UNEDITED
Calla Henrik's family runs the best ATV business in town, and she's ready to take over the family business for the summer while her parents go on a much-needed vacation. She's ready to earn some money before she attends the University of A...
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Maddox
Everything is wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
I don't know why I feel so drawn to Calla, but I know it's a big mistake. Pulling her into my life is entirely selfish and dangerous. And, aside from those two perfectly valid reasons, it's too soon for me to be crushing on her like this. It's been just over two weeks since I started working here and I'm already wondering what the hell is wrong with me. If Calla is quicksand, then I'm the fool who followed the path and got stuck in it.
"Are you sure you have to go down today?" Calla asks, concern lacing her voice as she sits on the picnic table. For the past fifteen minutes, she's been watching me pack up all my dirty laundry and other essentials I need to restock for the next couple of weeks. "I was thinking we could take a ride up to Terrace Mountain, you and me. It would be a lot of fun. You could help me reassemble all the trail markers that the people who were logging up here ruined."
It's early in the morning. So early that the sun hasn't even peaked over the mountains yet and there's a thin layer of dew on the grassy spots surrounding my campsite. The past couple of weeks have whizzed by and I'm in dire need of some new clothes that haven't been soaked with mud and smell of campfire smoke.
I smile to myself as I tighten the drawstring on my laundry bag. Spending these past two weeks with Calla has made me realize that she completely lacks a filter. She's expressed to me, multiple times, how much she dislikes my father and everything he's done to me. While some people would consider what she's said to be ignorant or rude, I think it's a breath of fresh air. I like that I have someone I can actually talk to, aside from Vance, about how things are going at home. And, surprisingly, I don't have a problem telling her about everything. Perhaps it's because I know she divides the decisions my father has made from the decisions I've made; she, unlike so many other people, understands that we're two completely different people and that I haven't had much of a choice in some of the things that have happened in the past.
"Calla," I say, getting to my feet. I stare down at her, meeting her sparkly blue eyes. I can't quite put my finger on what colour they are, but I'm determined to figure that out before this summer ends. I sling the bag over my shoulder. Her eyes widen slightly and I get this fuzzy feeling in my stomach, a warm blush beginning to creep its way across my cheeks. I clear my throat. "I'm going to be fine. As long as I steer clear of my dad and make it look like I'm just there to do laundry and clean up the house before I head to class tomorrow morning and then on a camping trip with Vance."
She lowers her eyes to my lips. The punch he threw didn't cause enough damage that I needed stitches – thank God. There is a small pink scar there, though, which is probably from me constantly scratching at it while it was healing. I can't count how many times Calla slapped my hands away from my face when we weren't out on the trails. "How do you do it?" she asks, her voice a soft whisper. "Lie, manipulate, take brutal beatings from your father, yet still stay so kind and caring?"
