Wooded Discovery by B.B. Swann

Book Excerpt

“Hey, Duke,” Iggy calls out, walking toward her. She salutes him with her cone.

Iggy makes life look so easy. He’s smart, but nobody thinks of Iggy as the nerdy kid. He talks to everyone, and they listen—the jocks, the brains, the potheads, even the teachers. He doesn’t belong to one group; he fits into them all.

Nobody listens to me. I’m the Watson to his Holmes. The Samwise to his Frodo. The Sheldon to his Leonard. I’m side-kick material, and he’s the blond-haired blue-eyed hero all the way.

We stop next to the two-foot brick wall separating the patio from the parking lot. The pecans from my sundae squirm like cockroaches in my gut.

“Hey, Iggy. How was summer? Hot enough for you?”

“Always. What’s up?”

“Same old thing,” Piper says. Her gray eyes settle on me. “Hi, Zaidyn. You look… different.”

It’s ninety-five degrees, but her gaze, and the fact that it’s on me for once, sends shivers down my back. I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out. My head pounds with the beat of a drummed death toll. Iggy bails me out. Again.

“Yeah,” he says. “He took a magic potion and grew half a foot this summer. Never thought I’d have to look up to him.”

They laugh, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to tame the restless pecans.

I catch Iggy’s smile from the corner of my eye and fight the urge to throat punch him. Piper shifts from one foot to the other. She looks at me and raises her eyebrow.

“Looking forward to school, Duke?” Iggy asks.

“Sure.” Piper raises a fist in a mock cheer. “Ready to get back to higher education.”

“Spoken like a true teacher’s kid.” Iggy laughs, pointing to the shakes. “Drowning your sorrows in ice cream tonight?”

“No,” Piper wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “Student council is meeting. I’m trying to convince them we need to institute a mandatory recycling program at school, but negotiations have stalled. Everyone wanted a sugar break.”

Piper’s motto; always looking out for the environment. Her dedication is one of the things I like about her. And her face. And her body, but those are bonuses to her personality.

“Got plans for tonight? I hear Melody is having a back-to-school bonfire.” He jerks his head toward me. “We can pick you up.”

Her eyes widen a little, and my already hot face explodes with heat. Really? What, is he my dad setting up a playdate?

(Note to self: Operation Embarrass Zaidyn complete.)

“Thanks, but uhm… I can’t.” I cross my arms over my chest and rock back on my heels. “I’ve gotta get home early tonight. My mom said she needed my help for something.”

It’s kind of true. Mom always makes a back-to-school-meal. She says it’s for me, but I think it’s to make herself believe that I’m not growing up and still like to play with Matchbox cars and Legos. Not that I’d tell Iggy that. He gives me enough crap about being a mama’s boy already.

“Yeah, same here.” Piper’s face turns red. “I-I mean I’ve got stuff to do. Anyway, the shakes are melting. See ya at school tomorrow.”

Piper frowns, darting her gaze at me. I twitch my lips, but she’s already getting into her car.

Iggy sighs as she drives away. “What was that? I set you up perfectly.”

“Set me up for what? Looking like an idiot who needs his friend to do all the talking?”

He laughs. “No, for you to make a move and get your game on. Never know. You could have been making out around the fire later. Or more.”

“Is sex all you think about?” We head for my car. He probably thinks I’m sabotaging him. But too many failed missions have eliminated my ability to feel guilty. Iggy will get over it. “I’m not just after sex.”

“You’re such a liar.” Iggy laughs. “You’re afraid to get laid.”

“Not every guy just wants to get laid.”

“Yes, they do. They just don’t want to admit it because they think it makes them look like a pig.”

“Well, sorry.” I click the locks to my Civic. “I don’t want to look like a pig.”

The inside of my car feels like Satan’s butt crack. I turn the key and crank the air-conditioning on the highest fan setting, angling the vents toward my dripping face.

Iggy adjusts his sunglasses. Leaning his elbow on the passenger door, he clicks his tongue.

“Someday you’ll change your mind. When the right girl comes along and juices you up. Here.” He grabs my wallet from the cup holder in the console and tucks a flat, blue, square-shaped package inside—the word Trojan printed in white across the front. “Just in case. Someday even you might need it.”

He laughs and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

“Jerk.”

“Wussy,” he replies, still laughing.

Gritting my teeth, I pull away from Northside and head through town toward Iggy’s house. Piper, the right girl, turns me into a freaking Mott’s Juice factory. But it doesn’t matter. She wouldn’t want me even if I grow two more feet, gain fifty pounds, and learn to fly.

***

Later that night after a shower, I pick a Dean Koontz book from the pile on my nightstand and lean back on the feather pillow behind my head. Maybe some supernatural talking dogs will help me relax.

Ten pages in, my mind wanders to the disaster at Northside Dairy. Piper said hi and acted friendly, but I can’t forget the oh shit look on her face when Iggy suggested she hang out with us at her best friend’s party. Her wide gray eyes looking everywhere but at me, because she’s too nice to do what other girls do—laugh at the thought of hanging with me.

College may beckon with its boundless possibilities of hiding from myself because nobody will know me, but first I need to get through my last year of high school. I look different, but everything will still be the same. The same teachers. The same kids. The same bullshit.

The weirdness at the library and my ‘floating’ sundae cup… that’s all it was. Weirdness. My weird book-brain making me think I have something special going on.

Shaking my head, I return to my book, hoping to get lost in the story and forget about my boring life. Same old same old.

I know better. I’m ordinary. No, worse than that—I’m stagnant. As much as I’d like it to, nothing ever changes around here. Least of all me. I drift off to sleep after a few chapters, where at least in my imagination I can soar ahead of the crowd.

– Excerpted from Wooded Discovery by B.B. Swann. Reprinted with permission.