“Oh, thank God,” I whispered, releasing a heavy breath. I’d covered every inch of the ranch, starting with the doghouse, and hadn’t been able to find Justin anywhere. It figured he’d be in the last place I looked—not that I would’ve kept looking after I’d found him. I never had understood that expression.
Not wanting to spook him, I padded quietly past Oakley’s stall to my favorite spot on the entire property. It was fitting I’d find him here.
“I’ve always loved the way the sunset reflects on the pond,” I murmured, coming to a stop just behind him. Justin’s spine tensed and I added, “It’s peaceful.”
Eyes wary, he glanced at me over his shoulder. “Yeah. It is.”
Pursing my lips, trying my best to keep the vomit of questions I had for him contained, I strolled around the picnic table and hopped up to sit on its surface. Close, but not too close, in case he still needed space. Quietly, we watched the colors in the sky grow warm.
When he’d taken off like a bat out of hell earlier, I’d stood frozen for a full minute, paralyzed by indecision. Should I follow him? Did he want me to? I wasn’t even sure what had happened. One moment we were laughing, playing my family’s silly game, and I was thinking how awesome it was that I’d gotten to share it with Justin. The next, he was gone.
Had he hated it that much? Had he been bored? He’d seemed to be enjoying himself… but what the heck did I know anyway? Boys in general were still a mystery, but I’d thought I was getting to know this one pretty well. Bolting like a spooked horse, though, was weird.
“Sorry.” Justin sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. “I just… needed a minute.”
“I get it,” I told him, scooting slightly closer. “Hey, my family is a lot to take. Now, the secret’s out: I’m a geek who hails from a nutcase family. I don’t blame you for running while you still could. There was gonna be an initiation after the match.”
A hint of a smile played at his lips. “Geeks aren’t so bad. Haven’t you seen The Big Bang Theory? Nutcases are all the rage these days.”
At his teasing chuckle, I slid over again, removing the distance between us. Our shoulders bumped and I noticed for the first time a small spiral notebook in his left hand. The same kind I’d seen in his room. Justin noticed where I was looking and turned back to the pond.
“Had to clear the white noise,” he explained, tapping the notebook against his thigh.
So many questions flooded my mind, but I promised myself I wouldn’t push. So, against every curious-cat instinct I had, I asked, “Do you want me to go?” Please say no, please say no.
“Nah.”
Justin beat the notebook on his leg again, eyes unfocused on the water, obviously lost in thought. I felt so helpless. He was so much more sensitive than anyone knew, and while I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and hold him, I didn’t know if I’d be welcomed. Instead, I decided to try and lighten the mood.
“You’re lucky I’m not swiping that book and running for the hills,” I said, leaning into his body. “If I recall, I did vow to read your stuff one day, and here you are, flaunting it in front of my face.”
I grinned to show I was teasing and he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. Then, shocking the ever-loving hell out of me, he handed it over.
My mouth tumbled open in shock. “Really?”
Justin lifted his chin in a nod and glanced at the water. Hesitantly, with trembling hands, I set the notebook in my lap and took a breath. This felt huge. Monumental. I was about to get a peek inside the secret musings of the undisputed bad boy of Fairfield Academy.
If not for the constant rubbing of his fingers, the increased rise and fall of his chest, I’d have no clue this bothered him. That it did, and he was letting me read it anyway, warmed my heart. I made a promise to myself right then and there—whether his writing was good or bad, I would praise him.
I turned the cover.
And fell even deeper in love.
Lyrics that clearly meant something to him. Notes on how he played a particular day, what he wanted to improve. And poetry. God, the poetry!
Short phrases and lines like: “Head down. Work Harder. Don’t let them see that you care.”
And longer ones, obviously about his dad. I stopped at one about half-way through the book, and tears filled my eyes.
Man I Need to Be
Hey, look at me!
Am I everything I’m supposed to be?
Do you even care?
Do you see the burden I bear?
Hey, look at me!
Am I the man I need to be?
You are never there.
Maybe I never really had a prayer.
HEY, look at me!
You look, but never really see.
Time with me, not a second to spare.
A kingdom of loneliness and I’m the heir.