Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [30]
Smoke began to wisp up from the battery terminals, so I turned off the truck. As I unhooked the jumper cables, Sage quickly bent over to contain a mini avalanche of cans. Her sweater rode up her back, revealing her pale skin and the tops of some bright yellow panties.
My world froze, but unfortunately, my body didn’t. I absentmindedly grabbed the positive clip, and like many wayward teens, was grounded.
When I yelped, Sage jumped up as if she was the one who’d been shocked. Grabbing me by my good arm, she hustled me into the kitchen and thrust my hand under the sink. The ice-cold water caused the electrical burn to hurt worse, but I didn’t let on. Sage didn’t ask if I was okay as she dried the wound.
“Have a seat. I’ll go get you a bandage.”
I made my way into the living room and sat on the couch. There was more evidence of the family’s bizarre decoration style here. A framed print of dogs playing poker. Mismatched furniture and drapes. Various souvenir ashtrays and other knickknacks.
On a table next to me stood a picture frame with a bunch of slots. I leaned over to get a better look. There was a bald, unpleasant-looking man, who must have been Sage’s father. And a woman who must have been her mother because she looked exactly like Tammi. Just as short, too. And there was Tammi in elementary school. And there …
A large hand shot out and slammed the frame down on the table so hard I heard glass crack. I looked up to see Sage towering over me, a look of fury on her face.
“What the hell are you doing snooping in here?” she bellowed.
I was dumbfounded. All I’d done was look at a picture that was out where anyone could see it. “I was just looking …”
For a moment, I thought Sage was going to punch me. Then she calmed down. “Just get out, Logan. My parents will kill me if they find you here.”
I stood to face Sage, but still had to look up. “Find me here doing what? Sitting on the couch talking? Drinking hot chocolate? Helping you with your car trouble? Why is that such a big damn deal, Sage?”
“You wouldn’t understand!” She didn’t say it like a spoiled thirteen-year-old. There was a catch in her voice, something that told me her personal problems were greater than I’d imagined.
“Try me!” I was almost begging.
Sage didn’t answer. She just extended her finger toward the door. I had been dismissed. She needed me when she was in trouble, but God forbid she talk to me. God forbid she let me help her.
I stomped toward the garage door to collect my cables and battery. I fought back an urge to turn the truck’s lights back on and drain the battery again.
“Logan?” I heard Sage call softly. I turned.
She was sitting on the couch, her head hung over her lap. Her body was shaking lightly. I realized she was crying.
“Sage?” I returned to the living room and sat down next to her. She didn’t stop me.
Little wet drops appeared on the legs of her jeans. A sick, sick feeling grew in my gut. My friend was miserable, but she wouldn’t tell me why. Why did girls have such a hard time telling me the truth? First Brenda, not wanting to admit she’d stopped loving me. Now Sage, with whatever secret was torturing her.
“Hey, Sage, c’mon.” Gently, I touched her cheek.
She lifted her face toward me. Tears streamed down her nose, and her eyes were red.
“Logan, I’m scared.”
“Why are you scared, Sage?”
She didn’t answer, just continued to look at me. At a loss, I tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Soon, I was holding her face in my hands.
She didn’t move away when I leaned closer. She didn’t stop me when I put my face level with hers. She didn’t resist when our lips met.
For ten wonderful seconds, we kissed. The world vanished. Sage’s father could barge in at any second, and it wouldn’t matter. All I knew was that the attraction wasn’t one-sided. Sage was kissing back. Hard. I had to brace up my back to stay completely vertical. I felt her mouth open, then immediately clamp shut. Then again. Then it stayed open.
I was aware that