Campbell

by C. S. Starr

  “Only I never told you I was a lesbian, and if you’d asked me, I probably would have told you that it wasn’t as easy as that, even in the fantasy life you loaned me.” Lucy stroked his cheek, the barely-there stubble exactly the interesting contrast of smooth and rough under her fingers that she’d imagined. “So we both just look at each other and you sip your Guinness and I drink my gin and tonic.We’re pathetic.”

  “It goes on for months, like that. My brother marries a Jewish girl the following February. Everyone is thrilled. I invite you to the wedding as my date because I’m not seeing anyone, but you decline.”

  She nodded. “Because it’s too much like a real date and I know people will make assumptions.”

  “You agree to meet me at the hotel bar, after I send you a few rambling drunken text messages. You’re in a dress. It’s the first time I’ve seen you in one. It’s blue, and your eyes look like the sea, and your hair is up, off your neck.”

  “I feel entirely out of my element at the hotel, because I’m in a dress and I’m sure I’m parked where I’m going to get a ticket, but I order a drink that costs what I could get three for at the usual dive bar I go to, and when you slide up beside me in your suit and yarmulke, I’m glad I came although I’m not sure why.”

  “You ask me if this is what I have planned, a wedding like this at a ridiculously expensive hotel, but you ask it with a knowing smile because you already know my answer, which is no, at twenty-two, because it’s all a lot of show, and I’m not into that. I’m not sure it won’t be what I want at twenty-nine though, especially if I decided to marry someone that wanted it.”

  “I order another drink and you comp it to the wedding, ignoring my weak protests. Your uncle sees us together and gives you a weird nod of approval, knowing nothing of our history, and likely imagining that I’m some girl you just met. I tell you I need to go home because I’m driving and my piece of shit car is going to get ticketed or towed. You nab my keys, vanish for a minute and come back with a valet slip for me and explain that even though I’d said no, I was still a guest at the wedding. I have another drink, this one with a parasol, and then we do a shot of tequila.” Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Even though I hate tequila.”

  “Since it is a wedding, after all,” Tal laughed.

  “Your parents were rich, huh?”

  “Less rich than some, but richer than others. I threaten to introduce you to my mother, and then I mention that I’m staying here for the night, which is ridiculous because I live twenty minutes away, but there’s some breakfast thing in the morning and the bride’s parents think it’s important that everyone stays, and they’re richer than my parents so they’ve booked a block of rooms.”

  “After another shot, this time of Jäegermeister, I ask to see the room, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos in my head, which is fuzzy from mixing drinks. Your room is a mess too, like my head.”

  “It’s because I got dressed there, and my brother Rob and I spent most of the afternoon drinking, since I got the room with the balcony in the coin flip. There was always a coin flip in my family.”

  “I sit on the bed,” Lucy whispered. “And my heart’s beating so loud I can hear it in my ears.”

  “I sit beside you, and I fight the urge to just make you say how you feel so I don’t have to guess anymore, but then I’ve grown used to the uncertainty.”

  “It keeps you on your toes.”

  “It does,” Tal nodded, back on the grass in Oklahoma instead of an ornate room at the Beverly Hills Hotel. “So what happens then?” he asked with hesitation thick in his voice.

  Lucy’s hand was unwavering on his cheek. “You flop back on the bed, and I join you, and we’re both terrifyingly horizontal, but I’m not so scared anymore. You ask, after a long silence, if you can kiss me.”

  “What do you say?”

  Lucy landed back on the grass as well, and opened her eyes to find Tal’s looking back at her. “Ask me.”

  Their noses brushed.

  “I don’t think I’d ask here,” he whispered. “We’re a lot more civilized there.”

  He caught her breath in his mouth as she exhaled, and he moved so their noses were parallel and he could almost feel the static from her mouth. Her eyes issued an invitation, and fantasy and reality blended into one as he pressed his mouth against hers. He took the lead, and she eagerly followed suit, allowing him past her teeth and smiling against his mouth as their tongues met. Her hand moved from his cheek to his neck and she used it to steady herself, unaware that it was possible to be so affected by a kiss as her heart pulsed and her senses became overloaded.

  It felt like a kiss a long time in the making, even though it hadn’t been.

  “I’d still think you were the most beautiful girl, even if there were millions of other people in that reality,” Tal said breathlessly, when they inched apart.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” Lucy asked, her mind raking over his words, gathering them into a pile like leaves.

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “How many times have you caught me looking at you?”

  “You scare the shit out of me,” Lucy admitted, her voice wavering. “Because this isn’t me.”

  Tal reached out and stroked the underside of her chin. “Your skin’s so soft. I’d never want you to be someone else.”

  “We’re so fucking stoned,” Lucy reminded herself. “But it’s like you’ve been listening in on my head.”

  “You slept on my chest. You’re not afraid of me.”

  “I should be afraid of you.” She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, dislodging some of the leaves that had stuck in the back. “You have the potential to destroy everything I’ve worked for.”

  “I won’t,” he simply said. “And I think you’re smart enough to know that, or you wouldn’t let me in.”

  “I’m good at reading people,” she said, more to herself than him. “At least I hope I am. I’ve been questioning that lately.”

  Tal blinked at the colours all around them. The leaves were more vibrant than Lucy could imagine, and they almost hurt her head to look at. The people around her seemed sad and pitiful. It was getting dark.

  “I’m going to go back to the tent,” he decided, carefully rising to his feet. “I need to get out of here.”

  Lucy held her hand up to him and he helped her to her feet. “Let’s go then.”

  The zipper on the tent sounded like a freight train and Tal cringed as he opened it, letting Lucy in first. She felt like everything would be fine, once she was away from everyone else, and the tension she was feeling dissipated when he zipped the tent closed. It was mostly dark, and the barely-there light seemed perfect.

  Lucy lay back down, once inside, spread herself out and imagined she was a starfish. She’d read somewhere that they didn’t have brains and functioned simply by sensing light, so she gave that a try, and followed the flashlights and candles outside the tent for a while. Thoughts itched at her brain, but she pushed them aside, knowing she’d have to go back to them soon enough.

  When she woke up the next morning, she was alone in a giant sleeping bag made up of two zipped together, and the spot next to her was warm. Moments later, she froze as the tent opened and she was met with a familiar face, albeit not the one she’d been expecting.

  “You were smiling in your sleep,” Bull said as he climbed inside and stretched out beside her, pulling her into his embrace. “Goose, you worried me.”

  “I’m okay,” she said, hugging him back, her heart light at the sight of her old friend. “I can’t believe you sent me here.”

  “It was close and you need to loosen up. Harvest Week is a good time.” He gave her a half grin. “Maybe I just wanted to come to Harvest Week.”

  “I should have known,” she replied sarcastically, poking his chest. “Last night was mushroom night.”

  “I’m sorry I missed that.” He scanned her face. “You’re okay?”

  She nodded. “Where’s—”

 
“West is out at the food table. Red Cloud introduced us.” Bull frowned, and his dark brows moved together as he noticed the giant sleeping bag. “What’s going on there?”

  “Nothing,” Lucy was quick to say, wary about Bull’s reaction to anything but that. “We’re just here together, and—”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Lucy sat up, still fully dressed in her clothes from the night before. “Why?”

  “Because everyone from that fucking area is nuts. You know how they are. They’re like East, but more superficial.”

  A minute later, the tent zipped open and Tal carefully balancing two plates of breakfast, slid back in, before pausing to take in the huge man with the shaved head sitting in his spot. He sized Bull up as he handed Lucy a stacked plate full of eggs and various breakfast meats. It was more than she would eat, but she appreciated him overcompensating after the confusing night they’d shared.

  The tent couldn’t have been tenser.

  “You should leave, man,” Bull said, raising his eyebrows at Tal. “Me and Goose…Lucy, we’ve got some things to talk about.”

  Lucy looked at Tal sadly, realizing that any break she’d had from her life as a result of her kidnapping was over. “Thanks, for breakfast. Do you mind?”

  It wasn’t really a question.

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll just…” He backed out of the tent. “I’ll see you.”

  Lucy listened to Bull for a while as he recapped the last week. They’d found a few spies from East, and a few from West. They had them locked away and Bull, in a moment of weakness in Lucy’s opinion, had left her brother Andrew in charge of them. There was no mention of Cole. Zoey was miserable. Bull was convinced of her innocence.

  “If you were curious, there would have been a million better ways to satisfy that.” Bull’s dark eyes bore into hers. “A million better ways. Look at you. You’re somewhere else.”

  “Oh, stop making assumptions,” Lucy groaned. “We’ve…I’ve been through a lot. You really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  The problem of course, was that Bull knew exactly what she was talking about, and from his perturbed expression, he knew it. “Zoey told me about that guy and her.”

  “Zoey threw herself at him to piss me off. She told me about it too.”

  “If he was any sort of statesman, he would have said no.”

  “He saved my life. It would have been easier for him not to.” Her hands went to her face and traced the faded bruises. “He’s not Connor Wilde.”

  “What happens now?” Bull said, his calm tone masking his anger at his best friend. Anger that Lucy felt was unjustified after so long. “Since I have no idea what I’m talking about. Why don’t you fill me in?”

  “Nothing happens. Things go back to the way they were a week ago. I go back to Campbell, he goes back to West, and I work with them as it suits me as a means to get my brother back.”

  Her heart felt heavy at things going back to the way they were in some ways, but not in others. She’d feel safer at her house, surrounded by her people than in some god-awful strange land, and she needed to see about Cole. The thing was, she’d acknowledged a few things about herself in the past few days as well. She’d learned she wasn’t as evolved as she thought she was, and that, in fact, she was more complicated than she’d ever imagined. Part of her wondered if all of her new feelings weren’t a result of the very real possibility that she might lose Cole, and that it was now entirely up to her to develop her sense of self, whereas before, he could fill the gaps.

  “We’ll leave in the morning,” Bull said with a nod. “I told Red Cloud that I’d reward him for—”

  “Whatever he wants, from my end,” Lucy replied, picking at the eggs that had gone cold on the plate in her lap. “Thanks, for coming.”

  “Thanks for not dying,” Bull joked, reaching for a piece of her bacon, which she begrudgingly handed over, irritated at him for being right about more than she’d ever admit. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Ditto,” she murmured, linking her arm with his. “And nothing happened with Bauman. Nothing you have to worry about.”

  “Good,” he muttered, eating more of her food. “I don’t want to have to kill him.”

  Chapter 15

  May 2002

  Campbell

  “I think he likes me,” Cara whispered to Lucy as they sat together on the porch while the boys played a most rudimentary game of tackle football. “Bull’s friend.”

  Lucy looked at the boy who’d just knocked Cole to the ground, and then at her former classmate. “Why?”

  “He keeps looking at me and then he does something stupid—” Lucy’s friend winced as Andrew Campbell flattened him. “Like he’s distracted.”

  Cara was a chubby girl, the kind of plump people picked on when one was eleven or twelve, when they were picking on people for everything, but would probably vanish with a growth spurt. Lucy had never picked on her, and instead found herself fascinated by her curvy figure and beautiful curly strawberry blonde hair, which was in sharp contrast to her own straight dark ponytail. She had breasts too, Cara did, and they were something Lucy desperately hoped she’d have one day. She checked the mirror in the bathroom almost every morning, and although her chest no longer matched her twin’s, she knew she had a long way to go before she caught up with most of the girls her age. Lucy found herself quite enamored with Cara, and more than once had imagined what the response would be if she kissed her. She hadn’t thought of girls like that besides Cara, but in her imagination, it was nice.

  “Do you like him?”

  Cara looked out at the boy on the field and Lucy knew if her parents were alive, he was the kind of boy they’d never let into their house. He was a nice boy and he’d been polite in their limited interactions, and if she’d only described those characteristics, she was sure it would have been okay, but there was one thing they wouldn’t overlook. Cara’s parents didn’t like black people. She knew none of the rest of it would matter if they were alive.

  “I don’t know. Maybe?” She shrugged. “He’s handsome.”

  “He’s okay,” Lucy replied, as Bull came and sat in front of her and rested his arms on her thighs. “You’re done playing?”

  “I’m tired. What are you cooking?” He looked at Cara. “Did you make a pie?”

  “Cherry, just like you wanted,” she said, beaming. “What’s your friend’s name?”

  “Paul Miller,” he said, shooting Lucy a knowing grin. “From Chicago. Why?”

  Cara shrugged. “Curious, I guess. He keeps looking at me.”

  “Go talk to him then,” Bull said, rolling his eyes. “Why do I have to do everything around here?”

  “Because you insist on it,” Lucy joked, as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know what’s for dinner. Let’s go look.”

  Dinner was had, and later in the evening, as was happening more and more, everyone paired off quickly and the pressure was once again on Lucy to entertain her boyfriend in a way that didn’t involve sex. It was getting harder and harder, especially since she’d turned twelve and a lot of their friends had started doing it. It was when sex came up that she felt it; that sinking feeling in her gut that she was damaged, and broken, and if, even for the briefest moment, she showed someone that, everything she’d built would come tumbling down. The new life she’d begun to build would slip out from underneath her. She’d be the person she was supposed to be, instead of the new one that people found funny, respected, and liked.

  “You’re a million miles away, Goose,” Bull said, cocking his head at her on the couch. “What’s the problem?”

  “Do you ever feel like you’re a fraud?”

  Bull raised his eyebrows. “No. I’m a liar, and a thief, but never a fraud.”

  “I don’t think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t think I’m who you think I am.” She wrung her hands in her lap and Bull placed his larger one over hers.

  “We all get
a fresh start now,” he said gently. “I know what I need to know.”

  “I don’t,” she replied, her tone brimming over with uncertainty. “Not about anything.”

  They both paused at the squeaking sound of someone having sex outside on the porch swing. Lucy sighed. “I won’t even let you touch me.”

  He nuzzled her neck with his nose, pressing his lips against her shoulder. “You let me touch you.”

  “Not like that,” she shook her head. “And I don’t want to, and you’re going to want that. I’m surprised you don’t already.”

  “I’ve already got two kids to take care of,” Bull replied tersely. “I don’t need to think about more. Don’t worry about that.”

  Lucy bit her tongue to keep from making a snide comment about how well he was caring for his siblings, coming down to see her on a near-weekly basis. It became very obvious what she needed to do, not only for herself, but for Bull.

  “I think we should be friends. For now.” Lucy looked at him out of the corner of her eye and hoped he understood, even if she was unable to explain. “I think it’s better.”

  “Fine,” Bull nodded, avoiding her eyes, so she wouldn’t see how bothered he was by her rejection. “Friends.”

  September 2012

  Grove, Old Oklahoma

  “Food’s good, huh?” Bull said to Tal, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye from the dinner line. “Not such a bad place to be.”

  “Besides the forced baby-making, yeah,” Tal said coolly, seemingly unimpressed by Bull’s superior physique or the way he seemed to be interjecting himself between Tal and Lucy at every opportunity.

  “Everyone’s got their shit. I’m sure you know that better than most.”

  Tal glanced at Lucy, who raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a goofy smile. “Yeah, I’m sure you know that too.”