Chapter 18 #2
Seeing the mental image of my favorite food piled high on top of a plate reminds me of the constant pit of hunger in my stomach. Food. It’s remarkable the many things I’ve taken for granted.
“How about you? What would Colton Downing wish for?”
“Ranch? And fries?” He wrinkles his face in disgust.
My mouth falls open. “Colton Downing, you better be joking right now. Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten fries with ranch.”
“Can’t say I have.”
I gasp. “You poor, poor man.”
He squints, looking out over the moonlit ocean. “Ranch, though. Really? Like on salad, I get, but with fries…”
I turn and briefly touch his shoulder, assuring his attention is fully on the words of wisdom I’m about to impart to him. “There is no greater condiment for a steak fry. It is a heavenly gift to us mortals, and we must be grateful.”
He chuckles. “Okay, well in that case, I guess I’ll have to try it when we get home.”
“I guess so,” I say triumphantly.
Another gust of wind swoops in, doing a number on my hair. I collect the wild flyaways that break free from my French braid and tuck them behind my ear. “Okay, enough stalling, Colton Downing. What are you wishing for?”
Colton opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, looking hesitant. “I think I’d have to go with—and I swear if you laugh, Missy …” he says, warning me with his eyes.
“What is it?” I bounce, brimming with curiosity.
He stares me down, looking like he regrets opening his mouth in the first place, but he must have pity on my excited nerves because he rolls his eyes and relents. “I’d probably wish for hair gel and a comb or something,” he mumbles.
I toss my head back and laugh.
“Shh.” Colton puts a hand over my mouth. But he can’t cover the pure glee in my eyes. “You’re the worst,” he says with a small smile before he removes his hand.
I giggle. “Colton. Your natural hair looks fine.”
“This.” He points to his crazy hair that blows in the wind. “This is not fine.”
“No.” I reach up and pull his hand away from his head, getting a good view of his silhouetted hair. “No, really. It’s cute.”
He barks out a laugh. “Cute?”
“Yeah. Like, cute, like a patch of grass. Like some little dairy cow’s going to see it and wanna munch on it all day,” I say.
He covers his eyes. “Oh, that’s so much worse.”
The look of horror on his face makes me laugh, my full body erupting into little shakes. “But seriously, that, along with the whole beard thing going on? I mean, it’s something.”
“Something? Well, you can just bury me right here,” he says.
Truth was that if he knew what his carefree look was doing to my heart, I’d willingly dig a six-by-three-foot pit and jump in.
Our laughter tapers off, and I become immediately aware of how my hand is resting on his knee.
How long has it been there? Since I’d pulled his hand away from his hair?
Oh no, has he noticed? My cheeks burn as I decide my next move.
Do I take it off, or will that draw more attention?
Taking it off would be way more awkward.
Or maybe he’s very aware that my hand is on his knee right now and is thinking about how awkward it is but doesn’t want to tell me just in case he thinks I really meant to put it there.
Which I most definitely did not. I mean I did.
But … I slam the brakes on this train of thought and instead yell, “Look, there’s a seagull. ”
I instantly remove the offending hand and point to a spot in the air where there is, in fact, no seagull.
I hear the slightest chuckle and feel the rumble from Colton’s body. I’m just about ready to crawl to the depths of the ocean and count to a million.
“So, did you ever find a new lucky object?” he mercifully asks, saving me from drowning in my own cringe.
Not wasting the out he’s given me, I think back, remembering the two halves of my gorgeous lucky seashell with its sunrise pattern.
Colton had been kind enough to bring it to me after the medical team had bandaged up and booted my foot.
“Not yet, but I’ll find one,” I say, daring to make eye contact.
He sends me a soft smile, and I return it before training my gaze on the ocean. “Have you always had a lucky object?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. My first lucky object was this little glow-in-the-dark star my mama gave me before I left Tennessee.” I eye him playfully, knowing he knows full well about my lucky star.
He’d lost it our sophomore year of high school after he’d teasingly said he’d try its luck out during his chemistry test. Which he’d aced.
That star had shed its luck on Colton only for him to misplace it.
Colton shifts uncomfortably, and I smile wider to let him know it’s just water under the bridge now, but he looks like he’s in pain. “Your lucky star was something your mom gave to you? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t think you and your mom were all that close.”
I blow out a deep breath. “We used to be.”
“Do you miss her?” He turns to look at me.
“I miss what we once were,” I say, wrapping my hands around my knees again.
“I’m sorry.” Colton furrows his brows. “Is that why you decided to leave Tennessee? Because you weren’t connecting with your mom like you used to? Or was your decision solely because you wanted to learn about the pageant world from your aunt and cousins?”
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
I think of Mama and the way I’d screamed her name from the back of Aunt Candice’s car, begging her to take me back. But she didn’t.
“I …” I press my mouth into a flat line, wondering what to tell Colton, but then I meet his earnest gaze and my words tumble out. “I didn’t leave her. At least, not by choice.”
He pulls back, looking confused. “What do you mean?”
I suck my lips between my teeth, willing my burning eyes not to cry. “She didn’t want me.” My chin begins to quiver.
“But I thought you said …”
“I know …” A hot tear drops from my eye as I remember my words to Jordan and Colton in the lunchroom on one of my first days at school.
“I moved to Colorado to better immerse myself in pageant culture.” I was so proud of that practiced lie.
It sounded so official. So put together.
So completely opposite from my real life.
“I lied.” I swipe at the tear running down my cheek. “My mama didn’t want me, so she sent me to Colorado to live with my aunt.”
“Oh, Missy.” Without hesitation, Colton wraps his arm around me, enfolding me in his warmth.
The simple gesture breaks the dam. My tears fall fast, dripping across my cheeks, over my thin bandage, and down my chin. Colton doesn’t say anything; instead, his steady hand moves to my back, rubbing soothing circles. I lean against his chest, letting it all out.
By the time I feel like I’ve cried out my body’s entire water supply, I stiffen, embarrassed that, in this moment, I’ve let him carry my emotional baggage.
I raise my head off of Colton, but even when I sit upright, his arm remains around me.
Once I can finally see clearly, I look at him, finding his eyes soft and sad.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Seeming to remember who he is talking to, he rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Why would you tell me? I’ve never really given you a reason to be open with me, have I?”
I find the edge of Colton’s blanket and pull it farther up my shoulder to ward off the chill. “I only ever told Paige and Ji. When my aunt brought me to Colorado, I wanted to start over fresh. I didn’t want to dwell on what had been. I wanted to move forward.”
Colton wipes a rogue tear from my cheek with his thumb. Loving his touch more than I care to admit, I lean back into him.
He tightens his grip around my shoulders, making me feel safe. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Mm-hmm,” I say.
“What was the significance of the star your mom gave you?”
Once more, I pull away, looking up at him with knit brows, curious why out of all things he’d bring up that star again. I swallow. “I hate the dark. I mean, I didn’t always. But there was this one night in particular when I was a girl …”
Colton nods, giving me space to continue.
I suck in a shaky breath. “Mama’s boyfriend came to our place.
I remember Mama so clearly, her body trembling and her eyes filled with fear as she told me to go hide in my bedroom before he could see me.
I ended up locked in my room that night, in utter darkness, forced to listen to my mama’s screams as her boyfriend hit her over and over again. ”
My body starts to shake, and again, Colton brings me closer to him, letting me borrow the strength I don’t feel.
I wipe a tear against the sleeve of my jacket.
“After that, I couldn’t stand to be in the dark, alone.
So Mama got me a package of glow-in-the-dark stars from our local dollar store.
She put them all over my room in little swirl patterns and smiley faces.
I think people in space could spot my room once Mama was finished with it. ”
I let out a watery chuckle, remembering Mama’s dance after she showed me her handiwork when I’d gotten home from school that day.
“When she was all done, she pulled one last star out of her pocket and told me that when I was afraid, all I had to do was press the little star between my fingers and put any negative or fearful thought inside of it until all I was left with was everything positive. I guess that just became a habit.” I shrug.
“All my lucky objects really aren’t lucky, I guess.
They’re just a tool for coping with my fears and inadequacies …
But to answer your question …” I huff out a small laugh.
Colton asked a simple question, and I spilled my life story.
“That’s why that star was significant to me. ”
Colton shakes his head. “Missy, I’m such an idiot.”