Full Count (The Catcher Series Book 1) (21 page)

             “He thought I was going to do something stupid, so
he jumped in my Jeep to come with me,” I chuckle. Her smile falls into a deeply
concerned frown when I say that.

             “
You weren
’
t,
were you?” she asks in a demanding yet anxious tone. Her eyes soar into me, and
I instantly feel worthy. Worthy of what, I don
’
t know, but
she
’
s looking at me like I matter in this world, to her
world.

             “No. I just had to get out of that town,” I whimper,
letting my arms fall drastically to my sides. I just want to touch her and hold
her and feel that we
’
re past whatever shit we
’
ve had going on because of Chase Morgan and Alex and everyone
else. To combat for the tension in the room, I offer, “Do you want to take the
boat out and go wake-boarding? Your season is over so you don
’
t
have to worry about pitching if your arm is sore after.” I have to get her out
of this cramped room before I do something stupid.

             “Once a coach, always a coach, huh?” she half smiles
at me.

            As she heads for the door, I step in front of her and
say, “I
’
m sorry, B.”

             “Oh, I know,” she replies. Her head drops to avoid
looking directly at me, something we got used to doing over the past few months,
especially with me being her personal pitching coach. The only way we know how
to try to avoid the sparks between us from becoming fireworks is to dodge eye
contact. “We
’
re cool, Sky.”

             “Are we really? Cuz I
’
ll make
it up to you if we
’
re not,” I promise, reaching out to
clasp her hand in mine. She
’
s warm and soothing, and she
grips my hand like she really means it.

            Taking me by surprise, Buzz
creeps up on her tiptoes and places her lips on my cheek and kisses me.
Damn…
she still gets me.
“We
’
re good,
” she
whispers.

            When we
’
re on the boat, I
’
m driving it while Buzz is wake-boarding behind. Everyone else
is seated watching her pull tricks like she
’
s a
professional. The rest of the lake is pretty empty, but as we go around the
lake we see families starting to head down to their docks and join us in the
water. The smile on Buzz
’
s face puts me at ease until I
look back to see where Buzz is in the wake and realize we
’
re
way too close to the high dive dock. Luckily there
’
s no
one else near it in a boat or swimming. I turn the wheel left to avoid it and
slow down, but it
’
s too late. Buzz is too far outside of
the wake and heads straight for the wooden dock attached to the high dive, and
I watch as she sees it coming. It
’
s horrible to witness,
real fear in her eyes for the first time, but our eyes connect for an intense
moment before she
’
s about to hit the water and the dock
simultaneously.

             “Benny! Take the wheel!” I scream, immediately
jumping into the water. I don
’
t even turn the boat off or
make sure he has control of it before I dive in after her. I swim as fast as I
can towards Buzz, and thankfully her lifejacket is keeping her afloat. But she
’
s completely lifeless. I go into full on panic mode but manage
to grab her around the waist and force her face out of the water. She doesn
’
t cough up any water, so I know she isn
’
t
conscious. Her forehead is already bleeding profusely while her eyes are shut
and nothing else is moving the slightest bit. I can
’
t
fathom that she actually looks dead, but she does. My heart rate triples,
fearing that I just killed my best friend. As I hold onto her around the waist
I feel that her bottoms must
’
ve started to slip off from
falling in the water, so I reach with my other hand to make sure they
’
re pulled up to her hipbones.

             “Benny!” I shriek at the top of my lungs. He
’
s driven the boat in a small circle to slow down and come back
to pick us up. “
Help me. I don’
t know if she
’
s
breathing, but she
’
s not conscious.”
Oh my God. Fuck.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

            Laurie and Benny pull Buzz out of the water and onto
the soft bench they were just sitting on in the boat. I prop myself up onto the
edge and climb inside, immediately unbuckling her lifejacket. Before taking it
all the way off I shift the bikini top that luckily didn
’
t
fall completely off of her.

             “Buzz! Please, fucking, God!” I yell, hoping it
’
ll help bring her back to life or that she can at least hear
me. With two fingers I feel for her pulse below her jaw line by her ear, and
for a second I panic that I can
’
t feel it.
She
’
s dead. No, please!
I gently put my ear on her chest
and hear her heartbeat.
Holy shit. Thank God.
But she isn
’
t
breathing. I press on her chest with both of my hands to start performing CPR
and don
’
t even think about hesitating to put my lips on
hers and blow a hearty breath into her mouth. I
’
d rather
be kissing her, but I just want her to be alive. I continue doing CPR on this
girl I can
’
t imagine my life without, and my adrenaline
just keeps pumping through me and won
’
t let me stop until
she
’
s proven she
’
s okay.

            It takes me a minute to notice that Benny has started
the boat again and is already driving back to the cabin. If anyone else says
anything at all, I
’
m totally oblivious. I completely zone
in on Buzz and nothing else. She finally coughs, and I turn her head to the
side so the water she
’
s choking up will fall out of her
mouth. The first thing she does after choking up the water is reach for her
bloody forehead, but I stop her.

             “Hey, no! Don
’
t touch it,” I
command, grabbing her wrist to avoid her irritating the gash. I whip off my wet
t-shirt and wrap it around her head to try to stop the bleeding, and she lets
out a painful groan. There is already so much blood covering her, and it scares
the fuck out of me. Benny pulls the boat next to the dock, and before he can
even tie it up, I scoop Buzz up into my arms and carry her like a baby as I
head up the stairs to the house.

             “Are you awake?” I ask out of breath as I hold my
t-shirt in place on her head. It
’
s already bleeding
through, but I
’
m not sure what else to do. She doesn
’
t answer my question, but I can feel her warm breath on my bare
chest.
God, Buzz, please don
’
t die.
I sprint into the house with her still draped in my
arms and grab my keys on the kitchen counter. Then she starts squirming. On one
hand I
’
m glad if that means she
’
s
conscious, but I
’
m worried I
’
m going
to drop her and slice her head open even more. “Sweetheart, you
’
re
slipping,” I announce, stopping on the front porch. I grab under her butt to
carefully bump her up above my hip bone, and I hear a whimper escape from her. “Hey,
it
’
s gonna be okay. I got you, and I
’
m
going to take care of you.” I sincerely hope I didn
’
t just
fucking lie to her.

            Placing her alone across the backseat of my Jeep
makes me nervous, but no one is quick enough to come with us. I can
’
t wait for them; I
’
m already terrified
Buzz is going to die on the car ride to the hospital. The sooner I get her
there, the better. I have to leave without them. I do buckle her in around her
stomach, but I feel bad because I know it
’
s going to
irritate her bare skin since she
’
s just in a bikini. When
I turn the Jeep on, I immediately put it into drive and head for the main road
while trying to setup the GPS. I luckily get past all the cars lined up for the
neighbor
’
s party Buzz was talking about this morning with
only scraping one of their side mirrors, but I don
’
t
fucking care.

             “Nearest hospital,” I say for the GPS to hear.

             “Nearest hospital is four point two miles away,” the
woman on the GPS informs me.

            As soon as I hit the paved road, I floor it. I blow
two stop signs when I see there
’
s no oncoming traffic, and
thankfully make it through the one stoplight along the way without having to
wait. I pull under the overhang of the Emergency room side of the hospital,
throw the Jeep into Park, and scramble around to the back seat where Buzz lies
completely still.

             “Somebody help!” I scream, reaching to pick her up
again. She
’
s like a bunch of limp noodles strung together.
When I have her chest against me for a second as I carry her, I feel a
heartbeat, but that doesn
’
t settle my nerves one bit. For
all I know, she
’
s going to have severe brain damage, and
it
’
s all my fault.

            I carry her into the emergency room, and yell, “I
need a doctor!” and a bunch of nurses bring over a bed on wheels and help me
lay Buzz down on it.

             “That was quicker than we thought you
’
d
be here,” one of the shorter, older nurses calmly tells me.
Why is she so
calm? My best friend is dying!

             “What do you mean?” I ask, breathing heavily like I
just ran a full marathon.

             “Your friend called and said you were coming about
thirty seconds ago,” she says before wheeling Buzz down the hallway. I watch as
Buzz lies in her stars and stripes swimsuit, totally exposed compared to anyone
else in the emergency room, with my grey blood-stained t-shirt now wrapped too
loosely on her head. I knew it was coming undone while I carried her to my car
at the cabin, but I didn
’
t have time to fix it. I hope
that wasn
’
t a mistake. I look down at myself, shirtless
now with blood smeared all over my hands and chest. Her blood. And I lose it.
For the first time in my entire life, I break down, and I don
’
t
care who fucking sees me. I collapse onto a nearby chair as I catch my head in
my red hands. Life as we know it is over
.

21 Bianca Ferrari

I wake up in a daze. Everything is foggy, and my head feels like
it
’
s on a tilt-a-whirl. I try to lift my hand that
’
s closest to him, but a heavy tube weighs me down. I try to
lift my head and when I
’
m unable to, I drop my eyes down
to my hand to see a tube drilled into it, and my stomach drops. The spinning of
the room has slowed as I determine it
’
s not my bedroom but
a hospital room. The only constant in the room is the guy sitting at my
bedside. I
’
m not entirely sure how well I know him, but the
concern in his eyes tells me he knows me very well. There
’
s
something familiar about him, but I can
’
t touch it. My
memory is drowned, but knowing I
’
m in a hospital bed and
in severe pain is enough to alert me that there was an accident. My forehead
feels prickly like there
’
s needles stuck in it, and I want
to feel it with my hand, but my arm is too heavy to lift. I know there
’
s something wrong with my appearance by the way this guy is
staring at me.

             “Is there something on my face?” I ask when he doesn
’
t take his eyes off me. He
’
s trying to
look into my eyes, but they keep drifting slightly above to my prickly
forehead. I
’
m not even sure he notices.

             “No, why? Does something hurt?” he scrambles,
sitting forward in his chair.

             “You
’
re looking at me like you
’
re watching your puppy be put to sleep,” I try to smile, but a
shooting pain in my forehead stops me.

             “Wow,” he sighs, and I see his eyes harden. He
’
s really upset from whatever happened. “I guess you did lose
all of your memory.”

            Scrunching my eyebrows in confusion should be easy,
but instead it
’
s a warning to stop moving my face so much.
“Ow!
What do you mean?” I wonder. I guess that makes sense why I don
’
t know who he is to me. Although there
’
s
still something familiar about him.

             “You
’
re terrified of dogs,” he
enlightens me. “You substitute the world bunny for puppy no matter what the
circumstance.” His face is stern, looking like he will never smile again.
What
kind of accident was this?

             “Really?” I lightly chuckle.

             “Yeah, ever since you watched me get bit by one
while trying to save you from it,” he explains. “You were seven and I was
eight.”

             “So you
’
re a grade older than
me,” I thought aloud, trying to start the million-piece puzzle. This is going
to take forever. “You
’
re friends with my brother?” At
least I remember I have a brother and that he
’
s a year
older than me; that
’
s a start.

             “I
’
m better friends with you,” he
announces firmly. He never takes his piercing auburn eyes off me for even a
second, as if at any moment I
’
m going to keel over and
die. A warm sensation fills my chest. He
’
s significant,
whoever he is.

             “Can I ask you something?” I hope. I just want the
magic curse to bring all my memories back to me. I
’
m
hoping the answer to my next question will trigger some.

             “Anything,” he squirms in his chair next to my bed,
eager to hear my voice. His eyebrows lift in anticipation, but everything else
remains serious. I don
’
t know if it
’
s
passion or guilt or a combination of the two, but he feels something deeply for
me.

             “
Were we
… in love?” I blurt
out. I
’
m not even slightly embarrassed to ask him this
even though, as kids, it
’
s a little ridiculous. The way he
’
s memorizing my slightest movements and features, it
’
s as if he thinks he could
’
ve lost the
love of his life. A girl can only hope for a guy to look at her this way, yet
here he is right in front of me. It
’
s unbelievable. Plus I
really have nothing to lose by asking him this laughable question.

             “What would you do if I said yes?” he replies
monotonically.

             “I think I would believe you,” I admit, surprising
him. It
’
s a totally feasible explanation as to why he
’
s looking at me that way, let alone at my bedside in the
hospital. His eyes widen in surprise as he tries to disguise a small grin.

             “Would you give me the opportunity to make you fall
in love with me again?” he wonders with a dull hope in his eyes. Even if I say
yes, I can tell that it won
’
t be the same as it must
’
ve been before.

            Giving him an answer is not even on my mind, his
question now rising above mine on the Absurd Chart. “I
’
m
so sorry that I can
’
t remember,” I apologize as tears
sting my eyes like bees. It
’
s painful to have pretty much
a blank slate in my head but be old enough to know I
’
ve
lived a lot of years of my life already. I only know this because my body is
almost the full length of this bed. I can barely recall a single memory. The
more I look at him, the more familiar he becomes; I know he
’
s
someone from my childhood because he looks just like an older version of a boy
I used to know. Or maybe I’m thinking of the main kid from The Sandlot.

             “It
’
s not your fault, Buzz,” he
tells me, lightly brushing his hand over mine with the IV in it. Surprisingly,
it
’
s comforting despite the plastic tube separating us. 

            Although I feel the sparks flying as he touches me, I
focus more on how he addresses me. “Buzz? Was that my nickname?” I giggle.

             “Sorry, yeah. I
’
ll try to call
you Bianca,” he says releasing his hand and dropping it to his side as
disappointment takes over his face.
No, no, no! Buzz must
’
ve been significant. I can
’
t
just let that go!

             “No it
’
s okay. I like it,” I
assure him. “Can you tell me how that became my nickname?”

            He proceeds to tell me a story about when we were
trick-or-treating as kids where I dressed up as Buzz Lightyear; and the reason
for me being terrified of dogs also sneaks in there again. “You were so scared
that dog was going to bite you, and I was even more scared because I could see
how big the dog
’
s mouth was and your tiny ankle compared
to it. I convinced myself you would have to go the rest of your life with one
foot if I didn
’
t save you. So I tackled you from behind
and the dog bit me instead. You
’
ve called dogs and puppies
‘bunnies
’
ever since,” he rehashes the old memory for me.
Wow
and he was eight when this happened?

             “Were you in love with me back then, too? Cuz it
kinda sounds like it,” I laugh. His cheeks blush a light shade of pink as he
finally fully smiles at me.

             “Skyler!” I hear someone call from the hallway. I
look at the doorway and see someone who appears almost identical to my brother
as a kid, but I know it
’
s not him. He would’ve just walked
right in here to see me. The guy next to me turns his head in response, and
then it clicks.
Skyler. I grew up with him!
He nods at the guy in the
doorway but then turns back towards me.
And that
’
s
Benny, my brother Rex
’
s fake twin.

             “
Were you?
” I repeat.

             “I
’
m not sure I knew what love
was back then, but damn I do now,” he answers passionately.

             “Skyler…” my voice trails off. I watch as his
expression completely falls. I don
’
t want to hurt him, but
I
’
m just so confused and frustrated. “I
’
m
sorry.”

             “Please don
’
t apologize. This
isn
’
t your fault,” he pleads, lowering his head.
Oh, no…
he thinks it was his fault?
Before I can ask what happened to me, he adds, “By
the way, you used to call me Sky. I
’
m not sure I
’
ve ever heard you say my full name until right now.” That
explains his depression a second ago.
Ugh, I
’
m
already failing. I can
’
t do this. I can
’
t.

             “I
’
m sorry,” I cringe, trying
to move ever so slightly beneath the bedsheets. The tubes stop me though.
Ugh,
I’m so uncomfortable. How long do I have to stay in this constricting bed?

            He interrupts my self-pity party by saying, “Please
don
’
t be upset. I
’
ll be here to help
you through this. You
’
re not alone.”

            The overwhelming support from him forces my chest to
tighten as tears fell from my eyes. I have no choice; believing that we loved
each other is so obvious. It
’
s possible that neither of us
shared those feelings with the other, but I can feel that they
’
re
present. Feeling it in my chest but not remembering it in my head is incredibly
mind blowing. Love doesn
’t lie.

            Graciously accepting his offer, I intensify my
attention on our clasped hands. For a moment, I feel safe. Even though I
’
m insanely confused as to who I grew up to be, who he is as a
role in my life, and what
’
s happened to me, I somehow know
that everything will be okay, that he
’
s going to help make
sure of that. “Thank you,” I whimper. “But you don
’
t have
to do that.”

             “What if I want to?” he asks, resting his chin on
top of my hand that
’
s intertwined with his again. Watching
his eyes pour into me sends a sizzling sparkler down my spine.

             “Why would you? I wouldn
’
t,” I
confess, still trying to move underneath the hospital sheets to find a more comfortable
position. I don
’
t even want to be around for my recovery,
so why will Skyler? It
’
s going to be long nights and lots
of feelings of betrayal and forgetfulness and Goddamnit why did I have to just
forget the past decade of my life? How is it possible? I
’
m…
Oh gosh, how old am I? I assume I
’
m a teenager.
“How
old am I?” I blurt out frantically. My heart is racing - I can hear it on the
monitor. The oxygen machine can’t keep up with my panic attack, but Skyler’s
voice remarkably brings me back to a little bit mellower of a state.

             “Fifteen. You
’
ll be sixteen in
September,” he tells me with a worried tremble in his chin. “It
’
s
June; you just finished your freshman year.” Before I can ask him anything else
or even process what he
’
s saying, he shoots up from his
seat and heads for the door. He looks so distraught, like he
’
s
about to go run in traffic. My heart pulls towards him, like there
’
s a magnet in him.

             “Sky… please don
’t leave,
” I
beg, already longing for him to return. I don
’
t want to be
alone. I want someone by my side, someone who really cares about me, and I can
tell that he does. I want him to be next to me even if I can
’
t
remember our backstory.

             “I just need a minute with Benny. I
’
ll
be back,” he assures me with pained eyes. Before he can manage to even fully
exit the room he explodes into tears. I hear him as he turns the corner into
the hallway and Benny actually hugs him, and I realize that this process is
already killing him. Seeing him this upset isn
’
t as bad as
it probably is for him to see me in a hospital bed and completely clueless as
to what
’
s happened in the last ten years of my life. I see
him as a confident, I
’
m-not-going-take-your-shit kind of
guy by the way he made Benny wait until he was ready to leave me, and he
’
s definitely easy on the eyes, but this is going to be a
challenge for both of us.

            A few minutes later Skyler returns to my room. His
legs look almost noodle-like the way he
’
s groggily making
his way over to me. Instead of resuming his seat next to my bed, he sits on the
edge of it next to me. “My offer to help you through this comes with one
condition,” he tells me, lightly grazing his hand over the blanket above my
leg. His touch, even through a layer of fabric, is comforting to me. If only my
entire body didn
’
t feel like a semi truck was weighing me
down I would totally jump him.

             “Okay, what is it?” I wonder, now fully noticing
that the energy between us creates insane chemical reactions. My heart monitor
is showing that my heart rate picked up as soon as he re-entered the room. It’s
a calmer increase than the display during my panic attack. Whatever this
feeling is that he
’
s giving me, I like it.