Page 20 of Never Forever

“What does…I don’t think I understand what that means.”

“She’s just really invested in my future,” she said, but I knew there was more to it than that. Carrie changed the subject. Another thing she was good at. Sometimes it felt like I was trying so hard to keep up with her.

“How old were you when your mom left?” she asked.

“Like five.”

“Holy shit,” she said, eyes wide. “I didn’t know that. You were so young.”

I didn’t say anything. There really was nothing to say.

“Have you heard from her?”

“Nope.”

I couldn’t help but notice her shorts were loose around her legs but tight around her waist. Also her black tank top didn’t meet the top of her shorts.

I was trying not to stare at the skin of her stomach.

I was obsessed with the skin of her stomach.

And the skin on the back of her neck, revealed by her pony tail.

And the freckles across her nose.

And the tiny scar on her knee.

“What do you remember about her?” she asked, forcing me out of my study of all things Carrie.

“I don’t know. I can’t really think of anything.”

“Come on, there has to be something. Close your eyes,” she urged me.

“Why?” I did not want to talk about this. I wanted to be clever and cool and make her laugh. I wanted to accidentally brush my hand against her arm. Or better yet, her leg.

I wanted to kiss her.

“So you can remember. My acting coach has me do this.”

Carrie turned to face me on the lip of the stage. One leg dangling, one leg bent so her knee touched my hip. I was awareof my hip with every bit of my body. Paralyzed with awareness and terrified I was about to get another boner. Which happened just about whenever I was with her.

“Come on!” she said, and she grabbed my hands forcing me to turn and sit the way she was sitting. “Close your eyes.”

Her brilliant green eyes were staring into mine. Her fingers were locked with mine. Our knees were touching.

I closed my eyes.

Don’t get a boner.

“Now,” she said. “Think of your mother and tell me what you remember.”

If it was any other person I would have stood up and walked away.

Except this was Carrie Piedmont, who I would basically do anything for.

There were a lot of blank spaces when it came to my mom. A lot of spaces mothers might occupy, but my father was there instead.

Taking me to school. For doctor check-ups. Making breakfast. Packing my lunch. Helping me with homework. Scolding me for a messy room.

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