Blindness by Ginger Scott

Author:Ginger Scott
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: college romance, motocross love, angst, romance, triangle love story, college, forbidden romance, new adult, ginger scott
Publisher: Ginger Scott
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I don’t know how we manage to walk to the arena, both of us walking side-by-side, our fingers so close to connecting, but never touching…not once. We get inside and find our seats, taking turns going to the restroom. Cody gets us drinks, and I busy myself twisting the straw on my Diet Coke, secretly glad that Cody’s not drinking anything hard either.

The lights flick twice, and people start to file from their seats down the aisles to crowd the stage, and I want to go. Cody’s questions have me wondering lots of things about myself, about who I really am—and I feel like I’m the girl who gets in the middle of the crowd, who throws her hands in the air, and tries to touch the lead singer’s hand at a concert. I look at Cody and nod to the stage. He shrugs, sets his drink in a cup holder, and puts his hand along my back to push me forward.

His touch is like an ice cube sliding down my back, the sensation a foreign surprise, but I’m desperate for it, to melt it, to make it warm. I keep my gaze forward, committed to the stage and the crowd that’s building before me. I want to be in the middle. I’m determined.

As we slide between the bodies, I feel Cody get closer; both of his hands grip my shoulders to direct me and keep me near him. I’m finally satisfied a few rows in front of the stage, near a walkway that I’m sure the band will walk out on. My heart is pounding, and the rush I’m feeling just standing here among the sea of bodies is addictive.

I know I’m not really taking a risk. I know compared to what Cody does—compared to driving off of a ramp at 80 miles per hour and throwing my body through twists and turns in the air—I’m not really risking anything. But I’m a far cry from the girl who sits in a balcony at a play, the girl who keeps her mouth shut at a football game, not wanting to scream or offend the guy sitting in front of her. And letting go of that inhibition, getting close to a stage, to a band that I love, feels like living.

The crowd is thick within minutes, and I know I’m going to be standing here—in this spot—for the next three hours. And Cody will be here. And that’s a risk, too.

I’m about to turn to him, let go a little more, and hug him, because I want to—when I realize he’s staring at someone near the corner of the stage. He’s visibly upset. I try to follow the direction of his eyes, but there are too many people, too many possibilities. Without looking at me, he gives my shoulders another squeeze.

“Hey, don’t move. Like, at all, okay? I’ll be right back. There’s someone I have to see,” he says, moving from me and sliding through the hundreds of people surrounding us.

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