The Nice Boxset

by Jasinda Wilder

  “Dad, we’re careful,” Kyle said. “I promise. We’re protected.”

  My parents were staring hard at me, so I felt the need to speak up. “I’m on birth control, okay? I have been since we…you know, started. And we use protection. No unplanned pregnancies here, okay? Can we stop talking about this now, please?”

  “God, that would be great,” Kyle muttered.

  “How long has this been going on?” my dad asked.

  Kyle and I exchanged glances again.

  “I don’t know if that’s important or not, sir,” Kyle said.

  “Of course it’s important,” Dad said, his voice gruff and threatening, fixing Kyle with his sternest CEO-glare. “She’s my daughter. How long?”

  I was glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that look; it was scary as hell.

  Kyle lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne, but I really feel like that’s between Nell and me.” Kyle stood up, and I stood with him, and of course everyone else followed suit. Kyle addressed my father once more. “I haven’t discussed my relationship with Nell with any of my friends, and with all due respect, sir, I’m not going to discuss it with you. It’s private.”

  My father nodded and extended his hand to Kyle, and they shook. “Good answer, son. I don’t like it, because that means it’s probably been going on longer than I care to think about. But I do respect you for keeping your business private. Protecting my baby’s reputation and all that.”

  Kyle nodded. “I love your daughter, sir. I’d never do anything to hurt her, or embarrass her. Or you guys and my parents.”

  I threaded my fingers through Kyle’s, proud of him. My dad could be intimidating. I’d gone with Dad to work a few times recently, as I was planning on majoring in business at Syracuse, and I’d seen him use that same hard glare and gruff voice on his employees. Invariably, the unfortunate person on the receiving end had been quaking in their boots and had fairly tripped over themselves to do exactly as my dad asked. Glancing at Mr. Calloway, I could see he was proud of Kyle, too, for the way he’d handled the situation.

  We discussed our plans briefly, and then Kyle and I were dismissed to pack. When we were alone in my room, Kyle slumped back on my bed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

  “Holy shit, Nell. Your dad is scary.”

  I knelt astride him, leaning down to kiss him. “I know he is. I’ve seen grown-ass men almost piss themselves when Dad does that.” I bit his chin lightly. “I’m proud of you, baby. You did good.”

  He cupped my backside and moved me against him. “Do I get a reward?”

  I laughed and moved off him. “When we get up north.”

  We packed quickly, putting all of our things in one of Kyle’s extra football gear bags. It felt worldly and adult to be packing together in one bag, my things mixed with his.

  As we packed Kyle’s things into the bag, I noticed him dig something out of his sock drawer and shove it into the hip pocket of his jeans. It was small, whatever it was, and I couldn’t make out the shape. I met Kyle’s eyes inquisitively, but he just shrugged and grinned at me. I didn’t push it. I’d never known Kyle to lie to me or keep anything from me, so I wasn’t worried.

  We got in the car, and Kyle drove while I sorted the junk out of my wallet. I pulled out old receipts, ticket stubs from concerts and movies, half a dozen Starbucks and Caribou gift cards either empty or with a few cents left. I came across the note Kyle had written me over a year and a half ago. I reread it, smiling to myself. It seemed like such a long time ago now. I remembered the girl I was then, and how full of trepidation I’d been. In the year and a few months since, Kyle and I learned about each other, discovered a wonderland of pleasure in each other. He’d learned to bring me to that shivering edge and push me beyond. I’d learned the joyful comfort of lying in his arms afterward, and the drowsy drug-like high of making love in the sleepy afternoon on a summer Sunday in the sun, on a picnic blanket high up on our ridge beneath our tree.

  Kyle glanced over at me and grinned when he saw what I was looking at. “Aren’t you gonna get rid of that old thing? It’s embarrassingly sappy, if I remember right.”

  I clutched the paper to my chest, a look of horror on my face. “I’ll never get rid of it, you callous brute. I love it. It’s cute and wonderful, and it makes me smile.”

  He just shook his head and smiled at me, then turned up The Avett Brothers’ “I and Love and You,” and we held hands, listening to the song we’d made love to more times than I could count. We looked at each other and then away, sharing mutual memories of the things we’d done to that song.

  The cabin was several hours away, and of course I ended up falling asleep, not waking up until Kyle’s lips brushed mine and his voice whispered “we’re here” in my ear.

  Kyle was leaning in my car door, stroking my cheek with the backs of his fingers. I stretched languorously, ending with my arms around Kyle’s neck. “I’m too sleepy to walk. Carry me.”

  Kyle’s lips pressed kisses along my neck as I stretched, sending me into a paroxysm of giggles, and then he swept me up into his arms and lifted me effortlessly out of the car and up the three steps onto the cabin porch.

  “Keys are in my pocket,” he said.

  I dug in his pocket, pulling his keys out and sorting through them until he indicated the correct one. I unlocked the door quickly, still in Kyle’s arms. He wasn’t showing any signs of strain except for tightening in his lips. He carried me over the threshold and in through living room, then stopped at the stairs to the second floor.

  “Hold tight, baby,” he said. “We’re going up.”

  I kicked and tried to slip out of his arms. “You’re crazy. You can’t carry me upstairs!”

  He let me down, but as soon as my feet hit the stairs, he leaned into me, pressing me back into the stairs. I landed on my butt and kept going, pulling him down to my mouth. I lost myself in his kisses then, and forgot about the step gouging into my back, or the fact that my hair was caught under one shoulder against the next stair. Next thing I knew, I was in his arms again and we were moving up the stairs. I heard the strain in his breathing, but he carried me up into the master bedroom and laid me on the bed. He crawled on with me, pushing my shirt over my head, his palms stuttering on my ribs, palming my breasts. I arched into his touch and fumbled with the button of his jeans.

  We christened the hell out of that bed.

  As we lay in the afterglow, Kyle’s fingers tracing patterns on the expanse of flesh between my breasts, he turned to meet my gaze, a serious look in his eyes. “Have you decided on college?”

  We’d been discussing it on and off for a while now. We’d both taken the SAT and ACT, and had sent applications off to a dozen colleges and universities each. We’d talked about where we wanted to go, what we wanted to do. What we hadn’t done was talk about whether we were going to go to the same place. Our conversations on the subject had a kind of unstated assumption that we’d stay together and choose colleges based on somewhere we’d both go.

  I shrugged, not liking the topic. “I was thinking Syracuse. Maybe Boston College. Somewhere on the East Coast, I think. I want to major in business.”

  He didn’t answer for a few moments, which I took to mean he didn’t like my answer. “I got accepted to Stanford. They offered me a huge scholarship.”

  “Football?”

  “Yeah.”

  That much was obvious. His grades were good, but not scholarship good. He’d been approached by several different universities over the last few months. He expected more as our senior year wound down, though.

  “Stanford is in California.” My voice was unattractively flat.

  “And Syracuse is in New York.” His hand stilled on my skin. “I did get an offer from Penn State.”

  I nodded. “I guess the question is, are we making these decisions together? I mean…what if you decide Stanford is the best place for you, and I really want to go Syracuse?”

  “I don’
t know,” Kyle said, not quite sighing. “That’s what I’ve been wondering. The offer Stanford has on the table is really enticing. Penn State is pretty good, but Stanford is…Stanford.” He shrugged, as if to say there simply wasn’t any comparison.

  Long minutes passed. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to get us past this. Eventually I sat up. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m hungry.”

  Kyle sighed, as if the relief of leaving the discussion aside was a weight off his shoulders. We fired up the grill and had a lovely domestic moment grilling burgers and corn on the cob together. There was an unopened case of Budweiser cans in the pantry left over from a party held here over the summer, and we drank beer together. Neither of us were hard partiers. We would go to our friend’s get-togethers and we’d have a drink or two, but we weren’t the type to get obliterated. I’d only been drunk once, and that had been with Kyle over this past summer. We’d convinced Becca’s cousin Maria to buy us a fifth of Jack, and we’d taken it to the dock while our parents attended some political soirée.

  Being drunk had been fun up until the shots started catching up to me. I ended up puking and passing out on the dock. Kyle carried me to bed and watched me until he was sure I wasn’t going to choke on my own vomit. After that, I decided getting hammered wasn’t my thing. I had friends who seemed to live for the weekend parties, for getting drunk and hooking up.

  I had Kyle, and that was enough.

  After dinner, we built a fire in the fire pit out by the lake and went skinny dipping once the sun went down, laughing and chasing each other around the inlet. There was an island about a quarter mile out into the bay, a tiny bump of land with some scrub pines and bushes and a thin beach. Kyle and I had been swimming out to that island together since we were kids. This time, we swam out and made love on the sand, lay naked in the warm late summer air, watching the stars twinkle and shimmer, talking about nothing and everything.

  Talking about everything, but avoiding the heavy topic of the future and colleges. It was heavy on my heart, because something told me we wouldn’t come to an easy or pleasant decision. Kyle was set on Stanford. I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. I really wanted to be on the East Coast, close to the financial center of New York City. The plan was to major in business finance and get a killer internship in New York, then get a job with Dad’s company, but legitimately, working my way up with no strings pulled, no favoritism showed.

  Dad really wanted to just bring me into the boardroom as soon as I had my degree, but I was determined to do it on my own. Kyle was having a similar problem with his parents. His dad wanted Kyle to follow in his footsteps and intern in Washington, pull some strings to get him a lush political gig. Kyle wanted to stay in the athletic world. Play college ball, try to go pro, and, barring that, get into coaching. It was a sore spot, but Kyle was like me, and determined to do things his own way.

  I knew I wasn’t willing to ask Kyle to compromise on his school of choice for me. I could get the degree I wanted at a lot of different colleges, and I knew between Mr. Calloway and my dad, I could get strings pulled to get me into any college I wanted.

  I loved Kyle enough to shift my plan. Kyle was locked into accepting the best offers. He had a wealth of them choose from, so I wasn’t worried about that as much.

  I sat by the fire, wrapped in a towel, watching Kyle idly strum a guitar, staring into the middle distance, knowing I had to decide. Did I follow Kyle for love? Or did I follow my plan for the future?

  Little did I know that choice would soon be stripped away from me.

  Saturday was a lazy day spent on the pontoon boat, drinking beer and eating sandwiches, making love and listening to music on my iPod. We avoided heavy conversation and just enjoyed each other, enjoyed the rippling blue of the lake, the pale expanse of the clear sky, and the lack of expectations of each other.

  Back home, we were both chased by the image of our parents. My dad was considering running for the mayorship of our town. Kyle especially had to be careful of what he did now. With his father angling for a presidential nomination, every facet of the Calloway family was examined on a regular basis by the media. Kyle and I had to be careful not to be caught in any compromising positions, not to do or say anything to cast doubt on Mr. Calloway.

  Here, up north, no such expectations existed. It was just us.

  Sunday was stormy, so we spent the day inside watching movies. We went for an early dinner to the only nice restaurant within an hour’s drive, a fairly swank Italian place where the Calloways were well known. Kyle was greeted by name and given a table immediately, despite the crowd of waiting vacationers.

  It was another nice but slightly awkward dinner, with the coming conversation weighing on us both. I knew I had to send my official acceptance to Syracuse soon, or have our dads start pulling strings to get me into Stanford with Kyle. Time was running out. We’d put this off for too long, to the chagrin of both of our parents, and now the time had come. It was August, and the universities were starting their academic year in September.

  I opened my mouth to bring it up several times, but Kyle always seemed to head me off, as if he knew what I was about to say. We drove home in a tense silence. Kyle had his hand in the pocket of his Dockers while he drove, and he kept glancing at me, a deep, inscrutable expression on his face. We pulled up to the cabin and sat for a moment, watching fat drops of rain splatter on the windshield, listening to the wind howling outside. The huge pine trees surrounding the cabin were bending and swaying in the wind, which was approaching gale force, it seemed to me. I watched with my heart hammering as one tree in particular seemed to be bending almost double in the gusts, and I found myself tensing for the moment when it would snap and fall. With the direction the wind was blowing, if the tree did break, it would hit the house and the car we sat in.

  Kyle looked at me, and I noticed beads of sweat on his face, despite the coolness in the car. His hand gripped the steering wheel and smoothed the leather across the top, a gesture he only made when nervous or upset. I waited, knowing he’d speak up when he was ready.

  He glanced at me again, took a deep breath, and withdrew his hand from his pocket. My heart pounded in my chest as realization dawned on me. Oh, god. Oh, god. He was about to propose. No, no. I wasn’t ready for that.

  He opened his hand, and, sure enough, there was a black box, Kay Jewelers written in gold thread across the top. I bit my lip and tried not to hyperventilate.

  “Kyle? I—”

  “Nell, I love you.” His hand trembled slightly as he opened the box, revealing a half-carat princess-cut diamond ring, simple and beautiful. And terrifying. “I don’t want to spend a moment without you. I don’t care about college or football or anything. All I care about is you. We can figure out the future together.”

  He withdrew the ring and held it out to me between thumb and forefinger. Rain blatted on the windshield, and the wind howled like a banshee, gusting so hard the car rocked on its suspension. Why now? I wondered. Why here? In a car, in a rainstorm? Not in the restaurant during dinner? Not out at the fire pit where we had so many memories? My heart juddered in my chest and my eyes stung, sight wavering and blurring. My lip hurt, and I tasted the tang of blood. I forced myself to release my lip before I bit straight through it.

  “Nell? Will you marry me?” Kyle’s voice broke at the end.

  “Ohmigod, Kyle.” I choked out the words, forced the rest out. “I love you, I do. But…now? I don’t—I don’t know. I can’t…we’re barely eighteen. I love you, and I was going to tell you I’d follow you to Stanford. Dad can get me in last minute…” I shook my head and scrunched my eyes closed against the confused hurt in Kyle’s eyes.

  “Wait…” He shook his head, withdrawing the ring slightly. “Are you saying no?”

  “It’s too soon, Kyle. It’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just…” Doubts assailed me.

  I’d never dated anyone else. It wasn’t that I wanted to, necessarily. But I felt so youn
g sometimes. I’d never been away from my parents for more than a week. I’d never left home. This was the first time I’d gone somewhere without them. I wanted to experience life. I wanted to grow up a bit. I wasn’t ready to be married.

  But I couldn’t get any of this out of my mouth. All I could do was shake my head as tears fell, mimicking the rain. I pushed the car door open and stumbled out, ignoring Kyle’s shouts to wait. I was drenched to the skin in moments, but I didn’t care.

  I heard Kyle behind me, chasing me. I wasn’t running from him, but from the situation. I stopped, high heels slipping and digging into the wet gravel.

  “I don’t understand, Nell.” His voice was thick and rough with emotion, but the rain on his face obscured his features, so I couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. “I thought…I thought this was the next step for us.”

  “It is, just not yet.” I wiped my face and took a step toward him. “I love you. I really do. I love you with all my heart. But I’m not ready to get engaged. We’re not ready for that. We’re just kids still. We just graduated high school a few months ago.”

  “I know we’re young, but…you’re what I want. All I want. We could live in married housing, and…be together. Experience everything together.”

  “We can still do that. We could get an apartment together. Maybe not right away, but soon.” I turned away, frustrated with my inability to express why I wasn’t ready. “Kyle…it’s just too soon. Can’t you see that? I don’t want to be apart, either. I’ll go to Stanford with you. I’ll be with you wherever you go. I will marry you, just not yet. Give it a few years. Let’s get through college and get careers going. Grow up a bit.”

  Kyle was the one to turn away this time. He brushed his palm over his wet hair, sending a spray of water flying. “You sound like our parents. You sound like your dad. I asked him first, you know. That’s why they let us come up here. He said he wasn’t sure we were ready and he thought we needed some time to experience a bit more life, but you were legally an adult now, and if you said yes, he had no problem with us getting engaged.”