“You better believe it.” His lips captured mine briefly before pulling away. “Stop tempting me, woman. We’re going to be late.”
“Late for what?” I whined, trailing after him as he trudged through the snow.
He didn’t bother to turn around. “It’s a secret.”
I would have complained more, but he was too damn cute. He’d been planning this surprise for a while and wouldn’t let me in on it no matter how I tried to persuade him. The Princess Leia costume had even come out of retirement to help convince him, but he remained close-lipped. At least we had fun while I tried.
“You know, we’d probably have more fun trekking through the forest if we had a little daylight,” I pointed out.
I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer. I’d been using ploys like that for a week to get it out of him.
We trudged silently through the woods for at least five minutes. I was beginning to think maybe he was lost. He was more of an indoor kind of guy.
“Almost there,” he finally said, reaching for my hand.
Linking my gloved fingers through his, I stepped out through the thin line of trees, gasping in surprise. We were on a slight elevation, overlooking a large clearing that gave the illusion we were standing atop the world. Far off in the distance I could see the faint lights of Woodfalls. Combined with the bright shining stars in the night sky, the view was absolutely picturesque. I watched in awe as a light that looked like a fast-moving plane streaked across the sky. “Whoa, was that a UFO?” I was kidding, of course, but wondered if he had seen it too. Before he could answer, another light streaked across the black sky, followed by another.
“Nope. They’re meteors,” he said, sliding his arms around my waist to pull me in close. “It’s the Quadrantid meteor shower.”
I tilted my head up to look at him. “Seriously? That’s amazing.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
I shook my head as he rested his head on my shoulder. The quick, streaking lights were like fireworks without all the noise.
After a few minutes he released me and unfolded the tarp, spreading it out over the blanket of snow at our feet. He placed the heavy-duty sleeping bag on top and smoothed out the wrinkles. “I saw a meteor shower one other time before we moved here, but the city lights dulled the experience,” he said, plunking us down on the cushy sleeping bag.
He tugged off his shoes and placed them on the empty space on the tarp. I watched in amusement as he also pulled off my shoes and lined them up next to his before climbing into the sleeping bag.
“Are you planning on sleeping here?” We weren’t exactly in some campground surrounded by other people. There were wild animals in these woods and we were by ourselves.
“Oh, we won’t be sleeping.” He tugged on my hand so I was lying on top of him.
“You expect to get lucky when it’s colder than a witch’s tit out here?”
Our lips were inches apart. His hands moved to my head, removing my stocking hat. “You’ll be warm in here,” he said, pressing his cool lips to mine.
I opened under his persistence, instantly responding to the way his tongue moved possessively against mine. “So you drag me to the middle of nowhere to have your way with me?” I teased breathlessly when we separated. Our warm breath was visible in the cool air. I snuggled closer in his arms, looking up at the occasional flashes of lights that would streak across the sky.
He chuckled, planting a kiss atop my head. “I didn’t know it would take so little effort. Who knew you were so easy?”
I nudged him with my elbow. “Do you want me to start playing hard to get?”
His arm tightened around me. “Hell no. This is much better than having fantasies about you.”
“Fantasies? Care to share?”
“Not on your life,” he laughed, sitting up. He pulled a thermos from the bag and handed it to me. “Want some hot chocolate?”
“You’re cute. You know that?”
“Cute? I thought we had elevated me to stud status.” He tucked the sleeping bag snugly across our laps and removed the cup from the thermos in my hands.
The delicious scent of chocolate-infused steam rose from the container when he unscrewed the lid. I winked at him as he filled the cup. “You’re definitely my stud,” I answered, taking a sip of the rich beverage.
“Good,” he growled, giving me another kiss. “Mmm, chocolate kiss.”
We lay back in the sleeping bag, content in silence as we continued to watch the natural night show. “This is pretty amazing,” I finally said. He tightened his hold around me, pulling me tightly in place. It felt secure. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
“I couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else,” he murmured against my ear, making me sigh with pleasure.
“It’s like we’re the only ones in the world.” My throat felt tight as tears prickled at the backs of my eyes. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt truly happy. It seemed like Trent and I had taken a long road to get where we were. It was a shame it took a tragic event to bring us together, but David’s senseless death had given me a new outlook on life and Trent was a part of that. Cameo finally understood all the demons I had been fighting. We even worked together, along with David’s parents, in setting up a memorial scholarship in his name.
The official unveiling would commence in a ceremony the school had planned for when we returned for the spring semester. I had been asked to give a speech. I already knew what I would say and hoped my words would give his parents and friends some peace. I had to put aside my feelings about how MSC had treated Trent. It felt like a double-edged sword to work with them since they had stuck to their decision regarding his expulsion, despite Professor N and several other professors speaking on his behalf. It was Trent who encouraged me to put my misgivings aside, convincing me it was for the best. He was currently continuing the work on his project at Professor N’s house. Trent seemed perfectly content with the way things had turned out, which was all I could ask for.
“You’re the only person that matters in my world,” he whispered.
I sighed happily as his lips tenderly captured mine. Without breaking contact, I pulled the sleeping bag over our heads. We made love beneath the sky full of stars and streaking meteors, never taking our eyes from each other.
READ ON FOR A SPECIAL PREVIEW OF TIFFANY KING’S NEXT BOOK
A Shattered Moment
THE FIRST IN THE NEW FRACTURED LIVES SERIES
COMING SOON FROM BERKLEY!
Graduation night 2012
The breeze blowing through the open windows of the SUV was hot and sticky thanks to the blanket of humidity that was normal for this time of year. Not that my friends and I cared. Even with sweat running down our backs and our hair plastered to the napes of our necks. We were too amped-up to worry about something as pesky as the weather. Today we were free. This was the moment we had discussed at length. The moment we had planned for and dreamed about. We didn’t need drugs or alcohol to experience our current state of euphoria. We were high on life and the anticipation of what the future held.
Laughter filled the interior of the Suburban, drowning out the roar from the oversized off-road tires as we cruised down the highway. It was the sound of exhilaration and triumph fifteen years in the making. Fifteen years of friendship that had stood the test of time. Through the muck of adolescent squabbles, preteen dramas, and the turbulent years of high school, we had made it to the other side of graduation. Our friendship was unbreakable. We made a pact many years ago over mud pies and juice boxes. We swore we would always be friends. No matter what the obstacles, we managed to stay inseparable. Our parents, who had also become close over the years, had coined us the “Brat Pack.” They would laugh every time they said it, like it was some inside joke only they were privy to. I guess you had to be older than forty to get it.
I swept my eyes around the vehicle, listening to the loud music blaring from the radio as the wind played with my
hair. With the exception of my family, anyone who had ever meant anything to me was here.
Zach was always our driver. His parents gave him the keys to the Suburban when he turned sixteen, knowing it was the perfect vehicle for our group. We were used to doing everything together, so it only made sense that the first of us to obtain a coveted driver’s license would receive a vehicle big enough to carry everyone. The Suburban was a year older than we were and had its fair share of dings and rust spots, but it was trusty and reliable.
If he minded becoming our designated chauffeur, he never complained. That was Zach in a nutshell. He was the guy everyone liked, and for good reason. He was the first to lend a hand or volunteer his services, or just listen if you needed someone to talk to. He had been the captain of the football team and class president junior and senior year. Zach was a born leader, which is why he was bound for FSU in the fall on full scholarship. He had also always been my stand-in boyfriend. It was an on-again/off-again routine we had fallen into. I knew I could always count on him. My plan was to avoid a serious relationship before college. Zach had provided the perfect buffer. All along, we had planned to spend this final summer together before we headed off to separate schools. If Zach promised, I knew I could bank on it, or so I thought.
I pulled my thoughts away from their current path. There was no reason to muck up the evening we’d been planning forever. Instead, I moved my eyes to Dan and Kathleen sitting in the third row with their heads pressed together. They had been a thing since we were kids. Not a thing like Zach and me, but a real couple. Their love had been forged over shared cookies and building sandcastles. It had always been Dan and Kat/Kat and Dan. In the beginning, their parents tried to rein in their kids’ feelings for each other, but that was like telling the sun not to shine. They were the image of soul mates. The pending separation of our group would be hardest on them. Kat’s parents insisted on the idea of her and Dan attending separate colleges, at least for the first couple of years. They wanted her to be sure that Dan would be more than a childhood romance. Kat confided to us that she only planned on giving it a year, if that long. This is why I’d always kept things casual. As close as we all were as friends, the idea of planning your college career around a guy seemed extreme to me.
“Class of 2012, bitches!” Jessica yelled from the second row where she sat with my best friend, Tracey. Filled with exuberance, and more adventurous than the rest of our Brat Pack, they were usually also the loudest. They were ready to take on the world and would stretch their wings wider than any of the rest of us in the group. I actually felt a little jealous, wishing I had an ounce of their fearlessness. Tracey’s eyes met mine briefly before darting away. I grimaced without saying a word. Nothing would mar today. That is the vow I made to myself. Tomorrow would be soon enough to analyze what I had discovered.
I shifted back around in my seat as Zach drove over the causeway. We all whooped with our hands in the air as we reached the top. In the remaining light of dusk, we could see the dark, never-ending expanse of water in the distance. We were close to our first destination of the evening.
Zach slowed to a crawl, maneuvering the Suburban around an old Lincoln Town Car going twenty-five miles per hour, even though the speed limit was almost double that. I had respect for my elders, but anyone who says teenagers are the worst drivers has obviously never lived in Florida.
Of course, Zach didn’t mind. He was patient and cautious, even after jerking the wheel to avoid a moped that darted in front of us. The bikini-clad girl perched on the back didn’t even bother looking at us as she flipped us off.
“Stupid asses, huh?” Zach laughed, shooting me a smile I thought I’d returned until I saw his face fall slightly before he looked back to the road. Sighing, I turned my head to look out my window. Of all the days for me to discover what had probably been going on under my nose for some time, why did it have to be today?
Seeing Zach’s smile drop beside me, I realized I wasn’t fooling anyone. I could put on a facade that everything was okay, but deep down, three of us in this vehicle knew differently.
Minutes later we arrived at the public parking lot at New Smyrna Beach. We piled out of the Suburban, breathing in the salty sea air. Kat linked her arms with mine and Tracey’s while Jessica linked my other arm. Our human chain was complete when the guys bookended us on either side and we raced down the grassy slope to the long expanse of sand. We kicked our shoes off the instant our feet touched the sand, which had already started to cool now that the sun had gone down.
Laughter rang through the air as we raced toward the dark water without slowing. Our graduation robes flared out behind us like capes. With the wind whipping them around, we almost felt like we could fly as we splashed into the incoming waves. Nothing could hold us back. We were invincible.
We never made it to our second destination that night. Sadly, we weren’t invincible.
I would later be asked countless times what happened, forced to recall what I remembered about the accident that changed everything. Clarity of the events was never an issue. I breathed it—had nightmares about it. It would haunt me for the rest of my life.
Zach had just merged onto the interstate, heading toward Orlando. Everything happened so quickly and unexpectedly. My mind was still focused on what had transpired as we left the beach. Not on the careless driver on the highway who acted like we were never there.
It was Jessica screaming after the semitruck slammed into the side of the Suburban that will be forever burned into my mind like a bad song that refuses to go away. The oversized advertisement for fresh strawberries that ran the length of the trailer was the last thing that appeared upright after Zach jerked the wheel to avoid another collision. I would later learn that our momentum combined with the impact from the trailer were the culprits for what happened next.
With the horrific grinding sound of metal against metal and the sickening smell of burning rubber, the wheels on the right side of the Suburban left the road, sending us airborne. I had heard once that when you’re in an accident everything passes in a blur of slow motion. That is total bullshit. It’s instant chaos. Fast and scary are more accurate—and loud. So loud you feel like your ears will burst. So hectic you can’t tell where sounds are coming from. It’s a jumbled mess of groaning metal beat out of its original shape, shattering glass, blaring horns, and, worst of all, screams of pain from your friends. And yet, through it all, I remember every detail with painstaking lucidity.
“How could you possibly know how many times the vehicle rolled?” That is always the first question asked when I recount the series of events for someone. It was a question that haunted me as well. It was as if I were being cosmically punished for some wrong I had committed. If I knew what it was, I would take it all back. I would trade places with any of my friends over being forever tormented by vivid memories that I could never escape. Each roll of the vehicle was significant for what it did to my friends. The first roll sent Tracey’s head against her window with a thud. The second roll abruptly silenced Dan, who had been swearing from the moment Jessica started screaming. Kat shrieked Dan’s name in anguish, overpowering Jessica’s screams during the third bone-crunching roll of the vehicle. On the fourth roll, Jessica’s screams stopped like someone had flipped a switch. I panicked, believing at any moment my last breath would be snuffed out like the flame of a candle.
We stopped on the fifth roll, finally coming to a rest mid-turn, leaving us upside down. The bench seat Zach and I shared tore away from the metal bolts that attached it to the floorboard and tumbled forward, pinning me to the dashboard. My head exploded with pain as it bounced off the windshield. I vaguely remember wondering why an airbag hadn’t opened. It turned out the old Suburban Zach had been given by his parents was a year away from that upgrade. A steady hum filled my ears. It was as if I had been swaddled in a cocoon of cotton. I felt absolutely nothing.
Looking for more?
Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a c
omplete list of their books.
Discover your next great read!
Tiffany King, Contradictions
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends