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Authors: Amy Reece

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The Way to Her Heart

BOOK: The Way to Her Heart
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The Way to Her Heart

 

 

By Amy Reece

 

 

The Way to Her Heart

 

Copyright © 2016 by Amy Reece.

All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: March 2016

 

 

Limitless Publishing, LLC

Kailua, HI 96734

www.limitlesspublishing.com

 

Formatting: Limitless Publishing

 

ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-554-4

ISBN-10: 1-68058-554-1

 

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

 

Dedication

 

For Michael, one of the lost boys.

 

 

 

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”

—Maya Angelou

 

“On any given night, up to 6,000 youth are homeless in Albuquerque. It is not a life they chose. It is a life chosen for them.”

—New Day Youth and Family Services, Albuquerque, NM

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

Bernie

 

July

 

They were fighting. Again. It was part of the pattern. They would come home from wherever they had been and proceed to smoke whatever they had bought. When they were flying high, laughter and loud music could be heard from the living room, along with other sounds she didn’t want to analyze too deeply. Then they would inevitably fight. She simply locked her bedroom door, put her headphones on, turned up her music, and tried to sleep. She managed until around one in the morning, when they apparently renewed their argument. She folded her pillow over her head, trying to block it out. They finally quieted down about an hour later, most likely passed out. She considered sneaking out to the kitchen for some food since they had arrived earlier than she expected, before she could eat dinner. Her stomach was growling so hard she didn’t think she could get back to sleep, but she hated to go out to the living room and risk seeing her mother and her latest boyfriend in various stages of undress.

Hunger finally drove her out of bed, and she was reaching for the doorknob when it was jiggled from the outside. She gasped and drew her hand back.

“Are you in there, kid? Come on out!”

Her heart beat madly as the doorknob rattled again. There was no way she would open the door for him. She didn’t even know this one’s name, but she hadn’t missed the way his eyes had assessed her when they met a few days ago. God, her mom had a talent for picking the skeeziest scum of the earth to shack up with. It hadn’t always been like this. She remembered a time when her dad still lived with them. There hadn’t been a lot of money, but they had been happy. Then her dad got sent to prison and her mom had not coped well.

“Open this door! Now!” He started pounding on it.

She shook herself out of her reverie, turned to her dresser, and frantically threw on some clothes. She grabbed the small duffle bag she kept packed and ready for times when she needed to leave quickly. She opened her bedroom window and boosted herself out. She ran, tripping and ripping the knees of her jeans, to Gabby’s trailer, two away from hers.

“Gabby! Can I come in? Please?” She rapped lightly on Gabby’s bedroom window, but there was no answer. She knocked for several more minutes, but it was clear Gabby wasn’t home. This had happened with increasing frequency over the last few years, since the girls had started high school. They had been inseparable from the time they met in kindergarten, but Gabby started going her own way early in ninth grade, hanging out with some questionable people.

Great. Now what?
She couldn’t go home and her usual refuge was unavailable. She sighed, slung her duffle bag over her shoulder, and trudged back to her trailer. She peeked around the corner to make sure the front door was still shut, then ran to her car, thankful she’d grabbed her keys before she left. She backed her aging Honda Civic out of the driveway and drove away, not sure where she was going. In the end, she bought a stale chimichanga at a gas station and drove around in the cool night air for a while before finding an out-of-the-way place to park for the few hours left before sunrise.

 

***

 

He
moved in. She managed to find a time when neither her mother nor the boyfriend were home and retrieved the rest of her clothes and a few important belongings, determined to never spend another night under the same roof with him.

Gabby had not returned home. After four days, her father reported her missing and the flyers started appearing in the neighborhood. She watched local news coverage of the disappearance while washing her clothes in a laundromat. Although it was officially a missing person case, the police were clearly treating it as if Gabby had run away, slipping in sly references to her wild behavior and reputation as a party girl.

She had no idea what to do about her own situation. Home wasn’t currently an option, and she had no friends or relatives close enough to impose upon for any length of time. She had stayed with a cousin for a few days, but it didn’t work out. The problem was her age: she was seventeen and wouldn’t turn eighteen until April. It was now July. The thing she feared most in the world, beyond being raped by her mom’s boyfriend, was the system. She couldn’t bear the thought of being a foster kid. She had heard horror stories and was determined to avoid it at all costs. She had no idea how to pull that off, but she would certainly give it her best effort. School couldn’t start soon enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

October

 

Josh

 

She cut her hair.
Josh realized he was staring at the girl in the next row and pulled his gaze back to his notebook as the teacher droned on about supply and demand curves.
I don’t care for short hair on girls.
Yet he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He didn’t even know her name. On Friday her hair had been long, the silky, black tresses reaching below her shoulder blades. Today, he could see the back of her neck. He could see how long and slender it was and watched as she reached around to feel it, seeming surprised, perhaps still unused to the short cut. She pushed the long front layer behind her ear.
The purple streak is kind of cute, though.
He once again forced his gaze back to his notes, reminding himself he had a girlfriend; a beautiful girlfriend with long, blonde hair.
Focus, Harris. Get your mind off the pretty girl with the short hair.
She
was
pretty. He’d always thought so, even though he didn’t know her name. He’d heard it; wasn’t it something weird?
Enough! Supply, demand. That’s all you need to think about.

“So, for the next few weeks, you will be paired up with one of your classmates as we launch a new project designed to help you experience some of what it takes to create and stick to a household budget.” Mr. Griego picked up a stack of index cards from his desk. “I have created a scenario with careers and incomes for each couple. Some of you have children, and some don’t. Every few days you will get a new financial situation you have to deal with. Each week of this project will be the equivalent of one month for your budget. You will turn in a complete six month budget, along with a written report at the end of the project. Each couple will also give a five-minute oral presentation.” He started calling names and handing out index cards. There were groans and titters of laughter as the names were called because some of the couples were same-sex. “Josh Harris and Bernie Abeyta.” No one in the class said anything or laughed at the pairing. Josh wasn’t surprised; he had pretty much fallen off the radar over a year ago. He stood and walked to the front of the room to retrieve the index card.

“Who’s Bernie Abeyta?” he asked quietly.
Great. I’m paired with a guy. Just what I needed.

The girl with the short, purple hair raised her hand. “Me.” She sounded bored.

“Okay. I’m, uh, I’m Josh.” He stood in front of her desk, awkwardly shifting from side to side.

“Yeah. I’m Bernie.” She glanced up quickly, meeting his gaze, then looked away.

“You have the last fifteen minutes of class to exchange contact information, phone numbers, email addresses, whatever you need to get in touch with your partner. Most of the project work will need to be on your own time as you will need to visit grocery stores and do some online research,” Mr. Griego said.

Josh sat down in the newly vacated desk in front of Bernie. “So.” He waved the index card. “One of us is a teacher, and the other is an attorney. Which do you want to be?”

Bernie shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter to me. You choose.”

He looked at her, a half-smile on his face. Close up he noticed she had beautiful, smooth, light brown skin and her eyes were so dark they looked black. She didn’t wear much makeup; she didn’t need to. “Fine. I’ll be the teacher. You can be the attorney.” She looked up quickly. “Is that okay?”

She shrugged again. “Sure. It doesn’t matter. Do we have kids?”

“Yeah, we have two: an eight-year-old daughter and a six-year-old son. So, I guess we should exchange phone numbers and email.” He scrawled his information on a page of his notebook and tore it out, handing it to her.

She took the page, staring at it blankly for a moment before tearing a piece of paper out of her own notebook. “Here’s my email.”

He looked at it. “What’s your cell number?”

“I don’t have one. Just the email.”

“Oh. Okay.” Josh had never heard of anyone his age who didn’t have a cell phone. “So, do you want to get together tomorrow night to get started on this? We could meet at my house. Or yours. Whatever you want.”

“Yours. Here.” She pushed the paper back at him. “Write your address. I have to work until seven. I can be there around seven thirty. Is that okay?” She didn’t meet his eyes.

“Uh, sure. That’s fine. Here.” He handed the paper back. “Do you need a ride or anything?”

“No.”

“Oh. Great. So, I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow. I guess.” He had never been so tongue-tied around a girl.

“Yeah.” She turned her attention back to her notebook, clearly dismissing him.

Josh returned to his seat, chagrined.
I seem to have lost my touch.
Then again, he hadn’t really been trying very hard for a long time. He used to be much better at this whole thing—friends, girls, talking. Now he simply didn’t have the energy anymore. It was October of his senior year, and he was biding his time until he could graduate and move on with his life.
She’s really pretty, though.
He groaned inwardly as he packed his notebook and shouldered his backpack. He knew he had no business noticing how pretty his new partner was; he should be thinking about how gorgeous his girlfriend had looked in her cheerleading uniform that morning during the pep rally. She was beautiful, sweet, and had stuck by him through a seriously dark time in his life. He had really been phoning it in lately with Kayleigh. Jeez, he could do better. He merged with the flow of humanity in the hallway, determined to do right by her, starting tomorrow at lunch.

 

***

 

She
was standing in front of her locker, talking to another girl. Her blonde ponytail hung halfway down her back, shiny and silky-looking. She and her friend were laughing, and Josh realized again how beautiful she was.

“Kayleigh.” He slipped his arm around her waist as he stepped behind her. “Hey.” She was short, her head only reaching the bottom of his chin. It made kissing difficult. Jeez, he couldn’t remember the last time they had kissed.

“Josh! Hey!” She turned and hugged him before turning back to the other girl. “I’ll talk to you later, Jenna.” She hugged Josh again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I just wanted to tell you how amazing you look today. You did great at the pep rally yesterday.”

“Aww, thanks. You’re so sweet, Josh.” She reached up and kissed his cheek.

When had their relationship become so platonic? Good God, he
was
slipping. Determined to do better by her, he reached for her hand and pulled her with him into a semi-deserted hallway.

“Where are we—?” she began.

He silenced her by lowering his lips to hers.
I remember how to do this. Kissing is good.
Kayleigh didn’t object, so he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of her lips. She obligingly opened her mouth under his, and they enjoyed a few minutes of making out in the hallway. She tasted like peppermint and felt good in his arms.

“Wow,” she breathed against his lips. “What’s this about? Are you okay, Josh?”

Really? That’s the reaction I get to our first kiss in…I don’t remember how long?
“I’m fine. I just…I’m sorry I’ve been so out of it, Kayleigh. You deserve better. I’m going to do better.”

“Oh, Josh.” She reached up and stroked his jaw. “You’ve been through so much, babe. Don’t worry about me. I love you, Josh.” She hugged him tightly.

He hugged her back, enjoying the comfort of her embrace but wondering about the lack of romance. Didn’t girls want romance? Kayleigh was a saint, and he felt like the world’s biggest tool for ignoring her so long. “Do you want to go grab some lunch? McDonald’s?”

“Oh, I told Jenna I’d see her in the caf. It’s okay, I can text her.” She pulled her phone out.

“No.” Josh stayed her hand. “Let’s eat in the cafeteria. You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?”

“Of course not. Let’s go.” She placed her small hand in his large one and led him down the hallway.

“You look great today, Kay.” He winced as he realized he’d already told her that. What did they used to talk about? “Um, I mean, you look really uh, sexy in that skirt.” God, how lame could he get? When did he forget how to flirt with his girlfriend?

She looked up at him, surprised. “Oh. Thanks. You look great too. I love that shirt.”

“Do you want to go out this weekend? Maybe we could grab some dinner. Or a movie.” He couldn’t remember the last time they had gone out on a date, either. Had they ever really gone on a date? He had asked her out for the first time just a few days before…well, before things got bad. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He was doing so much better, as long as he didn’t think about it. She had patiently stood by him, not demanding anything, for over a year, and he owed her big time.

“Um, sure. Yeah, that would be great.”

“So, great. I’ll, uh, call you later.” He hadn’t called her for months; they saw each other at school and that was it. They arrived at the cafeteria and he opened the door for her, which seemed to catch her by surprise.
Josh, you idiot! You’re lucky someone else didn’t snap her up while you were being a dumbass.

“How’s your mom?” Kayleigh asked as she applied lip gloss. He wondered why she wanted to put lip gloss on before she ate. Sometimes girls didn’t make sense. He hoped most of it would be gone before he kissed her again. That lip gloss was nasty, sticky stuff.

“She’s good. Better. I guess we both are.”

“Oh, Josh.” She turned to him and placed her hand in his. “I’m so glad.”

He pulled her close. “Kayleigh, thanks for being there for me. It means a lot. You are the sweetest girl I know. And you’re gorgeous. I’m really lucky to have you in my life.”

She reached her hand up to cup his jaw. “I’m lucky to have you too, Josh. Come on, I’ll let you buy me a salad.”

“Josh! Man, it’s good to see you.” Tony Esposito, Josh’s best friend since eighth grade, when they played YAFL football together, stood up from the table and came around to pound Josh on the back. “How you doin’, man?”

“I’m good, Tony. It’s been a while. Sorry.” Josh ducked his head, ashamed at how isolated he had been for the last year.

“Hey, no worries, man, no worries. Come sit down.” Tony cleared a space for Josh and Kayleigh by glowering at the current occupants. Tony had reluctantly respected Josh’s need for space over the last year, unable to understand what he was going through but willing to let Josh deal with his grief on his own terms.

“So, how’s the defense this year?” Josh had played varsity football with Tony up until last season when tragedy had caused him to lose interest in sports.

“Could be better. You thinking of coming back?”

They both knew that was unlikely, especially so late in the season. Josh smiled and shook his head. “Nah. I’m so out of shape I wouldn’t be any help.”

“Josh and I are going out this weekend,” Kayleigh broke in, obviously trying to redirect the conversation to more pleasant topics. “You and Trisha should come with us.”

“Sure. That sounds great.” Tony smiled easily. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Josh wasn’t sure. He looked around the table at his friends and realized he didn’t know them anymore. He racked his brain for a topic of conversation but came up empty. They talked about the upcoming game, who was dating whom, and the latest gossip from their social circle. Josh didn’t know anything about what they were talking about, nor could he dredge up any interest. What was wrong with him? He felt like an old man. He ate his lunch, pretending to listen and hopefully smiling and nodding at the proper times, but he was relieved when the bell rang.

 

***

 

Josh
was prepping dinner when the doorbell rang. She was late, not that he had been watching the clock. He’d noticed, that’s all. He rinsed the flour from his hands and made himself walk slowly to the door. “Hey, come on in.” He stood aside for her to enter, wiping his hands on a dish towel, which he then slung over his shoulder. “Come on back to the kitchen. I need to finish dinner. Freddie, move out of the way.” He shoved the Great Dane aside impatiently. He led the way through the spacious living room with vaulted ceilings into an ultramodern, professional-looking kitchen. Freddie followed close behind, his toenails scrabbling on the tile, his whip-like tail wagging madly at the guest. Josh motioned for Bernie to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar and took his place at the counter, where he resumed dredging chicken cutlets in Parmesan bread crumbs. “You want something to drink?”

“No thanks. I’m fine.”

He looked back over his shoulder at her and rolled his eyes. He wiped his hands, turned, and opened the refrigerator. “Coke, Sprite, milk, or tea?”

“Coke. Please.” She seemed to remember her manners at the last minute.

He poured the soda in a glass, added ice, and placed it in front of his guest with a smile he hoped was charming, or at least not terrifying. “Do you mind if we talk about the project while I cook?”

BOOK: The Way to Her Heart
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