Page 11 of Crazy for this Girl

“I’ll get more pizza,” I reply, wanting to steer the conversation back to the original topic. My weight makes me uneasy, and I don’t want to be that right now.

Not with Cal.

He’s made me not so self-conscious around boys, and I like that he just has us be. Which includes music, food, and him thinking about more food.

“See, this is why you’re the best, Laynee. Always up for snacks.”

Right.

Well, if I gain three hundred pounds because of him, he’s the one I’m going to blame and send my gym membership bill to.

“You promise you’ll write?” Cal asks me for the eightieth time already this morning as my parents load up our van with all our luggage.

Summer is officially coming to an end, and these past weeks have flown by so quickly that I’ve barely done anything I planned on doing while here.

Instead of reading mostly all day, I’ve hung out with Cal from morning till night. He taught me how to front-flip off the dock, and I taught him how to be patient enough to catch a fish. I’ve listened to so many songs with him, I feel as though my whole world has shifted to a more harmonic vibe. I’ve learned that banana and peanut butter sandwiches are my new favorite thing, and his whole life was changed when I introduced him to piling a bunch of junk food together in one bowl. We call it mix.

Creative, I know.

“I don’t know.” I pat my shoulders down, then the pockets of my jean shorts. “I think I lost the piece of paper that you put your address on, and—”

“Laynee,” he growls out, moss green irises constricted irritably in on me. Again, don’t know why he bothers; they have no effect on me.

I smile purposely big and wide. “I got it, weirdo. How else am I going to get more music?”

“Exactly.” His mouth curls higher and his eyes gleam happily now in the early afternoon sun.

I’m going to miss him more than I’ll ever say to him. None of my friends are even close to being like him, and maybe it’s that California Beach Boy vibe, but I’ve grown to really like it.

“You can save my lists when I write you and download them to your iPod.”

“Illegally,” I counter back. “That’s messed up.” He showed me a program called Napster and how you can get free music, then went on nonchalantly about how punishable by law it is.

“We’re fourteen, Lay. How do they expect us to listen to music? MTV sucks, and the radio only plays mainstream crap.”

“MTV isn’t that bad.”

Cal hits me with a give me a break expression. “Don’t disappoint me while we’re apart. I expect a fully educated music goddess when I see you next summer.”

“Oh, shoot.” My eyes expand artificially, and I look back to my cabin. “Did I say I was coming back here? Dad’s selling the cabin, and I’m going off to boarding school in Switzerland.”

“You wish,” he tsks with a roll of his eyes. “What do they even speak over there?”

“Swiss German mostly.”

“And you know how to speak that?’ He heaves a brow and doesn’t even wait for me to answer before saying, “Didn’t think so.”

“There’s a little thing called a translator.”

“Switzerland has nothing on a summer with me, Tone Deaf. You’ll miss all the fun here.” Cal takes a step toward me and suddenly looks nervous, which causes me to immediately be the same. “I have something for you.”

“What is it?” He pulls his hand from around his back, and in the palm of his hand is a little painted turtle flaying his little feet around. “Oh my God!”

My hands fly to my mouth because I’m immediately in love with him, and this whole time we’ve been talking, I didn’t realize that he had something hiding behind him. We’ve spent all summer with Jonah trying to catch one, and this idiot did.

Go figure.

“Like it?” He tips the little turtle up for me to get a better look and my whole body smiles.

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