do you like about them? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Books?” she says, heading down another aisle. “I love getting lost in a whole other world. The problems aren’t my own, but I feel them at the same magnitude as if they were.” She inhales. “But you know what I love most about books? That the impossible can happen. The most unlikely couple can get their happy ending. An evil villain can become someone’s hero. And the underdog can come out on top.” She shrugs, holding her books tight to her chest. “Anything can happen in the world of fiction. And that’s what makes it so special.”
I stare at her, completely entranced before I eventually clear my throat. “What about the books without a happy ending? You don’t read those?”
“Well, I try my best not to read them. I’m ahappily ever aftergirl at heart. And when it doesn’t end that way, I’m furious.” She breathes out a laugh. “The few times I accidentally read a book with a sad ending, I made up a second version of them in my head. One where everything was happy and perfect by the last and final page.”
“You’re an optimist.” I say it like a statement, not a question.
“I suppose I am.” She nods. “I’m not ignorant, thinking there’s nothing wrong with the world. It’s easy to look around and see that there’s darkness. But I truly believe that every person on this earth has some good inside them. It just takes the right somebody to find it.”
As she starts looking again, I stuff my hand in my pocket and shift on my feet. But when my fingertips touch the little plastic baggie I shoved in there before we left, I’m reminded that I’ll never be more than an addict. And addicts don’t get girls like Haley Thompson.
She’s smart. She’s funny and kind. She’s perfect. She’s looking at me right now like I hung the moon just by bringing her here today. If only she knew the truth, she’d run away and never look back. I’m not ready for her to do that. I’m not ready to let her go.
“All right, so you ate enough sugar in the car to probably qualify for a diabetes screening, we got our dirty nerdy on at the bookstore, and now … we’re about to eat some pizza.” I wave toward Main Street in Topsam—a town forty-five minutes from Brooks. “Just in this one area alone, there are three pizza joints. All of them sell pizza by the slice.” I raise an eyebrow, giving her an inquisitive look. “Whatcha say, my dirty book lover? Try ’em all and find the best one?”
The area between her brows crinkles as she stares at me, her mouth hanging open subtly. “You remembered everything I said from my list of things I can’t live without?” she whispers, completely surprised. “Seriously?”
“I did,” I say like it’s no big deal. “I didn’t bother stopping for sugary cereal because, well, one, we have a shit ton at home. And, two, I was actually afraid you’d end up in a sugar coma, and I’m not all that good with medical shit. Not like you anyway. Coming from a family of doctors and going to be one yourself.”
“I came from a family of them, yes. But I don’t know about that last part.” She sighs before looking toward one of the pizza places. “I can’t believe you remembered everything I told you.”
She gazes up at me and gives me that look—like I hung the moon or painted the stars in the sky. I’m not worthy of it, butI’ll bask in it anyway because it makes me feel so fucking good inside.
“I remember everything when it comes to you,” I utter, and in this moment, I swear that if I pulled her in to kiss her, it would be the most natural thing in the whole damn world. But instead, I reach out and dab the tip of her nose with my finger. “So? What do you say? Pizza or bust?”
“Pizza or bust,” she says, nodding slowly. “You’re just full of surprises, Cade Huff.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I mutter. Because to be honest, I’m surprised with myself.
Swinging my arms, I smack my palms together. Then, I throw my arm around her shoulders and drag her against me. “Let’s do it! My money is on Rosalie’s Pizza being the best.”
Gazing up at me, she raises an eyebrow. “I’m guessing Brewer’s will be the best. Care to make this bet interesting?”
“I’m listening,” I drawl.
