Page 28 of Losing Leah

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I flushed at his teasing. I knew he had to be poking fun at me, but it was hard to tell with his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

He wagged the package at me again. “They’re really good. Everyone that’s cool does it.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth while my legs made the decision for me. They had reached the extent of their output and were practically screaming at me to sit. I sat cautiously on the bench next to him, leaving as much space open between us as possible. The sun was bright and hot. I could feel it radiating against my skin. For a brief moment I wondered if everyone had been wrong. Maybe I was allergic. It only took a second to decide it didn’t matter. Sitting outside felt too good to care. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the sun wash over me.

“Feels good, huh?”

I jerked my head toward him. How did he know I was enjoying the sunlight? Was he just pretending to be blind? I felt stupid for falling for his ploy. I was a dumb girl who had no idea how to tell when someone was messing with me.

“It’s not nice to screw with people,” I said, making a move to stand up, but my legs clearly weren’t ready.

“By offering to share my peanut butter cups?” he asked.

I sighed. Instead of talking to Dr. Marshall about my stupid name, I should have asked her how to do this. How to make sense with people. “By pretending you can’t see.”

He snickered before answering. “I can’t.”

“Then how could you tell I was enjoying the sun or that I couldn’t open the door? And why are you laughing?” I asked defensively.

He shot me a wry smile. “Well, I’m blind, not deaf. You sighed real big when you sat down. As for the door, you were the one pounding on it. That was easy to determine after you thanked the old man when he held the door open. Being blind doesn’t mean I’m not aware of what goes on around me.” His friendly tone was gone. I’d offended him.

“I’m sorry. I’m not really good at any of this,” I muttered, hoping he’d be aggravated enough to leave me in self-loathing.

He didn’t leave though. Instead he offered the candy package to me again. “Here, you can have the last one. Good at what, by the way?”

“That’s okay. I don’t want to take your last one. I’m not sure I even like them.”

“You’ve never had a Reese’s?” he asked incredulously.

“No.”

“Holy alien nuts. Are you the one messing with me now? Playing with a blind kid’s emotions?”

Alien nuts? What was that supposed to mean? “Uh, no. I’m serious.”

He shook the package at me. “You definitely have to eat one now. Wait, you’re not one of those freaks who can’t stand chocolate, are you?”

“No,” I answered, accepting the candy package that was practically shoved in my face. I tore the orange wrapper, revealing a round piece of chocolate. The scent of chocolate and peanut butter wafted into my nose. I brought the candy up to my mouth, taking a small, tentative bite. My teeth sank down into the chocolate that was softer than I had been expecting.

“Wait, you’re not allergic to peanut butter, are you?”

I shook my head, forgetting he couldn’t see me. “No,” I said, chewing on the candy that tasted heavenly. It melted deliciously on my tongue except for a small part that I pulled from my mouth, blushing when I realized it was paper. Turning the remaining chocolate over, I saw that it was sitting on a small piece of brown paper. Pulling it off, I popped the rest of the candy into my mouth before it could melt.

“Judging by that sigh, I’d say you’re a Reese’s fan. I’m Gunner by the way,” he said, holding his hand out.

I wiped a little melted chocolate off my fingers before holding out my hand. “Le—I mean, Mia,” I said, letting go of another piece of the old me. I could almost feel it dying as I said my given name.

He twisted on the bench to face me. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, tapping his fingers on his leg.

I shrugged, forgetting again that he couldn’t see me. Gah, I was so bad at this. “So they tell me,” I muttered.

“Ah. I know who you are. You’re practically a celebrity here,” he said, nodding his head as he connected the dots.

Well, that didn’t take long. Bring on the pity party.

“Do you like to play checkers?” he asked abruptly.

“Um, checkers? I’ve never played.”


Tags: Tiffany King Mystery