Fragile
Page 13
Nate grinned mischievously. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Hardy bristled. He felt his lips tighten into a thin line and he wanted to tell Nate and Cheyenne to get lost, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to turn Miracle off with a ridiculously juvenile display of jealousy. He had no claims on her, after all, no rights to her. And Hardy was pretty sure that’s what bothered him most—that Miracle wasn’t his and his alone.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Cheyenne hissed under her breath.
“Why?” Miracle asked, genuinely baffled. “I mean, it must just be because I’m new, because I can’t imagine anyone being distracted from a date as beautiful as you.”
Hardy’s mouth actually dropped open in shock. How Miracle could be so kind and gracious and complimentary to someone as openly nasty as Cheyenne was beyond him.
Cheyenne frowned. Hardy felt sure she had no idea how to react to Miracle’s benevolence. After several seconds of silent deliberation, she must’ve decided Miracle was up to something. Cheyenne narrowed her eyes on Miracle and then took a smiling Nate by the arm and dragged him away.
Unperturbed, Miracle resumed the obliteration of her feast. Hardy was not as quick to recover. He was staring at her, gape-mouthed, completely awed by her kind nature. After a couple of minutes, Miracle glanced at him.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth and both cheeks.
“No, you don’t have anything on your face,” Hardy assured her gently.
“Then what?”
“I know…I thought…you’re just amazing. That’s all.”
A pale pink stain crept up into Miracle’s cheeks. She cast her eyes down, a bashful grin curving her lips, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention back to her desserts. Hardy watched as she made quick work of the caramel apple, devouring the sweetly coated peel and leaving behind most of the white fleshy apple beneath it.
With a thump, Miracle tossed the rest of the fruit on her pile of trash and then wadded it all up together and went to toss it in the garbage. She came back dusting off her hands. She stopped at the edge of the table, collected her bear and grabbed her cotton candy stick, pushing the plastic-wrap covering down.
“Ferris wheel?” she asked, tearing off a long, wispy strip of pink sugar and stuffing it into her mouth.
Hardy grinned. She grinned.
“Gotta love a woman who can eat like a man and still look like you do.”
Miracle winked and rubbed her still-flat belly. “I’m in training.”
“For what?”
“Before I die, I want to win a hot dog eating contest.”
Hardy knew he should laugh, not because it was utterly ridiculous, but because she was most likely serious. But he couldn’t. Not when she mentioned dying, no matter how casually. If anyone else had made such a statement, he’d have thought nothing of it, but with Miracle, he seemed to be hyper sensitive to the topic of her demise, regardless of how far away it might be.
“I think you’re well on your way to becoming a champion eater,” he quipped, hoping his smile and attempt at levity had adequately concealed his turbulent emotions.
Hardy stood and he and Miracle began making their way slowly through the crowd toward the Ferris wheel. From the corner of his eye, he watched her pinch off tufts of airy sugar between her fingers and then stick them into her mouth, all the while hugging her polar bear and curiously watching the people around her. He wondered what she might be thinking. It seemed that she was always in deep, significant thought, unlike the majority of people he knew. Of course, she had had troubles in her life that most people did not.
“I was so sick during chemo that I swore when I felt like eating again, I’d eat everything I could get my hands on,” she began quietly. Hardy had to lean toward her slightly to make out her words. The ambient noise of the crowded carnival threatened to swallow them up. “One of the first things I ate when I started feeling better was a hot dog. I started with one and it tasted so good, I ended up eating seven.” Hardy watched as she tore off another piece of cotton candy and held it up for inspection before sticking out her tongue and catching the tail to drag it into her mouth. “That’s the day I decided to live every minute of every day like it might be my last.”
Her sentiment hung between them like a dark, depressing fog. Not what she’d said, but what she hadn’t. She was going to live every minute of every day like it might be her last because it might, in fact, very well be. That’s what she meant. Those unspoken words reached in and wound their icy fingers around Hardy’s heart and squeezed.
As if sensing the morose direction his thoughts had taken, Miracle swung her gaze to Hardy and winked playfully. “Race you to the Ferris wheel.”
It took Hardy a moment to switch gears and focus on what she’d said.
“I’m not racing a girl, especially one that just ate half her body weight in fried food.”
“Aww,” Miracle said, distress written all over her beautiful face. “I didn’t realize you were a scaredy cat. I can go extra slow if that’ll make you feel better,” she teased.
“Oh-ho-ho, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Hardy said, lunging for Miracle. Quickly, she darted away, just out of his reach. “Not bad,” he admitted. She was very nimble, even when stuffed with carnival food and burdened with a polar bear.
“I do all right for myself,” she giggled. “Race me?” Miracle’s eyes twinkled. Hardy saw her tongue sneak out at the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly he nearly missed her countdown. “Ready, set, go!”
Miracle took off toward the Ferris wheel, dodging children and adults, strollers and stuffed animals with an agility that belied the enormous meal she’d just eaten. Hardy would’ve been happy to just sit back and watch her antics. He found himself purposely lagging behind, smiling and chuckling the whole way to the ride.
She arrived first, of course, with Hardy not far behind. He saw her raise one arm above her head and dance lightly from foot to foot. He heard her say gruffly, “Yo, Adrian! I did it!”
Hardy laughed.
“Does that make me Apollo? Because I could totally live with abs like that.”
Miracle stilled, arching one brow. “You already have abs like that.”
Hardy felt a goofy smile pull at his lips. She’d obviously taken notice of his body at the beach. He’d always been pleased with his physique—muscular legs and arms, trim waist, ripped stomach, firm pecs—but it had never mattered so much that someone else was equally pleased with it. Until Miracle, that is. Her comment made him ridiculously happy for some reason.
He closed the gap between them, not stopping until he was less than a foot from her. She was a bit winded, but still smiling broadly. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled with life and vitality. His fingers itched to tunnel into her hair. His lips tingled with the desire to be pressed to hers. His body ached to feel the warmth of hers. But he kept his distance, instead bending his head to tear off a bite of her cotton candy.
“Hey,” she said, pulling the candy-coated stick away from his mouth. “Lips off my spoils.”
“I lost to a girl. The least you can do is share your cotton candy.”
She pursed her lips as if considering his logic. “I’m nothing if not a good sport,” she said, returning the sugary cloud to its former position near his face.
Miracle’s eyes dropped to Hardy’s mouth and stayed there. He felt heat rush to his lips, as if he could actually feel her gaze upon them like a physical touch. Slowly, he opened his mouth and snatched a piece of fluff with his tongue, pulling it slowly inside. It dissolved into a puddle of sweetness that was still no rival for the remembered taste of Miracle’s mouth.
Miracle licked her lips as she watched him. Hardy smothered a groan, wishing he could pull her tongue into his mouth at that very moment.
“Are you two in line?”
A man with two small kids had stopped behind Hardy and was peeking around his shoulder. Hardy looked from the man to Miracle and he smiled.
“Yeah, we’re in line.”
Reaching out, he took the cotton candy from Miracle’s hand, laced his fingers through hers and tugged her forward into the short line in front of the Ferris wheel.
CHAPTER NINE
The line moved quickly, much more quickly than Hardy would’ve liked. Miracle left her hand in his and Hardy could’ve stood there all night just holding it. In her silence, he was completely focused on the feel of her small hand enveloped in his—how warm it was, how soft it was, how electricity seemed to jump and tingle up his arm, even at such an innocent contact.
He offered to hold her polar bear. She dared him to touch it. They both laughed.
The rest of the time, Hardy watched Miracle from the corner of his eye. He glanced around occasionally to see what she was looking at, but for the most part, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She watched the people that passed them. She seemed both curious and fascinated. Each time a new batch of carnival-goers would unload from the Ferris wheel, she would smile in what seemed like anticipation and squeeze his hand excitedly. His heart skipped a beat each time she did it.
When it was their turn, Hardy took the polar bear and helped her into the little car. He sat down beside her, situating the stuffed animal on his other side. “You ready?” he asked, knowing what her answer would be. She practically hummed with excitement.
Miracle met his eye. She held his gaze for several seconds before she nodded and smiled widely. For a moment, Hardy wondered if she’d meant she was ready for something else, something like him, but she quickly turned away and the moment was gone. He wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined it into existence just because he wanted it so badly, wanted her so badly.
As the wheel turned and they inched their way toward the top, stopping routinely to let new passengers replace the old ones, Hardy sat back to watch Miracle. She was leaning forward, looking down at the ground. The wind ruffled her hair and blew her delicious scent across his face. When he sat up as well, the car tipped forward, swinging threateningly.
With a squeal, Miracle leaned back, plastering herself against the back of the car. Her eyes were wide when she turned them on Hardy. He realized he’d scared her.
“Sorry. I didn’t do that on purpose.”
Slowly, Miracle’s lips curved into a smile. “Do it again,” she said, cautiously leaning forward once more.
Grinning at her bravado, Hardy leaned quickly back in his seat and then forward, causing their cart to swing again. Miracle half squealed-half laughed, clearly thrilled. Hardy felt the sound in his chest like a living organism.
When the Ferris wheel had picked up all its riders, it began its slow circular movement, lifting them high off the ground and then dropping them low. Miracle leaned forward and looked at everything, noticed everything. Hardy sat back, arm draped across the seat behind her, and ignored everything else in favor of observing Miracle.
She asked him the occasional question, but otherwise remained quiet as she took it all in. Hardy was simply mesmerized by her, a state he found himself in more and more often of late. When the Ferris wheel took them for their third ascent, Miracle leaned back in her seat, her body fitting beneath the crook of his arm as though it was designed to do just that. Hardy quelled the urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her in closer. He held his breath when she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, gazing contentedly up at the clear night sky.
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful night,” she said quietly.
Hardy had to work to pull his eyes away from Miracle, but he did it, looking above them at what had so thoroughly impressed her.
At first, the sky looked exactly as it did on any other night—dark with a smattering of stars, like he imagined the night sky looked almost anywhere in the world. Before he turned his attention back to Miracle, however, he tried to view the wide expanse as she saw it, to see what she was seeing. It was then that Hardy realized the sky wasn’t just dark; it was the color of the darkest blue velvet, rich and luxurious. The stars twinkled against it like so many sparkling diamonds and the perfectly-round moon hung in their midst like a shining silver medallion. It was the same night sky he’d seen all his life, but tonight it was breathtaking.
When Hardy finally turned his attention back to Miracle, it was she who was watching him this time. Her eyes glowed more brightly than the moon and a sweet smile graced her lips.
Hardy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was awestruck by her—by her beauty, by her vision, by her incredible soul.
He’d never experienced another person before. But he experienced Miracle. He felt her as though her presence were diaphanous fingers that wrapped him in warmth, weaving their way around his heart like a cocoon. He knew he’d never be the same without her.
Her hair rustled against his shirt when she nodded. “I know,” she said enigmatically.
Hardy knew she was probably referring to the sky—like I know, it’s beautiful!—but he couldn’t help wondering if he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and she knew what he was thinking. Even if that was the case, he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop what he was feeling. He knew that his life would never be complete, that he would never feel whole again if he had to live without Miracle.
She turned her face back toward the sky and Hardy’s mind spun as the Ferris wheel edged them toward the ground.
How can I feel this way about someone I just met? This can’t be real. I’m in highschool, for godssake! Besides, I don’t have room for her. She doesn’t fit into my life, into my future.
Hardy bristled. He felt his lips tighten into a thin line and he wanted to tell Nate and Cheyenne to get lost, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to turn Miracle off with a ridiculously juvenile display of jealousy. He had no claims on her, after all, no rights to her. And Hardy was pretty sure that’s what bothered him most—that Miracle wasn’t his and his alone.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Cheyenne hissed under her breath.
“Why?” Miracle asked, genuinely baffled. “I mean, it must just be because I’m new, because I can’t imagine anyone being distracted from a date as beautiful as you.”
Hardy’s mouth actually dropped open in shock. How Miracle could be so kind and gracious and complimentary to someone as openly nasty as Cheyenne was beyond him.
Cheyenne frowned. Hardy felt sure she had no idea how to react to Miracle’s benevolence. After several seconds of silent deliberation, she must’ve decided Miracle was up to something. Cheyenne narrowed her eyes on Miracle and then took a smiling Nate by the arm and dragged him away.
Unperturbed, Miracle resumed the obliteration of her feast. Hardy was not as quick to recover. He was staring at her, gape-mouthed, completely awed by her kind nature. After a couple of minutes, Miracle glanced at him.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth and both cheeks.
“No, you don’t have anything on your face,” Hardy assured her gently.
“Then what?”
“I know…I thought…you’re just amazing. That’s all.”
A pale pink stain crept up into Miracle’s cheeks. She cast her eyes down, a bashful grin curving her lips, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention back to her desserts. Hardy watched as she made quick work of the caramel apple, devouring the sweetly coated peel and leaving behind most of the white fleshy apple beneath it.
With a thump, Miracle tossed the rest of the fruit on her pile of trash and then wadded it all up together and went to toss it in the garbage. She came back dusting off her hands. She stopped at the edge of the table, collected her bear and grabbed her cotton candy stick, pushing the plastic-wrap covering down.
“Ferris wheel?” she asked, tearing off a long, wispy strip of pink sugar and stuffing it into her mouth.
Hardy grinned. She grinned.
“Gotta love a woman who can eat like a man and still look like you do.”
Miracle winked and rubbed her still-flat belly. “I’m in training.”
“For what?”
“Before I die, I want to win a hot dog eating contest.”
Hardy knew he should laugh, not because it was utterly ridiculous, but because she was most likely serious. But he couldn’t. Not when she mentioned dying, no matter how casually. If anyone else had made such a statement, he’d have thought nothing of it, but with Miracle, he seemed to be hyper sensitive to the topic of her demise, regardless of how far away it might be.
“I think you’re well on your way to becoming a champion eater,” he quipped, hoping his smile and attempt at levity had adequately concealed his turbulent emotions.
Hardy stood and he and Miracle began making their way slowly through the crowd toward the Ferris wheel. From the corner of his eye, he watched her pinch off tufts of airy sugar between her fingers and then stick them into her mouth, all the while hugging her polar bear and curiously watching the people around her. He wondered what she might be thinking. It seemed that she was always in deep, significant thought, unlike the majority of people he knew. Of course, she had had troubles in her life that most people did not.
“I was so sick during chemo that I swore when I felt like eating again, I’d eat everything I could get my hands on,” she began quietly. Hardy had to lean toward her slightly to make out her words. The ambient noise of the crowded carnival threatened to swallow them up. “One of the first things I ate when I started feeling better was a hot dog. I started with one and it tasted so good, I ended up eating seven.” Hardy watched as she tore off another piece of cotton candy and held it up for inspection before sticking out her tongue and catching the tail to drag it into her mouth. “That’s the day I decided to live every minute of every day like it might be my last.”
Her sentiment hung between them like a dark, depressing fog. Not what she’d said, but what she hadn’t. She was going to live every minute of every day like it might be her last because it might, in fact, very well be. That’s what she meant. Those unspoken words reached in and wound their icy fingers around Hardy’s heart and squeezed.
As if sensing the morose direction his thoughts had taken, Miracle swung her gaze to Hardy and winked playfully. “Race you to the Ferris wheel.”
It took Hardy a moment to switch gears and focus on what she’d said.
“I’m not racing a girl, especially one that just ate half her body weight in fried food.”
“Aww,” Miracle said, distress written all over her beautiful face. “I didn’t realize you were a scaredy cat. I can go extra slow if that’ll make you feel better,” she teased.
“Oh-ho-ho, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Hardy said, lunging for Miracle. Quickly, she darted away, just out of his reach. “Not bad,” he admitted. She was very nimble, even when stuffed with carnival food and burdened with a polar bear.
“I do all right for myself,” she giggled. “Race me?” Miracle’s eyes twinkled. Hardy saw her tongue sneak out at the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly he nearly missed her countdown. “Ready, set, go!”
Miracle took off toward the Ferris wheel, dodging children and adults, strollers and stuffed animals with an agility that belied the enormous meal she’d just eaten. Hardy would’ve been happy to just sit back and watch her antics. He found himself purposely lagging behind, smiling and chuckling the whole way to the ride.
She arrived first, of course, with Hardy not far behind. He saw her raise one arm above her head and dance lightly from foot to foot. He heard her say gruffly, “Yo, Adrian! I did it!”
Hardy laughed.
“Does that make me Apollo? Because I could totally live with abs like that.”
Miracle stilled, arching one brow. “You already have abs like that.”
Hardy felt a goofy smile pull at his lips. She’d obviously taken notice of his body at the beach. He’d always been pleased with his physique—muscular legs and arms, trim waist, ripped stomach, firm pecs—but it had never mattered so much that someone else was equally pleased with it. Until Miracle, that is. Her comment made him ridiculously happy for some reason.
He closed the gap between them, not stopping until he was less than a foot from her. She was a bit winded, but still smiling broadly. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled with life and vitality. His fingers itched to tunnel into her hair. His lips tingled with the desire to be pressed to hers. His body ached to feel the warmth of hers. But he kept his distance, instead bending his head to tear off a bite of her cotton candy.
“Hey,” she said, pulling the candy-coated stick away from his mouth. “Lips off my spoils.”
“I lost to a girl. The least you can do is share your cotton candy.”
She pursed her lips as if considering his logic. “I’m nothing if not a good sport,” she said, returning the sugary cloud to its former position near his face.
Miracle’s eyes dropped to Hardy’s mouth and stayed there. He felt heat rush to his lips, as if he could actually feel her gaze upon them like a physical touch. Slowly, he opened his mouth and snatched a piece of fluff with his tongue, pulling it slowly inside. It dissolved into a puddle of sweetness that was still no rival for the remembered taste of Miracle’s mouth.
Miracle licked her lips as she watched him. Hardy smothered a groan, wishing he could pull her tongue into his mouth at that very moment.
“Are you two in line?”
A man with two small kids had stopped behind Hardy and was peeking around his shoulder. Hardy looked from the man to Miracle and he smiled.
“Yeah, we’re in line.”
Reaching out, he took the cotton candy from Miracle’s hand, laced his fingers through hers and tugged her forward into the short line in front of the Ferris wheel.
CHAPTER NINE
The line moved quickly, much more quickly than Hardy would’ve liked. Miracle left her hand in his and Hardy could’ve stood there all night just holding it. In her silence, he was completely focused on the feel of her small hand enveloped in his—how warm it was, how soft it was, how electricity seemed to jump and tingle up his arm, even at such an innocent contact.
He offered to hold her polar bear. She dared him to touch it. They both laughed.
The rest of the time, Hardy watched Miracle from the corner of his eye. He glanced around occasionally to see what she was looking at, but for the most part, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She watched the people that passed them. She seemed both curious and fascinated. Each time a new batch of carnival-goers would unload from the Ferris wheel, she would smile in what seemed like anticipation and squeeze his hand excitedly. His heart skipped a beat each time she did it.
When it was their turn, Hardy took the polar bear and helped her into the little car. He sat down beside her, situating the stuffed animal on his other side. “You ready?” he asked, knowing what her answer would be. She practically hummed with excitement.
Miracle met his eye. She held his gaze for several seconds before she nodded and smiled widely. For a moment, Hardy wondered if she’d meant she was ready for something else, something like him, but she quickly turned away and the moment was gone. He wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined it into existence just because he wanted it so badly, wanted her so badly.
As the wheel turned and they inched their way toward the top, stopping routinely to let new passengers replace the old ones, Hardy sat back to watch Miracle. She was leaning forward, looking down at the ground. The wind ruffled her hair and blew her delicious scent across his face. When he sat up as well, the car tipped forward, swinging threateningly.
With a squeal, Miracle leaned back, plastering herself against the back of the car. Her eyes were wide when she turned them on Hardy. He realized he’d scared her.
“Sorry. I didn’t do that on purpose.”
Slowly, Miracle’s lips curved into a smile. “Do it again,” she said, cautiously leaning forward once more.
Grinning at her bravado, Hardy leaned quickly back in his seat and then forward, causing their cart to swing again. Miracle half squealed-half laughed, clearly thrilled. Hardy felt the sound in his chest like a living organism.
When the Ferris wheel had picked up all its riders, it began its slow circular movement, lifting them high off the ground and then dropping them low. Miracle leaned forward and looked at everything, noticed everything. Hardy sat back, arm draped across the seat behind her, and ignored everything else in favor of observing Miracle.
She asked him the occasional question, but otherwise remained quiet as she took it all in. Hardy was simply mesmerized by her, a state he found himself in more and more often of late. When the Ferris wheel took them for their third ascent, Miracle leaned back in her seat, her body fitting beneath the crook of his arm as though it was designed to do just that. Hardy quelled the urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her in closer. He held his breath when she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, gazing contentedly up at the clear night sky.
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful night,” she said quietly.
Hardy had to work to pull his eyes away from Miracle, but he did it, looking above them at what had so thoroughly impressed her.
At first, the sky looked exactly as it did on any other night—dark with a smattering of stars, like he imagined the night sky looked almost anywhere in the world. Before he turned his attention back to Miracle, however, he tried to view the wide expanse as she saw it, to see what she was seeing. It was then that Hardy realized the sky wasn’t just dark; it was the color of the darkest blue velvet, rich and luxurious. The stars twinkled against it like so many sparkling diamonds and the perfectly-round moon hung in their midst like a shining silver medallion. It was the same night sky he’d seen all his life, but tonight it was breathtaking.
When Hardy finally turned his attention back to Miracle, it was she who was watching him this time. Her eyes glowed more brightly than the moon and a sweet smile graced her lips.
Hardy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was awestruck by her—by her beauty, by her vision, by her incredible soul.
He’d never experienced another person before. But he experienced Miracle. He felt her as though her presence were diaphanous fingers that wrapped him in warmth, weaving their way around his heart like a cocoon. He knew he’d never be the same without her.
Her hair rustled against his shirt when she nodded. “I know,” she said enigmatically.
Hardy knew she was probably referring to the sky—like I know, it’s beautiful!—but he couldn’t help wondering if he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and she knew what he was thinking. Even if that was the case, he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop what he was feeling. He knew that his life would never be complete, that he would never feel whole again if he had to live without Miracle.
She turned her face back toward the sky and Hardy’s mind spun as the Ferris wheel edged them toward the ground.
How can I feel this way about someone I just met? This can’t be real. I’m in highschool, for godssake! Besides, I don’t have room for her. She doesn’t fit into my life, into my future.
