Fusion (Explosive #5) Read online

  Still, I know I truly am.

  The day Sierra Sullivan came running down the sand in her cartoon T-shirt and high ponytail was the day my whole life changed.

  Sure, it’d only been eight years long, but hey—those were some good eight years. Little did I know that the next eight, the next eight, and the next eight would be even better. Don’t mind my math.

  Anyways, it happened on a Thursday. That little tidbit may seem insignificant, but that’s the point. I remember every single detail with vivid clarity, as if it were yesterday. The summer when I was eight years old, I met the girl I was going to spend my life with. Did I know it at the time? Of course not. I was eight. I had no idea my life was about to change. It’s not like fireworks exploded or sparks flew the first time our fingers touched. We were just kids. But, even at such a young age, one look at the pretty, little blonde next door and I knew she was something special.

  Don’t ask me how. I just did.

  If I’d have known what was going to come our way, I’d have kissed her right then and there. But, like most young boys, I thought kisses were gross—until they weren’t. So I declared us the best of friends—until that was no longer enough. Until the thought of another day going by without her knowing how much I loved her was no longer an option.

  You may think you know our story. And, in truth, you probably do. Boy meets girl. Boy chases girl. Boy and girl both like Michelangelo—the turtle, not the painter— and Michael Jordan and have a fear of sharks. Boy declares girl is his best friend. For years, boy and girl stay friends until girl grows boobs and boy grows…well, you know.

  Boy loves girl. Boy nearly loses girl. Boy goes to the ends of the Earth—or, in our case, Ohio—to keep the girl. Boy marries girl, and they live happily ever after.

  The end.

  Sounds like a completely ordinary story, right? Well, that’s because it is.

  But those little snippets are only the tip of the iceberg.

  Sierra and I have had our share of laughs—more than the average couple, I presume. We’ve also had our share of tears. Surprising, right? To me, too. But the truth is, for all the light that’s shone on our relationship, there’s been dark. It hasn’t been plentiful—thank God—but just enough to where we weren’t sure we’d come out on the other side of the tunnel intact.

  How did we?

  Stick around and find out. I’m about to give you every gory, hysterical, down-and-dirty detail. Okay, so maybe not the dirty stuff.

  Then again…

  Why the hell not? That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Knowing every single down-and-dirty detail? But don’t go getting any ideas about my wife. And no mental pictures, please. As much as I think every single male on the planet should be blessed to see Sierra Sullivan Banks completely nude, that body is for my eyes only.

  As far as my own body goes?

  She completely owns me. Sorry, ladies. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.

  Ready for a blast to the past? Time to party like it’s 1999.

  Actually, we’ll start a little bit earlier than that.

  You already know the destination. Don’t you want to come along for the ride?

  Summer of 1992

  IT WAS THE WEIRDEST thing I’d ever experienced in my short life. Of course, at eight years old, I hadn’t done much more than play outside and go to school. But, still, I couldn’t remember a time my stomach had ever felt that way. It was tight, but not quite achy. Unsettled, maybe, but not exactly sickened. What the heck was wrong with me? My face was warm, my mouth dry. I didn’t get it.

  Why was I feeling this way, you ask?

  Easy.

  It was all because of a girl.

  Sierra Sullivan. My new next-door neighbor and the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.

  It was the last week of summer vacation before school began. My best friend, Chris, and I were skateboarding in our neighborhood when a big moving truck pulled onto the street. We stopped and watched as it turned into the driveway next to my house, where my friend Shawn had lived. His dad was in the Air Force, and he’d moved away to Nebraska or somewhere weird like that earlier that year. The house had been empty for a while.

  “New neighbors?” Chris asked.

  I shrugged. “Yeah. A big van showed up over the weekend, and there have been lights on in the house. I haven’t seen anyone though.”

  “Cool,” he said, and that was that.

  We spent the next few hours trying to do tricks—and mostly failing. When my twin sister, Jenna, came running down the street, we made our way to the gazebo on the private neighborhood beach, ready to cool off from the hot summer sun. Not that I got in the water, but the breeze was enough.

  As we built a sand castle, Jenna told us about the new neighbors she’d seen. I didn’t really care when she said that two girls our age had moved in. I figured that just meant she had someone else to play Barbies with and now maybe she’d leave me and Chris alone. I was eight. Tea parties weren’t my thing. But, since there weren’t any other girls on the block, I found myself sitting around the table from time to time.

  What could I say? I was a nice brother. And, for some reason, Chris never seemed to have a problem with it. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he had a crush on Jenna, but they fought more than we did, so I knew there was no way he liked her. He just put up with her like I did. Now, I was finding out, we wouldn’t have to since she’d have girls to play with.

  “This is boring. Let’s go find some shells,” Chris said, and Jenna concurred.

  I still needed to finish the moat around the castle, so I told them to go ahead without me. I lost myself in the details of my creation, having no idea how much time had ticked by or how long Chris and Jenna had left me there alone.

  I heard her soft voice before I even realized she was there.

  “Hi.”

  Standing on the top step of the gazebo was a girl who looked to be my age. I’d never seen her before, and part of me secretly hoped right then and there that she was one of the new girls Jenna had told me about. I didn’t know why, but suddenly, I didn’t want her to be Jenna’s new best friend, or else I’d be spending a whole lot more time playing with those stupid dolls and drinking fake tea.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, not even as a pink blush formed on her cheeks. Especially not then. She had pretty, blonde hair that was in a ponytail. Even though it was up, I could tell it was long by the way it hung in a straight line down her back. It swung around when she moved her head, and I wondered what it would look like down. I didn’t quite understand that thought, but I’d had it nonetheless.

  Sparkling, blue eyes shone down on me. In the bright sunlight, her brown freckles highlighted her skin. On the side of her cheek was a pattern that looked just like my favorite constellation—the Little Dipper. Any time we camped in the backyard and I stared up at the sky, I wished I could touch the stars. Now that I was seeing them right there on her cheek, I wanted to connect those dots with my fingers. But, even as pretty as I thought she was, what I noticed most was the vibrant orange shirt she was wearing with my favorite character on it.

  I couldn’t help the grin that formed on my face as I held my hand up. “I’m in the zone!” I told her with my best Michelangelo impression.

  Her nose wrinkled before recognition crossed her face. Then she laughed and slipped her shoes off before coming down the steps and plopping in the sand beside me.

  “Hi. I’m Sierra,” she said, sticking her hand out so we could shake.

  I’d never heard that name before, so I let it run over in my mind.

  Sierra.

  It was beautiful—just like her.

  “Jeremy,” I told her, lowering my voice an octave, trying to sound older than my eight years. It didn’t work, and my stomach did a funny flip-flop move when she giggled.

  “Oh, really? I thought you were Michelangelo.”

  An instant swell of relief washed over me. She hadn’t been laughing at me and
my awful voice-changing abilities. And just like that, we fell into easy conversation about our favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. What was it that Michelangelo had said about that pretty girl in the last movie?

  “Oh man, she was hot.”

  Suddenly, I realized hot meant pretty, and I could honestly say that Sierra was hot.

  Not that I’d tell her that.

  We chatted like we were old friends, and I was excited to learn that she was my new neighbor. Surprisingly, I wasn’t disappointed in the least that she wasn’t a boy. The fact that she seemed to like all the things I did was more than enough for me to want to be instant friends with her. Plus, she was much better to look at than Chris.

  Eventually, her little sister, Lexi, showed up, and Chris and Jenna came back. I didn’t quite know why, but I was disappointed that we were no longer alone. I’d liked talking to Sierra on my own, and I wanted her all to myself. For some reason, I didn’t want to share. Since I had a twin, I was pretty good at the whole sharing-is-caring thing, and I never minded when Jenna tagged along with Chris and me. This time, sharing was the last thing I wanted to do. But, sadly, I had no choice as introductions were made.

  All too soon, Sierra said she and Lexi had to go home. Even though I could’ve played longer, I decided to call it a day and walk them home. Chris gave me a funny look, but I just shrugged and told him the sun had made me tired. He and Jenna snickered. They didn’t believe me, but I didn’t care.

  When we got to the end of their driveway, Lexi waved and ran inside. Sierra lingered with me, smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The toe of her tennis shoe scuffed along the cement as we both stood there staring at each other, not saying a word.

  Finally, she cleared her throat and broke the silence. “I didn’t want to move here,” she said.

  I hated that she sounded sad. I hated it even more that she was admitting she hadn’t wanted to be here. I wanted to change that. I wanted to make her want to stay, to be happy she’d moved right next door.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing what other words to give her.

  She shook her head at me, her smile widening. “Don’t be. Because of you, I’m not scared anymore.”

  My eyes widened, and I had to clear my throat to mask my surprise. “You’re not? Why were you scared to begin with?”

  She shrugged. “I was afraid I wouldn’t make any friends, but then I met you.” She paused for a moment before her eyes looked panicked. “I mean, if you want to be friends, that is. I know I’m a girl and everything, but I don’t even like Barbies. I’m what Mom calls a tomboy.” The declaration was proud, and I liked it, even if she was too pretty to be called anything with boy in the name.

  I laughed and placed my hand on her shoulder to reassure her. “Don’t worry, Sierra. Even if you did like Barbies, we could still be friends. Since you don’t, that’s just a bonus.” Then I leaned in close and lowered my voice to a whisper. “And you know what that means?”

  She shook her head. “What?”

  “It means that not only can we be friends, but we can be best friends,” I told her, hoping Chris didn’t mind if I had another one.

  Her smile returned. “Really?”

  I nodded. For some reason, my palms got sweaty while I waited for her to answer. My heart was beating like I’d just run a mile or done some of the football drills Dad had been teaching me earlier that summer to get ready for the PeeWee league.

  After what felt like an eternity, Sierra put me out of my waiting misery. “I’d like that, Jeremy.”

  Without thinking, I spat on my palm and held it out to her. When I realized she probably thought it was gross, I cringed, but I went with it. “Spit-shake on it? To make it official?”

  To my surprise, she spit into her own palm and held it out to me. Our hands connected and we shook three times. Then we held hands as our eyes met.

  “Best friends?” she asked.

  “Best friends,” I confirmed.

  The moment broke when her mom called her inside. She gave me one last wave before she disappeared into her house, and even though I didn’t want to, I headed home with that funny feeling I couldn’t understand in my tummy.

  “Where’s the fire?” Mom called as I scurried into the kitchen faster than usual.

  My chest heaved as butterflies swirled in my stomach. I wrinkled my nose at the strange sensation. Boys didn’t get butterflies, did they? I shook my head—no, of course they didn’t. I must’ve been coming down with the flu or something. I didn’t feel right. What was happening to me?

  “Mom!” I exclaimed, excitement taking over as I tried calming the fluttering pests that were attacking my insides.

  She turned from the sink and dried her hands, giving me a warm smile.

  “Guess what?”

  She set the towel down and animatedly tapped her chin as she tried to think of a guess. I impatiently rocked back and forth on my heels. Women, I thought, echoing my dad’s jovial tease whenever my mom or sister did something he called “exasperating.”

  “Hmm. Let me think. You spotted the shark that’s been swimming in the Sound close to the shore?” she asked.

  As the blood drained from my face, my eyes widened. I’d just come from the gazebo at the end of our neighborhood that led to the Sound. “There’s a shark down there?!” I gasped, momentarily forgetting all about my new neighbors.

  In all of my years—yep, all eight of them—I’d never seen a shark before. The thought of one being so close was frightening. Not that I’d admit that out loud though. I shuddered as I thought of the movie Jaws.

  Mom had been pissed when she’d found out Dad let Jenna and me watch the scary shark movie when she’d been out of town. He’d claimed that it was to keep us alert in the water. Mom hadn’t bought it. But, in the end, Dad’s plan had worked, because I hadn’t stepped foot in the ocean in weeks. Jenna called me a scaredy-cat. “Better to be that than shark bait,” I’d said, but that didn’t mean she and Chris didn’t have a lot of fun teasing me about it. Whatever.

  Mom laughed just as Dad walked into the kitchen, surveying the room. He wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned in close to give her a kiss on the lips. I wrinkled my nose, letting out the usual, “Eww!” which was followed by fake puking sounds. I always thought it was gross when my parents did that lovey-dovey stuff, but the truth was I kinda found it cool at the same time. A lot of kids at my school had parents who weren’t married anymore, and knowing that my mom and dad were still together made me happy. We were still a happy family. When I grew up, I hoped I could be happy like they were. But, for now, I was content pretending it was gross. Because it’d be a long darn time before I ever liked a girl that way.

  At least, that’s what I’d thought before that day.

  Dad laughed and gave Mom another smacking kiss. When he pulled back, he leaned across the counter and ruffled my already-mussed hair. “I could hear you all the way from the garage. What’s with all the excitement?” he asked as he loosened his tie and rolled his sleeves up before taking a dish from Mom and drying it.

  They were both still watching me curiously while they worked in perfect unison. When I didn’t answer, Mom raised an eyebrow and looked at Dad.

  “I have no idea, Jay. Jeremy was out playing then running in like a bat out of Hell.”

  Dad’s smile grew as both of my parents watched me expectantly, waiting for me. But, before I could answer, Jenna came strolling in. Her grin reminded me of the Cheshire cat, that creepy purple one from Alice in Wonderland. She was about to rat me out, and I wasn’t quite quick enough to stop her.

  “Jeremy and Sierra sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I—”

  I slapped my hand over her mouth. She giggled then bit me so I’d let go. Freaking bit me!

  I’m not even ashamed to admit that a girly yelp escaped my lips as I pulled my hand away and shook it to try to stop the pain from her stupid teeth. “Dammit, Jenna!” I complained then muttered another bad word under my breath. Wi
ncing, I side-eyed Mom and Dad, who looked all too amused. “Sorry,” I told them, already knowing they’d take a percentage off my weekly allowance for that one.

  I didn’t get it. It was just a word. What made it so much worse than any other one? Why was dang better than damn? Shoot better than shit? Or the F word that really riled Mom up? Why was that so much worse than freak? At the time, I thought grown-ups had just made it all up to punish us kids. Stupid rules.

  “Sierra?” Mom asked, sounding all too interested.

  I groaned when my sister nodded with enthusiasm. Mom’s interest had clearly been piqued.

  “Yep. She’s—” Her voice was muffled as I slapped my hand over her mouth again, chancing another bite while I tried to shut her up. Sisters could be so annoying.

  “Shut up, Jenna,” I pleaded through clenched teeth.

  “Jeremy, let go of your sister. Jenna, let your brother tell us himself,” Mom said, her voice soft and soothing.

  I dropped my hand as ordered even though I didn’t want to. Jenna opened her mouth to pipe up again, but my mom gave her an index finger, warning her to keep her trap shut. Thank goodness.

  I ran a hand through my hair. “You know the new family that moved in next door? They have two daughters. One is our age, and she’s going to be in my class!”

  Mom raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” she asked.

  I nodded, humming my answer. “Mmm hmm! And I’m the first friend she’s made in Navarre! She’s cool, too. She was wearing a Michelangelo shirt and everything. He’s her favorite, just like mine! Isn’t that so rad?”

  “Wow,” Mom responded, smiling. “It is, indeed, rad. Sounds like you’re going to be good friends.”

  My cheeks warmed up at the memory of us being best friends, but I wasn’t going tell Mom that. After all, she was going to be my first girl friend, and Mom was already amused by it. Instead, I changed the subject. Well, at least a little bit.

  “Hey, Mom?” I asked.

  She twisted to look at me. “Yeah, Jer?”

  “What’s an R.O.U.S.?” I asked, frowning at the memory.

  Before she could answer, Dad barked his laughter.