Adrenaline Crush Read online

  I keep my expression neutral as I stare into the fire.

  “Polly’s in shock.” His voice is so low I strain for every word. “She’s vulnerable right now, but I’m not ready to go to bed yet. I don’t think she and I should be alone together.”

  Is he telling me that he doesn’t trust himself alone with Polly? Or is he saying he’s afraid she may come on to him? I glance over at her as she settles back into her chair. She looks gorgeous in the firelight. He probably can’t resist her but doesn’t want to take advantage. He picked me for backup.

  I nod at him as if it’s no big deal, and so now it’s just the three of us sitting around the fire. Based on the looks Polly’s giving, she seems determined to outlast me and have Pierce to herself.

  I smile at her sweetly. “Stars look great tonight, huh?”

  My recent and vast experience with insomnia has equipped me for this very moment. I may not have Pierce figured out, but I know that tonight I won’t be letting him down.

  I blink awake to the sound of birds celebrating daylight.

  When I try to move I realize I must’ve dozed off in the chair by the fire. Someone’s placed my sleeping bag over me and it slips down and catches on the armrest. I note with satisfaction that Polly must’ve given up and gone to bed at some point during the night. All the other chairs are empty except for the one next to me where Pierce sits sleeping.

  The two of us talked late into the night while Polly brooded, poking at her cell phone and complaining about having no service. I ended up telling Pierce more about my accident than I’d intended. More than I thought I’d ever tell anyone.

  Pierce could completely relate to my adrenaline-fueled experience, and it actually felt good to share it. He confirmed my sense of losing a part of myself, although, he jokingly pointed out, he did literally lose a part of himself. Tapping his prosthesis with a flashlight, he made it clink and said, “This does not define who I am.” He looked at me and shrugged. “Still figuring that out, mind you.”

  We bonded over how much it sucks when we have to pee in the middle of the night and can’t run to the bathroom, and he told me that the reason he went with the metal-rod prosthetic was because he would’ve had to start shaving his good leg to match a leg-looking one. He held an invisible razor up to his shin with delicate fingers and batted his eyelashes at me. “Not happening.”

  I asked him what his recovery assignment was and he told me Miss had them all go to a massive paintball field out in Plattekill.

  “We had this crazy-intense battle to help me get over the fear that I was going to get triggered and freak out from PTSD.”

  “I can’t really picture Rita wearing camouflage and running around with a paintball rifle.”

  “She was the only one who managed to shoot me.” We both laughed.

  “Did the challenge work?” I asked.

  “Things got pretty heated, but I guess it was encouraging that I didn’t lapse into a violent flashback of being in Afghanistan.” He shrugged. “Miss is seriously into exposure therapy.”

  I leaned back to watch the stars through the tree branches. “Well, camping’s not so bad.”

  Pierce and I melted into comfortable silence while the campfire slowly burned out. The outdoors worked its magic on me until I eventually fell asleep. But that’s the amazing part. Sitting in the middle of the woods underneath the trees, I slept soundly in an uncomfortable camp chair. Something I haven’t managed to do for weeks in my own bed at home.

  Now I watch the rosy sunlight dance through the leaves and across pierce’s face until he starts to rouse. Wrinkling his nose and rubbing it with the back of his hand, he blinks a few times before turning his sleepy eyes on me.

  In the morning light, I feel like I’m seeing the real him. The him that goes deeper than that guy who went overseas and rode through hell and got his leg blown off. His hair sticks up in tufts on one side and his jaw is darkened with slight stubble. For a moment, looking at each other, we’re not cripples

  or patients

  or victims.

  We are just a boy and a girl.

  He blinks at me and my temperature hikes by a few degrees. I ignore the stiffness in my hip as I shift forward. The gaze of his light eyes remains steady. The cold morning air grows wide in my lungs.

  I want him.

  That thought is interrupted by the sound of a zipper unzipping. Miss comes whistling out of the girls’ tent and the spell is broken.

  I shake off my wild impulse.

  Return to the awareness that I have a great boyfriend who I’ll be seeing in a few short hours. Pierce draws down a mask of indifference and raises an eyebrow at me before scrambling up to help Miss get food out of the van.

  One should never underestimate the power of the scent of bacon. It rouses the rest of the group quickly and everyone pitches in to finish cooking breakfast. Afterward, Frank and Rita have an impromptu bacon-eating contest while Sparky and Miss discuss the benefits of free-range eggs. Polly laughs and flips her hair at Pierce as he uses olive oil to clean the iron skillet.

  When he’s done he walks over to where I’m sitting, and Polly tosses me razored looks. I’m grateful Miss took away her can of bear spray.

  “Thanks for staying up last night.” More than hearing Pierce’s whisper, I feel it. “I must’ve nodded off right after you did.”

  “No prob.” I shrug. “Who covered me with my sleeping bag?”

  He grins. “You’re welcome.”

  So now all I can imagine is him placing the sleeping bag over me and maybe even watching me sleep a moment. God, I hope I wasn’t drooling. I blush and look up at the sky, sort of an automatic response after watching the stars for so long last night.

  “Time to break camp!” Miss announces. “Successful mission.” She clamps one arm across Polly’s shoulder. Judging by the way Polly continues glaring at Pierce and me, she doesn’t agree with the mission’s success. At all.

  11

  When Jay comes to pick me up for an early dinner, I’m feeling a little nervous, and it has nothing to do with sharing an inappropriate gaze with another boy. Today is his oldest sister’s birthday, and his whole family is meeting at a sports restaurant in town called P&Gs. Jay practically begged me to come and I’ve run out of excuses.

  When we get to the restaurant, the smiling blond clan is already packed into the biggest wraparound booth in the place. Their hearty greetings engulf me. Jay’s mom slides deeper into the booth and pats the seat next to her. “Dyna’s here,” she says. “It’s easier to get up and down on the end.” I lean my crutches against the back of the bench and she rubs my arm briskly when I sit down.

  Thankfully, Jay gets one of his sisters to change seats so he’s in the chair on the end next to me. A football game plays on the flatscreen televisions throughout the restaurant and Jay explains that it’s the first scrimmage game for their favorite college team.

  “The Panthers are looking good this year,” his mother announces, and the whole family cheers in unison as the blue and gold team makes a play. They’re so enthusiastic, I find myself rooting as loud as the rest of them by the time our waitress shows up.

  “Hey there, Dyna,” she says.

  Jay’s mother eyes the tan girl with chewed-up nails and her long dreadlocks pulled into a fat bun. I try to place her.

  Got it. She’s friends with a few of my climbing buddies, and the two of us went on belay together once. “Hey, Jen. How’s it going?” I say.

  “I heard about your fall. Huge bummer.”

  “I’m hanging in there.” I reach back to pat my crutches, and Jay interrupts us to order artichoke dip with pita for an appetizer.

  In between eating heartily and cheering for the game, Jay’s sisters tell me stories of his talent for finding stray animals needing care.

  “Cats, baby chipmunks, turtles … you name it,” his one sister says. “Every type of frail creature you could imagine came home with Jay.”

  He laughs. “And now I’ve m
oved up to a gorgeous girl who practically fell into my arms.” His sisters clap and one of them says, “Awww,” as Jay lifts my hand he’s holding and kisses my palm.

  “Anything else for dessert?” Jen says with amusement, and Jay’s mother asks if she minds taking a picture of the whole table. We order cake and all sing Happy Birthday to Jay’s sister and then go crazy when the Pittsburgh Panthers win the game.

  Clearing our table, Jen tells me, “Hey, maybe I’ll see you back climbing sometime. I remember you being a total badass on the mountain.”

  “It’s not really my scene anymore.” I joke drily, “Belay off.”

  Jay’s dad was fairly quiet during dinner, but as we all say goodbye he tells me, “I have to admit I was a little skeptical. Jay has gone on about how wild you are, mountain biking and taking risks.” At my cringe he laughs. “I’m glad to see my son was exaggerating. You two make a nice fit.”

  “Yes.” I smile up at Jay’s handsome face. “I believe we do.”

  When we get to my house, Jay walks me to the front door and moves in for a deep kiss. He gives a low “Mmmm” when I slide my body deliberately upward and press against him.

  Whap! Whap! Whap! We’re startled by a banging on the window near our heads. Harley grins maniacally through the glass and waggles his eyebrow ring up and down. I toss my big brother the bird as Jay opens the door and follows me inside. Dad sits in the living room leafing through some tattoo trade magazine while watching a cooking show.

  “Hi, kids,” he says gruffly. “Mom’s upstairs. It’s going to be an Easy Rider night.” He glances up. “That’s a movie, Jay. You’re welcome to join us.”

  Jay stares at Dad as if there’s a rifle aimed at his crotch.

  “He’d love to stay,” I say, squeezing Jay’s hand.

  “Right,” Jay says. “Family movie night. Sounds great.”

  As I pull him into the kitchen I hear Dad mock, “Family movie night.” Jay either doesn’t hear him or else pretends he doesn’t.

  “Don’t be nervous.” I start pouring drinks. “My dad is just a big teddy bear underneath all the growling.”

  “Ha,” Jay says. “More like an enormous grizzly bear protecting his precious cub.”

  Harley sidles up to Jay at the kitchen counter and quietly asks, “Care to watch stoned? It makes this movie way better.”

  “Seriously, Harls,” I hiss. “Dad will bury your body in the backyard if he catches you getting high.”

  Jay says quickly, “No thanks, Harley.”

  “Suit yourself.” My brother heads off to his bedroom to smoke a joint out the window.

  Jay tells me he’s running back to his car for his tablet. “I’ll look up some Easy Rider trivia,” he says. “Your dad will love that stuff.”

  Easy Rider is not just my parents’ favorite film, it’s a viewing ritual performed every summer and it’s always followed up by a road trip. Harley and I used to try to figure out if Dad decides it’s time for our trip and then has us watch Easy Rider to get everyone in the mood, or if he just can’t help himself and has to head for the open road after watching it.

  Twenty minutes later we’re all settled in the living room and the older, curvy version of Columbia Studios’ Lady Liberty is posing onscreen. Jay is telling Mom, “So, I guess Easy Rider introduced Jack Nicholson to the world.”

  She smiles. “Yes, this was Nicholson’s first film.”

  “And apparently they didn’t have a full script when they started,” he says. “They made things up as they went along.”

  “That’s right,” says Dad. “Hired folks they found along the way, too.”

  Jay smiles at me and takes my hand in his. The beautiful countryside scrolls by on our TV while Peter Fonda and Dennis Hopper embark on their motorcycle ride across America.

  “You know, the apehangers look cool,” Dad says to Jay. “But Fonda’s fingers would’ve gone numb after a few hours riding with those sissy bars.” I’m filled with warm feelings toward Dad for finally reaching out to my boyfriend.

  Jay says, “I read on IMDb that Jack Nicholson actually broke one of Peter Fonda’s ribs trying to stay on the back of that bike.”

  Dad squints over at Jay, “What the hell’s an IMD-what?”

  “It’s a website, Dad,” I say. “It gives all sorts of cool trivia about movies.”

  Dad grunts. “Everybody’s an instant expert on everything.”

  Harley tries unsuccessfully to rein in his laughter and Jay gives a quick smile, but he doesn’t relax as the movie itself veers into strangeness. Maybe it’s Jay’s presence, or perhaps it’s the fact that there are a lot of boobs showing near the end, but as I sit watching I realize for the first time that Easy Rider is a stupid excuse for a road trip. And a ridiculously inappropriate family movie.

  When the film ends, Jay gives Dad an awkward handshake that Mom rescues with a swooping goodbye hug. We walk out to his car and Jay gathers me in his arms in the dark and leans back against his driver’s side door.

  “Well, family day has been done,” he says.

  “Yes it has,” I agree.

  As we embrace I can feel him more than see him, which is pretty sexy. I raise my face and extend my neck for my dose of spearmint. After a delicious moment of kissing, Jay pulls back and whispers, “It was a great day because I was with you.”

  “Me too,” I say sleepily.

  “Go tuck yourself into bed.”

  “Why don’t you come tuck me in?”

  “I’d love that.” He looks toward the house. “But I’m thinking if I try it, the movie won’t be the only thing that ends in a fiery explosion tonight.”

  I laugh and Jay kisses me again and helps me get situated on my crutches before sliding into his car. I wave a blind goodbye to his headlights as he drives away.

  It’s not until I’m climbing into bed that I realize I forgot to tell him about getting to know Pierce a little better. I pull my comforter up and decide that smoldering look he and I shared by the burned-out campfire will be less damning once I let Jay know the two of us talked.

  I wonder what the deal is with that guy anyway. What could’ve made him enlist so young? No matter how cool he may have seemed last night, I’ll bet Pierce is still really messed up.

  I imagine him ever-so-casually covering me as I slept. That image cuts to a close-up of sleep drool running down my chin and I cringe.

  Spending overtime with my therapy group clearly has me setting my compass due crazy.

  12

  It’s so hot that Monday morning we should all be worshipping the trees around the deck for their shade. I glance over to where Pierce is studying his hands while Miss talks about what an awesome event occurred Saturday night when Polly doused our campsite with bear spray.

  Polly says she’s probably not going camping again anytime soon, but she admits her fear of the woods was a little out of control.

  “I do feel more powerful after facing it,” she says, and we all applaud.

  “Woot!” Rita holds up Polly’s arm in victory and proclaims, “Bad to the Bone Bitches!”

  To keep with the theme of Polly’s so-called breakthrough, Miss would like each of us to share about fear and the way it affects our lives.

  “Dyna.” I actually flinch at the sound of Miss saying my name. “Would you like to discuss your experience with fear?” I look around at the faces watching me and claw my mind for a response that will satisfy Miss without exposing a whole new personal issue for her to dissect.

  “I guess I just have the same basic fears as everyone else,” I say. “Fear of public speaking, fear of dying, fear of falling—”

  “Ah, yes, your fear of falling,” Miss interrupts. “We’ll need to dig deep into that one since you’re still repressing the memory of your accident.”

  Polly butts in, saying, “I thought I heard you talking about it by the campfire…”

  “It’s still really fuzzy,” I say.

  Miss leans toward me, and Pierce blurts, “Fear is a
choice.”

  Miss is drawn to the light of Pierce’s words like a moth and asks him to go on. I flash him a look of gratitude.

  “We can’t always block fearful thoughts,” he says. “But we can choose how much we allow them to control our lives.”

  He continues talking about the power of fear, and I press back a cocktail of emotions as I’m forced to recognize the underlying anxiety I’ve felt since my fall. I’ve been doing my best to ignore it, but my mind pulses with quiet constant fear that contradicts everything I thought I knew about myself.

  I’m glad when it’s finally time for us to shift our focus to outer healing. Using my cane I shuffle inside with the others, where we discover we’ll be working in pairs this week. Since Sparky and Frank have become lifelong buddies by now and Rita and Polly are the recently formed duo of Badass Bitches, I get paired with Pierce.

  “Gimps with the gimps,” he jokes, and I have to bite my lip to avoid smiling. Workout Barbie brings the two of us to the mats by the windows and shows us a series of stretches we’re to do together.

  When she’s finished demonstrating, Pierce gestures for me to go first. I lie on my back with my good leg raised and he pushes firmly on the back of my thigh, pressing it toward my chest for the count of twenty. The stretch starts to burn but I don’t react as I focus on the woods outside the window.

  Switching to my injured leg, Pierce says, “Let me know if I go too far.” I glance at him.

  Mistake.

  Miss has explained a phenomenon called pain paths, where once the brain has felt a particular pain it’s easier for that pain to be perceived again. Kind of like a weird organic nerve memory that we need to overcome. I suddenly realize Miss is not completely full of shit, because the current that connected me to Pierce at the campsite is back. Those eyes. My insides liquefy as we look at each other.