Just a Dare

Chapter Twenty-Six

I had been an angry, scared, and confused kid caught in the middle of a hurricane and I didn't stand a chance against those winds that plucked my dad from my grip as I stood in the eye of the storm. In that month, I realized that it didn't matter how much I loved him or how badly I'd wanted him to get better because some things were just meant to be. Every single person you met and got the chance to know made some kind of impression on your life and left it forever changed-left you forever changed.

I also learned another important lesson from that realization, and that was that after your time with that person expired you could do one of two things: you could lie around in bed and waste your life away like I had done for nearly four straight weeks, or you could be grateful for whatever amount of time you'd gotten to spend with them and take the lessons they'd taught you during it and apply them in your life as you moved forward. I had spent a lot of time holding onto the past because I was afraid of forgetting. I was scared that if I took even one step away from my dad and Rob and even Mel that the memories I had with them would slowly disappear.

But as that month of despair slowly drew to a close and I sat up and opened my window to look outside for the first time in I couldn't remember when, I saw the sun shining through the blinds and I realized that moving forward doesn't mean you have to let go of those memories. Moving forward simply means that you're packing them in your bags to take with you so that you can look back on them from time to time to remind yourself of the people who influenced your life.

As I looked up from the notepad on my desk, my hand still unmoving, I focused my gaze on the woman in front of me. She had taken to leafing through one of the files she'd brought, her glasses back in place on the bridge of her nose, her short brown hair tucked behind one ear.

And as I watched her eyes glancing over the words on the page, I was reminded again that of all the people I had collected those souvenirs from, she had a large trunk in my memories just for her.

She had not been the most popular in school and especially not the most sought after. She was an annoying know-it-all, unafraid of sparking a debate to prove she was right about something-and she usually was. She wore her hair in a plain braid or ponytail most of the time and was too lazy to put on makeup. She didn't wear the most remarkable clothes and she usually wore Converse tennis shoes. She wasn't the bustiest or curviest girl I'd ever known-in fact, she was quite the opposite as far as proportions went.

She had been an unbelievably simple girl back then, but I had found a unique beauty in her simplicity. Yes, she grated on every last nerve I had most of the time, but there were single, significant moments that would make up for it like when she would crinkle her freckled nose and blush when I'd make a perverted joke or the little breathy giggle that would accidentally slip past her lips between soft kisses.

"What else?" I asked her, aching to hear her voice again just to make sure she was really there. I glanced down at my notepad and scribbled the previous information down after realizing I'd failed to do so.

She looked up at me from her papers before neatly sliding them back into the file and placing it back on her stack. "David made a lot of progress during our sessions. He genuinely seemed like he was getting through it because after a few months, he started smiling more often and I could see a light in his eyes. But then," she sighed and took her glasses off, rubbing her temples, "well, I don't know. This happened. It just doesn't make sense."

I wrote down what she had told me and noticed that she was breathing a little heavier than normal, her eyes downcast, and my expression softened. It did matter to her. I knew it would. And I could tell she blamed herself. I put the pen down and said gently, "I think we've covered enough for today, Ms. Scribner."

She looked up at me after releasing a shaky exhale and her dark red-painted lips curled into a grateful smile. "Thanks." She whispered, and I could tell she didn't trust her voice just yet. She cleared her throat and stood, placing her briefcase on my desk and popping it open to put her papers inside of it. Her eyes were trained on the task at hand, placing the pages and folders inside with a certain order that made sense to her, and I noticed that she opened and closed her mouth a few times. I noticed that her hands seemed hesitant as she, more slowly, put things in their place, and I recognized that she was debating on whether or not she was going to tell me something.

I was about to open my mouth to inquire, but she finally seemed to have made up her mind. Without looking up, she said softly, "You don't have to call me that."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "What?"

She did glance at me this time, and for a second I swore I saw those smooth lips twitching at the corners as if she were fighting back a grin. "A lot of things have changed in the past ten years, Trey," she said as she buckled her briefcase, straightening and pulling her glasses off in one fluid motion, and my heart did an odd little twist as she said my name, "but my name isn't one of them."

I couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled through my chest and before I knew what I was doing, the words had already escaped my lips. "Well, Melody, how about we grab some brunch and you can explain to me what has?"

I wanted to take it back because I knew it made me the vulnerable one, but I was willing to do anything to prolong the time she was in my line of vision even if that meant she was going to reject me right then and there. I threw on an easy smile as I walked over to grab my coat that I'd left hanging on the rack last week and shrugged my arms into it.

She stood there the whole time, just quietly watching me, and as I buttoned it up I saw her pull her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Well?" I asked, feeling more confident than I probably should've. Just being in the same room as her after all this time had me feeling strangely warm and giddy like the cheeky teenager I used to be again.

I hesitated at the door, my stagnant hand poised on the handle. I saw the debate in those bright emerald eyes but I refused to let my smile falter for even a moment.

She let out a breath and her face broke out into a small beam. "Okay," she agreed slowly and I could feel my grin broadening as my heart galloped away, "but on one condition."

I quirked a questioning brow.

"You have to do some explaining yourself," she challenged me.

I winked at her and opened the door, gesturing for her to walk through it before me. As she brushed past me, I told her, "I think I can do that."

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I'm actually at my little sister's first winter guard competition so I don't have time to write a long author's note like I usually do.

Sooo... See you next Saturday. ;)
~Caitlyn