Page 49 of Catch the Sun

“There’s never a bad time to make your cardiovascular health a priority.”

Doubt glints in her gaze. She crosses her arms over a periwinkle nightgown “You must be feeling better?”

“I feel great.” I stretch out my arms, then twist one behind my back like I’m preparing for a midnight run. “I slept all day, so now I’m awake. Sorry… I knocked over my lava lamp…while doing jumping jacks.”

She glances at my chaotic nightstand and scrubs both hands over her face. “All right. Well, try to get some rest. I have melatonin if you need it.”

I smile and nod. “Yep. Great. ’Night.” When she backs away, I close the door and lock it, pressing my forehead to the wood and blowing out a breath. Rustling noises have me trudging over to the closet and swinging it back open.

Max arcs an eyebrow. “You hid me in here like I’m your dirty little secret.”

“Yeah, well, the last thing I want right now is my mother’s the-birds-and-the-bees spiel after she discovers a boy in my bedroom.”

He plucks one of my old stuffed animals, which happens to be Tweety Bird, from an open box. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t want to summon a parental lecture on avian and apian relationships.”

Max tosses Tweety at me and I catch it with ease. “You should probably go now,” I tell him, holding back a smile.

“Can I come by tomorrow?” He steps out of the closet and shuffles past me to the window.

“Why?”

“To see you.”

“I look like death that has been put through a blender, microwaved, and then left out in the sun to rot.”

Before he slips through the open window, he turns to face me. His eyes soften in the magenta haze. “You don’t look like death, Sunny,” he says. “You look like the opposite.”

Glancing at my nightstand that houses the potted crayon and a little white stone, Max sends me a farewell nod, then draws a leg up and climbs out the window, leaving me alone in my quiet room.

I swallow, staring at the way the drapes flutter and sway in the night breeze as his figure disappears into the dark.

His presence lingers.

I can still feel his arms around me as he carried me home from the lake.

Shivering, I drink in a shaky breath and rub at my arms before stalking back to my bed. I pluck the stone from my bedside table and curl up under the blankets.

When the sun rises the next morning, it’s still there, tucked inside my palm.

Chapter 12

Ella

Andy Sandwell glares at me across the classroom with two bruised black eyes.

I click the end of my ballpoint pen with my thumb, maintaining eye contact. I don’t surrender this time. I won’t give up. I have too much to live for—homemade guacamole, good books, legal adulthood right around the corner, the sweet victory of peeling an orange in one go, and Max’s lists.

I realize that now.

I’m not sure why Andy has two black eyes, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he accidentally ran into a brick wall. Flashing him a smile, I scribble something onto a blank notebook page and discreetly tilt it toward him:

I’d love a tutorial on that sexy smoky eye. Are you practicing for the dance?

He flips me off and I throw him a wink.

Beside me, a new student sits quietly, a boy who recently moved here from the Philippines while I was home fighting off a pesky lung infection. His name is Kai, a name as short and crisp as the black hair that hangs over his eyes like a veil. His locker is two down from mine. He’s shy and reserved, but when he catches my note to Andy, he snorts a soft laugh.

A potential ally. Sweet.

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