Page 6 of Something Like Sugar (Pine Forest Something #2)

SHANA

S ingle, twenty-eight-year-old female, active build, searching for…an experimental study-buddy with benefits?”

Ugh, No!

I scrub my hand down my face and scrunch my nose at my laptop screen, deleting basically my entire profile.

For the fifth time this morning.

I huff out a frustrated breath and tap my fingers to the keys once more, determined to get it right. If I can’t even come up with a single selling point for my dating profile, then what chance do I have actually dating someone? Especially when I’ll have to do things like talk to them.

My throat gets dry even thinking about it. Opening my mind to a stranger? And if just that makes me uneasy, how the heck am I gonna open my legs to one?

“No one will ever have the right forearm.”

“That’s random,” the voice from my fantasies says. My head whips up, cheeks so red I can feel them without even seeing my face.

“I didn’t—well, I…um,” I mumble, my breath quickening with each second that falls upon us in the land of Dustin’s Irises, the only thing I can concentrate on. Because it certainly isn’t on making words flow from my mouth.

“Are you all right, Shay?”

My heart does a jig as his tongue brushes along his lips, taunting me with the heat he exudes merely forming sentences.

Saying my nickname.

“Shay?” He touches my arm, and it’s everything.

Everything I remember, and so much more.

In all the years that I’ve known Dustin Campbell, all the moments I’ve stood feet away from him, sharing oxygen, space, time…I’ve never felt something like the zap of energy I feel when his hand cups my cheek, and eyes that shine like jade bore into mine.

Something wild takes over inside of me, and even though I hate myself for it after what I proclaimed, alone in my room with that stupid plant, I press my lips to his.

For the second time in my life.

FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

My lips are dry. I mush them together as I read the instructions on the back of the cardboard box.

The outhouse at Pine Lake is situated at the end of the long gravel road, about a mile from the campsites, nestled in an alcove of evergreens and willows.

Today, I’m happy about the seclusion. It usually creeps me out being here by myself, especially if it’s for a nighttime trip to pee. The sounds that happen out here when the sun goes down don’t necessarily feel friendly.

Me and camping in general aren’t friendly with each other, but here I am, like everyone else’s family for the summer.

Only, this is the first year it’s just me and Dad.

And isn’t it fitting that my body decides to choose this year, three years later than all my friends, to finally shed the linings of my uterus?

“Yep, that’s right, Mom, I finally got my period.” I kick at the gravel beneath me, scanning my eyes up to instruction number two on the tampons I found in Devyn’s cabin.

My eyes widen.

This box contains a variety, including—but not limited to—light, super plus, and ultra. My brows pinch together as I hold up the largest one and read the chart. “Eighteen grams!? Am I going to bleed eighteen grams today?”

Oh, God .

I slide down the outhouse wall and land on the gravel beneath me with a thump. It doesn’t help my bleeding situation, and as I stand and twist, a bright red stain blooms against my white shorts.

“That’s a bit extreme.”

I jump at the voice, my heart shattering into tiny, embarrassing pieces and digging into every existing crevice of my being, when I recognize it as Dustin’s.

“Saw you sneaking from Dev’s room this morning. Have you been crying?” His eyes shift to the instruction pamphlet dangling from my other hand, and he rubs the back of his neck. We stand in awkward silence for what feels like an eternity before he takes pity on me and nods to the box.

“I-If it’s your first time,” he avoids my eyes. “You could try the smallest size and check it after your swim… assuming that’s where you were headed.”

I literally cannot move. I’ve read about momentary traumatic paralysis that can lead to one entering a catatonic state, trapped inside their minds forever.

“If not, uh…I think my sister has pads . Shana?”

Yep. This could be that.

“But you can’t talk if you’re catatonic.”

That’s all I manage to say, because my stupid brain doesn’t know how to behave when it’s not making me plié and just lets random thoughts slip out of my mouth as it pleases.

To the boy I’m in love with.

The boy I didn’t think knew I existed apart from his sister.

The boy who just explained tampon sizes to me.

He bites his bottom lip, toying with a piercing he placed there against his mother’s wishes, and a frenzied energy kicks up in my belly.

A wild, wisp of a thrill dances in my soul.

I watch him watch me, too in my head to move, but also unwilling, if that means his eyes remain on me a fraction longer.

“You’re funny, Shana Holiday.”

“Funny? What’s funny about your best friend’s brother explaining tampon sizes to you in the middle of the forest while you bleed all over the pine needles and probably ants and things I crunched beneath my butt just now?

” I gesture to my backside before I can take in what I’m doing, but as soon as it hits me, my face goes as red as my shorts have become.

I dash into the rickety wooden stall and slam the door behind me.

It swings and hits me. So, there’s that. And as my forehead pulses in pain, I shove the stupid hook lock into the metal loopy thing— that barely seems close enough to reach, and even though I can hear him snickering, I can also hear him holding back.

Which is sweet, even if it is the most mortifying moment of my life

“Hey.” He knocks.

I say nothing, because I’ve reverted to a deceptive animalistic state and pretending I’m dead or invisible is preferable to whatever this is.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird. You just seemed like you needed help, and I’m not gonna let you hide in the bathhouse all day, Shana.”

I do not answer. I’m still dead.

The gravel shu?es outside the door, and I think my best friend’s brother has finally left me alone to die in solitude, but bright blue swim trunks come sailing over the outhouse door.

“Did you take off your shorts?” My throat goes dry at the thought of Dustin Campbell’s naked body outside of this very thin slab of wood they call a door.

He laughs. “I had basketball shorts underneath.”

I frown at the blue trunks, not at all because he’s not truly naked. Probably more because these are going to be huge on me, him being a muscly high school rodeo god that I’m not at all upset I won’t see a less-clothed version of when this door opens.

Birthday suit or not, my heart sashays at his kindness, grateful I won’t have to trek back up the hill with Aunt Flo stealing the spotlight.

I place the shorts on the sink as I lower myself down and go back to guesstimating how many grams of blood loss I’ll have today.

More than ever, I miss my mother.

I could have asked Devyn about tampons and such if she hadn’t run off with Hunter at the crack of dawn, panting like an obsessed puppy. It’s gross, honestly. Even if you do like someone, do you have to like them that much?

I think about what Dustin said, trying the light size first. It’s smart, all things considered. And after looking at that horrifying picture of the tampon expansion capabilities on the instruction pamphlet, I’m starting to think that light is the least scary option.

It’s awkward inserting it, but I think I have it where it’s supposed to go, so I stand and tug on the shorts my all-time crush just lent me, tightening the draw strings as far as I can.

They hang low on my hips, exposing the ties of my purple tankini.

Dad won’t let me wear a two-piece like everyone else my age. God forbid someone see my belly button.

He’s worried he’ll be alone when I grow up.

I share the sentiment.

Mortification minimally lessened in my new suit, I swing the door open to find Dustin lazing under a willow, head propped on his arms with one knee up, staring at the tendrils of branches that sway beneath the canopy.

He’s so beautiful you’d think he was part of the landscape, lost in the movement around him. I’m staring before I remember the door swings…loudly, and the creak brings his attention back to present.

The wind picks up, kissing my bare hipbones, and I shiver as Dustin’s eyes drop from my face to the purple bows at my hips.

“You look good in board shorts. A vision.”

He winks, a second of a moment, but it’s all it takes for me to liquify.

“I, uh, thank you.”

I can’t seem to get words right when I’m around a guy I like. But it’s silly. It’s not like I have a serious shot with this one, anyhow. He may be flirting, but he’s two years older than me, hates his sister, and by the rules of science, also hates me.

Right?

But he helped me in a way my best friend wasn’t even aware I needed.

“How do you know all that about…”

“Periods?” His lips twist, and that riles me up.

“Dustin Campbell, are you smiling about this?”

His grin widens, shoulders shaking as he flicks his tongue over his lip ring.

He leaves it there.

To play with.

My brain can’t stop thinking about his tongue to send breathing signals to my lungs, and I take in a sudden gust of air that I release on an outraged exhale.

“Am I missing something? What part of leaking gross bodily fluids on your favorite pair of dance shorts, having to practically burglarize your best friend’s cabin for feminine hygiene products you don’t even know how to use, then having one of the cutest guys you know encouraging you to shove a tiny cotton umbrella inside of you, is funny? ”

I take a breath.

And then I die internally.

Dustin Campbell grins at me.

Just grins.

“Please take pity on me and forget this ever happened?” I cross my arms over my chest and pout down at the Dustin-shorts that cover up my blood-stained bathing suit bottoms, but his fingers find my chin and lift until our eyes meet.

My entire body stills as I hold my breath, unwilling to let the air we’re sharing escape my lungs.

It’s the closest we might ever be.

“Don’t worry, Shana. It’s fine.”

Relief floods me.

“Thanks, Dustin. You have no idea how—”

“As long as you give me intel on my sister.”

My cheeks heat again as he drops his hand.

“Is she into Hunter?”

Most everyone knows she likes Hunter. Even Hunter knows she likes Hunter.

I nod.

“That’s why they keep ditching me. Well, you and me, I guess.” He shakes his head. “They’re just too chicken-shit to tell me. I don’t even care, ya know? He’s my best friend. Better him than the other creeps in town. I just want the truth. We’ve never had secrets, until now.”

“You know, you’re a good brother. She likes Hunter because of you. You showed her what good men look like, even…” I swallow, apprehensive at first, but I’ve known this family my whole life, so I say what my best friend’s brother needs to hear, “even when your dad makes that hard.”

“Thanks, Shay.” He says my nickname for the second time in a few minutes, and this time around I can’t ignore how good it sounds falling from his silver-ringed lips. “So,” he nudges me with his shoulder, “tell me more about this ‘cutest guy you know’ thing?”

“You said you weren’t going to bring it up!” I hide my face in my hands, but he lowers them to my lap, brushing back my hair.

“I never said that. I said it was fine.”

And when his lips touch mine, I agree.

It’s fine .