Spill Over

by Jolene Perry

  “We do these a lot, you know, come out to the ocean.” She wobbles her head back and forth like it’s the most boring thing in the world.

  “It was better than I thought.”

  Kent tightens his arm once, trying to be all relaxed about it. But how does Amber feel about him? It’s impossible to tell, and that’s making me crazy.

  Brit’s head cocks to the side, giving me a better view. “Yeah, you’re totally right, I mean…”

  “Whoa!” A voice yells. Someone’s done a stupid soda bomb out of Mentos on the far side of the fire. The group scatters. Whatever. All juvenile crap that I’m not in the mood for.

  Kent now has Amber in some sort of protective hug. He squeezes her close and kisses the top of her head, making me want to break his face. Guess she decided he was okay. And that makes it hard for me to breathe. How many times will I have to remind myself that even if we did like each other, we’re not a good idea?

  “You okay?” Brit asks.

  “Distracted.” I shake my head. We’re far enough from the fire and the Mentos bomb, that we’re not really part of the action. I lean against a large driftwood tree.

  “Right.” She nods again and bites her lower lip. “So, David’s a friend of yours.”

  “Uh, yeah.” That should be obvious.

  “Do you think he’d uh…”

  “Brit?” I take a quick drink. “David’s not up for anything more than right now, and fun. If that’s what you want. Tell him, and you’ll get it.” Is that what she’s asking?

  Her smile spreads. “Do you think he’d be into me?”

  “We went on a nature walk where he wore three hundred dollar shoes, which are probably ruined, and was next to you for most of the trip.”

  “Right.” She starts to turn. “Thanks, Antony. You’re nice.”

  “Yeah, well, tell your friend.” What the hell’s wrong with me? Tell your friend? Am I in elementary school?

  Brit giggles and jogs off toward the fire. She wastes no time in wrapping her arms around David’s waist. And he wastes no time in hugging her back.

  Brit and Amber are friends. Brit seems so relaxed about David, about guys. Why is Amber still so distant? Having someone in my arms, someone’s lips on mine sounds pretty awesome right now, and the perfect antidote to how hard everything’s been.

  Amber’s eyes catch me from about 50 feet away where she’s back by the fire. “Help,” she mouths, holding in a laugh.

  Help. She wants away. I just lost half the weight I carry. I stand up a little taller. “Hey, Amber!” I yell. “Your mom called my phone!”

  She ducks away from Kent and jogs toward me. “I think it’s a private conversation, don’t you?” she whispers.

  “Yeah.” I smile. Private sounds great. She grabs my hand and pulls me with her.

  My phone rests against her ear. “Thank you,” she says, now that we’ve walked a ways away.

  “No problem.”

  “What do I do?” She frowns.

  “About the guy who likes you?” I lean closer to whisper, just because it gives me an excuse.

  “Uh, yeah…” Her eyes widen.

  “I thought you might like him.” And we’re so close that I breathe in and stare at her lips. The ones I will probably never touch.

  Her shoulders fall. “I just…I don’t know. It feels like a lot. Maybe too much. I even tried. I mean, he’s pretty cute.”

  I almost say, if you like that kind of thing, but that would make me pathetic.

  She really feels bad that she doesn’t like this guy enough to be closer to him. To me it always seemed like, yeah, if we don’t like each other, we shouldn’t hang out. No big deal. I don’t know why it never occurred to me to feel bad. It was always just that way.

  I shift my weight closer to her as we walk. “You could kiss me, you know, if you want to. Make sure he’s around to see…”

  She chuckles and slugs my shoulder. “Whatever, Antony.”

  Yep. Depressingly in friend category. Now I get why people say this sucks. I say it because I’ve heard other people say it, not because I’ve experienced it. “Sit.” I flop down in the sand in front of a small, decrepit wooden boat.

  Amber’s still standing, and for a moment I’m afraid she won’t join me, but she does and pulls her knees up.

  The voices from the fire carry this far, but I can’t make out words. As the waves slide up on the sand, the small rocks tumble over each other creating a scattered pebble sound that intensify the calming sound of the water.

  “How ya doin’?” she asks.

  I flip my phone over in my hands, and then again. There’s no good way to answer. “That question is too full.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of everything.” I stick the damn phone in my pocket. People who fidget make me crazy.

  “You have a unique way of seeing the world, or maybe just a unique way of talking about it.” Her blue eyes study me. I don’t look, hoping she’ll look longer.

  Her words hit me like a wave of something that carries weight. Good weight. I’ve been carrying the lousy kind. “You’re pretty kickass at compliments.”

  “I bet you’re not too bad at them yourself.” She smirks.

  My tongue thickens, my throat clenches up, but I need to get it out. “You reading to me is one of the coolest things anyone’s done. You sorta saved me that night.” The words barely come out, and man they make me naked. Even though I feel like I’m on a stage stripped to less than boxers, I don’t care. But I also can’t look at her.

  “I’m glad.” She tilts her head and touches it to my shoulder for a moment before sitting upright.

  Like a total ass I breathe in to smell her hair. It smells earthy, fruity and like Washington rain.

  “You know what he really likes?” David leans over the log behind us.

  Amber spins to see the same thing I do. David and Brit’s hands locked together.

  “He loves it when girls straddle his lap and stick their tongue down his throat.” He laughs and Brit laughs, and she follows him down the beach, for…whatever he can talk her into I guess. Though, she didn’t really seem unwilling.

  I want to punch him in the face. Asshole.

  “And that’s your good friend?” Amber asks.

  Now what? Do I defend David? Do I not? “He’s an ass when he’s drinking, but he’s a good guy.”

  “Hmm.” Amber sits back and rests her head on my shoulder. I want to take her hand, run my fingers through her hair and kiss her, wrap my arms around her pull her to me, feel her warmth against me. But I can’t.

  I glance up to see Kent walking our way.

  “Don’t move until I reach out my hand.” I stand.

  She looks confused until her eyes catch him. My hand reaches down to help her up, and she takes it, coming to standing, her nose almost touching mine. And shit if I don’t breathe in again.

  “Thanks,” she whispers. Her warm breath hits my face.

  Kent turns around, as if someone called him from the group. Maybe someone did.

  Our breath mixes in the cold air, and something in me forces my body to lean in. Her lips are so close to mine. So close, like just the air could bring her to me or something.

  “You saved me from having to kiss you.” She laughs, drops my hand, and walks a step ahead.

  Okay, I should have made that a more definite plan B, or maybe I should have really pushed for the kiss to be plan A.

  I’m guessing that the more time I spend with Amber, the more I’m going to feel like she’s a step ahead.

  - - -

  David and I stand behind Amber’s boat with Amber and Brit.

  “So, I’ll see ya.” Brit bites her lip and leans toward him.

  His lips immediately find hers, and they’re not even trying to be discreet about kissing on
e another.

  Now Amber and I are left in the awkward situation of being two people who don’t kiss, next to two people who suddenly don’t need to come up for air. I’ve been that guy a lot of times, and now that I’m standing next to David and his tongue half down Brit’s throat—it’s pretty damn obnoxious. Part of me thinks, I’m me, and it was different when I did it. But it really wasn’t. It’s just that when I was the one with a girl ready to kiss me, I wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity.

  It sucks now that I’m maybe starting to see some of the things Mom was worried about when she sent me out here. I should have fought her harder, begged her to stay. It’s just another thing I’m torn about because she probably would have gone overseas anyway. The difference being that we would have been pissed at each other, instead of her excited, and me resigned.

  “Night.” Amber leans forward and puts her arms around me in a hug.

  I hold her for as long as I dare, and then back away slowly, hoping for something, anything. A kiss on the cheek. An almost-kiss. Anything. But when she pulls away she steps quickly onto the boat.

  “Come on, Brit.”

  I can’t stomach any more of them and walk up to Dad’s boat. David follows a few moments later.

  His arm goes around me, his breath still reeking of scotch. “I told ya. Amber’s hot, but you’re not getting anything. Not from her.”

  I half shove him into the boat and look back just in time to see Amber turn away and step into her mom’s boat.

  Sucks.

  - - -

  David has a car pick him up to take him to the airport at some horrible hour of the morning. I wave, way more relieved than I should be that he’s gone, and step back into the boat.

  Dad’s at the table.

  “Sorry to wake you.” I rub my face and start to my room.

  “We need to talk.” Dad has the same serious tone Mom used to have when she was upset about something. I’m not in the mood.

  “Now?” I ask. “I sort of planned on going back to bed.”

  “And you can. After we talk.”

  I’m feeling a parental lecture coming on, and I’m tired, and grouchy with David and with myself for not wanting him here more, and frustrated with Amber. I slump down on the couch around the table.

  “I don’t care if your friends are in town. You do not take alcohol from my cabinet. You’re almost eighteen. I shouldn’t need to keep that stuff locked up.”

  “What are you talking about?” I’m completely baffled.

  “My scotch.”

  Shit. David. I shake my head. “David had it. I didn’t know it was yours.”

  Dad pauses, watching me for a moment. I think he believes me. That’s good.

  “Can I go back to bed now?” I ask.

  “Almost.”

  Perfect.

  “I want to talk about Amber.”

  My chest sinks. “What?”

  His hands are fidgeting with his watch on the table. “Look, I don’t mean to pry into whatever you and Amber have going on, but don’t you have a girlfriend in New York?”

  Mom must have said something about Gem. But we’re not really together. I haven’t even talked to her. “Gem. She’s uh…friend.”

  Dad looks over his glasses at me. He’s not buying it. “Liv was pretty sure you were…sleeping together.”

  I ignore the effect that Mom’s name still has on my chest. Now I’m feeling irritated. “Having sex. Yes, Dad.”

  Now I’ve rendered him speechless. We sit in silence for a few minutes.

  “You should be in some kind of a relationship for that, Antony. It’s a big deal.”

  “So, Mom sent me here so I could get some lecture on girls? Is that it?” Anger’s replaced any other feeling I had this morning.

  Dad laughs this time. “No. I know nothing. I’m in love with the woman five boats down, and I can’t get her to commit to anything. But I’m close to both of them, and Amber’s a really, really good girl.” The way he says really, really good girl tells me that he’d probably prefer for me to keep my hands off.

  His laughter and casual tone help me to relax. “I don’t think it’s a problem, Dad. It looks like she’s about to hook up with Captain America anyway.” David crushed any chance I had by showing her the side of me she probably doesn’t like much, and she even told me last night that she’s trying to like him. That to me says that she already kind of does.

  He pauses before chuckling. “Kent.”

  I rub both hands through my hair a few times. Like pushing my hair will push Kent out of my head.

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend? Been in some kind of a relationship?” Dad asks.

  “Does it matter?” And what are the qualifications for that? Do I need to ask Will you go out with me? Cause that hasn’t happened since middle or elementary school.

  “It’s just the casualness of how you talked about Gem. Girls deserve more than that.”

  “No offense, Dad, but it’s been a while since you were seventeen. You’ve never lived in New York. Never been around the kind of girls that I have.” This is when I remember how different we are, and how he doesn’t understand my life.

  “Your mom and I lived in New York, and some things are universal. So, I’m guessing you’ve never had someone you’d qualify as a girlfriend.” His hands clasp together and rest on the table.

  I don’t say anything. My first, Hélèna, I thought we were, but she laughed when I called her my girlfriend, so we really weren’t. “You don’t need some kind of label to be together.”

  He sighs. “I have no idea what to say.”

  I shrug. It’s how things are. And the easiest way for things to be.

  “I love Lynn. I love Amber. Before you even try to do anything, if that’s where you’re headed, and from the way you look at her I’m guessing it is, please remember that. Amber isn’t like Gem. If Gem’s actually the way you think she is. Okay?”

  “I’m well aware that Amber’s not like Gem.” I stand up. If she was, I’d be trying to hide her sleeping form in my bed right now.

  “Okay.” But Dad doesn’t look appeased, and I wonder how long he’ll leave it alone.

  I lie down and stare at the beige ceiling. Why does it all have to be so hard and complicated? Why can’t Amber just like being around me and want to kiss once in a while? Why can’t I know what to do to get her there?

  Even as I have that thought, I wonder if that’s what wanting to be around her is about. Because part of me just really likes being around her, doing homework, her head on my shoulder. At the same time, her standing close to Kent grates on me. I spend a lot of time staring at her lips and her legs wondering if I’ll ever get to touch them the way I want to. And for the first time, part of me thinks I just might not be good enough for her.

  Ten

  I haul my laptop up to the coffee shop, just for some time alone. The rain hits the windows. It’s mid-afternoon, and the place is empty. My hand shakes as I open my email inbox. Five hundred unread messages. My heart drops. Five hundred?

  The most recent one comes up first. It’s from Floyd, the guy who helped manage the guests on the Today Show.

  Antony -

  I’m sure if you wanted to talk to me, you’d have emailed me or called me back already. We really want you on. Let me know. We all miss her, and it would get big coverage. We’d highlight what she wanted to talk about while in Darfur. This is a great opportunity for our loss of her to come back around.

  Thanks, Wil

  Our loss? OUR loss? It takes all my strength not to chuck my laptop across the stupid room. He has NO idea. None. I flip the top of the laptop closed.

  Dad’s walking up the street with a large smile on his face. Perfect. So much for taking care of business and being alone.

  “There you are.” Dad brushes the rai
n off his coat as he steps inside.

  “I have my phone.” He could’ve called. I sit back, resigned to my afternoon being nothing like I imagined.

  Dad sits on the edge of the seat across from me. “I got my quarterly check today. We’re going to dinner in Seattle. Sound good?”

  I’m sure I should react in some way with something positive. “Yeah, did you have somewhere in mind, or can I pick?”

  “Anywhere you want.” He slaps my shoulder before standing up.

  “Even if you have to dress?” I raise an eyebrow and chuckle.

  “Four times a year.” He laughs with me. “Or special occasions.”

  Special occasions. When will Mom’s death stop hitting me?

  “Sorry.” He shakes his head, realizing how he probably sounded. “Anywhere’s fine. And I usually go out with Lynn and Amber. Is that okay with you?”

  I jerk upright. A night out with Amber? Suddenly my interruption isn’t feeling so awful and annoying. “Fine.” I try to sound relaxed.

  “Fine.” Dad smirks. “We’ll see you when you’re done.” He points to the folded computer on my table.

  “See you.”

  As soon as Dad steps out, I start to do some research. I need to take Amber somewhere nice, somewhere cool. Someplace that’ll remind me what it’s like to be in a real city.

  - - -

  At some point in time, I’ll need to stop staring at Amber’s legs. It only worked during dinner when we all sat together, and her legs were buried under the table. Mid-thigh skirt and boots. I wonder if she has any idea how hot she is. Her hair’s up with some random strands falling down in just the right places, and her snug sweater and coat show off her waist.

  I feel better than I have in a long time. A real meal out, with an amazing view of Puget Sound and the city. I’m in my New York clothes, and not the jeans a t-shirts I’ve started to live in. Armani slacks and a button up. Feels good.

  Amber and I stand together, leaning on the railing of the ferry that’s taking us back to Kingston from the city. The night is cool. The breeze is frigid, and we’re standing close. Any other girl I’d kiss. Any other one. But she looks so peaceful and relaxed, her hands resting together in front of her, her forearms supporting her weight on the top railing. We can see the Seattle city lights behind us, and the dim flickering of Kingston ahead.