A Forte Unseen

By Abby Jordan

Ask anyone: sixteen-year-old AJ Marett has the perfect life. He has a perfect family, perfect status in the perfect small town, and the perfect group of friends at the perfect high school. But AJ knows the truth. He has Becker muscular dystrophy, a disorder of the muscles that causes weakness and pain. He feels lost, but most of all, he fears the sympathy of his family and friends. How much longer he can keep his condition under control is anyones guess.

Carrie Wardlaws life is anything but perfect, but that doesnt mean she hasnt captured AJs imagination. His friend since the seventh grade, shes beautiful, intriguing, and different from anyone hes ever known. Because she comes from a broken family, shes not exactly what AJs parents had pictured for their darling son.

As they prepare for junior year, he begins to realize that he feels much more than friendship for Carrie. They build a bond through a series of letters, and hers tentatively introduce her wild side. When he finds out that shes not the good girl he thought, his love is put to the test for the first time.

Will AJ be able to love Carrie through her mistakes?

Will Carrie ever realize what AJ truly means to her?

Can she commit to him and only him before its too late?

Or will they simply become another one of the countless summer love stories that blows away with the autumn leaves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Apr 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781480817180

Abby Jordan

Abby Jordan is a future healthcare student at the College of Charleston. She grew up near Clemson, South Carolina, where she still lives with her parents and younger brother.

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Copyright © 2015 Abby Jordan.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-1717-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-1718-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015905122

Archway Publishing rev. date: 4/6/2015

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 1

I awoke. I think that’s one of the best feelings, if you’re not being forced to get up on a school morning while you’re still dazed and your body is still craving more sleep. To just slowly wake up to nothing but peaceful bliss, or in this case, the muffled buzz of chatter coming from my back porch. I wondered how many of our family friends had arrived to our cookout so far as I rolled out of my sheets and took a shower in record-breaking time. The smell of burger over charcoal slowly wafting its way through the house made my mouth water as I buttoned up my baby-blue collared shirt and pulled on a pair of khaki shorts. Mama’s friends always made such a fuss over how I dressed like such a gentleman, and this evening would be no exception. I bounded up the stairs from my basement bedroom and walked out into the foyer of my house just in time to hear Coach Bossert’s big, booming voice greeting my family, just as excited to see us as he was last time he came over, and the hundreds of times before that.

You been stayin’ outta trouble, AJ? Coach Bossert chuckled as he shook my hand.

Trying to. I answered. How’s the team looking? And so the evening’s conversation began. Small talk at my family’s cookouts always seemed to revolve around football among the men and neighborhood gossip among Mama’s friends. I followed Coach Bossert out to the grill while listening to him talk excitedly about lineups and plays.

Dad was manning the grill, absentmindedly flipping burger patties and talking to Mr. Davis when he heard Coach Bossert approaching. He perked up instantly at the sight of his childhood best friend. Hey,Keith! he said as he shook Coach Bossert’s hand. The two went back and forth for a minute, picking on each other for every gray hair and extra pound, the way men do.

Dad, you need any help with the grill? I finally asked.

Eh, I think I got it, he answered. Thanks, son.

Well, if you change your mind, Coach Bossert butted in, Chase will be more than willing to help.

Ah, Chase! Bring him out here, Dad said, excitedly. I bet the squirt has grown another foot since I last saw him. Maybe I can show him the work I’ve been doing on the old Ford out in the garage.

He’d love it! Coach Bossert said, graciously. That boy can’t get enough of anything with a motor on it.

AJ, Dad said, turning back to me, Will you go get Chase and send him out here? And ask Mama if she needs help with anything in the kitchen.

I nodded and smiled as I spun on my heels to make my way back inside. I felt that gnawing again, the one I always tried to push away the second it washed over me. The feeling that kept me up at night, tossing and turning, wondering if everyone in the world thinks I’m fragile and breakable, like a child. I wondered, if I’m not strong, will I ever even truly be a man? It leaves me so anxious that I find myself physically shaking at times, wishing I could shake the thoughts out of my head as quickly as the trembles rack my body.

Hey, baby, Mama said as she kissed me on the cheek and handed me stacks of paper plates and cups. Can you go set these out on the porch and patio tables? We’re gonna need lots of silverware, too. Most of my small group girls are gonna be able to make it!

Oh, AJ. You’re such a sweetheart, Mrs. Bossert gushed. I can’t even get Chase to fix his own plate at supper. He’s too busy playing with his toy trucks, or running around in the yard with a muddy ball.

He’s all boy, that’s for sure, I laughed. Where is Chase?

Right here! Chase squealed as he slid into the kitchen in his sock feet, Tonka truck in hand.

Go see my dad outside. He’s got something to show you.

The child sprinted out the back door before I could get another word out, just as our company began coming in the door in a steady stream of ladies in sundresses, most of them with a husband on their arm or a child on their hip. The Ellisons from church were first, followed by Ms. Cranston and the Neeleys from Mama’s small group. The cutest three year old I know, Brianna Glaze, came tottling in before her parents even made it up the porch stairs. Ms. Carmen, my mom’s cooking class instructor, made her entrance carrying a homemade banana pudding. Mrs. Mauldin, Mrs. Fennel, and Mrs. Geer, three neighborhood mothers with equally annoying eight year old girls, arrived together. In my head, I referred to them as The Feds, because they were always in everyone’s business. Mary and Bill Hall, Dad’s high school friends and drinking buddies, straggled in with windblown hair from the ride over on their matching Harleys. As more and more people filled my kitchen and living room, the conversations and laughter all around me began to improve my mood. My parents throw such lively parties that oftentimes, I get taken back to a simpler time and place – one where I was the kid out in the yard with the muddy football. In that world, I was strong, life was good, and the possibilities were endless. It’s nostalgic and heartbreaking all at the same time, but if Mama has taught me anything about being a good host, it’s that you must remain in a happy mood.

Look at you, AJ! Ms. Carmen beamed, looking me up and down. You are so grown up, and a gentleman at that! The Feds echoed their agreement.

Thank you, ma’am. I smiled as I reached down to hug her, and, gesturing down to the banana pudding that she was still holding, I added, Looks good!

AJ, look at my toy twain! said Cade Harris, as he tugged on my shorts. At two years old, the child had wandered through my house and found me without any help from his parents, who were already making their way out to the patio.

Oh, I love it, I replied, picking him up. You’ve gotten so big! I shifted him over to ride piggyback on me as I passed plates and cups out on both the indoor and outdoor tables. It was always entertaining to watch the different people interact at these parties. The Feds usually stayed huddled up off to the side, watching and gossipping and holding their daughters close by. Mary and Bill sat outside, beers in hand, laughing at everything my dad had to say. All the church people sat together, just enjoying each other’s company, or doing a great job of faking it. Others came and went, passing by each group after making small talk for a while and eventually settling somewhere in between, content to watch the children play. I gazed out past the tiki torches and patio chairs to see Cade, who had jumped off my back as soon as he caught a glimpse of Brianna Glaze, clumsily making his way over to her. He sat down next to her on the edge of the pool and dangled his feet into the water, mimicking her. The two looked off into the distance, past all the surrounding houses to where the Blue Ridge mountains could be seen against the fading blue sky at this time of day, and I smiled thinking of how their parents had always joked about the two of them ending up being high school sweethearts. I turned my attention to the far corner of my backyard to a picturesque view of Chase and Coach Bossert throwing the football back and forth, the best form of father-son bonding, with Matthew Ellison occasionally butting in. I knew Coach Bossert was probably already picturing those two third-grade boys bringing home a state title their senior year of high school.

Hi, AJ, a familiar voice chimed, startling me from behind. I turned to see Madeline Fuller grinning up at me. Her thick brunette waves had been tamed into perfect tresses that cascaded down to her waist; her eyes were the kind of brilliant blue that could look right through you. These days, it seemed she was more and more striking every time I saw her.

Hey, Madeline, I answered, embracing her. Turning towards her parents, I added, Y’all made it just in time. Mr. Fuller shook my hand and Mrs. Fuller came swooping in for a hug even quicker than her daughter had. She gushed over me until I could feel my face turning red, and, as if on cue, my dad interrupted all the evening’s conversations to let us know that dinner was served.

Flipping the last burger patty off of the grill and onto a tray, Dad called, It’s ready! Y’all come wash up and we’ll say the blessing.

All the fixin’s for the burgers are inside, Mama added. AJ passed out the plates earlier, so everyone just pick a spot – there’s a table inside for anyone who wants to get out of this heat.

Gracious remarks sounded from our guests and the chatter resumed, as kids raced to be first in line to fix their plates and their parents politely stood back. Mr. and Mrs. Fuller went to claim their spots next to my parents, but Madeline hung right with me as I fixed my burger, filled up a glass with Mama’s sweet tea, and loaded a heaping spoonful of Ms. Carmen’s banana pudding onto my plate. We sat at one of the patio tables with most of the rest of the kids, and Madeline was just a little too eager to grab my hand when it was time to say the blessing. Before Dad could say Amen, I could feel her drawing little circles on the back of my hand with her thumb. As we opened our eyes to eat, I avoided eye contact with her, trying to act oblivious to whatever she was doing.

I’d known Madeline my whole life, and she had always been friendly, but lately I’d noticed she was becoming more and more flirty towards me. It was like we couldn’t be around each other anymore without her doing something to suggest she was starting to feel more than friendship towards me – her pulling me in for the hug first and holding on a half second too long, giggling at something I said that wasn’t even intended to be funny, paying me compliments that she never had before. It suddenly seemed that she was much more concerned with what I was doing, where I was, and who I was with than she had been previously, and to the point that it felt odd, almost overbearing. Hoping she wasn’t looking, I snuck a glance in while she was sipping her tea. She has gotten pretty, I thought, and we’re so much alike. Oh, and our parents would be overjoyed if we ended up together.

And then I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I quickly pulled it out, Madeline watching me carefully. I saw her crane her neck slightly to look at the phone screen, and she read the name at the exact same time as I did.

Carrie Wardlaw.

And suddenly, all my gentleman-like manners disappeared, all my melancholy thoughts of earlier were gone, and Madeline wasn’t even a consideration. A phone call from Carrie could take me away, just like that.

I pushed back from the table without excusing myself and headed quickly back inside my house, slipping downstairs, unnoticed.

CHAPTER 2

I’m home! Carrie squealed as soon as I answered.

How was your trip? I asked, pacing my room the way I do when I’m on the phone.

Great, she breathed. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Can I come over tonight?

Of course! I answered, maybe a little too excitedly. But we are having a cookout, so it might have to be a little later than usual. Sneak in just like always.

Midnight? she asked.

Midnight, I affirmed, grinning from ear to ear and I knew she could hear my smile through my voice. I looked in the mirror after we hung up and shook my head at myself. I was far too excited to see her, but I didn’t care.

The rest of the evening could not have dragged on any slower. Suddenly completely disinterested in the cookout, I was bored and the anticipation of seeing Carrie was killing me. I tried to be polite and still make conversation with Madeline, but my mind was obviously elsewhere and I probably seemed distant. Nobody else noticed my preoccupation – the kids were busy splashing around in the pool or running around with the football and the adults were busy laughing over stories of the good ole days. Madeline, however, was clearly bothered. She joined me as I got up from the patio table and moved to the porch swing to watch the Braves game on TV. When it wasn’t football season, baseball would usually suffice around here.

They’ve had a little too much to drink, Madeline prompted, gesturing towards the tables of parents and family friends. If my mom has a couple more margaritas, we’re gonna be carrying her home.

Not like it hasn’t happened before, I laughed. Good thing y’all live next door – it has sure come in handy all these years at all these parties.

She laughed harder than she should have. I turned my attention back to who was up to bat on the big screen as she turned to face me. I love your shirt, she said, reaching out to lightly touch my arm. Blue is your color.

Thanks, I responded, feeling like I should say something more but not knowing what to say. I smiled at her, realizing she probably needed to be reassured that I was paying any attention to her at all. I probably should go clean up a little bit, I added, looking for something to pass the time that didn’t involve forced interaction with Madeline. I rocked forward and slid off of the porch swing, looking back to