WAKE (Wattpad edition)

26. How skin feels.

{Cary}

Kadee's hand was as soft as a flower in his curled fingers. When they came up the driveway, Mel was pulling weeds in the front flower bed, and Cary loosened his fingers so Kadee could pull away. She didn't. Mel got to her feet, brushing dirt off her knees, and Cary felt so big standing there with Kadee holding his hand that his head practically brushed the sky.

"Hi, Mrs. White," Kadee let him go to give Jon's mom a hug. "I hope you don't mind—I kind of invited myself over and then stayed to help."

Mel's gentle smile touched them both, and Cary's face warmed. "Of course not. How are you, Kadee?"

Cary busied himself tidying up the tools and throwing a last clump of weeds on the pile. He heard Kadee say, "I'm okay. It's a weird time for me—finding out who my real friends are."

"Ah." Mel said. When Cary straightened, he found Mel smiling right at him, like she understood more than Kadee was saying. "I'm sure Cary appreciates your help with the girls. Would you like to stay for supper?"

Kadee checked his face, and he lifted the corners of his mouth, hoping she would say yes. Her dimple showed and her eyes sparkled. "I'd love to."

Kadee made Jon's parents laugh as they prepared dinner together. She spent time listening to Bea's stories and gave Tabitha tips for her hair. It was like someone had brought the sunshine back into the room. Family dinner had been tense all summer, often ending in a blow-up or freezing silence between Jon and his dad. Cary took his time eating, wanting to prolong the pleasure of hearing her bubbling conversation. Once, when the girls were telling their parents about their ice cream adventure, Kadee reached over and touched his hand just for a moment. He glanced at her and her warm, brown eyes crinkled in a smile just for him.

There were a dozen reasons to stay wary, but those reasons were starting to feel like rules for relationships with other people, not Kadee. He felt his chest opening with a creak of disuse to let her warmth and energy lift his own spirits. He thought of their conversation on the walk and realized he felt good about the things he had said. He still often thought of his father mocking him for how few words he had, how unintelligent he sounded—but he'd been able to put his thoughts into words with Kadee, and that had felt good. It didn't seem as ridiculous as it had when she'd first suggested they try something together.

After supper, Bea persuaded them to watch a movie with her in the family room. The couch was too small for the three of them, so Bea snuggled happily next to Kadee, and Cary sat on the floor with his long legs stretched in front of him. Animated woodland creatures sang and frolicked while Kadee's calf brushed his arm.

Bea started playing with his hair, as she often did when they watched TV together—smoothing it down, working her small fingers right into the thick tangle and unknotting it piece by piece. Cary's breathing slowed and his body relaxed under her gentle attention.

"Can I have a turn?" Kadee asked. She shifted, settling herself on the couch behind his shoulders.

Her fingers combed through the hair on the back of his neck, then kneaded the muscles that joined his skull to his shoulders. It squeezed a sound out of his chest and he drew his knees up, clasping them to steady himself.

There was a puff of air against his ear as she leaned in the speak to him. "Does that feel okay?"

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Her hands were too small to circle his neck, but strong enough to make a dent in the tension he often carried in his body. She slowly worked on the big, bunched muscles in his shoulders, digging the tightness out. He made himself breathe deeply to help the pain release. When she started to stroke the heels of her hands up the long muscles along his spine, he had to put his face against his knees, shivering deep in his stomach. Every stroke sent a wave of sensation up to the top of his scalp, down to his fingertips and tailbone, like he'd never felt that part of his body before. It felt like she was finding every muscle, every inch of skin that had worn a bruise and making it sound its story under her fingers.