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Authors: Kels Barnholdt

Caught Up In You

BOOK: Caught Up In You
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CAUGHT
UP IN YOU

BY
KELS BARNHOLDT

Copyright
2014
Kels
Barnholdt, all rights reserved.

No
part of this work may be reproduced without written consent of the author. This
book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.

NOTE:
This book is for a mature YA audience only.

 
 

Chapter
One

 

I feel like the greatest pain comes from
wanting something so bad and knowing that you can’t have it. It can be a
person, or a thing, or maybe even a dream you know deep down will never be
realistic. Whatever it is, it’s the first thing you think about when you wake
up in the morning, and the last thing you think about at night before you go to
sleep. It’s the person, or thing, you spend your time dreaming and yearning for
in the deepest parts of your soul. The hope of it is what keeps you going, no
matter how small the chance is that you may actually get it. It’s the glimpse
of it that keeps you from going completely and totally insane.

The only thing that could be worse is
getting what you thought you could never have, and then getting it taken away
again, because then you’ve known what it’s like to really have. You know what
it’s like to really hold in your arms and call yours. To not just daydream
about tasting it, or feeling it, but to actually taste and feel it. Then
realize you can never do those things again, no matter how bad you crave it.

This is what I think about as I watch
Nathan Daley effortlessly toss his North Face into his locker. He breaks out
into a laugh at something that one of his teammates says, and I feel my heart
melt. I can’t make out what’s being said from this far down the hall, but it’s
enough to make me wish I
was
close enough to hear that
laugh. The laugh that haunts my thoughts on a
day to day
basis.

Angelina turns around from where she’s
standing in the hall a few feet ahead of me and shakes her head in a
disapproving way, causing her heap of beautiful curls to bounce in every
possible direction. “You can’t just run away every time you see him, you know,
it’s a school. You won’t be able to avoid him forever.”

I scowl and turn around on my newly
painted toes, allowing myself to walk in the opposite direction of Nathan and
his friends.

Angelina gains on me quickly, throws her
arm around my shoulder, and causes my body to come to a stop in the middle of
the hallway. The kid behind us almost slams into us. He’s able to stop himself
at the last minute, but shoots me a dirty look. He makes a big show of sighing
really loudly, like he can’t believe I would be so inconsiderate. Geez, it’s
not my fault, Angelina practically tackled me. Why isn’t he shooting her the
dirty look? I make a point to give Angelina a harsh stare. I’m hoping he’ll get
the point that it was clearly her fault, not mine.

He doesn’t.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going!

He looks really annoyed now, like we really messed up his
day or something.

“Relax, dude, it was an accident,”
Angelina points out calmly.

He rolls his eyes, mumbling something
under his breath as he walks away. I can’t really make out what he says. I’m
pretty sure it’s something about stupid freshman.

Wow, I do not look like a freshman.

“I do not look like a freshman!” I tell
Angelina aloud now.

“Of course you don’t.” She looks around
quickly as if to make sure no one important can hear her. “You’re just a little,
you know, shorter than most.”

“I am NOT short!”

Angelina looks me up and down then shrugs
like I’m in denial. “It’s your first day back at newspaper, let’s not be late,
okay?”

I casually glance behind my shoulder and
run my fingers through my hair, trying to buy myself some time. Luckily,
Nathan’s gone from the spot he was standing in just moment before.

“Okay,” I tell her happily swinging my
body around. “Let’s go!”

Angelina lets out a sound of annoyance
but starts walking with me down the hall anyway. We’re headed toward the
computer lab, since our newspaper meetings are held there.

“You’ve been really on edge with him
since your little run in last week, huh?”

“Little run in?” I ask her blankly. “Oh,
you mean when I shoved my tongue down his throat and he pushed me off him? And
pretty much told me to stay away from him forever, that little run in?”

Angelina links her arm through mine and
we fall into the same rhyme as we walk.

 
“The real reason you don’t want to see him has nothing to do with being
embarrassed about the other night, you do realize that right?” Angelina smiles
and waves at some girl with blonde hair carrying
a
arm
full of books.

“It doesn’t?” I ask her softly. Partly
because I’m curious and partly because I know what she’s saying is the truth.

“Of course not,” she tells me very
sternly. “The real reason is because you know if you’re around him, you wont be
able to control yourself. Then, sooner or later, you’ll end up telling him the truth.
Which, let’s face it, you should have already done. You should have done it the
second you walked out of that crazy asylum. The second you came back to reality.”

I shoot her a warning look, glancing around.
I hope no one heard her.

“Sorry,” she whispers. She looks like she
really means it, too. “I’m just saying, I don’t feel like you can avoid him
forever.”

“Of course I can,” I tell her. It even
surprises me how sure of myself I sound. “I have everything completely under
control,”

But the second we turn the corner and
walk into the computer lab, I’m reminded of how untrue this is. And that’s
because right there sitting in the front row, as if it’s the most natural thing
in the world, is Nathan.

And the twists just keep on coming.

***

 

To say Nathan and me have a complicated
history would be an understatement. Complicated would be a blessing. Complicated
would be better than what the situation really is. Complicated would make me
feel like I was walking in Central Park on a beautiful fall day, out for a nice
stroll. The reality is way worse than complicated. The reality is more like
walking through a pile of crushed up glass with no shoes on, over and over
again, while people stand around and watch you, not even offering you any help.

The thing about Nathan Daley is this; I’m
pretty sure I’m totally and completely in love with him, and he’s my
stepbrother.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, but
it’s really not that gross. I mean
,
there’s no blood
relation. It’s not like you can help when you fall for someone. Hello, the
heart totally wants what it wants. Which is what I came to realize in my
3-month stay at the wellness center, a boot camp situation for troubled teens.
It’s where my dad and stepmother sent me when they realized Nathan and me were
spending the night in each other’s rooms.

The wellness center was awful. It was
something I never wanted to go through again. It was also something I would
wish upon no one. No matter how much I didn’t like them. After three months of
finding myself, I was told that my relationship with Nathan was nothing
meaningful. I was told it was nothing more than a way to deal with the mixed
emotions I had over my mother’s death, that there was really nothing between
the two of us. Once I convinced the staff I actually believed this, I was
finally released. Finally allowed to return home and allowed to go back to my
old school.

Cut to me rushing into Nathan’s arms and
telling him the horrible truth about where I had been, he then tells me
everything is going to be okay because he’s hear now, then we run away together
and never look back, living happily ever after, right? Wrong. In fact, it’s not
even in the same atmosphere as what’s right. That’s because when I finally got
out of the wellness center, all I came back to was more complications than
ever.

First of all, I wasn’t allowed to go home,
so it’s not like I really had much opportunity to see Nathan. Instead, I was
released into the custody of my aunt. An aunt I never even knew existed until
the day of my release. An aunt who lives in a penthouse suite on top of a hotel
that she owns.

And Nathan? Nathan was never told where I
went. Instead, he thought I ran away to my aunt’s house for three months. Just
to get away from him and the stress of our situation. Hence why he hates me now,
or at least why it seems like he hates me so much.

Oh, and he also happens to have a
girlfriend now. Which makes no sense because it was like pulling teeth getting
him to open up to me, but the second I’m gone he apparently becomes Mr.
relationship. The worst part is that his girlfriend isn’t even someone I can
hate, since she’s never really done anything to me.

Now, if you’re like my best friend,
Angelina, you’re probably thinking to yourself right about now that I’m a total
fool for not telling him the truth about everything. It’s easy to think that,
and the selfish part of me has wanted to do just that about a million times
already. The truth, though, is that it’s not quite that easy. Mostly because I
had to sign something upon my release from the wellness center saying I
wouldn’t tell anyone about where I had really been for the last three months. Not
even the people I felt like I was the closest to in this world. If anyone ever
found out that where I really was they would send me right back, and this time
until I turned 18. That alone was enough to scare me into keeping my mouth
shut. Another few years in that place would be like another twenty years to me.
 

But there was something else, something
that in the back of my mind and the deepest part of my soul was even worse.
Nathan seemed happy. He had this amazing girlfriend who was beautiful, and
smart, and well liked by almost everyone. He was getting college scouts wanting
to work with him from all over the country. It was like my absence had somehow
granted him pleasure. Even though I knew it was just my own insecurity making
me feel that way, it still hurt.
 

They say when you really care about someone
you just them to be happy, even if it’s without you. The truth was I hated
thinking he could be happy without me because I was so miserable without him. I
felt empty, like a part of me was missing.

I still feel that way. I fear it’ll never
go away.

 
 

Chapter
Two

 

Nathan’s wearing a pair of black Nike
pants with a red stripe on the side, and a white long sleeved shirt with the
Michael Jordan symbol in the right hand corner. My eyes travel to his feet and
I notice the new Lebrons that were released last week plastered perfectly on
his feet. I only know what they are because Nathan has every single pair of
shoes
Lebron
James has ever made. These ones in
particular he had been waiting for and talking about since we had been… Well,
since we were whatever we were.

And now he had them, but Nathan had a way
of getting whatever it was he wanted. Or whoever it was he wanted for that
matter.

Up close I’m reminded of just how dark
his features are and just how flawless his complexion is. His hair is messy and
spiked in every which direction. He looks like he just got out of the shower.

The thought of him in the shower is
enough to make me feel hot all over. I can feel my face starting to turn red
and I force myself to tear my eyes away from his perfection, practically tripping
over my own feet in the process. Angelina rests her tiny hand on my back. Somehow,
it’s enough to steady me.

“Relax,” She commands softly.

I nod and allow her to guide me to a seat
toward the middle of the room. If Nathan notices that I’m here, he doesn’t show
it. For some reason this makes me both thankful and bitter at the same time.

I glance down at my PINK sweatpants and
zip-up, immediately wishing I had tried a little harder this morning to look my
best. Ugh, what was he doing here anyway? He wasn’t even on newspaper!

“What’s he doing here?” I hiss at
Angelina.

Then I realize something, something
awful, Angelina doesn’t look shocked and horrified about Nathan’s presence the
way I do. In fact, Angelina looks almost happy. Then I see it, the corner of
her lip twirls up the tiniest bit in the corner, almost as if she’s trying not
to smile. It’s the same look she got freshman year when she secretly set me up
with Tommy Fletcher so I wouldn’t have an excuse to not go to our first high
school dance. She’s up to something, something bad, and every inch of my body
is screaming that it involves Nathan.

“Angelina,” I say calmly.

She looks away.

“Angelina!” I hiss.

She pretends to be busy playing with the
bracelets around her wrist.

I’m about to reach my hand over and pull
on one of her curls to show her I mean business when suddenly Mrs. Turner is
calling my name loudly and waving at me from the front of the room. Suddenly
everyone in newspaper is very aware of my existence if they weren’t already.

Mrs. Turner is a big woman with bright
red hair, her eyes are a deep green, and her nose sprinkled with tiny freckles.
I can’t remember a time when I had ever seen her without a smile plastered
across her face. Oh, and she absolutely loved me.

She was my English teacher freshman year
and she had always praised my writing skills. She would swear up and down I was
going to be something special one day. At the time it was something that I had
blown off and thought was silly. Now, though, after everything I had been
through in the past few months, it felt nice. Writing had really saved me with
everything that had happened to me, it was something I appreciated when I
looked back on it.

After all, there’s something to be said
for the people who believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself.

I try to make myself as comfortable as
possible, considering all talking in the room has stopped and all eyes our on
me.

“I’m so glad your back!” she exclaims
loudly.

Which makes no sense, because besides the
occasional wave in the hall over the past few years Mrs. Turner and me haven’t
had any communication at all. So, I’m not sure how she could have really missed
me. The other strange thing about her overwhelming response to me being back in
newspaper is that Mrs. Turner isn’t even involved with the newspaper. I don’t
think I’ve ever seen her at one meeting, like ever.

Unless, oh god, there’s no way she would
come here just to welcome me back, would she? I mean, it’s sweet and all, but
the last thing I need is more attention drawn to the fact that I’ve been gone
for three months.

She must mistake my look of pure shock
for awe or something because suddenly she’s putting her hand over her heart and
smiling even bigger than before.

“When I heard you were coming back I told
Angelina to make sure you were here bright and early so I could talk to you
first! You know, catch you up on what you’ve missed! Now, come on up to my
desk!” she says, never talking a breath. Suddenly, I’m reminded all to quickly
that this is how she talks, so fast that if you aren’t careful you could miss
something important.

I glare at Angelina, but she just smiles
back at me sweetly, like she has no idea why I’m looking at her like a crazy
person. Something is wrong here, really wrong, I can feel it in the pit of my
stomach.

“Up here, Victoria!” Mrs. Turner is
waving from the front of the room now. She’s sitting behind a wooden
desk,
the same happy smile on her face.

I slowly get up and make my way to her
desk. As I do, thank god, the talking starts up in the room again.

Mrs. Turner pats the seat she’s pulled up
next to her desk and orders me to sit down with her eyes. I do, mostly because
I’m not sure what else to do at this point.

“I’m so glad you’re back! When Angelina
told me you wanted to come back to newspaper, I said yes right away! I think
she was a little unsure, you know, since I took over the newspaper I’ve changed
the way things are run a little bit, but I told her of course there was always
room for the best writer in the school on my team! Did you know that I still
read the paper you wrote on the diary of Ann frank as a example of the perfect
essay in all my classes?”

I’m not sure if this is a question or a
compliment so it takes me a minute to respond.

“Really?” I ask her. “Well, that’s…” I
trail off unsure of how to finish.

“Wonderful! I know!”

So Mrs. Turner was the new head of
newspaper? Why? And more importantly why hadn’t Angelina told me about it? I
mean, that was clearly something significant enough for me to informed about
unless…

“Here you go!” Mrs. Turner is saying now
shoving a bunch of files in my hands. I don’t have a chance to answer, like
usual, I glance down at the files but before I can open them, she’s throwing
even more into my hands. “Oh, this is going to be such a exciting article! When
Angelina first pitched the idea to me I knew right away how rare and unique
this would be. Just imagine with all the press and attention he’s getting right
now, this could take your writing to the next level! Maybe even get the
attention of a major paper! Can you imagine? The New York Times!”

The New York Times?
What the hell is she talking about? And
who’s getting a lot of press right now?

“Of course, they would probably want a
interview with me since I’m the one who gave you the story and all, I’d have to
buy a new outfit and maybe get a hair cut.” She touches her hair as if she’s
deciding what she could possibly do with it, then the far away look in her eyes
goes away and she must mistake the confusion on my face for nervousness because
before I know it she’s giving me a pat on my shoulder. “But don’t worry, you’ll
do great, nothing to worry about. I mean
,
all the
scouts will probably end up reading it. Plus, I’m sure it will be included in
his college applications and most coaches will want a copy. But like I said, no
pressure!”

I can barely make out what she’s saying
anymore, because my eyes and mind are to busy focusing on the files that are
surrounding my now shaking hands. Nathan, it’s all about Nathan.
Nathan’s stats, his grades, his awards, and his pictures.
Oh
my gosh
, the pictures. Nathan on the court, Nathan
with awards, Nathan giving speeches, Nathan with his friends. There’s even a
picture of Nathan with my dad and his mom somewhere at the bottom, they’re
standing outside the front of our house dressed up like they’re about to go out
for a night on the town. I don’t recognize it, so it must have been during the
time I was away and at the wellness center. And then I see it somewhere in the
mix, a picture of Nathan with his new girlfriend. They’re at some dance,
smiling happily at the camera, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I feel a sob catching in my throat but somehow push it back down.

I stick all the pictures and articles
back into one of the envelopes and snap it shut much harder than necessary.
Mrs. Turner jumps a little bit at the amount of force my hand has on the
envelope, causing her red curls to bounce a little. The look of shock on her
face makes me instantly feel bad. I mean, she’s always been super nice to me,
and it’s not her fault I fell for my stepbrother and then got sent away to a
boot camp for troubled teens. It’s not her fault that now I have to see him
with his new perfect girlfriend, while I fantasize about being with him every
second of every day. All she’s trying to do is be a nice person and a good
teacher, and here I am completely crazy and clearly about to cause her a lot of
problems. It’s obvious whatever she’s talking about involves Nathan, which
means I can have absolutely no part of it. Like, none what so ever.

“Look, Mrs. Turner, I’m not sure exactly
what Angelina told you, but the thing is this…” I trail off and allow my eyes
to rest on Angelina who is suddenly very busy burying her nose in some textbook.

“Oh! She told me everything,” she says
happily. Then she gently takes the pile of envelopes out of my hand and sets
them back on her desk, like maybe she’s thinking better of giving me such
important material so soon.

“Everything?” I ask her in a whisper.

What exactly does she mean by everything?
She can’t really mean everything, no way Angelina would tell her everything. No
way in hell, right?

She nods, “Yup, everything, about how
you’re staying with your aunt and all because of the problems at home. I agree
with her, why should you and Nathan have to struggle just because you and your
dad can’t see eye to eye on uh… how to cope with everything that’s happened
with your mother and all.”

I try to shoot Angelina daggers but once
again she’s pretending I don’t exist. I try to send her a mental message of how
pissed off I am at her, but if she receives it she doesn’t show it.

“This will be the perfect way for you and
your brother to spend a lot of time together! Two weeks in the life of the
NBA’s next big thing Nathan Daley! Just imagine the attention we will get! And
who better to write it then his own sister!”

The NBA? Whoa, let’s not get ahead of
ourselves here, I mean, he has to make it through college first. Wait, did she
just say sister?

“Stepsister,” I correct her.

“What?” She looks confused now, like I
suddenly have four heads instead of just one.

“You said sister, I’m his stepsister.”

“Same difference,” she tells me,
shrugging.

I want to tell her that actually, no, it’s
not the same thing at all, but it’s not like I can tell her why it’s not the
same, because if he was my actual brother I wouldn’t be dreaming about taking
his clothes off every two seconds.

I’m trying to figure out what the best
approach is here. I mean, what can I say that would possibly make her
understand that there is no way in hell that I can write this article? I guess
I could say that I don’t think it’s a good idea to add more tension to our family
at the moment, or maybe I could say that I was hoping to take on a smaller
project for my first article. I’m about to go with the family excuse when I see
Nathan stand up out of the corner of my eye.

He’s walking straight toward us. Great. I
immediately look at the ground, trying to avoid eye contact. I’m scared of what
might happen if my gaze locks with his, it serves little purpose since his
presence alone is enough to drive me crazy.

“Mrs. Turner?”

Just those few words send a chill up and
down my entire body. God, why does his voice have to be so sexy?

“I’m not trying to be rude but coach is
going to be on me if I’m late for practice, we’re on a really tight schedule with
the game and everything coming up. So, maybe we could, like, get this show on
the road?”

“Of course,” she says loudly. “I just
wanted to introduce you to the person who will be writing the article about
you!” She laughs after she says it, like it’s the funniest joke ever. Like, ha-ha,
get it? Since you already know her? She points her finger at me as if to
deliver the punch line.

Well, this will actually be much easier
than I thought, turns out I wont have to say anything because there is no way
Nathan will be okay with this. Well, good, I can just sit back and relax while
Nathan comes up with whatever lie he has to tell to get us out of this mess.
Then I will be assigned something different. Everything will work out perfect,
maybe something simple. Like an in depth article about what we really eat in
the lunchroom. I mean, sure, it’s been done before but who doesn’t love a good
story about what really goes on in the cafeteria? It’s a hit every time!

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