The Season of You & Me Read Free Page B

shook off the Gavin thoughts, but a nagging question remained, the one Emma had brought up earlier in my room.
    “Do you think I’m running away?” I asked.
    She wrestled something out of the pocket of her housecoat—a waxed paper envelope with two almond cookies. She offered me one. I was going to pass but figured I’d be missing Jade Garden soon enough. We nibbled on the cookies before Nan said anything.
    “You know, I never liked that boy. He didn’t eat dessert.”
    I laughed. “That’s random.”
    “No, a man who doesn’t eat sweets doesn’t know how to be sweet, in my experience anyway. And I don’t mean the superficial fake sweet. I mean the real, deep sweet.”
    I wasn’t about to touch what real, deep sweet meant. I’m sure whatever Nan was thinking was far away from where my perverted mind was taking it. Mom stepped out onto theporch, opened the folding chair, and sat down, putting her legs up on the railing and letting out a long, hassled-sounding sigh.
    “Cassidy thinks she’s running away.”
    “I want to run away,” Mom said, tilting her head back and looking up at the sky.
    “So you think I am?” I asked.
    She turned her head to me. “Why would you say that?”
    “I don’t know. Emma thought maybe it was immature to skip out.”
    “And Emma’s the authority on maturity now,” Nan said.
    “I know, I know, I just don’t want it to look like I’m copping out.”
    Mom looked dreamily up to the sky again, her face softened. “Copping out of what? Cassidy, you’re spending the summer with your father, you’re not running away. You’re changing the scenery. There’s a difference. You’re opening yourself up to new experiences. That’s all, nothing wrong with that. This will be good for you.”
    I hoped she was right.

TWO
BRYAN
    EYES CLOSED, I COULD IMAGINE I WAS IN THE OCEAN.
    I was whole underwater.
    Floating.
    Still.
    In control.
    One with the water around me.
    Some moments, I could step out of my life. (Step. Ha.)
    There was always that point, though, when my brain reminded me that communications between it and my legs were wonky. That it could shout commands all day and my lower half wouldn’t listen, as if the nerves in my legs were plugging their ears and singing lalalalalalalalalala, we can’t hear you , but worse, because there was no undoing it.
    I’d never walk again.
    Even a year and a half after the accident those words were unreal.
    T-10. Incomplete. Numbers and letters that defined me now.
    They were unreal too.
    In the water though, I could imagine. Remember.
    If only some instrumental version of “Radioactive”hadn’t been playing under the water, I would have been golden.
    “Bryan.”
    A splash across my face brought me back to the rec center pool. Fluorescent lights instead of the sun. Chlorine instead of salt. I blinked the water from my eyes, shifted the therapy noodle out from under my knees, and paddled upright. My arms ached from my workout. I’d pushed myself hard. I may not have had use of my legs, but I had the upper body of fucking Iron Man. #wheelchairperk
    Jena, a rec center noob, stood at the side of the pool and waggled her fingers at me. We didn’t really know each other, but knew of each other. Wade had her stats down, like he did for every girl who was working at the rec center for the summer. Single. Sophomore. Soccer/swim girl. Liked to party. Her red lifeguard hoodie skimmed the top of her legs. Her long, tanned legs. Legs that could run and jump and kick without a second thought. Thighs that could wrap around me.
    She cleared her throat.
    “Sorry for the splashing. I wanted to get your attention.”She bent down and grabbed the therapy noodle out of the water.
    “No worries. I’ve had people get my attention in worse ways.”
    She pressed her lips together. Clearly my material was not charming her.
    “We’re, um—closing soon.”
    “Seven already? I’ll be right out.”
    She looked around. Her eyes landed on the pool lift. My