Summer I Found You (8 page)

I seriously need to stop thinking about him like this.

“I figured you’d put up some kind of protest.” I slowly bring my hands to my head, and run them through my hair, top to bottom. The ends are a mangled mess, but my hair feels thicker, better.

“It’s hair.” He leans his face down to look up at me through his amazing lashes again. “Not an arm.”

“Right. So since your perceptions are warped by your missing arm, my hair gets cut without a second thought?” I raise a brow.

He chuckles. “You wanted it. Besides, once someone evens the edges, it’ll be perfect.”

Great. Only I breathe in and smell some kind of lickable aftershave, and spearmint toothpaste—so, it was kind of worth it to have him so close.

“Come on. We have a few hours before they get back. Let’s watch something.”

And now I’m wondering how close I can sit next to him on the couch, but when we reach the living room I jump in the chair while he digs through movies. This is safer. Much, much safer.

M
OM’S HANDS COME TO HER
mouth as she and Stan step through the front door. “Kate, your hair,” she gasps.

Kate’s smile is wide. “I know. Your son did a terrible job. You know with only one arm and everything. I should have known.”

“What?” Mom throws an accusing glare my way.

I start to defend myself when Kate speaks again. “There was an issue with gum, and it seemed like a good time to get it over with.” Kate shrugs.

Mom’s face falls. “Which one of the twins did it?”

Kate opens her mouth. “The…uh…girl?”

I chuckle because it’s obvious she forgot her name, or never heard it to begin with.

“Well, let me pay to fix it at the very least.” Mom starts rummaging in her purse.

“Mom. I got it,” I say. “Kate thought we were going to hangout somewhere or something, and instead I dragged her here.”

Mom stops. “Well thanks you two.”

“Thank you,” Stan adds.

“Oh!” Mom’s face brightens. “My friend Janet owns a Regis, two blocks down. I know she’s still there because her car was there when we came home.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?” I ask.

“My sister cuts hair. I’m good,” Kate says. “Besides, what would I tell your friend Janet? Some one-armed guy attacked me with scissors?”

Mom’s eyes widen slightly. I don’t think she knows how to react. Kate has the great stunned look on her face that she always does when she blurts something like this out.

“No being sneaky around Kate.” I toss my arm over her shoulder. “If you’ve got a missing limb, she’ll notice every time.”

Kate blushes and Mom chuckles as we step out the door.

I keep my arm around her for no real reason, just—she’s here. But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe it’s too much. Too personal. I jerk my arm away. No reason to keep her slim body close to me, even if it feels good.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I say. Her eyes find mine, but quickly look away, her cheeks turning pink. “It was interesting.” Interesting. It was that.

I lie in bed, once again unable to sleep.

I’m not good with girls. I wasn’t the coolest guy in high school, and didn’t have sex until I was in basic training. It’s still amazing we found a way because we didn’t get a whole lot of free time. When I was deployed, I was with an Air Force girl a few times. It was so casual. I’m lonely. You’re lonely. Let’s get together. Every time we camped in the Air Force camp, we’d get together. But a
girlfriend
? I don’t even know where to start. I know I don’t want the high school version of “going out.” The whole smothering each other thing. But I also know I really want to spend time with her. With Kate.

I’m not sure how to balance it, and now the whole thing is sort of giving me a headache. I like her. The smell of her, the way she speaks, says things, smirks. And most of the time I think she doesn’t like me, but tonight, the way she looked at me when I walked into the room with the scissors. There are a few things that make me feel like there might be something there.

But do I want there to be?

Kate swimming around in my head is keeping me awake just like the Army does. My forced departure from it. My friends still deployed in it. All of it. But thinking about Kate is better. For now. I think.

Foster takes me to lunch. We sit in a high-backed booth, and I could tell by the look on his face when he asked me here that it wasn’t really an option thing. I mean, I guess it is, but no matter what, he’ll find time to say what he wants to say. I might as well get a free burger. We order, and he starts to look a little nervous—shifting his weight back and forth.

“So, what’s up?”

“Mostly I want to see how you’re doing with everything.”

“Everything, huh? That’s kind of vague.” I knew this was coming, but it sticks inside me just the same, making it hard to breathe.

“The list is long,” he says. “I’m worried. I feel like I should be helping you in some way, but I don’t know what to do.”

The list is really long. My heart starts pounding in my ears and I can feel the words coming to the surface whether I want them to or not. “I hate my shrink. I’ve skipped physical therapy. I have nightmares, hate my calming drugs, and now I’m hanging out with Kate who I don’t know what to do with. Mom’s awesome and trying to help, but I don’t know how she could with her new, crazy family, or even what to ask her. I’m supposed to be getting ready to go to college, or something, but it’s hard to get motivated when I don’t know what I want to do. My infantry unit comes back in weeks, and they all want me there, but I don’t know if I can go. Pilot’s wife needs to be visited, and I don’t think I can do that either, or even if I want to. And then there’s the matter of the car I love that I can’t drive.” I’m breathless at the end.

Foster scratches his head and taps his fingers on the table a few times.

“And this is why you always say fine and nothing when we ask you how you are and what we can do for you, right?” Foster leans over the table.

A lump stretches in my throat, and I nod. Unable to do more. It’s so much. All of it is so much. Why the hell did we need to go somewhere public? I rest my elbow on the table and press my palm to my forehead. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I whisper, as I try to get my body under control.

“Whoa, whoa. Don’t be sorry.” Foster reaches to the side, rubbing my shoulder a few times. “Aidan. Why don’t you work on one thing, and then when you’re feeling comfortable with that one thing, then work on something else.”

“But it all needs to get done.” I lift my head off my hand. “All of it.”

“It does,” he agrees. “But it doesn’t all have to be done at the same time. You know what I mean?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Let’s tackle one thing at a time. First, Kate. You’re spending time with a cool girl. Don’t try and define it so much. If it’s working, keep it working, if not, then don’t. Just be straightforward with her. Honest. Because I really like Kate and neither of us wants to deal with the aftermath if Jen feels like you slighted her best friend.” He chuckles. “Well, and Kate’s almost another daughter around my house, so I might not be happy either.”

“You’re adding to the list of reasons it’s not a good idea.” I sit back in my seat.

Foster shakes his head. “That’s not entirely what I meant.”

“I’m. I’m going to try to push that one off a bit. Kate. Or maybe make things happen slow, or…I mean, I don’t even know if she likes

me, you know?”

His smile spreads a bit. “You like her.”

“Can we hit on something else?” Anything to not be talking about girls with Foster would be good.

“Sure.” Foster looks more relaxed already. Like we’re planning a trip to Hawaii, and not my mess of a future. “It’s pretty simple. Just sign up for school. You might not know what you want to do with your life until you get into school. One small step—maybe make an appointment with the guidance counselor at the community college. Your school is paid for. You need to take advantage of that. And I don’t mind driving your car one bit, so no hurry there.” He chuckles.

“Okay.” One appointment. That I can do. And I can put off getting rid of my car.

“The therapy stuff, I can’t help you with, Aidan. But Pilot’s wife—”

“I might save that one for last.” Way last. Or never. I might be okay with that too.

Foster just nods. “I’ve never…I mean, I can’t even pretend to be able to understand that, Aidan. You know it’s not your fault, and that—”

My whole gut seizes up. “No. It’s the fucking bomb’s fault, and whoever left it there.” And he just happened to be standing on the right, instead of me. I pull in a few deep breaths through my nose as unclench the fists I didn’t realize I’d tightened.

Foster shifts in his chair a few more times. Our waitress brings our burgers, but neither of us speaks. There’s so much. “And the guys. My guys. I know that’s the other thing. It’ll just…I don’t know.”

“Right now, worry about your guidance counselor appointment, okay? One thing.” One thing. And maybe I’ll find a way to waste some time with Kate along the way.

“I’m glad you’re staying with us, Aidan.”

“Yeah, well…” I don’t really have anywhere else to go. “It’s not bad.”

Foster laughs and for the first time actually relaxes in his seat. “I know it’s not ideal for a nineteen-year-old guy looking to re-start his life, but—”

“It could be a hell of a lot worse.”

“It could always be. Doesn’t change what’s happening now.”

No. It doesn’t. And as hard as it is to believe, it could all be worse. All of it. But it’s not. I feel guilty as hell over it, but at least I have a future. A life to live, to enjoy. It’s that I still have no idea what to do with it.

“Why do we do this on Saturdays again?” I wince as my therapist pushes my shoulder back as far as he can. He’s this huge black guy, who has muscles that would make most people stand back a step, but talks feelings every time I’m here. Cracks me up.

“Because you, Aidan, said that you wanted to get a job and go to school and you couldn’t have some
stupid therapy schedule mucking that up
.” His eyes widen as he messes with me.

“Right.” I glance up at the TV—History Channel, just like he knows I like. I swear sometimes he’s just sucking up. Fortunately, the small gym he calls his physical therapy office is pretty dead on Saturdays.

Bradley releases my shoulder, and I see spots the thing hurts so bad.

“Do you get some sort of thrill out of hurting people like this?” I ask.

He ignores my comment, like always. “Seeing anyone?”

“Um…I don’t know.” I scrunch my face up as he pushes forward.

“You don’t know?” He chuckles. “Relax, Aidan. I’m just trying to keep you stretched out.”

“We’ve gone out a few times.”
Seeing
someone feels serious. Like tied in or something. And it’s not that I guess I mind, but it feels forward, final, uncomfortable…“Not really
out
, out.” I helped her make her boyfriend jealous, ditch school, and she helped me babysit. Suddenly it all seems a bit juvenile.

“Kissed her yet?” He wags his brows.

“Dude are you my shrink or are you here to make sure my shoulder doesn’t completely seize up?” I snap. I don’t want to talk about Kate. I don’t want to be in physical therapy. My first thing was to talk to a guidance counselor, but the exhaustion of dealing with all the other crap is fucking, not mucking, it all up.

“Whoa, Aidan. Just making small talk.” Bradley sits back and forces us to make eye contact. Like we’re all good pals because he’s helping me learn how to live with one arm.

“Right.” I can’t small talk with anyone. Nothing in my life is small. It’s all huge things—huge decisions, huge consequences.

“Touchy subject then.” He folds his arms signaling the end of my torture.

“No,” I snap again.

“Okay.” But his brows go up, which makes me not believe him, and I suddenly want to call Kate because I need to just hang out. Get away from this list I’m supposed to be doing, because doing things one at a time isn’t going so well for me.

I
T’S THE FIRST REAL
smile I’ve seen on my sister since arriving.

“You’re really going to let me cut your hair?” My sister lives to cut hair. Do makeup. Have pretty nails…

“Well you can’t do any worse than Aidan did.” I shrug. “It’s a mess, and I’d rather not look like a freak, even though it’s Saturday. Also, it does look bad enough that people will believe me when I say it was cut by a one-armed man.” I’m all pleased with myself for making a joke, but it’s Aidan, and he’s not here, so maybe I shouldn’t have.

“Who’s Aidan?” Deena’s brows come together, and she takes another small bite of dry granola. Gross.

“Jen’s cousin.” I start to say he picked me up when I skipped school the other day, but Mom and Dad are in the kitchen. “He lost his arm in Afghanistan.”

“Oh…” Her voice falls into that sickeningly sweet, sad, pity voice that I’m sure he hates as much as I do. “He’s so
young
.”

“Nineteen, and pretty awesome to hang out with.” I pull a chair to sit in front of my sister, scissors in hand.

Now she has that really annoying look on her face that says she knows something I don’t. “You
like
him. Are you two going out or something?”

I spin away from her and sit on the chair as I feel my cheeks heat up. “No. I helped him babysit his little brothers and sister, that’s all.”

Her fingers start running through my hair—surveying the damage. “And how was that?”

All I can see is Aidan’s snug T-shirt as he walked toward me with his oh-so-perfect smile. “Good.” I clear my throat, trying to recover.

Deena leans slightly. “Uh…huh…” She’s wearing that really annoying smile again. The one that means
I see what’s going on, and you’ll never convince me different
.

Yeah, didn’t fool her any. And this means that maybe I do
like
him, like him. How crazy is that?

Deena’s scissors start lightly snipping through my hair, so I concentrate on holding still. No need for me to make it even shorter than it already is.

“Look. Even if I did like him, it doesn’t matter. Aidan’s probably going through a lot. He’s like, an adult.”