Dare You To (35 page)

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Authors: Katie McGarry

BOOK: Dare You To
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Ryan’s beautiful words can never wind their way into my soul. I step into air. My heart races to my throat as I fall forward. The pond.

Terrified of the water, I scream. Strong arms weave around my waist and pull me to solid ground.

I lean my back into Ryan’s chest and clutch his arms. My fingernails dig into his skin like hooks. If I fall in, I’m going to drown. The weights upon me are too heavy to stay afloat.

My only option is to sink.

I suck in a few breaths and after I take one longer one, Ryan lowers his head to my ear.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking. Fine doesn’t mean you

shake.”

“I can’t swim, but I’m fine now.”

“You can’t swim,” he repeats.

“No.” A drop of rain lands on my head and slithers down my scalp. “We should go.” The day is ruined. “It’s going to rain.”

Ryan loosens his grip on me and within

seconds, he sweeps me into the air and cradles me against his chest. My face is devastatingly close to his. I blink several times. “What are
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you doing?”

Instead of answering, he jumps into the

pond.

Dizziness overcomes me and my blood

pressure tanks. Water rises and smacks my face, my hair, my clothing. My arms strangle his neck. I’m going to drown. “Ryan!”

“I’ve got you,” he says in a calm tone.

“You’re okay.”

He wades deeper into the cold water.

Gravity calls for me to slide out of his arms and become constrained by the water below.

I’ll suffocate with my eyes open. My hold on him tightens. “Take me back!”

Water penetrates my shoes, my jeans, the

back of my shirt. It pours over my stomach and I grow heavier and heavier. Cold wetness

teases my skin—calling out a hateful,

mimicking laugh. I bury my head in the crook of his neck. I don’t want to die. I don’t.

He stops and whispers into my ear, “Look at me.”

I don’t have the strength to lift my head.

Instead, I ease it to his shoulder and open my eyes.

“I’m going to teach you how to float.”

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I tighten my grip. “You’re going to kill

me.”

“Trust me.”

“I can’t,” I whisper. I trusted Scott, my mother, and my father. I trusted Luke, my aunt, and Isaiah. All people who left me. All people who faded into darkness. My heart has been ripped multiple times and each time I repaired it on my own. I know my limits and if

someone rips me apart again, I’ll never find the strength to pick up the pieces.

An intensity warms his brown eyes and he

gently hugs my body to his. “You can.”

I suck in a breath. Ryan’s doing it. He’s giving me the same look Chris gives Lacy. The same look Noah gives Echo. Maybe I can. My heart thunders as I reach up and grab the hair curling near the base of Ryan’s neck. “Don’t drop me.”

“I won’t.” Ryan’s voice is so soothing—so confident—I almost believe him. Maybe I can believe him. He won’t drop me. He’ll hold me.

He swore it.

“It’s time to let go,” he says.

One breath. Another. He won’t let me go. I loosen my grip and Ryan immediately lowers
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his arms. Water floods over my body and

laps against his chest. My head snaps up and I kick and splash to stay above water. Panic commands my lungs. He’s taller than me,

which means I wouldn’t be able to stand in the water. “Take me back.”

Ryan lowers his forehead to mine. His warm breath fans over my face. “I will never let you go.”

He won’t let me go. He won’t. “Okay.”

Ryan skims his nose along my cheek and

goose bumps rise on my neck. He pulls his head back. I fight the urge to cling to him.

Ryan said he wouldn’t drop me and he won’t.

He won’t.

My hair becomes weightless in the water

and licks my cheeks. Ryan’s strong arms

reaffirm his promise to me. “Tilt your head back,” he says.

I inhale and do as he asks. Water enters my ears and my muscles flinch with fear. Ryan keeps his firm hold. “Spread your arms to your sides and arch your back. Let your legs float.”

As I slowly follow instructions, Ryan steps from me. I jerk toward him. “Ryan!”

He shakes his head. “I’m not letting go. I’m
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giving you room. Keep your head tilted

back.”

Head tilted back. Arms and legs spread out.

My pulse throbs in my ears. Ryan’s voice is muffled, but I can read his lips. “Relax.

Breathe.”

Relax. Head tilted back. Arms and legs

spread out. Breathe. I stare at the clouds overhead and the trees hanging over the pond.

Relax. Head tilted back. Arms and legs spread out. Breathe.

A pair of birds circle in the sky. It’s a playful dance. They spread their wings and let the gentle wind pull them up and over. Down and around. God, I wish I was free. I wish I was a bird floating in the breeze. I close my eyes and pretend I’m a bird. My muscles melt. The

water makes a rhythmic swishing melody in my ears. Away and near. Away and near.

I’m a bird—floating on the breeze. A gentle nudge in the back of my mind whispers that I know this feeling. I’ve owned this feeling for years. This feeling of drifting, swaying, floating. I’m floating. Through the water I hear Ryan’s sweet muffled voice: “You’re doing it.”

I open my eyes and see that glorious smile
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on his lips. The smile that is for me. Me alone. I go to smile back and I realize I already am. I’m smiling. My stomach clenches and the chains return. Oh God, no. I’ve fallen in love with him. I’ve done it. I’ve given him power over me.

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Ryan

BETH IS A BEAUTIFUL FLOATING VISION. Her

black hair drifts on the surface of the water and the peaceful smile I love graces her lips. Her eyes no longer have their glazed guard. They are as calm and deep as the ocean. For the first time ever, Beth is letting me see her soul and if I had any doubts before, they’re gone. I’m in love with Beth Risk.

Beth blinks and the smile fades. Several

raindrops plop into the pond and the sound of the incoming storm taps against the trees. Beth sinks and I catch her before her head goes under.

“Let me go!” Her grip isn’t nearly as tight as I carry her onto the shore. The light rain becomes steady and quickly saturates my hair.

I place Beth on her feet and my heart

plummets. She’s slammed shut her walls.

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She pivots on her feet and darts toward

Scott’s tree line. Beth trusted me in the water.

She cares for me. I know it. The promise I made to her is forever—I will not let her go. I chase after her and grab her by her waist before she steps into the woods. “Dammit, Beth! Stop running from me!”

My pulse hammers through my body. She’s

been running from me from the moment I met her. No matter how hard I try to hold on to her, she finds a way to slip out of my grasp.

Not anymore. Not today.

Water streaks down her cheeks and her hair clings to her head. She shivers violently in the warm fall storm. I rub my hands up and down her arms.

“Let me go,” she again yells over the rain.

“No.” I move my hand to her cheek. Those

eyes that looked so peaceful moments before are crazy with panic. I want her to trust me. I want her to feel what I’m feeling. “I’m in love with you.”

“No! Please. Just don’t!” Her lower lip

trembles and she unsuccessfully smacks at the hand holding her waist.

“Tell me why you’re fighting me. What are
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you scared of?”

Beth’s fingernails dig into the skin of my arm. “I’m scared of nothing.”

“I love you,” I say again and Beth’s panic rises in intensity. She pushes at my arms. The words scare her. She’s scared of love. “I love you, Beth.”

She raises her face and fire rages in her eyes.

“Stop saying that!”

“Why?” Without meaning to, I shake her

gently. I want her to say it back. “I’m in love with you. Tell me why I can’t say it to you.”

“Because you’ll leave!” she screams.

Beth’s chest heaves as if she ran a race. My hold on her tightens. Rain beats against the pond and the trees, creating a strange deafness from the world surrounding us.

“I couldn’t.” Never. Leaving her would be like tearing off my own arm. I’ve never been in love before. I thought I had been, but I wasn’t.

This overwhelming, encompassing feeling is love. It’s not perfect and it’s messy as hell. And it’s exactly what I need.

She steps back and the pouring rain makes it impossible to keep my grip on her slick arms, but I do my best to hold on. My heart aches.

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Beth’s doing it again. She’s walking away.

Desperation seizes my muscles. If she leaves, I’ll lose her for good and I can’t. Not when I just found her. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“I have a gypsy soul.” Beth yanks her hands out of my grasp and stumbles backward. “We won’t work.”

Why is she always slipping through my

fingers? “You’re the one leaving me. Not the other way around.”

She wraps her hands over her stomach as

she continues to walk backward. “I’m sorry.”

Anger erupts from deep inside and takes

control. I don’t lose and I won’t lose her. Beth turns and runs for the forest. She’s fast, but I’m faster. I grab Beth by the waist, yank her to face me, tunnel my fingers into her hair, and kiss her.

She tastes like fresh rain and smells like crushed roses. I don’t care that she’s not kissing back. I move my lips against hers and hug her body to mine. I love Beth and she needs to know that. Know it in her head. More importantly, know it in her heart.

Her fingers lightly tickle my neck as I taste her warm lips. She answers by hesitantly

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kissing my lower lip. Beth tilts her head and we both open our mouths. Her tongue meets mine and I swear the world explodes around us. Her hands tangle in my wet hair and she presses her body into me. She roams my back, and my fingers hungrily touch the soft contours of her waist, then drift lower, gliding along the curves of her thighs. I won’t let her go. I won’t.

I love her.

Beth gasps for air as she pulls my head

closer to her body. My lips trail kisses down her neck and I savor each delicious taste of her skin.

Her hands slide to my chest, curl into fists, and she pushes me away as she takes a step back. “I can’t do this!” And she runs off into the rain.

I’VE STARED AT THE COMPUTER since ten. At eleven, I’m still staring. The cursor blinks on and off. I’ve got no words. The decision has to be made. Do George the zombie and Olivia the human fall in love and stay together, or is Beth right? Am I forcing my characters into

something so unrealistic that no reader would ever believe it?

My cell vibrates again. I glance at it in
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anticipation. Maybe it’s Beth. I sink lower in my chair. It’s Gwen. Again.

Gwen:
why aren’t you answering?

Because I’m not in love with you. She’s not used to being denied. I’m not used to denying her and her constant barrage of texts and calls throughout the night shoves the knife further into my windpipe. I’m in love with a girl who doesn’t love me back.

Part of me wants to answer Gwen and go

back to my previous life. Nothing was

complicated then. Nothing hurt too much or seemed confusing. Everything was planned.

Perfect.

On the outside, that is. How did I miss that everything internal was a mess? My parents.

Mark. Me and Gwen. Lacy. Is Chris a mess?

Logan? How many more of us are faking the facade? How many more of us are pretending to be something we’re not? Even better, how many of us will have the courage to be

ourselves regardless of what others think?

I flip off my computer screen and the

overhead light, yank off my shirt, and lie down in bed, even though I know sleep won’t come.

The problem with feeling too much is how the
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hurt consumes every part of me. A slow

agonizing throb aches in my head.

Rain continues to beat against the roof. A storm front that was supposed to hit tomorrow flew into the area today and stalled out over town. Part of me doesn’t want the storm to pass. This was our rain—mine and Beth’s.

“Can I come in?”

I jerk up at the sweet sound of Beth’s voice coming from the other side of my open

window. My fingers fumble with the screen and it bangs against the house as it falls to the ground. I hold my hand out to her and help as she swings one drenched jean-clad leg over the frame, then the other.

The dim light from my alarm clock casts a strange blue shadow over Beth as she shakes uncontrollably next to the window. Her wet hair clings to her head and her clothes cleave to her body. Drops of rain slither down her face and her teeth chatter. “I hhaadd ttoo sseee youu.”

“Here, use this to towel off.” I drape a

blanket around her shoulders, stare at her to convince myself she’s really here, then

rummage through my drawer. I pull out a T-HC TITLE-AUTHOR

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shirt and a pair of cotton sweatpants and hand them to her. In one quick motion, I turn.

“Change. I promise I won’t look.”

Though I want to. She’s here and I’ll do

anything to keep her from running. Beth feels like this storm. Constant and persistent as a whole, but the more I get close and try to clutch the individual drops of rain, the more the water falls out of my hands.

I hear the sound of wet material stubbornly moving against her skin and then the sound of cotton being tugged over her head. “Okay,” she says in a small voice.

I suck in a breath and suppress the groan.

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