Unraveling (Second Chances) - By Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,24

you go,” he said, handing me a Ziploc bag full of buttery popcorn. Our fingers barely grazed but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re cold,” he commented, having noticed my shiver.

There was no way I could tell him that, no, I wasn’t cold, it was just the affect he had on me, so instead I nodded in agreement.

“I have a sweatshirt in my car. I’ll be right back,” he was gone before I could protest.

I wasn’t really comfortable sitting here by myself with a bunch of strangers, so close to the woods where someone could easily drag me off.

I took a deep breath and told myself that everything would be okay.

In no time, Jared was back and kneeling down beside me.

“Here,” he handed the gray sweatshirt to me. “It’ll be huge on you but it’ll do the job.”

“Thank you, Jared,” I said, slipping the material over my head. It was large enough to fit three of me, but I didn’t mind. It smelled like him, slightly citrusy.

I inhaled the scent, soaking it in and trying to memorize it. I blanched when I heard Jared chuckle.

With reddened cheeks, I peeked at him, but thankfully he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were glued to the movie as he munched on his Doritos.

I silently thanked God that Jared hadn’t noticed. That would have been beyond embarrassing and I would’ve had no reasonable explanation for sniffing his shirt.

I finished the sandwich and started on the popcorn.

I found myself sucked into the movie, absolutely riveted.

When it ended, I wiped away a tear.

“Are you crying?” Jared asked.

“No,” I sniffled.

“You’re totally crying. Why?” he asked, there was no laugh to his voice. He wasn’t mocking me.

“It was just so… beautiful. They don’t make movies like that anymore,” I answered.

Jared leaned back on his elbows and turned to me. “I agree completely. I’m not too macho to admit that. Movies like this…” he paused. “They’re timeless.”

“Exactly,” I whispered.

Everyone around us started packing up the leave.

I was getting ready to stand, when Jared said, “Not yet.”

“Why?” I settled back on the blanket.

Jared stretched out, his shirt riding up a bit, showing off his perfect stomach.

“I want to look at the stars,” he whispered. “Just for a little while. Please?” he begged.

“Okay,” I laid back and looked up at the sky.

“When I was little… my mom… she used to tell me to always look at the sky. She said that the stars held a million wishes. That each one was a promise, a promise of something good,” Jared whispered. “I used to think she was lying. There was too much bad in my life for me to believe in something good. But she was right. No matter how bad things get, you can always find the good, Katy. It’s taken me a long time to realize that, too long, but it’s the truth.”

I turned away from the stars and looked over at Jared. “What happened to you?” I knew from bits and pieces that Jared dropped here and there, that his past wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine.

Jared twisted his head, meeting my gaze. His brown eyes were full of pain.

“I want you to know me, Katy. The real me, not the guy everyone else sees, but the person I am underneath it all. I want to bare myself to you but I’m afraid the truth will make you run from me.”

My breath came out all raspy; once again, Jared had left me completely speechless.

“Why… why would I run?” I finally croaked.

“Because the truth isn’t pretty,” his eyes never wavered from mine.

“It never is,” I whispered.

“I want to make you a deal,” Jared breathed.

“Okay,” I said, hesitantly. “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll tell you about my past, when you tell me about yours. I won’t push you to open up to me, Katy. I’m not like that. I’ll give you time, all the time in the world. But in the meantime, I want you to give me a chance, because I think we could turn out to be something great.”

I swallowed. Finally, I said, “You really like making deals, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “Only with you.”

I took a deep breath and turned away from his thoughtful gaze. I looked up at the thousands of blinking stars.

Minutes past, maybe longer, and neither one of us said a thing. The silence was comfortable and I reveled in it. I was seldom comfortable with the quiet. It let my mind wander to places it shouldn’t. But with Jared… it