“You’re quiet,” Ellie says, leaning into my shoulder so that only I can hear her. We’re sitting in a loose semi-circle with our friends out at Kennedy Park. We’ve been coming here since I first started hanging out with Ellie four years ago. Like I told Taylor, it might seem kind of lame to hang out in a park at our age, but Kennedy has served us well over the years. It’s a massive complex, with a couple playgrounds, baseball diamonds, basketball courts, even a dirt bike course. In the back of the complex is a small nature area, and it is here that we gather in the dark, to sit on fallen logs under the trees and drink or smoke away whatever secret pains we each suffer from. No one else ever comes out here after dark, and we’ve never been caught by the cops.
“It was a long afternoon,” I say.
She leans her head against my shoulder, silently signaling to me that it’s okay to want a little contact, that no one is looking. I put my head on top of hers, closing my eyes. We don’t have a touchy-feely relationship, neither of us being the type of girl to give hugs for no reason or bestow effusive kisses on our friends. But sometimes it’s just really nice to have some kind of contact with another person. Ellie always seems to know when I need it.
“She still sleeping a lot?”
I nod against her head. Ellie knows all about my mother, one of the only people in the world who does. “I spent most of the day trying to get her to take a shower. You would have thought I was beating her, the way she cried and complained. And that was before I tried to get her to eat.”
“That sucks, Zoe,” she says simply. I always appreciate the way she doesn’t try to sugar coat the shitty aspects of my life. She never gives me platitudes, never tries to convince me that it will all be okay. She knows better.
“When I finally got her to the table, Jerry came home. And of course he had to go off on her about what a mess she was. Because that’s always snapped her out of it in the past.”
Ellie makes a scathing noise in the back of her throat. “Probably a lot of screaming, huh?”
I sigh. “From all three of us.”
We’re both quiet, staring at the lantern Everett had placed in the center of our circle. It’s crazy dark in the woods, and the dim light from the lantern casts strange shadows over the faces of my friends.
“I’m gonna bring this up again, even though I know you don’t want to hear it,” Ellie eventually says. “You need to get out of there, babe. We could get a place together—you, me, and Hunter. I know you could find a job to pay one third of the rent of a shitty little place.”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Zoe, it’s not good for you being there.”
“She needs me, El.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your job to take care of her. You’re the kid, remember? Your mom would hate it if she realized everything you’re putting up with staying there.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not up to realizing anything at the moment. Which is why she needs me.”
“Zoe—”
“Who else is going to do it, El? Jerry?” I laugh bitterly. “He’s either wasted or yelling at her most of the time. He doesn’t get her to take her medicine. He doesn’t get her to eat.” I shudder a little at the thought of what I would find in that house if I stayed away for more than a few hours at a time. “No, I’m stuck there. That’s all there is to it.”
Stuck. It is a pretty accurate representation of my life at the moment. Stuck. Trapped. Lost. However you want to put it, I’m not getting out anytime soon.
“I’m not giving up on you, Zoe,” Ellie whispers, her voice soft. “At some point you’re going to have to start taking care of yourself.”
I don’t respond. It’s not like I don’t love the idea of getting out, of living with my friends, shedding my responsibilities. But it isn’t going to happen, so what’s the point of thinking about it? I consider myself lucky that I’m even taking classes at the moment. Wishing for more has never gotten me very far.
“Hey, Zoe,” says Taylor, close to my ear.
I jump. “Holy shit,” I say, placing a hand over my heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he says, and I can just make out his grin in the dim lantern light. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. It’s pretty fucking dark out here.”
“True.”
He watches me closely. “In fact, it’s a wonder I found you at all. You didn’t mention you’d be in the woods when we talked today. It’s almost like you didn’t want me to show up.”
I duck my head a little. I did leave that information out intentionally. I was scared of the way I responded to him in the grocery store. I very nearly told him about my mom, without even thinking. By the time he left me at the register, I still hadn’t decided if it was a good idea to be hanging out with him, so I’d left the plans vague.
“I was a little distracted, I guess.” I can practically feel Ellie’s gaze boring into the side of my skull so I tilt my head in her direction. “Taylor, do you know Ellie?”
“Hey,” he says, that ever-present amused lilt clear in his smooth voice. “I’m Jet. Nice to meet you.”
Ellie’s gaze darts between the two of us. “Jet, huh? I thought Zoe said it was Taylor.”
He grins. “That’s her little pet name for me.”
I try to keep the embarrassment out of my voice. “Uh, huh. Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”
Ellie keeps looking at me even as she holds out her hand for him. “Well, Jet Taylor, I’m Ellie. It’s nice to meet you.”
He shakes her hand. “Likewise.”
“Looks like I’m out of beer,” she says, holding up her empty can. “Either of you need one?”
I shake my head, and Taylor pulls a flask from his coat pocket. “I’m good, thanks.”
Ellie pats my knee before jumping up from the log. I watch as she walks over to the cooler to get a beer, then sits with Mary. I realize that she’s not coming back, and my stomach dips. I’m alone with Taylor.
“So,” he says. “You were about to apologize for not telling me how to find you tonight.”
My mouth drops open. “How do you know I did it on purpose?” I notice a moment too late that he’s smiling.
“I was just joking.”
I give him a tentative smile back, distracted by the way the light from the lantern casts shadows over the sharp lines on his face. He’s so damn good looking. It seems incredible that we’ve lived in the same town our whole lives and never met. He is not the kind of guy I would forget.
“How did you find us?” I ask. I can’t spend the entire night just staring at him, tempting as that may be.
He points across the circle to where Everett is sitting with Hunter. “I texted Everett and asked him.”
“You guys know each other?”
Taylor nods, and I have a sinking suspicion I know how. “He’s your dealer, isn’t he?”
Taylor makes a face. “I wouldn’t say that. It’s not like I’m some big druggie, Zoe.”
I raise an eyebrow, and Taylor relents. “Fine, I buy my weed from him. Only very occasionally though.” He pauses. “How’d you know that?”
“You’re a rich kid from the other side of town. I’ve known Everett long enough to know that there’s a steady stream of kids like you crossing the tracks and making their way to his door.”
Even in the dim light, I can see Taylor is offended. “Hey, it’s not like that. I consider Everett a friend.”
I start to laugh but stop when I see that he’s serious.
“I’m not like all those assholes at the party last night, Zoe. I’m really not.”
I watch him for a minute. “I’m starting to believe you.”
That earns me a grin. “You wanna go for a walk? Hunter has been staring at us since I sat down, and it’s starting to creep me out.”
I glance across the circle and, sure enough, Hunter is watching us. I laugh. “He thinks you’re hot,” I say. “And gossips worse than a girl.�
�
“Are we gossip-worthy, Zoe?” he asks, a smile dancing around his mouth. Just like last night, I have the urge to kiss him.
“We will be if we go off walking in the woods together.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “How ‘bout it?”
Of course I go with him. Refusing Jet Taylor when he’s looking at me like that is beyond my powers of self-control. He stands, holding out a hand to help me up from my log, and before I know it our fingers are entwined and he’s leading me toward the trail, away from the light.
We walk hand-in-hand through the darkness of the woods until I can no longer hear my friends laughing in the distance. The trees have thinned out a bit here, and when I look up I can see the moon above us. It lights up Taylor’s face and I’m struck anew by how ridiculously hot this guy is in any light.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he asks, startling me.
“What?”
He stops walking and turns to look at me full in the face. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? I saw the way every guy at that party looked at you. I was sure you’d be taken.”
“How were guys looking at me?”
Taylor chuckles. “Come on, Zoe. You’re gorgeous. I know you’re not one of those girls that doesn’t realize when guys are into her.”
I shrug, feeling uncomfortable. “Guys hit on me. They hit on Ellie more, but I do okay.”
“So I ask again, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
I’m starting to wish I hadn’t come into the woods with him. I’m not thrilled to be talking about why I don’t date. When it becomes obvious he isn’t going to let it go, I sigh. “I don’t have time for a boyfriend. And I don’t really see the point.” I look into his eyes. “I’m not a fairytale kind of girl. I fully understand that things usually don’t work out. So I don’t let myself get worked up about that kind of thing. I’d rather just have fun.”
He’s looking at me strangely, almost as if he’s disappointed. I thought he’d be thrilled by my views on the subject, since everything I’ve heard about him made him sound like quite the womanizer. I don’t have a problem with that. I’m basically the female version of the same type.
“Don’t tell me you’re a big romantic, Taylor. Your reputation precedes you, you know.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I don’t date much either. Never have. Don’t really see the point in it myself.”
I nod. “So we’re on the same page. Fun is better.”
“Fun, huh?” He reaches his hand toward me, and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. I shiver at this near-touch on my neck. “Do you think you might want to have fun with me?”
I can think of a million fun things I want to do with him, very few of which involve clothing. I swallow. “I think maybe I can handle that.”
His eyes gleam in the moonlight as he moves his face closer to mine. “What kind of fun did you have in mind?”
I take a brief moment to question whether this is a good idea. I know Taylor is dangerous, know he has a strange ability to draw out more from me than I planned to share. Looking into his eyes, it’s obvious this could end very, very badly.
But in the end, I just don’t care.
I lean forward, closing the remaining inch between us and pressing my lips against his. He lets out a little sigh, almost like he’s relieved. Then his arms come up around me, pulling my body roughly against his.
I’ve kissed a lot of boys—in fact, I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys. Few activities better offer the distraction I crave. Ellie and I both have a reputation, and it’s pretty well earned. I’ve kissed boys at parties, in the back seat of cars, even in these very woods. But I’ve never kissed a boy like Taylor before.
His lips are like fire against mine, and he presses against me like he can’t get enough. His hands are as tight as a vise on me, but somehow that isn’t tight enough. I wonder if it will ever be tight enough. Without even realizing I’ve moved my hands, my fingers are somehow tangled up in his hair, urging his mouth to remain against mine. Then our lips are parting, his tongue running against mine, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out with the sheer awesomeness of it.
Taylor groans against my mouth. It’s just about the most arousing thing I’ve ever heard. His hands press lower against my back, dangerously near my ass. I whimper, wishing he would hurry. I want his hands everywhere, now.
A twig cracks somewhere to our left, and I pull back, gasping. Taylor stares down at me, a dazed expression on his face. We look at each other for a beat, both breathing heavily. “Holy shit,” he finally mutters, and I laugh, the tension broken.
“What was that?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.
I shake my head. “A pretty amazing kiss, I’d say.”
He gives a short, shaky laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
We stare at each other for another moment. I want to get back to the kiss, but I’m a little worried we won’t stop this time. I’m not too crazy about having sex in the middle of the trail in the woods with my friends a few yards away.
“We should go back,” I say, looking over my shoulder.
Taylor nods, taking my hand. Somehow the gesture feels more meaningful now, as if we both realize we are embarking on something different for us. I usually don’t do well with different. With all the craziness in my life, I crave familiarity. I like my group of friends, like being pretty certain what we’ll be doing on any given night. I know I can count on Ellie and Hunter, know they’ll never ask more from me than I can afford to give.
I don’t think I can’t trust Taylor in the same way. He seems like the kind of guy to take much more from me than I want to give. But somehow, as he leads me back through the woods toward the sounds of my friends’ voices, I realize I haven’t thought about home or my mom in more than a half hour, probably a record for me. The ever-present knot of worry in my stomach seems to have disappeared right around the same time Taylor showed up.
And that should scare me more than anything.
Chapter Six
Zoe
By the following Tuesday, I’m starting to wonder if I might have imagined the intensity of the kiss we’d shared. On Saturday night I would have bet the little cash I had that Taylor was interested in me. But when Sunday passes without a word from him, and Monday, too, I start to wonder. I spend way too much of my class periods thinking about him. What is he doing now? Is he thinking of me?
It frustrates me to no end. I’m not one of those girls who obsesses over boys to the point of distraction. I have enough real shit to worry about without adding Jet freaking Taylor to the list.
But he seemed so into me in the woods.
On Wednesdays I usually meet up with Ellie for lunch in the food court on campus. She’s taking classes through the college to become licensed in hairdressing—or, as she would say, the atheistic arts. She’s a lot farther along than I am, however, having started her program right after we graduated high school. She’ll be finishing up at the end of the summer.
Ellie takes one look at me and shakes her head. “You look stressed.”
I plop my backpack down on the table and take a chair across from her. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Run-of-the-mill Zoe problems or more specific hot-boy problems?”
“Take your pick.”
“So he still hasn’t called? I guess he’s just an asshat like all the rest.”
“I guess so.”
“Listen, babe. Any guy who causes you this much angst is so not worth it. You’re already the angstiest girl I know—you’re about to OD on it. Let’s go out tomorrow and find you a no- strings-attached, angst-free guy to play tonsil hockey with for a few hours. You’ll be over Jet in no time.”
I don’t tell her that I doubt any guy could come up to par after our scorching lip lock in the woods. Maybe she’s right. I usually base my romantic conquests purely on their potential to be hassle free. I have real
life to provide me with drama and worry. I certainly don’t need it from any guy.
I take a sip of my Diet Coke. “Yeah, I think that’s a good plan.”
“Great. I’ll round up Hunter and Everett and pick out a bar to hit up.” She’s quiet for a moment while she steals fries off my plate. “Shame, though,” she finally says. “He was super hot. I’m bummed we won’t be finding out what kind of heat he’s packing under those motorcycle-dude clothes of his.”
I laugh, feeling slightly better. “C’est la vie.”
My improved outlook lasts about as long as it takes to finish my classes for the day and head home. My mom managed to make it out of bed this morning, but that’s hardly cause for celebration. I find her sitting on the couch in her bathrobe, crying into a cold cup of tea.
As hard as it is to watch her sleep every day away, watching her cry is even worse. I feel so helpless. When I was younger and she had these episodes—those days she used to call her blue hours—I used to be able to cheer her up by singing to her, or playing games, or sitting on her lap and holding her tightly. But that was a long time ago, long before I realized how bad things could really get. And her brother had been around in those days. Peter could always make her feel better. But thinking about my uncle brings on a familiar rush of rage that I struggle to tamp down so my mom won’t get even more upset.
The house is in desperate need of cleaning, and no one else is going to do it. While I dust and vacuum and do the dishes, I keep up a steady stream of conversation, trying to draw her out of her crying spell. Instead she cries harder at the evidence that I’m spending my early twenties caring for her instead of out living my life. I get her to eat nearly an entire meal of grilled cheese and canned tomato soup. By the time she goes back to bed, I’m almost relieved, though it’s nowhere near a normal person’s bedtime. It’s exhausting, trying to pretend like we’ll be fine.
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