Dutch flicked the button free and inched the zipper down. He pushed his hand down inside the denim. “Mercy.” The word slipped out, meaning nothing to him.
“Huh?”
“You need to let me go.” I tried to step to the side, but I lost one of my shoes.
“Lexie, baby.” His eyes sagged in a heavy trance. “Don't leave me hangin’. I need you so bad it hurts.”
To the right, a door slammed open catching us both off-guard. Darcy came out wearing only a tight, white t-shirt and hot pink panties. I could see through both of them. “Get your purvey hands off her jackass.”
She pulled me toward the room, giving Dutch no option but to back off or fall down. They exchanged a wordless conversation of angry attraction. In that moment, I was positive there was truth behind the theory that Dutch and Darcy had hooked up at some point in the dirty past of Rochellas.
“Mind your own damn business,” Dutch growled in her face.
Darcy let loose a string of expletives and slammed the door. Tequila swirled around in my stomach as I collapsed on my bed. Good save, even if it came from her twisted jealousy. Darcy threw the lost shoe in my direction and stormed back out into the hallway in those pink panties, slamming the door again.
Alone in the cheap room, I contemplated the events of the evening. The dark-haired boy invaded every translucent thought circling in my tequila filled brain. In a moment of weakness, I picked up my phone and waited for his familiar sound to float through the buzzy rings.
“Alex?” Hearing is sleepy voice, I felt like I’d slipped on my favorite sweatshirt from a bottom drawer. A warm, peaceful feeling spread from my chest through the rest of my body.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“What time is it?”
“It’s really late.”
“Somethin’ wrong?” His voice got a little more alert. In the background, I heard the rustling of sheets as he sat up in his bed. I knew they were blue sheets. He was sitting in bed, shirtless, against his blue sheets, pushing his dark hair off his forehead.
“No, I…” My nails dug into my palm. “I was just thinking about some stuff.”
“Are you out in the woods this late alone?”
“No, I’m actually…I’m with Darcy.” It wasn’t a total lie, but I couldn’t tell Jess I was in New Orleans.
“Everythin’ ok?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Sorry, I know it’s late. I’ll let you go.”
The line held a pause. I pictured those troubled eyebrows contemplating the real purpose of my call in the middle of the night. Jess would worry and stay awake, tossing around after I hung up. Stupid drunk calling. I just wanted to hear his voice, and the alcohol let my guard down.
“You can call me anytime, Al,” he whispered on the other end of the phone. “I don’t care how late it is.”
“I know, but you have to get up early.”
“I do but I don’t care. Talk to me, Al. What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. I’m just waiting on Darcy while she um, calls someone.”
“I hear it in your voice.” He sounded so sweet and it grabbed me in the chest.
“I’m just tired.”
“Ok.” The line was silent and then he whispered, “I miss you, Al.”
My eyes closed, hearing his voice swirl around in the darkness. “I miss the sound of your voice…your beautiful face. I miss your laugh.” I forgot I was in New Orleans as I listened to his sleepy, pancake syrup coated words. “The way you act all mad but still smile at me. I miss the way your lips turn up a little on the right side…when you’re tryin’ to tease me back. Do you even know you do that?”
“No,” I whispered.
“It’s how I know when you’re lyin’ too.”
“I don’t lie.”
“No?” He chuckled in a deep voice. “I miss this…I miss talking to you…watchin’ your lips move. I miss that freckle right next to the bottom one…the way it’s sorta on your skin and your lip. Makes me want to kiss it…taste it.”
“Jess…” I whispered, feeling my skin burn in a way that only he could make happen.
He let out a deep breath. “I know, I’m not supposed to say that stuff. I just wish summer was over. I miss…seeing you.”
“I know.” I swallowed hard. “Goodnight, Jess.”
“Ok…I’ll let you go. Night, Alex.”
We stayed on the phone a good minute, listening to each other breathe until I finally hung up. The pounding in my chest vibrated in my ears, thanks to the alcohol. In the hazy buzz, I pictured his sweet face and blue eyes, and those pink lips that felt so good when he kissed me. I whispered out loud in the dark, empty room what I couldn’t say to him on the phone.
“I miss you too.”
Chapter 30
When I was nineteen…
I sat at the pool, watching Dutch pretend to monitor the kids. He took another swing out of a flask then grinned at me. After we returned to Rochellas, Dutch and I had resumed as flirting friends, but things were different. Guilt ate into every free moment, making it all feel terribly wrong. I remained confused about the past and what to do about the future. It lurked around every turn of the shadowy woods. Once again Jess was not here; yet he was everywhere, haunting my resolved to set him free.
The gate banged closed, catching my attention. I slipped off my sunglasses seeing Franny from the main office. “Hey, some guy named Jess called for directions off the highway. He was at the main turnoff. Should be here in like ten minutes.”
I jumped out of my chair, knocking my sunglasses in the pool. No! Oh, crap, no! A violent attack of nausea kicked in my stomach.
“Who’s Jess?” Dutch asked from his chair.
I struggled to get the flimsy cover over my suit. “He’s um.” I couldn’t even get my flip flops on my feet. “He’s…someone from high school. We grew up together.”
“You’re from Abilene, right?”
“No, Arlis. Um, I’ve gotta go.”
I sprinted out the gate toward the parking lot. Why did I call Jess! Stupid, stupid, drunk, idiotic, phone call summed this visit to Rochellas. This was bad in so many ways.
I was out of breath and panting as I watched his white truck pull into the parking lot. Maybe I could tell him I’m too sick for visitors and then throw up in front of him. It wouldn’t take much; the nausea was about to choke me. He parked in an empty spot. I gritted my fingers into my palms. The tattoo! I wrapped the towel around my wrist, just as he climbed out of the truck.
Jess smiled, and I felt a quick stab of pain in my chest. He looked good. Jess always got darker in the summer and it made his blue eyes even brighter. His arms slipped around my waist in a hug, lifting my feet up from the gravel. My whole body was touching him, feeling him, until Jess placed me back down.
“So…surprise?” He grinned at me.
“I know. You should have called.”
“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” His eyes flickered over my clothes, which were virtually see-through. “You swimmin’ now?”
My fingers clenched the towel draped over my left wrist. I felt nervous. “No, I just um, sit at the pool sometimes.”
“Well you must do it a lot. You look good, Al.”
“Thanks.” My fingers fidgeted around again, feeling a loss for words. “Well, I guess grab your stuff. We can drop it off and then I’ll give you the glamorous tour.”
“Glamorous? I thought you said it smelled like swamp shit here.”
“It does, but um…I guess it’s better than your arm pit of death after being on the tractor.”
“Jerk.” Jess reached over and whacked me on the arm. He grinned at me and it almost felt normal. In the distance, I saw Dutch walking back from the pool. The spiral of apprehension returned when I realized the inevitable; they would meet, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Jess followed me down the trail to the dorms. He chattered, and I half listened to some stupid story about Skeeter. He claimed to see Jesus that afterno
on in the murky creek bed as he lay passed out from his fall. Skeeter had wandered into Main Street Church last Sunday, and sat right down on the third pew, making Mrs. Ida Flemming and Mrs. Crawford scoot to the middle of the row. The ladies watched Skeeter with wide eyes, fanning themselves as they were bumped from the very spot they’d occupied for the last forty years.
“It was funny. One of the usher’s dropped the offerin’ plate, and it hit the wood floor.” He stopped walking and looked at me. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine. No snarky comment ‘bout Skeeter. I thought it would make you laugh.”
“I’m laughing.” I smiled at him. “Why don’t you wait here. I’m going to change then we can eat dinner before your tour.” I hoped if we went early, maybe we could avoid the rest of them.
I rushed Jess through the food line, practically throwing things on his tray. We settled at a spot in the back corner, far from my usual table I shared with Dutch, Brecken, and Darcy.
“You’re not sayin‘ much,” Jess commented, while I scanned the room again for signs of Dutch.
“It’s been a long week. I’m surprised you’re attempting to eat that.” I gestured toward his burger.
“I know. Caroline has me spoiled. You know she’s got one of the girls bringin’ me food out to Sprayberry.”
“What kind of tip gets that service?”
“You should know,” he winked.
I scanned the room again, just in time to see Dutch walk in the side entrance. He spotted me immediately and waved in our direction. I sat frozen in place, fork in mid-bite.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“What um,” I muttered. I couldn’t even speak as I watched Dutch get closer and closer to our table with Brecken.
“Hey Lexie.” Brecken reached for our usual high five. Shit! I held a palm up, keeping my eyes away from Jess. Dutch sat down next to me while Brecken pulled a chair up on the other side by Jess.
“I’m Dutch and the guy with serial killer beard is Brecken.”
“Jess,” he grunted, shaking both of their hands. So far, so good, but I knew it was just the beginning.
“You grew up with Lex?” Dutch asked as he put an arm around my shoulders, letting his hand linger a moment against the back of my neck.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” His eyes moved from me then over to Dutch, trying to piece together something that wasn’t clear yet.
“Cool. Cool.” Dutch reached over with his fork to grab my discarded tomatoes from my plate. He raised the bun of his burger to mash them inside. “Sorry man, I hate to say you picked a really dull time to visit. Lex, you should have invited him to Bourbon Street last weekend with us. Now that was some fun shit.”
“You were in New Orleans. Last Saturday.” The words came not as a question, but a dead pan accusation.
“Yeah…um…briefly.” I wasn’t sure what to do at this point. The tension inside my head felt as if it would explode, leaving bits of brain matter across the table.
“Where do you work at the camp?” Jess glared at Dutch.
“I’m a lifeguard. Poolside, not lake.”
“You work at the swimmin’ pool.” Jess looked back at me. He knew.
“Best damn job here. Little work and everyone likes to hang out with you. Right Lexie?”
I swallowed hard, not answering.
“Hey, pass me the ketchup.” Dutch tapped my hand. I reached up and grabbed the bottle, forgetting about my exposed wrist.
Jess yanked my arm across the table, staring at the inked design. His jaw clenched tight. "We need to talk. Now!" That last word came out as a low growl. His eyes burned from just a few feet away. I’d never seen him so angry at me.
“Ok.”
Getting out of my seat, I went to the door, feeling his presence right behind me. I never looked back the entire trip down the dirt path to the lake. I took a deep breath and sat down on a log, expecting him to join me. He paced around the trail.
“Why don’t you sit down.” I tried to keep my voice even. This would be a fight. We both knew it, but maybe I could calm him down.
“What are you doin’ here?” His voice was so deep, so angry.
“I don’t understand.”
“Don't play dumb. You're the smartest person I know. What are you doin'? This camp and these people. Who the hell is Lexie?”
“It's just a camp nickname, Jess. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“That Dutch guy not mean anythin’ either?”
“We’re friends.”
“Right. Guys like him are not just friends. I don’t like him and he reeked of pot.” The disgusted sneer on his lips broke through my reserve of trying to keep this peaceful.
“You don’t know him!”
“I’m startin’ to think I don’t know you. It’s like you created an entire new identity.”
“It's not like that.”
“I don't know how else you would explain it.”
“It wasn't intentional…it just…sort of happened.” I could see that was the wrong answer to his question. Jess crossed the distance between us and yanked my arm up, shoving it close to my face.
“That tattoo just sort of happen too, or was it his idea?”
“It’s just a tattoo and I drew it. It’s one of my pictures.”
“I have your pictures. That's not one of ‘em.” He let go of my arm, throwing it out like a dirty rag.
“Jess, don’t be this way.” His eyes followed every curve of my body from my hair down to my gray tennis shoes. I felt a little exposed under the radar of scrutiny. Was he looking for another permanent embellishment on my body or something else deeper?
“I have to know.” His pushed his hair back off his forehead. “Is this what you meant last summer? When you fed me that bullshit. Is this what you really wanted? This place and these people and pretendin’ to be someone else?”
“Maybe I want to forget about who I am. Just for a little bit. Being here around these people…I haven't felt like poor, pathetic Alex. It was nice.”
“You can't just erase your past.”
“Why can't I?”
“You just can’t. Because it erases…” The realization died on his lips.
“You?”
“Yes. You can’t pretend I don’t exist. That we aren’t us. I told you I would wait for you.”
“I told you not too. You kissed me. It was nice. We decided to be just friends. End of story.”
“Bullshit!”
“No, it’s not.”
“It’s complete bullshit and you know it!”
“You’re right. It’s bullshit because you haven’t been some angel waiting around for me. You were with other people too.”
“Other people? You mean the assigned sorority pledges for date parties? Damn it, Alex! Those were not choices. Those were not other girls. I haven’t been with any other girl since I told you how I felt.”
“You have got to be kidding me! Dutch is no different than your other girls.”
“Nothin' happened with them and you know it. Stop tryin’ to make excuses. Stop tryin’ to deny you’ve done absolutely nothin’ with a guy like that. Al, come on.”
“Don't Al me!” I jumped up and stood just a few inches from his face.
“Fine, Lexie, or whatever the hell your name is!” His nostrils flared as he continued to shout in my face. “We are apart for one summer and your common sense goes down the shitter. You apparently don't seem to care ‘bout what I think or feel. I thought we had an understandin’ ‘bout our future.”
“We are not together. There is no our future.”
“It's been we since we were eight!” The smell of his breath came with fine drops of spit landing on my cheeks. I didn't budge. Each syllable of his words seemed to leave a lingering echo in the trees.
“My friend. That's it.” My body stayed planted right in his face as I stressed the painful words back. “That was our understanding. You can’t tell me who else I can be f
riends with. It's none of your business.”
“It’s my business because you are supposed to be with me…you’re mine!”
“Damn it! You don't own me, Jessup Mason! Not you or your damn parents. No one does.”
“Shit! I didn't mean it that way.”
“There's no other way to mean that.” My body shook with each ragged breath. The anger consumed my emotions, causing my palms to clench tight.
“Ok, fine. I meant it that way. I'm not gonna deny it. But there’s still the part of you that’s my friend. I'm tryin' to look out for you, but you’re makin' it damn near impossible.”
“You aren’t looking out for me. This is not about us being friends. You are trying to dictate what I do here.”
“What exactly are you doin’ here? Tryin’ to prove some point? Is this really what you want? Someone like Dutch? Some pot-smoking asshole? You do that now too, Lexie? You smoke a little then fuck him?”
“Shut up!” I yelled, cutting him off.
“What? You don't like the truth thrown in your face? Hit a nerve, Lexie?” he sneered. “How’d it make you feel, knowin’ you were wedged right in between half the other girls he had this summer? All the pathetic morons who fell for his lies that made them feel special. Did that get rid of all those sad feelin’s of being poor Alex and your horrible past of havin’ nowhere to go so you were forced to live at Sprayberry with me.”
“Stop it!” I couldn’t believe he would be so mean, bringing up the very thing that haunted me. “You’re being a complete asshole. I don't even know who you are right now, Jess.”
“Don't know who I am? Really? You are so unbelievable. You created an entire new identity to be with someone else.”
“You act like I'm some commune-brainwashed druggie slut.”
“Your words, not mine, but that pretty much sums it up,” he spat back.
I felt so angry even my skin hurt; my fingers balled up into fists. “You have no idea how much I hate you right now.”
“Feelin’ is mutual.”
“No one asked you to come here.”
“Well, I guess you’re right on that one. I thought you would be happy to see me after you made that phone call. Now, I know it came from New Orleans where you went with him. Waste of time and gas drivin' halfway across the state to see if you were ok.”
The Mason List Page 21
