One Trip Around the Sun Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by Amy Roe

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Cover Art by Kellie Dennis, Book Cover by Design, www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Meet Brady Fisher

  Happy Seventeenth Birthday

  The Pit

  Let's Talk About Sex

  The List

  Back to School

  It's Complicated

  Hearts and Shit

  Safe Much?

  Play It Again

  Willpower

  Captain Save-a-Ho

  About-Face

  Brady, Please

  Nice Skirt

  Bullshit

  Acknowledgments

  Love Nouveau by B.L. Berry

  “Why did you do that?” I flip over my iPad, pointing the camera in the direction of the pink polka-dot corkboard where my calendar hangs. I’ve only just noticed that a pink heart is drawn over June 18. “I don’t need a reminder for my own birthday.”

  “Who says I did it? Maybe someone slipped into your bedroom while you were sleeping.”

  Chelsea Benson and I met in third grade when we were paired up in PE to run a three-legged race together on Field Day. We lost the race, but we’ve been inseparable ever since. When we aren’t in the same room, we’re talking on the phone, instant-messaging, or texting.

  “Ha, I’m not that lucky.” I flip over to my stomach and prop my iPad on a pillow, so we can still see one another.

  I’ve never snuck anyone into my bedroom, and I probably wouldn’t have the nerve to do it even if someone wanted to be snuck in. Incidentally, at the moment, no one does.

  On June 18, I’ll turn seventeen. Looking at the calendar, all I can do is wonder where the hell the time has gone. “Where did the past year go? I thought sixteen was the year to make memories, Chels, but it was a total disappointment.”

  Out of three hundred sixty-five days, fifty-two weeks, twelve months, or one trip around the sun, I figure I would have something worth remembering.

  It’s late evening, and the view on the other end of the iPad is becoming dim, so when I see a flash of light on Chelsea’s face, I know right away what she’s doing.

  “Stop it!” I hold my hand up to block the webcam.

  “What? I didn’t do anything,” she lies.

  “You’re taking screenshots of me. Just knock it off!” I flip the camera again, so she’s forced to look at the darkness that is the back of my pillow.

  “Dude, you look like a pinup model right now.” She sits up in her bed and yells, “Connor!”

  “You’re on crack, Chelsea,” I mumble before burying my face in my comforter.

  I hardly look like any sort of model. I guess it helps that she can’t see that I’m wearing my brother’s worn-out Iron Maiden T-shirt and size-nine denim shorts. Chelsea, on the other hand, is a size five with legs that go on for miles. She’s the one who looks like a model. Her extra-small T-shirts wouldn’t even fit over my boobs. If that isn’t enough, she has natural golden-blonde hair and big blue eyes. This is a stark contrast to my long amber hair and matching eyes that are too big for my face. According to her—if I were to believe her—I’m so beautiful that guys are afraid to approach me, and I’m curvy, not chubby. I call bullshit.

  “Reese, baby.” Connor’s face appears on my iPad, and I flip the camera again, so he can see me.

  He and Chelsea have been going out for six months, and since summer break started, he’s always with her. It’s been putting a little cramp in our BFF time.

  “Hey, Connor. What’s up?” I cross my arms and lay my head down on them as I talk to him.

  “Doesn’t she look like a pinup model right now?” Chelsea encourages his pervy behavior in the background.

  “Mmhmm…babe, you’re so fucking hot!” He narrows his eyes, licks his lips, and checks me out until I flip my blanket over myself.

  “Stop, you freak!” Embarrassed, I hide my face in the blanket.

  “You’ve got the goods, girl!” He always says that to me.

  Whatever.

  “Okay, go away now!” I peek back at my iPad to make sure he’s gone. When I see Chelsea’s face, I relax and kick off the blanket. “Seriously though, what did we do this past year?” I whine.

  Neither of us says a thing for a good minute or more. I look around the room and at the ceiling as I scan my memories.

  “Nothing exciting I guess. We talked about doing lots of things,” Chelsea replies.

  “That’s all we did though—talk.” I’m so disappointed.

  Chelsea walks across her bedroom and into the bathroom. “Well, the good thing about that is, tomorrow, you get to start another year. So, what do you say we make seventeen the year?”

  Immediately, I get butterflies in my stomach from just thinking about some of the memories that I’d like to make. “Okay, yeah. Let’s make seventeen the year!” I’m now staring at the ceiling in, I assume, her bathroom. “Really, Chelsea?” I should probably just be happy that she had enough decency to lay the iPad down before she peed.

  “Yeah, really. Let’s go get coffee.”

  I’m always up for a coffee run. I yank my hair tie, freeing my insanely curly hair from the messy bun that it’s been trapped in all day, and I run a brush through it. I slip my shorts off and throw on a pair of jeans but leave on Kyle’s Iron Maiden T-shirt. Flying down the stairs, I jump from the third step to the landing with a loud thud.

  “Nice shirt, Reese,” Kyle says.

  I cross the family room and enter the kitchen. I grab my car keys off the bar and stand next to the back door while slipping my feet into my Toms.

  “It was in my pile.” I smile, knowing that he really doesn’t care.

  “Make sure it finds its way back into my bedroom and not to Chelsea’s shrine, will you?” He takes another bite of cereal.

  I laugh as I walk down the sidewalk in front of our house and hop into my car. Chelsea has had a crush on Kyle since the day we met. When we lost that race on Field Day, he was the first person at my side, telling me how good we did, and that was all it took. Over the past nine years, she has lifted things out of his room whenever she comes over. T-shirts, guitar picks, photos, a pillowcase, and other miscellaneous things are tacked to a wall in her bedroom, and we’ve dubbed it The Shrine. It’s just strange, but so is Chelsea.

  It’s a perfect evening. The telltale signs of a small-town summer in Clinton, Wisconsin, are all present as I drive across town. Kids are passing a football back and forth on a side street, the smell of a bonfire is filling the air, and moms are pushing strollers as they enjoy a walk with their friends. Between being born and raised in this town and working at the daycare, I know mostly everyone who lives here, and I spend the drive waving at people as I pass by.

  I spot Chelsea’s car and park in the spot next to it.

  Walking into the coffee shop, I’m smacked in the face with the delicious smell of brewed coffee. I am a coffee addict. I can drink it all day. I would like to bathe in it and then slather coffee-scented lotion all over myself. I actually think about Googling that when I get home. Surely, someone sells coffee-
scented lotion.

  I spot Chelsea waiting for me at a table by the window. Two coffees are sitting in front of her, and she’s already flirting with a guy at the next table. Amused, I shake my head.

  She engulfs me in a hug when I reach her. “Happy birthday!”

  “My birthday is tomorrow, Chels.”

  “It’s your birthday weekend. You get to celebrate the entire weekend.” She lets go of me and steals a glance at the guy she was talking to.

  “Oh, okay!” I roll my eyes and slip into my seat. “Know him?” I pull the lid off my coffee before taking a sip, and then I check a message that I got while I was driving.

  “Yeah, he goes to The Pit.” She glances between the two of us before finally giving me her undivided attention. “So, what are you doing tonight?” Chelsea asks with a grin that promises she’s expecting me to do something with her.

  Knowing her, it’s probably something I don’t want to do. My phone vibrates, drawing my attention away from Chelsea.

  I look down at my phone and then back up to her. “Apparently, I’m going to my gramma’s.” I hold up my phone for her to see the text that my mom just sent me.

  “After your gramma’s, go to The Pit with me,” she pleads.

  “No!” I totally expected her to suggest that.

  The Pit is just outside of town, a few miles back in the woods. Every weekend, high school kids invade the big clearing down by the river. They sit around a huge fire pit and listen to music while they drink, smoke, and make out. I think ninety percent of the girls in this town have lost their virginity down there.

  “Come on, Reese. We just said that this was the year. We have to network, and The Pit is the place to be!” she begs.

  “I can’t be gone all weekend. You know that. I’d rather go on my actual birthday.”

  “Reese…” she says but then closes her mouth. She looks down at her manicured fingers wrapped around her coffee cup and exhales a deep breath. Looking back up at me, she continues, “I love you, girl, and I love your mom as if she were my own, but…”

  She looks away from me again as she struggles with her words. I have no idea why since she has said them to me a million times.

  “Yes, I know. I need to cut the apron strings.”

  Chelsea gives me a look of pity.

  She’s right. I do hang out with my mom too often for a sixteen-year-old girl. But if I weren’t with her, I would be off doing dumb shit that I’d end up regretting one day anyway. Besides, my mom and I are close. We have an unspoken rule that I can go out one weekend night, and then on the other weekend night, I stay home, so we can hang out. It’s been this way since I can remember, and I like it.

  Chelsea slaps her hand down on the table and leans in. “Well, here’s the deal, missy. You are coming to The Pit tomorrow. It’s not an option. Get me?” Her eyes are wide, meeting my glare.

  With perfect timing, her guy friend approaches, interrupting us, “I didn’t get your number the last time I saw you at The Pit.” He raises his eyebrows and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

  The design tattooed on his forearm grabs my attention. I’d bet he’s too old to be asking for a teenage girl’s phone number.

  Chelsea sets her elbows on the table, clasping her hands. She does her perfect hair toss and licks her lips. She looks at me and winks, which means only one thing. She’s about to make a scene. “Wish my friend here, Reese, a happy birthday, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

  I would gladly sit in her shadow as that hot girl’s friend, if she would only let me. She won’t though. She’s constantly forcing me out of my comfort zone, and those are the times when I hate her.

  “Happy birthday, Reese,” he says in a gravelly voice that confirms my thought about his age.

  He takes my hand in his. Startled, I quickly jerk my arm away from him and scowl at Chelsea.

  “Oh, hey there, killer, I didn’t say touch her,” she hisses.

  He holds his hands up, surrendering, and mouths, Sorry. He casually backs away until he’s far enough to feel safe to turn his back to us.

  I squirt sanitizer on my palm and rub my hands together. “That, my friend, is why I don’t go to The Pit. Weirdos like to touch without an invitation.” I take the last few sips of my coffee and stand up. “Did you and Connor break up?”

  I know they didn’t because I just talked to him while he was at her house, but I want to make a point. I know Chelsea has daddy issues, but she’s seriously on another level in the boy-crazy department.

  “Seriously, Reese, you’re so overdramatic. He was just trying to be sweet. Some girls actually like it when a guy kisses their hand.”

  “I might have liked it, if I liked him. As it is, I don’t even know him, Chels,” I say, aggravated.

  She stands, and we walk toward the front door to leave.

  “And no, we didn’t break up. Why?”

  “You were going to give that guy your number.”

  As I slide into my car, she looks at me from over the roof of her car. “Whatever. I wasn’t going to give him my number. I was just teasing him.” She flashes me a grin that only means trouble. “Call me later.”

  Rolling my eyes, I close my car door.

  I somehow manage to avoid Chelsea for the rest of the day. I visit Gramma, and I leave with a hundred dollars. Then, I drive home and hang out with my mom until she goes to bed.

  I’m lying on the couch, watching TV and eating popcorn, when I get a text from Chelsea at 12:01. It’s officially my birthday.

  You suck for not being here, but happy birthday anyway.

  Thanks! Love you, babe. ☺

  She’s partying at The Pit, and I’m at home, like a lame ass.

  Deciding to treat myself since it is now officially my birthday, I head into the kitchen. I notice my iPod on the counter and pick it up. I tuck it into my pocket and shove the earbuds in my ears. Nick Jonas’s “Jealous” begins to play, so I turn the volume up full blast, and I sing along.

  I collect a bowl, a pint of vanilla ice cream, and a can of root beer, and I set it all on the counter. I prepare my root-beer float and dance around the kitchen. In between drinks I raise my hands and shake my ass. I strut over to the counter to clean up my mess. I turn toward the fridge to put the ice cream away, and out of the corner of my eye, I see something move.

  “Ah!” I take off running into the family room.

  I jump over the back of the couch and land on the seat, sending half a bowl of popcorn flying across the room. Fearing for my life, I curl up into the fetal position and close my eyes. Sensing that someone is standing over me, I crack open one eye. I scream even louder, but then a hand covers my mouth.

  “What the hell, Reese?” Kyle leans over the back of the couch and yanks my earbuds out with the other hand. “Shut up! You’re gonna wake up Mom and Dad!”

  Trying to defend myself, I throw my arms and legs about like a crazy person. I pry his hand off my mouth and gasp for breath. “Oh my god, Kyle!” I shove him in the chest and jump off the couch. “Asshole!” I shoot daggers at him, and I pace across the floor, trying to get my heart rate back to normal. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  I’m pretty sure I just lost a few years of my life. Kyle is on his hands and knees, picking up the popcorn that I spilled. Shaking his head, he quietly cusses me out. When I turn toward the kitchen, I notice that someone else is in the room, and my heart skips a beat again, but it’s for an entirely different reason.

  He is gorgeous. His sandy-blond hair is messy with sweaty curls. Icy-blue eyes latch on to my browns. I take a step backward, and we stare straight into one another’s eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  Kyle brushes past us on his way to dump the popcorn into the trash. “Brady, this is my sister, Reese. Reese, this is Brady. He’s training me until I leave.”

  Kyle will be leaving for Army Basic Training next week. I’m trying hard not to think about it.

  “Hi.” I smile at Brady and slowly walk past him.
I wait just a second and then look over my shoulder.

  His eyes have drifted straight to my ass.

  So predictable.

  My eyes are drawn to his chest, and the defined muscles twitch, causing me to nearly pass out. “Do you want some water?”

  “Sure,” he says with a grin.

  I bet he did the twitching thing on purpose, and he doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that I saw him sneak a peek at my ass.

  I grab two water bottles from the fridge, and I toss one to Brady and the other to Kyle. Brady turns to follow Kyle into the family room, and this time, I check him out as I follow him. He’s wearing black gym shorts with a white T-shirt tucked into the waistband. Just as I did to him, he looks over his shoulder, only he one-ups me and grins, as he runs his hand through his hair.

  Sneaky bastard.

  I think he quite possibly has the cockiest grin I’ve ever seen in my life.

  I sit on the arm of the couch and rest my feet on the cushion near where Kyle is sitting. “What are you guys doing out so late?”

  Kyle shoves my feet away. He grabs the remote and flips through the TV guide across the bottom of the screen. “Brady doesn’t get off work until ten. I ran to the gym, and we worked out. Then, I ran home.”

  He wipes his sweaty forehead on my knee and gently shoves me off the arm of the couch. Apparently, I was invading his space.

  Sitting on the floor, I hug my knees when it dawns on me who he is. I’ve seen him at the gym a couple of times when I’ve worked out with my mom or Kyle. I’ve also spotted him at The Pit. Usually, his lips are locked with whatever anorexic slut he’s practicing to knock up.

  “Oh, yeah. You work at the gym, right?” I use the back of my hand to wipe Kyle’s sweat off my knee and give it back to him.

  Brady pries his eyes off my legs and looks to the TV. “Yeah, I do. What are you watching?” He makes a tortured expression as he watches the cheesy horror movie.

  “A Nightmare on Elm Street.” I turn toward the TV.

  “You must scare easily.” He winks and smiles with just one corner of his mouth.

  I suck in a sharp breath as a near pain shoots through me.