Summer I Found You (7 page)

I turn on music, but two songs in there is one I recognize, one I remember listening to with the guys. I slam my hand down on the power button and then grab the wheel again.

The drive is long, but not long enough to erase anything, push anything away. I pull back into the driveway as Jen and Will emerge from the house to go to school.

Great.

I climb out of their dad’s car and wave, like this is all no big deal. Jen gives me the weak smile that’s just part of Jen, and Will tries hard to do the whole tilt-your-chin-to-say-hello thing, only he really is nerd through and through, so it doesn’t come off the way he probably wants it to.

I jog past them up the stairs of my apartment. I’m not going anywhere else today. My night of no sleep is catching up to me.

Aunt Beth is on the phone as I make my way up the stairs in her house. I feel a bit like an idiot for coming in for cereal at three in the afternoon, but that’s what a sleepless night will do.

“I know it’s your anniversary, but Foster has this yearly benefit and I completely spaced out on the fact that it was the same day. Jen has an honor society thing. I’m really sorry, Christie.”

Mom? She’s talking to my mom?

“What’s going on?” I ask as I hit the top of the stairs.

“Oh,” Beth smiles. “Your son just came in.”

“What’s up?” I ask Mom as I take the phone.

“Beth was going to take the kids so Stan and I could go out for our anniversary, but it doesn’t look like it’ll work out. We can do it another time.”

“I’ll do it,” I say before really thinking it through.

“Oh, Aidan. I’d love for you to, but three of them? It’s a lot of work.” What she really means is that she can barely keep up with them and how can I with my new handicap.

“When is it?” I ask.

“This Friday.”

I grin. “Don’t worry. I have a helper.”

Kate wants us to hang out to keep her family off her back—she can come. Girls are good at babysitting stuff. I think.

As Mom and I get off the phone, I realize it might be kind of a big deal. To go with Kate. She’s going to come and meet my mom. She might take it the wrong way. Though, it actually should be no big deal because Kate and I are barely even friends, and she’ll get Shelton back if she wants him, I have no doubt. So, this should all be cool. Probably.

Another problem I’m now realizing is that Beth and Foster know her too. And she’s Jen’s best friend. It could really all blow up in my face.

Now the anxiety I already have over the stupid idea is going to stress me all week, making me wonder if it’s worth it.

“Y
OU SO OWE ME,”
I say as I climb into his uncle’s car. “I don’t do kids.”

He smirks. “You’re the one who said we needed to get together, and we happen to be able to help out my mom in the process.”

“Fair enough. Anyway, anything’s better than listening to my mom and my sister, who refuses to lie any other way than face down across the whole couch. She says it helps her nausea.” I make sure he can see my eye roll from across the car. “At least she’s not checking my…”
Blood sugar
. But this isn’t something I’ve told him. “I mean, checking up on me every few seconds.”

“Are you still pining away for Mr. too-neat-for-words?” He puts the car in drive. “Or is that something I shouldn’t ask.”

I have to laugh. Have to, because that’s exactly how I see Shelton. “No.”

“Truth.” He glances over at me with eyebrows raised.

“Okay, maybe.” I’ll give him that much, but no more. He doesn’t need to know how it rips me up to see them together in the hallway. If he weren’t with someone else, it would suck, but be livable. But he
is
with someone else, and it makes it so much worse.

Though, sharing a car with Aidan is definitely taking away some of the sting.

“Your sister sounds pretty miserable. Mom threw up a lot with the twins. It was my junior year of high school. Before her and Stan got married even. In my life before this one.”

His face immediately freezes.

His life before this one
—my guess is that he didn’t mean to say that out loud. I had a life before diabetes too. One where I didn’t have to give myself shots and count carbs in each and every single thing I eat.

Our night should be interesting.

“I guess I’m impatient with her because she’s such a drama queen.”

Aidan’s mouth opens, and then closes, leaving a small dimple on his cheek, telling me that he really wants to say something.

“Just say it.” I’m almost laughing because as awkward as our awkward moments are, the rest of being around Aidan is pretty cool. “Are you going to mention my ridiculous dress and Shelton? Or how weird the stuff that comes out of my mouth is, or…”

“Just that teenage girls, in general, are the biggest owners of drama there is.” He lowers his face so he can look up at me with his teasing expression, but now all I see is lashes. For a blondie, he has really nice lashes.

“Well, I didn’t used to be.” Until stupid Shelton, and his perfectly pressed clothes, and perfectly laid-out future. And his stupid way of breaking up with me that didn’t include him telling me that he liked someone else.

“Kate!” A woman’s arms crush me. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Uh…you too.” I stand back. Right. We’ve met at Jen’s a few times. And wow Aidan’s mom looks exactly like Jen’s mom. I remember this now that I’m standing in front of her. I thought they were twins when I first met her. The reality of him being my best friend’s cousin hits me again. This whole situation of Aidan and me hanging out could seriously backfire.

“You’re so grown-up and stunning!”

Stunning. That’s a word I never thought would be associated with me. “Uh…Thank you?”

“It’s almost bedtime, so the night should be pretty simple. You have no idea how grateful I am to you two.” Her eyes moisten up, and I want to elbow Aidan. I’m not the
only
person whose life is filled with drama.

She rattles off some instructions and I’m mostly looking between Aidan and his mom. It’s easy to see they’re tight. They stand close, talk easily with each other. And then it’s over, and I have no idea what was just discussed.

His step-dad and mom walk out, and Aidan already has the baby in his arm. “Mom said Trey needs to be rocked to sleep, which I can do, but I might need help getting him in his bed as softly as he’ll need to be laid down.”

I step into the small, unfamiliar house. “Okay.” I never know what to do with kids—especially little ones.

Two three-year-olds immediately accost my legs. I don’t babysit. Ever. Kids are messy and smelly, and their little pudgy hands are always sticky.

“Come watch Dora!” The boy pulls on my hand. As Aidan disappears into the baby’s room, I wish I’d paid better attention to the instructions we were given.

I sit on the couch, and immediately have a small child on each side of me. I’m going to be crushed, suffocated between two three-year-old squishy rolls of children with sticky hands.

“D-D-D-D-D-Dora!” They both sing with the show.

Okay, Kate. Breathe. They’re just kids. They can’t be that sticky and dirty. This is totally not a big deal.
Aidan seemed perfectly fine holding that tiny, squirmy baby with only one arm. Crazy.

How long am I supposed to give him to put the baby to sleep?

Great. It’s not like he can yell out when he’s ready for help.

“Tico!!” The little boy points to the TV and laughs. And then the little girl laughs, squirms, and contorts into these tiny giggles. This show is like a huge blast from my childhood.

Now that I’m here, on the couch, knowing I’m stuck, it’s not so bad. Their little bodies are warm and soft. I actually like this a little. Maybe.

By the time the show’s over,
I’m
ready for bed. I’m all cozy on the couch and warm.

“Time for bed.” The little girl stands up and takes my hand.

Wait. “Don’t kids hate to go to bed?”

“We share!” The little boy runs ahead and through a doorway, the little girl follows.

I stand in the door.

“Now you read us books.”

“Me?” I ask. Which is a stupid thing to ask because of course
me
.

I sit and we read. More Dora. She’s sort of numbing my brain after thirty minutes. No wonder Aidan’s mom was teary when we came to watch her kids.

“Uh-oh…” the little girl says.

“Uh-oh, what?” I ask.

“My gum.”

Gum? Are little kids allowed
gum
? I sit up off the bed and look around. Gum lying somewhere is not a good thing.

“Is there…” She points at me.

Oh. Great. On me. This is perfect. I look on the front of my shirt, and my shoulders, but I don’t see anything.

Now they’re both looking at me with their large blue eyes and smiling.

“Hair!” the boy says.

My stomach drops. Not in my hair. Please not in my hair. I run my hands down my head, and yep, about three inches up from the bottom is a knot of hair and gum. Great.

“Okay, you two.” Now what? “Um…you can stay up as late as you want, but if I hear anything, I come in and turn out the light, okay?”

They both grin.

Guess this is okay.

My heart’s going all panicky as I step out of their room and feel my hair again. This is not good. I flick on the bathroom light, and yeah, it’s even worse than I thought. I can’t tell where my hair begins and the gum ends, it’s all smashed in together.

And it’s not like I have the best hair or anything, it’s that…gum.

In my hair.

Oh. Aidan. I flick off the bathroom light, head still spinning over the stupid hair situation. I take a few slow breaths before slowly turning the doorknob on the baby’s room.

“Bout time you showed up,” Aidan whispers.

I stop. His hair is a little longer each time we get together, and I would have noticed sooner, but the whole babysitting thing sort of threw me. His blue eyes shine, even in the dark, and my stomach tightens at the way he’s looking at me.

“Kate?” he asks because I’ve probably been staring at him too long.

“My hair.” I pull the side forward to show him.

He tries to give me a sympathetic frown, but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “Can you slide him in his bed?”

Oh. Right. Baby.

Now that I’ve leaned over, the warmth of him hits me, and we’re close. Really close. Aidan’s breath hits my face, and I slide my arms over his toned stomach and down his muscular arm to get my arms around the baby. And for the first time, I’m touching a guy who I’d really, really like to see with his shirt off. Our eyes catch, and his breath blows across my face. Whoa. Butterflies are running circuits through my insides, over a guy who’s two years older, and only wants to hang with me so I can babysit with him.

What’s wrong with me? I’m like all hormonal or something. Even making out with Shelton didn’t make me all breathless like this. I scoop up the bundled baby, and lay him down in his bed, relieved I didn’t break him or wake him or something.

I back away from the crib and run into the stomach and chest I was just thinking about.

“Sorry.” My cheeks heat up and I stare at the floor, as if he’ll somehow know what I’m thinking just by looking at him.

“Excuse me.” He jumps back a step and holds the door for me to walk through.

Yeah. Guess it was awkward for both of us.

I go for the kitchen and sit at the table, trying to see the knotted mass in my hair.

“That is bad.” He takes the chair next to me.

I let out a sigh as I realize the more I touch it, the worse it gets.

“Okay.” His fingers touch the mass in my hair. “I have no idea what to do about this.”

My chest sinks. “Well, I was thinking of cutting my hair anyway.”

“Want me to cut it out for now?” he asks.

“Well, I definitely don’t want to sleep on gum.” Someone else’s germs are in there. I shudder.

Aidan walks away, so I let myself notice him again while he can’t watch me doing it. He’s always in a plain white T-shirt. Always. It pulls across his chest and shoulders, just a little. But also, when he twists or turns a bit, I can see his sides, his abs, and his waist. The way I feel scares me. It’s not the more-than-friends thing I felt with Shelton. It’s more like want-my-hands-on-your-bare-skin and I can’t believe I’m even
thinking
this. It’s not like Shelton and I even went that far in our year together. Nothing under clothes. Ever. Okay, maybe a little on my back and waist, but that’s it.

And here I am watching Aidan walk back toward me with a pair of scissors, and part of me wants to reach up under his shirt to feel his stomach.

I have problems.

“Can you do that with one arm?” I ask.

“Do you use two hands on scissors?” He widens his eyes a bit, and I can never tell if he’s joking back, or if I’ve almost gone too far again.

“Uh…no. But I do use one hand to cut, and one to hold.”

“Oh. Right.” He stands to my left side and again, his breath hits my neck sending shivers through me. I’m pathetic. He’s nineteen, waiting for disability, and I’m in high school. So not a good idea.

“I promise to be careful.” He tries to hold in a laugh as he surveys the damage again.

“You know what?” I need to do something with all this pent-up energy. It’s just hair, right? I can be bold. Forward. Cool. Unexpected. “Cut it all off, you know, all the way around.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head.

“It won’t be pretty, but I can get that fixed later. I’ve always wanted shorter hair. My sister cuts hair. You know, I could do an a-line cut that’s barely above my shoulders?”

“I don’t even know what that is.” He smirks.

“Just cut. Please. All the way around. Do it and get it over with.” I squeeze my eyes tight.

I expect him to protest further, but he doesn’t—just cuts and cuts. The sound of the scissors going through my hair is startling, crunching, smashing, something. It sounds like he’s cutting through hair much thicker than mine, that’s for sure.

“Done.” He stands back. “It might be a little uneven in a spot or two.” He tries to hold in his smile, which is my favorite thing because his cheeks get super dimpled.