Release

by Aly Martinez

  He glared at me a lot at first.

  Which made me laugh.

  Which made him smile.

  Which made my cheeks get hot.

  Which made his smile fall as he asked if I was feeling okay.

  Which made me snap at him to shut up and get back to work.

  Which made him laugh and started the vicious circle all over again.

  When we got our final report cards in May, Ramsey had one B, three Cs, a D, and a ticket to sixth grade. We partied hard that night. Okay, fine, we sat at our tree, arguing if it was too late to change Sir Hairy’s name or not. I was having some serious regrets about that one. We settled on dropping the Sir part.

  And that was pretty much how things went for us over the next few years.

  As time passed, we got even closer. Older. Feelings that had nothing to do with friendship started to develop. When I was twelve, I started seeing Ramsey in a different light. I finally had to admit to myself that I like-liked him, which meant I immediately told him. There were no secrets between us. Not even that I thought he was cute and got jealous as hell when earlier that day he’d chosen to pair up with Tiffany Martin for science lab.

  I assumed Ramsey like-liked me too when, two seconds after I’d told him how I felt, he’d jumped out of the tree—thankfully without breaking my leg—sat down beside me, and bumped me with his shoulder, stating, “About time. I knew the Tiffany thing would get you.”

  “She’s such a snob.”

  He threw his arm around my shoulders. “She really is.”

  Later that weekend, Ramsey asked me to be his girlfriend.

  Okay, maybe asked was an overstatement. We’d been playing baseball with the guys when a new kid wandered over and laughed that there was a girl on the mound. I’d just gotten my glove off, ready to hurl it at his head, when Ramsey yelled, “Shut the hell up. She’s my girlfriend.”

  He looked at me.

  I looked at him.

  We both shrugged and then I struck the new kid out—twice.

  While our friendship was no secret, our new label set the seventh-grade girls on fire. It didn’t change us in the least. He wasn’t writing me poems or bringing me flowers or anything. He did, however, still sit with me on the bus every day and pound down my door every Saturday morning after my dad left for work. He and Nora would bring over a box of cereal and I’d provide the milk and bowls. We’d spend the morning watching cartoons, the afternoon exploring the woods, and the nights sneaking around in the shadows, scaring the crap out of each other.

  That was who we were. Simple, average, yet utterly extraordinary.

  The normal “us” changed all over again a year later.

  “Thea, you in there?”

  “Go away!” I yelled inside the bathroom.

  This was not happening. No way. No how. It was not happening.

  “Nora told me she thinks you started your period. Good news, you probably won’t die from that.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned on the sink. Jesus Christ, it was really happening.

  It had started as a regular old day. Ramsey had shown up early that morning, cussing about his dad’s girlfriend getting high and eating all the cereal. He’d stolen some of my Cap’n Crunch, and then while I was getting dressed, he spent the next ten minutes yelling down the hallway about why the cartoon guy on the box had never been promoted. Same old, same old.

  Oh, but Mother Nature had other plans for me that day.

  We rode our bikes out to the park near the school, where there was a massive pick-up game of dodgeball happening. Not to brag, but also to brag, Ramsey and I made a pretty badass team on the court. We were in the middle of destroying Josh Caskey and Nathan Pollard when the game suddenly came to a screeching halt.

  “What the fuck is that on your pants?” Josh yelled, jumping to the side as I hurled a ball at his head.

  Positive it had been a ploy to make me drop my guard, I grabbed another ball and chucked it at him. “Shut up, idiot.”

  No one fired back.

  There were chuckles as the herd of teenage boys congregating around us began elbowing each other and pointing at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I looked over at Ramsey.

  He was frozen. Eyes wide. Mouth hanging open. His face pale and filled with horror as he stared at my shorts.

  They were white cotton, by the way.

  Clearly, I’d yet to get back in God’s good graces.

  The laughing got louder, and panic and embarrassment ricocheted inside me, but through it all, Ramsey never moved. That’s right. Half of the boys in junior high were laughing at me, and my best friend, my freaking boyfriend, said nothing.

  I took off at a dead sprint, grabbing my bike on my way past, never slowing as I swung my leg over it and peddled home as fast as two bald tires could carry me.

  So, there I was, hiding in my bathroom, knowing I’d just started my period.

  Embarrassed that the whole school would know about it on Monday.

  Wanting to crawl into a hole and die because Ramsey knew.

  Fighting the desire to punch the wall because Ramsey had known and done nothing but stare at me.

  And feeling more alone than ever because I didn’t know what the hell to do about any of it.

  My mom would have known though. I still missed her like crazy, but thinking about her didn’t eat me away anymore. However, it was times like that when I would have given anything for just one more conversation with her.

  “Go away!” I yelled when he knocked at the door again.

  “Come on, Sparrow. Open up.”

  I’d long since given up on fighting the nickname. He didn’t use it in public, and truth be told, I liked it a lot when he’d whisper it real sweet when he left each night.

  But that was neither here nor there at the moment.

  “I think we should break up,” I told the bathroom door.

  He barked a laugh that infuriated me that much more. “Quit telling jokes and come out of there.”

  I yanked the door open an inch and pressed my lips to the opening. “I’m not joking. You’re the worst boyfriend in history. You just stood there while everyone laughed at me.”

  His smile fell. “Thea, I…”

  “Just go home, Ramsey.” I slammed the door again, putting my back to it as I listened to the boards creak under his heavy steps. I waited for the front door to close, but either he’d climbed out the window or hadn’t left at all. I was betting on the latter.

  “Put these on,” he rumbled, suddenly reappearing on the other side of the door.

  His voice had gotten deeper recently. It had been preceded by a few months of cracks and squeaks, but I wasn’t a jerk who laughed at him when it happened. And you better believe I would have leveled anyone who had.

  Ramsey didn’t have much need for protection from me though. He’d grown several inches since we started eighth grade and was easily over six feet tall. He didn’t participate in any of the organized sports our school offered, but the two of us spent more than enough time outside playing whatever sport was in season with the other kids in the neighborhood to add bulk to his once lanky frame.

  I, on the other hand, had grown approximately one inch, still had no boobs, and closely resembled the offspring of a flamingo and a mongoose. Okay, so maybe on top of this ridiculous period business, I was starting to feel slightly insecure about my relationship with Ramsey.

  Whatever the case may be, I was still positively fuming as I screamed, “Go home!”

  “You know, I didn’t take you for a girl who would wear pink hearts on their underwear. They’re kinda cute though.”

  My eyes bulged and I yanked that door open so fast that you would have thought the room caught fire. “What are you doing!”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief, but his face was serious. “I got you some shorts and underwear. Change and then come talk to me. Nora will be back soon. I gave her cash to ride her bike to the gas station and buy you some…well, whate
ver it is that girls need”—he pointed to my shorts but kept his gaze firmly locked with mine—“for that kind of thing.”

  If I hadn’t been so embarrassed that I was contemplating how I was going to convince my father that we needed to move to California, I would have laughed. However, I was that embarrassed and suddenly realizing that the continental United States wouldn’t be far enough away for this kind of mortification. So I snatched the clothes from his hand, slammed the door, and turned the shower on.

  By the time I got out and retrieved the bag of Nora’s gas station shopping spree from the doorknob, I’d cooled off a bit. Just enough for the guilt over how I’d talked to Ramsey earlier to sink in. I still wanted to lock myself in my bedroom and hide from the world, but that wasn’t how Ramsey and I worked. We were a team who faced our problems, apparently even the biological kind, together.

  “Hey,” I whispered when I found him sitting on the couch, staring at the blank screen on the TV.

  He immediately stood up and turned to face me. “You okay?”

  I’d expected my Ramsey Stewart special grin, but what I got was the same pale-faced boy who had been frozen on the dodgeball court.

  I padded over to him, studying him closely. “That depends. Are you okay?”

  He gave his head a twitch to clear the hair from his eyes. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Because you’re giving me the ‘oh my God, I’m freaking out’ puke face. I can’t decide if I should take this personally because of what happened or if maybe—” That was all I got out before he reached out with both hands and dragged me into his chest.

  Now, it should be noted that Ramsey and I weren’t all that affectionate with each other. We high-fived. He sat close when we needed to whisper about someone. And on occasion, he’d hold my hand while we hung out at the tree. But that was as far as things had gone—at least physically. Emotional intimacy was a different story.

  His whole body was tight as he held me, our fronts flush top to toe.

  “What are you doing?” I mumbled against his chest.

  He gathered me even closer until I was unable to move. Not that I was really trying to get away or anything. We’d shared a few pretty awesome hugs over the years. This one was no exception.

  “I’m sorry, Thea. You’re right. I shouldn’t have just stood there, but I saw all that blood and I freaked out. I thought something was wrong. I know your mom died and thought maybe you had the same thing she did.”

  I craned my head back to catch his gaze, but he was hunched over with his face buried in my neck. “You thought my mom died from having her period? What the heck? I told you she had cancer, like, a million times.”

  “I know. I know. But you were bleeding, like a lot. I thought maybe that’s how it started and then you were going to die too. I can’t lose you. Oh God, Thea. I just can’t.”

  Abandonment. It was Ramsey’s biggest fear. He’d never come right out and said it, but even as a kid, I could read between the lines.

  When we’d sit in the tree after dark and he couldn’t see me, he’d often call out, “You still down there, Sparrow?” He’d ask like I was going to randomly disappear at any minute.

  The world could have fallen out of orbit and plunged into a black hole and I still never would have left his side.

  Secretly, I loved the way Ramsey needed me. At least someone did. The words had never been uttered between us, but we loved each other. Fierce. Patient. Unconditional. Which was probably why it scared him so much. I understood how he felt because it scared the hell out of me too.

  It probably wasn’t the healthiest mentality, but the two of us were a pair of wings. One was worthless without the other.

  “I sound like an idiot, don’t I? Just tell me to shut up.”

  A blanket of warmth enveloped me as I snuggled deeper into his arms. “You’re not an idiot. Don’t say that.”

  “Okay, but you’re right. I am the worst boyfriend in history. Tomorrow I’ll kick the ass of anyone who laughed at you, I swear.”

  I giggled. “That’s a lot of ass kicking.”

  His head popped up, and thankfully, the color was starting to return to his face. His eyes flicked between mine as he whispered, “Don’t scare me like that again.”

  “I hear it’s a once-a-month thing. But I can promise I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

  A chill went down my spine as his gaze dipped to my mouth. “Swear to me.”

  “I swear. It’s me and you forever, Ramsey.”

  “I swear too.”

  His voice only became more urgent. “I can’t do this without you.”

  “Do what?”

  He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Breathe.”

  It was one simple word, but it held the weight of a thousand promises. We were two lonely people who relied on each other. We’d never been brainwashed enough to believe that the world wasn’t a horrible place. We’d been disenchanted with the beauty of life since the day we’d met. But we had each other. That was the one constant we needed for happiness.

  He stared deep into my eyes. Searching. Imploring. Vowing things I’d never be able to understand as a kid. But my sweet Ramsey was silently promising them to me all the same.

  And I loved him for it more than an entire dictionary of words could adequately express. The beat of my heart though. That was where the truth was always found. And mine was thundering in my chest under his scrutinizing gaze. As if it had a mind of its own, my tongue snaked out to dampen my lips.

  That was all the invitation Ramsey needed. As he held my gaze, his lips came down, oh so gently brushing across mine.

  Yes, I was his girlfriend.

  Yes, he was a fourteen-year-old boy.

  Yes, a lot of the other kids at school were already making out—a few had even graduated to talking about sex.

  Was I prepared in any way, shape, or form for Ramsey to kiss me? Nope.

  However, one taste of Ramsey Stewart and the tomboy inside me who was kissing her best friend was silenced by the shriek of a teenage girl.

  His lips were soft.

  His tongue was timid.

  And his hands were gentle as they glided up my back.

  Compared to the frenzied passion we’d later discover with each other, that kiss was tame.

  But with that first kiss, Ramsey sealed our promises. Promises that would change us for the better, for the worse, and for everything in between.

  Unfortunately for us, not long after that, the worse became all we knew.

  “Oh my God, are you seriously going to be weird now?”

  “I’m not being weird,” I lied. I was totally being weird.

  “Bullshit,” he mumbled under his breath. But Ramsey being Ramsey changed the subject. “So, where are we going on our tenth trip?”

  Staring up at the fabric ceiling, I pretended to play it cool. “We might be able to afford to fly by then. Dallas or LA?”

  “LA. And I’d rather go to Austin than Dallas. I’ll get us both fake IDs and we can hit the bars.”

  “We’ll both be old enough to drink by the time we take our tenth trip.”

  “Not if I can get a job at the factory when I graduate next year.”

  He wasn’t getting a job at the factory—mainly because I wouldn’t let him. We had plans. Big plans that involved us getting the hell out of Clovert and traveling the world. We’d been making a schedule of our trips for the last six months. I had a Ramsey-and-Thea notebook and everything. It contained a budget and a list of things we would need. We’d thought of everything including Nora, who was going to move with us and finish up high school wherever our feet landed. The world was just on the other side of the horizon for us.

  So, no, Ramsey was not working at the Clovert meat packing plant. Being that I was naked and all, now was not the time to have that argument with him though.

  “Okay, eleventh trip. New York or Seattle?” I asked.

  “Paris.”

  I rolled my gaze his way. “We won’t be a
ble to afford Paris yet.”

  “Nah. But it made you finally look at me.” He grinned like the cat who ate the canary.

  “Stop smiling,” I ordered, dragging the blanket up to cover my body.

  “No can do, Sparrow. I’m afraid this thing might be permanent now.” He rolled to his stomach, the tips of his fingers grazing my breast as he pulled the blanket down.

  “Ramsey!” I slapped his hand away.

  “Oh, come on. I was just taking a little peek.” He winked and then kissed my bare shoulder. “It’s the least you can do after all the filthy things you just did to me.”

  “So they’re filthy now, huh? Guess that means you’ll never want to do it again?”

  Curling his arm around my waist, he flipped to his back and dragged me on top of him. “Now, I didn’t say all that.”

  It was Ramsey’s seventeenth birthday. While finally caving in to the constant desire to tear his clothes off probably wasn’t what my father intended when he’d loaned me twenty bucks to buy Ramsey a gift, it was definitely what my guy had wanted. I was one of the lone hold-outs in eleventh grade. I didn’t particularly care that stupid Tiffany Martin and Thomas Vaughan had been going at it like animals since sophomore year. Ramsey and I were on our own schedule. It wasn’t a competition or anything. Unlike Tiffany, I actually intended to spend the rest of my life with Ramsey, so there was no rush.

  With as much time as we spent together (read: every waking minute and a few times he’d snuck into my room at night and accidentally fallen asleep in my bed), waiting had been hard. A year earlier, he’d saved up enough money to buy a broken-down sedan, which I’m almost positive had a cameo in the Bible.

  With wheels came freedom.

  And with a back seat came temptation.

  I’m not too proud to admit that Ramsey and I did our fair share of “parking.” He was a gorgeous almost-man. And I was a reasonably attractive almost-woman. But we never took it past the front seat. He didn’t complain, either. If I threw on the brakes, Ramsey was there nodding like a fool and backing away like I’d caught leprosy.

  It was time though. I wanted to be with Ramsey in every way I could be, and his birthday seemed perfect. The planning and lies that had gone into that night were astronomical.