The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,80
focused on the feel of Cotton’s capable fingers. It was very distracting that he smelled like fresh bread and that indescribable him-scent.
“Will I have a scar?”
“Probably.” He took the bit of tape she offered and put it into place. Only room for one more piece.
“You could be a doctor. You’re smart enough. And calm. You have a reassuring bathtub-side manner.” She tried out his name: “Doctor Talley.”
“No.” He tilted his head, eyeing her leg. He ran his finger along the edge of tape, as if measuring it by touch. “I wouldn’t want to give anyone bad news.”
Damn. She reached out and placed her hand firmly against his cheek.
He leaned into her touch, then pressed the last butterfly into place.
“I look like a mixed-up treasure map.” She eyed the row of bandages. “X marks the spot.”
“You’re going to need to leave them in place for about a week. Don’t get them wet.”
“But I can still cave. Right?”
Cotton was quiet. For long enough that she worried he was avoiding telling her bad news. Then he said, “Do you want to spend the night in the cave tomorrow? In order to have more time for mapping? My parents approved our plan.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” He paused, with a funny look on his face. “Flutie is coming too. Leo has been taking her caving. He assures me she will not be a liability.”
“Is it weird that your best friend and your sister like each other?”
“I don’t think I have clear parameters on ‘weird.’”
She laughed. “I think it’s nice. And an overnight cave slumber party sounds incredible.”
“Is your answer yes? You will come with us?”
“Yes, Cotton. My answer is definitely yes.”
He gently moved her leg off his lap and stood up to wash his hands. Looking at her through the mirror he asked, “How did you cut yourself?”
“I went to the quarry with Maggie. She didn’t want to go to the college fair.”
“I didn’t want to go either. You know I can’t go to college. I looked for you.”
“I wish you’d been with me.”
“You didn’t ask me to come.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I mean, I was thinking about you. But I didn’t think you’d want to be there. Or I didn’t think to invite you. It wasn’t really your group.”
“I don’t have a group.”
“Me neither. Even Maggie hates me.”
He didn’t argue or question. She stood up. Her leg still hurt, but it was easier to ignore now, especially if she leaned to the other side. The bathroom was a tight space, Cotton was close. She focused on his reflection.
“We could be a group,” she said to him in the mirror. “You and me. A small and exclusive group. There could be . . . kissing in our group.”
He tilted his head. “You liked that?”
“Yes, Cotton. I liked that.” She laughed. “Very much. Couldn’t you tell?”
“It’s not like I ever thought someone like you would like someone like me.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that. She was missing something. She pressed her hands against her temples. Smoothed her hair away from her face. Lifted her chin. Maybe she could hide the way she felt shaky now. A bundle of jangled nerves. This was Cotton. They could figure this out together.
“What does that mean? ‘Someone like you’ or ‘someone like me’? Do you think someone like me wouldn’t like someone who’s kind?”
“I have trouble with flexibility. I worry about time and rules. And everything.”
“So, someone like me wouldn’t like someone who actually cares about things?”
“I’m geeky.”
“You mean smart. And I’m not.”
“You’re smart. But you’re also beautiful.”
“I’m a mess.”
“Yes. You’re kind of filthy and your hair is doing a strange twisty thing. And you still have blood on your shirt. But, you are beautiful. You’re strong and fit. And I’m . . .” He hunched over, his cheeks pink and flushed. “I’m not.”
“But you are. And you’re more. You’re . . .”
He’d never be able to see himself the way she saw him. He could never have her exact perspective. She reached out and took his hand. She needed to touch him even if he pulled away. But he didn’t.
“Humdiddle?” she asked.
He looked as surprised as she felt. Then his eyes crinkled into that Cotton-smile.
“You make me happy, Cotton. Even when I’m not.”
Words weren’t good enough.
She moved closer. Guided him to the toilet seat. She straddled him, flinching because her leg still hurt like hell. But then she nestled in. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he pulled her closer. She traced his eyebrows, his nose, his