Hey Sunshine

HEY SUNSHINE

Tia Giacalone

Copyright © 2015 by Tia Giacalone

All rights reserved.

Cover design © Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

Cover photograph © Maja Topcagic

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9962774-0-2

ISBN-10: 0996277404

Tia Giacalone

Visit my website at
www.tiawritesbooks.com

This book is dedicated to anyone who ever wanted more and wasn’t afraid to reach out and grab it.

PROLOGUE

“You can’t wear that, Avery. The guy is flying two thousand miles to come home, for God’s sake. Show him some cleavage, at least.” Heather Wilson shook her head, clearly disappointed by my fashion choices.

I rolled my eyes at my best friend’s disgusted look.

“What do you expect me to do, put on a pageant dress? We’re meeting him at the
bus depot
, Heather. I know the whole town will be there but it’s not exactly a black-tie affair.”

I self-consciously smoothed my hands down the bodice of my knee-length cotton dress. When I first bought it, it had seemed breezy, cute, and comfortable – perfect for a hot, late-August night in West Texas – but now I was reconsidering. What did you wear to welcome your former high-school boyfriend home from fighting wildfires?

Heather snorted, an unladylike sound that was totally out of place with her primly styled chestnut hair and petite frame, but I knew better. Snorting was only the beginning.

“As if we’d have any idea what it’s like to attend an actual fancy event. Meeting the Greyhound for the hometown hero is as exciting as it gets around here.” Surveying my closet, she sighed. “Seriously, that dress is boring. It’s not like you haven’t had time to prepare.” She crossed her arms and studied me. “I’ll run home and bring over a couple options.”

“Yeah right, anything of yours will be way too short and tight,” I protested. “That ship has sort of sailed.”

“Avery Kent, this is your life,” Heather admonished me dramatically. “Don’t be such an old lady. You’re not even twenty-three, remember? If you’re going to do this, do it right.” And she disappeared out of the room.

I pulled the rejected dress over my head and tossed it onto the unmade bed. The room was stifling, so I opted to stay in my sports bra and shorts as long as possible instead of getting fully dressed. Central air was an unrealistic dream on a part-time waitress, full-time college student salary. Dropping into the overstuffed chair next to my bed, I leaned my head against the cushion and closed my eyes.

Chapter 1

Four Years Ago

“Avery! Wait up!”

I turned and saw Chase Dempsey jogging toward me, still in his practice jersey with his helmet in his hands. My cheeks immediately flushed. Why was our state champion quarterback talking to me? Had he seen me earlier, watching the drills in the stands?

As far as I could remember, we hadn’t spoken since seventh grade when he had asked to copy my math homework. Before that, I’d given him half of my peanut butter sandwich when we were eight and he’d dropped his hamburger on the floor at lunch. Not exactly life-altering moments but I remembered them. Did he?

I usually steered clear of football, but for senior year I’d been assigned to cover the team after one of the other students on the paper transferred to another school. I knew next to nothing about the game – practically blasphemous in this county – so I’d started watching the practices last week.

“Hi,” I squeaked as Chase came to a stop in front of me.

“Hey,” he said, giving me an easy smile. “I saw you from the field. Why’d you leave?”

“Um.” I wracked my brain for something cool or offhand to say but came up with nothing. “I had to go.”
I had to go? Really Avery?
I gave myself a mental head shake.

Chase’s smile faltered for a second at my vague answer but he recovered quickly. “I was wondering if you had plans for Friday, after the game? After we demolish them, I mean,” Chase added, his grin growing even bigger.

Plans? Is he asking me out?
No way. He probably just needed help with his English homework. “I don’t know…” I said, feeling my face heat up again. “Why?”

“A bunch of us are going over to Kyle’s house for a party, and I thought maybe you'd like to go. With me,” he elaborated.

“You’re inviting me to go with you to a party at Kyle’s? Kyle Hill?” I asked incredulously.

Brancher was a ridiculously small town with a definite hierarchy, featuring the football team and their friends at the top of the food chain. Those parties were strictly for the A-list crowd at our high school, and a shy, serious, journalism club girl like me didn’t make the cut. I was the girl with stacks of college brochures and lists of pros and cons for each one; the girl who color coded her notes by class and always turned in her assignments promptly – never the one who flirted in the hallways or led the dance-planning committees. I had friends of course, and even a few dates, but Chase’s group typically passed by me like I was invisible.

“Why not?” Chase laughed.

“But we’re not– we don’t–” I stopped talking before I could sound any more flustered.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while, Avery,” Chase admitted, and I felt my heart speed up a little. He was so cute. “C’mon, come with me. It’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Why not?” I looked toward the parking lot and saw Heather standing there, a puzzled look on her face.

“Cool. I’ll call you.” Chase winked at me and ran off.

I walked over to where Heather was waiting somewhat impatiently. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“What did Chase Dempsey want?” she asked immediately.

“He wanted… to go out with me,” I said, still mulling it around in my head. “Weird, right?”

“I don’t know why this is so unbelievable to you,” Heather rolled her eyes as we got into her parents’ station wagon. “I told you that after that growth spurt this summer added four inches onto your legs and you got your braces off, the boys would come running.”

“Shut up,” I said, looking at myself closely in the visor mirror. “Since when do legs and straight teeth equal dates with the starting quarterback?”

“Since you combined them with that swishy long hair and the whole smart-girl thing,” Heather insisted. “You’re pretty. It’s your cross to bear; use it wisely.”

“Well, you should know,” I teased her. “I heard that Brandon cried when you broke it off with him last week.”

“Brandon is diabetic, through no fault of his own, poor guy, and I felt guilty every time I baked anything in his immediate vicinity. It wouldn’t have lasted.”

I laughed. “Heartless.”

She shrugged. “Sugar-free is not my jam. We need to focus on your party attire,” she said, flicking a glance at me. “Two days isn’t a lot of time to plan the perfect first-date outfit.”

“Sorry.” I peered into the mirror again.
Chase Dempsey.
I still couldn’t believe it.

* * *

“Chase, stop!” I squealed. “I have to finish this paper!”

“C’mon babe.” He nuzzled my ear. “You can do it later, right?”

Not really,
my responsible mind argued, but Chase slid closer and I relented. “I guess so,” I said, giggling. I let him gently push the notebook out of my hands and pull me onto his lap. “I have to finish it today, though.”

“Sure,” Chase said. “Later. Much later.”

“You’re a bad influence,” I complained half-heartedly as he leaned in to kiss me.

“On ‘Most Organized’? No way,” he teased me. “The yearbook awards never lie.”

I laughed. “You
would
say that, Mr. ‘Most Attractive.’”

He grinned. “Like I said, they never lie.”

It was because of Chase that I was even on the radar for the yearbook committee. Dating him over the last few months had been an instant pass into the inner circle of Brancher’s teenage elite. Chase was the prince, the only son of the town’s most prominent and wealthy residents, which made me a reluctant princess by default. But he was sweet, handsome, and seemingly unthreatened by my intelligence, so I put up with life in the high school fishbowl.

“You’re nonsensical,” I told him, but I kissed him anyway.

“I love it when you use SAT words,” he murmured against my lips, and I laughed.

“Speaking of SAT words, how are your applications coming?” I asked.

“You want to talk about this
now
?” he grumbled.

Chase was also more ambitious than most people gave him credit for, something I hadn’t anticipated when I agreed to our first date. When I told him about my plans to get out of Brancher as soon as possible and go away to college, I was surprised when he told me he wanted the same thing.

“Me too, babe,” he’d said. “Football is gonna get me out of here.”

Chase’s arm was his ticket out of Brancher, while mine was the grades I worked so hard to maintain, but neither one of us was above the daunting reality of the application process. Colleges liked well-rounded students, whether you were an athlete or an English major.

That meant that I was spending my free time volunteering in the children’s section at the library, while Kyle and Chase were reluctantly padding their applications with community outreach hours. The local fire station welcomed them into their newbie volunteer ranks last week. Chase hadn’t mentioned it aside from expressing disappointment over their lack of a legitimate fire pole.

“Tell me more about the fire station,” I prodded him. “Did you like it?”

“Actually, yeah I did,” he admitted. His smile stretched over his whole face as he sat back against the couch. “We went out on a couple calls – no fires – but it was really cool.”

“That’s great!” I said. “See, it won’t be that bad.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not.”

I smiled. “New yearbook category: ‘Most Likely to Save a Kitten From a Tree’ goes to Chase Dempsey.”

“Give someone else a chance, babe,” Chase smirked. “There’s already gonna be tons of pictures of me in the yearbook.”

I swatted him in the arm. “Incorrigible.”

“Oooh, say it again.” Chase touched his lips to mine before I could say anything, and I gave up on my paper and gave in to his kiss.

* * *

The West Texas sun beat down mercilessly as Chase and I strolled toward the parking lot after our last class of senior year. Other students streamed by all around us, shouting and laughing on their way to celebrate the beginning of summer.

“School is over! We’re free.” Chase tightened his arm around me and tipped my face up so he could look into my eyes. “Out of Brancher, out of Texas.”

Free… I could hardly believe it. We’d talked about it all year, getting out of this town and starting our real lives. Graduation was tomorrow – it was finally happening – and then we’d be leaving for college. Chase would be playing football for Ohio State, and I’d be two hours away working on my creative writing degree at Oberlin College.

“Sort of free,” I reminded him. “We do have to actually attend college, you know.”

“Right, college,” Chase muttered darkly. “I know.”

“I’m so excited!” I continued. “It’s going to be amazing. And we’ll still get to see each other every weekend. I won’t miss a game, I promise.”

“Sure.” Chase pulled me closer for a kiss. “I gotta go.” He abruptly changed the subject. “I’m on duty this afternoon.”

“Again?” I couldn’t hide the apprehension in my voice. Chase was still spending a lot of time at the fire station, long after fulfilling his quota for college applications. He loved the rush; he said there was nothing else like it, not even football. He was a full-gear volunteer now, and I worried every time he went out on a call.

“I’ll be careful, babe,” he said, kissing me once more.

Of course he would.
Stop stressing.
I banished the nagging voice inside my head that spewed doubt every time something was going well. “Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning,” he said as he vaulted over the car door into his convertible Mustang. “We’re graduating!”

“Finally!” I laughed, and he blew me a kiss.

I smiled to myself as I watched him drive away. Chase and I were on the fast track out of Brancher and into our new lives. It was time to celebrate.

* * *

“He’s not here.” Janice Dempsey’s voice was clipped, angry.

“Oh, okay,” I said meekly. “I’ll try his cell phone.”

After the ceremony yesterday, the Dempseys threw Chase a large, extravagant graduation party. When it was over, Chase dropped me off at home and went back to his house to help clean up. It was a late night, and I was surprised he was already up and gone; I figured he’d still be sleeping.