Trouble From the Start Read online

  Didn’t matter. It wasn’t like we’d be crossing paths in the future.

  I needed to stop thinking about her, figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of the night. I could always go back to the party, but it had been kind of boring, and none of the girls there had really caught my interest.

  Except for Avery. And here I was thinking about her again. Her long, willowy body, the way her head fit in the crook of my shoulder, the way I could slip my arm around her without having to hunch over. I liked that she was tall. I liked the way her blond hair caught the moonlight. There hadn’t been enough light for me to see the color of her eyes, and I’d never paid particular attention before. But I’d still seen the irritation in them when I first approached her—and the sparkle when she climbed off my bike.

  The sparkle made me want to kiss her. I almost had.

  What a mistake that would have been.

  Chapter 3

  AVERY

  The next morning, when I woke up, before I even opened my eyes, I felt like I was being tossed by great rolling waves. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, but the sensation wouldn’t stop. Taking a deep breath, trying to center myself, I realized it was only my bed moving. I groaned. My head was way too fuzzy and my stomach could not handle this movement.

  “Hey, squirt, stop it,” I ordered, glaring at Tyler. His dark hair did a couple of extra flops into his eyes even after he quit bouncing next to me on the mattress.

  “Time for lunch.” He gave me a big-toothed grin. “Dad’s grilling.”

  I shifted slowly until I was sitting up and scrubbed my hands over my face. “Shouldn’t you be out there helping him?”

  He jerked his head up and down, but his big brown eyes were sparkling with mischief. “His summer project is here.”

  Every summer my dad fostered an at-risk kid, helped them to see that life could be better than what they’d had. It was how I ended up with a brother eleven years younger than me. Tyler’s mom had been into drugs. He lived with us a couple of summers ago, stole our hearts, and my parents adopted him. Usually, though, we only served as a halfway house.

  “Girl or boy?” I asked, because I could tell Tyler was bursting with the news. Usually Dad waited until school was out. Maybe he wanted this kid to see my graduation as an example of what one could do. Who knew? All I really knew was that I felt too rotten to make nice to some little kid I’d never met before.

  “Boy.” Tyler beamed. Then he scrunched up his face. “Doesn’t say much, though.”

  “You were quiet when you first came here,” I reminded him. “He just needs to get used to being around us.”

  He shrugged his bony shoulders. “I guess.”

  Reaching out, I ruffled his dark hair. “It’ll be okay. Now I need to get dressed.”

  “’Kay.” He slid off the bed and grumbled, “I don’t think he’ll play with me.”

  “He may have never had toys or friends. We’ll teach him.”

  He wandered out of the room and, as usual, failed to close my door. As gingerly as possible, I clambered out of bed, shut the door, and headed into the bathroom that separated my bedroom from Tyler’s. Briefly I wondered why anyone thought drinking alcohol was a good idea.

  I turned on the shower, stood under a stream of hot water, and let it wash away the cobwebs. As I began to feel like maybe I wasn’t going to die, my thoughts drifted to my last moments with Fletcher. Did he ever get within a foot of a girl and not kiss her? So why hadn’t he kissed me?

  Pressing my forehead to the tile, I wondered if I could be any more superficial—wanting a kiss just so I could say that I had one that wasn’t prompted by a dumb game. But it had been more than that. For a few seconds after I got off his bike, it seemed a connection was forming between us. I really thought he was going to kiss me, that he wanted to kiss me. To my utter mortification, I had wanted him to kiss me. But why would he when I’d barfed in front of him?

  I had to have misread him. He probably had no desire whatsoever to kiss me. I could only hope that I hadn’t stood there looking all doe-eyed, like I was waiting for him to make a move. Thank goodness, I would probably never ever cross paths with him again. We had no classes together, and we had only one more week of school. The odds were in my favor that I’d never see him again.

  Last night could be forgotten, would never come back to bite me in the butt.

  I got out of the shower. After drying off quickly and pulling my blond hair back into a ponytail, I slipped into white shorts, a purple tank top, and sparkly flip-flops. Then I headed downstairs.

  I always looked forward to Dad’s summer projects. In his line of work, he encountered a lot of kids with less than stellar parents. Even so, being taken away from your family and familiar surroundings—no matter how much they might suck—wasn’t an easy thing. The unknown was scary, so we worked to make the kids feel secure. Usually they were preteen. Dad would get them on a baseball team. Mom would take them clothes shopping. Tyler taught them to rock at video games. I took them to museums and parks, read to them, and offered them a sisterly ear whenever they needed it.

  I hit the entryway and bounced through the dining room into the bright yellow kitchen. Sunlight streamed in through the windows. I could hear Mom’s laughter outside. I opened the door that led onto the back deck and staggered to a stop—

  Stared up into familiar brown eyes, although one was decorated with a mosaic of dark bruises that hadn’t been there when he’d given me a ride home the night before.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, totally confused. He’d ridden off—without giving me a kiss. I was never supposed to see him again. Ever.

  “Fletcher’s staying with us this summer,” Dad said.

  All the breath left my body. Fletcher Thomas was Dad’s project?

  How had that happened? If he were a little kid, I would smile, hug him, and tell him that I was glad he was here. But this was Fletcher. A guy who had seen me at my worst. A guy who attracted trouble.

  Keeping his eyes on me but shifting his stance, Fletcher looked as though he didn’t know what to say any more than I did. My parents were studying us, and Tyler was looking up at me with expectation. I was supposed to be setting an example for him, so I smiled brightly and said, “It’s . . . great to have you here.”

  His eyes never leaving mine, he said, “Thanks.”

  But what I heard was, “Liar.”

  Mom touched his shoulder. “Why don’t you relax by the pool while we finish getting lunch ready?”

  He shifted his gaze to her. “Thanks.”

  That seemed to be the extent of his vocabulary this morning. Not that I blamed him. I felt like I had dropped into an alternate universe. He probably felt the same. He gave me one last glance before heading for the pool. Mom took Tyler into the kitchen, since it was his job to help her get plates and condiments together. Dad wandered over to his grill. I followed Dad.

  “He’s eighteen,” I told him as the burgers sizzled while he turned them, the smoke rising to tease my nostrils. “Legally an adult. Not your usual summer project.”

  “He’s not a project,” Dad said. “We’re just providing him with an opportunity to get his act together. He’ll stay in the FROG.”

  The FROG was our nickname for the apartment over the garage or, as Dad had designated it, Free Room Over Garage. Visiting guests usually stayed there, so they could have a little more privacy.

  I glanced over to where Fletcher was sprawled on a lounge chair by the pool. Even though he looked relaxed, I could see his muscles were bunched with tension.

  “How well do you know him?” Dad asked.

  I jerked my attention back to blue eyes the same shade as mine. I didn’t want to reveal how well I’d gotten to know him last night, because I was pretty sure that Dad wouldn’t approve of how Fletcher’s bringing me home had come about. I shrugged. “We go to the same school, don’t have the same classes. I’ve seen him around. What did you arrest him for?”

  “We’re not g