What Comes Next

by Desni Dantone

  “We need to find the baseball team,” Johnny explained. “They always bring extra beer.”

  “Great.” I skimmed the faces we passed. Most of them were familiar to me, but not all. “Who are all of these kids?”

  “A few of them come out here from New Bern. The city girls like country boys,” he explained with a wink.

  Farm boys, Ben would say. I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them came out here to take their chances with Beaufort County’s hot-shot baseball star.

  I got my answer when Johnny pulled me to a stop near the fire. “Here they are,” he declared, and bent down to fish into one of several coolers at our feet.

  Across from us, Ben reclined in a chair. Beside him sat Travis. The two regarded the cluster of girls assembled around them, vying for their attention, with matching grins.

  Something cool brushed against my arm. I glanced down at the tinted bottle Johnny held extended to me before shaking my head. “Maybe later?”

  “You sure? With this crowd, the beer won’t last long.”

  I didn’t really care about the strain on the beer supply at the moment. Ignoring Johnny, my eyes darted across the fire. At that precise moment, Ben looked up as if he sensed me. His eyes found mine immediately, and he didn’t look away. I couldn’t look away.

  The flames flicked between us. Splashes of color, arms, and legs all interrupted our locked gazes, but didn’t break it. Even as Ben brought a bottle to his mouth and tilted his head back to drink, his eyes stayed fixed on mine.

  We were still locked in a staring contest when a blur of red darted between us. Catching nothing more than a streak of brown hair and a tight red blouse, I knew it was Tracy Ryder who had plopped herself into Ben’s lap. Her head blocked my view of Ben, but some things didn’t need to be seen to understand what was happening.

  And I certainly didn’t want to watch.

  I turned to grab a hold of Johnny’s arm. “You know what?” I smiled up at him. “I think I’ll have a beer after all.”

  I would have been lying if I said Tracy had no effect on me. Especially after a few beers. Girl sits on boy’s lap . . . girl thrusts tongue into boy’s mouth . . .

  Bodily reactions were bound to happen. I even liked it, for about two seconds, before the head I was supposed to use overruled the one south of the belt.

  Sure, Tracy could be conceited and manipulative, but she was always willing. She had been right about one thing last week. I did always come back to her when I needed a fix to get my mind off things. I hadn’t been with her—or any other girl, for that matter—in months. Yet, for some reason, I found myself pushing her away.

  She rocked back to pin me with a steely glare. Behind her, the New Bern girls dispersed. My eyes immediately drifted over Tracy’s shoulder, to the spot where Ana last stood. She wasn’t there anymore, but I thought I saw a glimpse of her moving between two dicks from the baseball team. I couldn’t be sure before Tracy’s irate face was in mine again.

  “What the fuck?” she snarled.

  I reluctantly pulled my gaze back to hers, and shrugged. “Not feelin’ it, Trace.”

  “You’re not—” She laughed drily, and turned at the waist to look for a witness to this conversation. Poor Travis was to my left, his back turned away from us in a desperate attempt to pretend he hadn’t seen or heard anything. Tracy grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to glance over his shoulder, but not before he managed to wipe the grin from his face.

  Oh, shit.

  Tracy rocketed to a stand in front of me. She opened her mouth to let me have it, but bit her tongue at the last second. Maybe she realized that if she called me all the names she wanted to call me right now, we really would be done. As if she hadn’t believed me when I’d assured her of that last week.

  Instead of fighting, she put her hands on her hips, and purred, “You sure about that, Bennett? Last chance.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I leaned forward, propped my elbows on my knees, and peered up at her. “We both know this isn’t the last chance, Tracy. If I call, you’ll come running.” I paused to let my words sink in before I dropped the bomb. “But I’m not going to call you.”

  Beside me, Travis shifted uneasily in his chair. Two of Tracy’s friends drifted closer to the fire, and watched the scene with cautious curiosity along with the hovering New Bern girls. Tracy spied the multiplying spectators around us before lowering her mouth to my ear.

  “Whenever you get bored with your new conquest, give me a call,” she whispered harshly. “Maybe I’ll still be around.”

  She straightened herself up with a smirk, then stomped away with her friends on her heels. The crowd parted to allow them to pass. It appeared that the entire school, along with half the county, had come out to the party tonight, and most had just witnessed my exchange with Tracy.

  That was the least of my worries. Topping the list was the fact that I hadn’t seen where Ana had disappeared to, and I didn’t see her anywhere now.

  “Damn,” Travis chuckled beside me. “The neighbor girl must be something else for you to shoot Tracy down like that.”

  Swallowing hard, I turned a dark look on Travis. “What are you talking about?”

  Travis grinned and leaned across his seat, angling closer to me. “I should have known, really. I saw the way you looked at her that day, but when you warned me off of her, I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “I don’t know what you think, Travis, but there’s nothing—”

  “Bullshit,” he sang. “I’ve seen you around. You’re not fooling me. I’m just not so sure you’re going to get it from her, man. There’s something . . .” His eyes glazed over from his attempt to concentrate after one too many drinks. “She’s too damn innocent, or something. Not like Tracy. Not like half of these girls. Not our type. I don’t know what you’re thinking. There’s some things not even you can make happen.”

  “I’m not trying to make anything happen.” I shook my head, relieved to know Travis would barely remember this conversation tomorrow.

  But I would. And when my eyes searched the crowd for Ana, I knew Travis wasn’t the only one that didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe myself.

  It didn’t take long to find her. About five seconds after I spotted her, I had the answer to the question of whether or not she had seen Tracy and me. Ana was trying to get drunk. And succeeding.

  That didn’t bother me nearly as much as the way she grabbed on to the boy she was with. Her date. He was eating it up, of course, but I knew what he was doing.

  I’d never been that hard up that I stooped to getting a girl wasted before making a move. Not like this guy obviously was. Ana didn’t have a clue what that dick beside her was up to. She was too damn busy trying to make me jealous to notice.

  Yeah, I knew what she was doing, and I had to admit that it was working. But the fact that she was gambling with her own safety was too much. I was more pissed than jealous, and I certainly wasn’t going to sit back and let her get into trouble.

  Her date took a hold of her arm, and tugged her away from the girl she was talking to. Not even subtle about it, and I suspected he was a little too buzzed himself. Buzzed enough to not notice he was being watched. Buzzed enough to make a move that was going to force me out of my seat.

  Luckily for him, Ana slid out of his grasp on her own. I couldn’t hear what she said to him, but she turned back to her friend, leaving him with a forlorn look on his face. His gaze flicked around the scene—looking for another girl.

  “Move on, buddy,” I muttered under my breath.

  He didn’t. Another minute passed. Ana glanced in my direction twice, and I didn’t even try to hide the fact that I was watching her. When her date grabbed her arm for the third time, she tossed a look over her shoulder, directly at me. And then she followed him.

  I shook my head and heaved a sigh, loud enough to catch Travis’s attention. Even with a girl attached to his neck.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked me.
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  “Nothing,” I lied, and set my bottle on the ground. “Watch my beer, will you?”

  I got no answer, but didn’t exactly wait around for one either. I pushed through the thick crowd, moving in the direction Ana had been led. It didn’t take long to catch up to her as she shuffled up the bank toward the parking lot, leaning against the guy about to be wishing he hadn’t bothered to show up tonight.

  I snagged the back of the asshole’s shirt to yank him back. Ana stumbled forward while I tossed him to the sand. He deserved worse, but I was no longer worried about him. Ana got the brunt of my fury. I pointed to my truck, where it was parked a few spaces away.

  “In the truck.”

  Her response was exactly what I expected. She folded her arms in front of her and said, “No.”

  “Ana . . .” I warned.

  Behind me, her date scrambled to his feet. “I was just taking her home,” he stated.

  I jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t even try to pull that bullshit on me.” To Ana, I repeated, “Get in the truck.”

  “Really, Bennett . . .” the idiot continued behind me. “I can get her—”

  “It’s not going to happen,” I snarled at him. Nodding my head toward the river, and the party still going on there, I suggested, “Go on. Date’s over.”

  “Ben!” Ana stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes.

  I stepped closer to her, and lowered my voice. “You’re drunk. You’re not going anywhere with him. Get in the truck now.”

  Her eyes narrowed on me. She was still drunk, but anger was sobering her up real quick. Despite her irritation, her voice was soft. “Why are you doing this?”

  Heaviness settled in my chest when I glimpsed the hint of sadness in her eyes. It was hidden amongst the angry clouds of ocean blue, but there. Not all of it was caused by me, but enough to make me seriously doubt my actions right now.

  No. The asshole trying to take advantage of her was to blame. Not me.

  “Come on, Bennett,” he chimed in behind me. “I can get her home. No problem.”

  A growl ripped from my throat when I spun on him. “It would be in your best interest to walk away now.”

  The guy glanced at Ana, weighing his options, before he retreated a step. Then another, and another. With one last glance over his shoulder, he disappeared down the embankment, where a few juniors had assembled to watch.

  Ana’s fist pummeled my bicep hard, pulling my attention away from their curious stares. “Who in the hell do you think you are?”

  I absentmindedly rubbed the spot she’d hit. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

  “For ruining my date?” she retorted incredulously.

  “Like it was really going that well.”

  My snide comment doused most of her anger—because she knew I was right. I took advantage of the opportunity, and steered her by the elbow toward my truck. Three steps from the passenger door, she finally realized my destination. Her feet dug in, kicking up gravel that poked my shins like tiny needles as I yanked the door open.

  I didn’t doubt everyone in the parking lot was getting a hell of a show, and it only got more entertaining when she started yelling at me. I’d always had a bad mouth—repercussion of growing up with a drunk for a father—but Ana . . .

  I gaped down at her after she spewed off a particularly colorful choice of words. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”

  “I learned it from you, asshole,” she fired automatically. “I think I was eight the first time Ma washed my mouth out with soap.”

  I grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

  She folded her arms. “No, you’re not.”

  “No, really I am sorry for being a bad influence,” I insisted. “Almost as sorry as I am for doing this . . .”

  Before Ana could question the meaning behind my warning, I scooped her up and tossed her into the truck. Holding her down in the seat, I fastened the seatbelt. I didn’t move far when I released her, and pinned her to the seat with a firm look.

  “Don’t even think about moving,” I warned. “I will chase you down. I will catch you, and it won’t be pretty.” I thrust my thumb over my shoulder toward the curious onlookers.

  Her eyes widened when she registered the sight of the crowd gathering behind me. At least their presence worked to keep her in place. She sat back with a huff, folded her arms, and nodded her head. Not all that convincing, but I would have to take what I could get at this point.

  I felt her eyes on me as I rounded the front of the truck and climbed into the driver’s side. Though I suspected she had a load of questions, I offered no explanation for what had just happened.

  For some reason, I didn’t drive her home. I should have. I should have deposited her at Marly’s feet, where she would get a lecture followed by a few weeks of house arrest. But I didn’t do it. I drove her to my house instead. Ma wouldn’t be home yet, and Mitch . . .

  By now he’d be buried under half a case of beer, so I doubted he would notice much of anything.

  Ana sat up in her seat as I ground the truck to a stop in the driveway. “What are we doing here?”

  “I can’t exactly take you home like this, now can I?” I tossed over my shoulder before I jumped out of the truck. I made my way around to her door, and was greeted with an icy glare when I opened it. When she didn’t move, I inclined my head sharply. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Go where?”

  She slid out reluctantly, and I eased the door shut—just in case my brother was lucid enough to hear it.

  “Somewhere that won’t get you grounded.”

  There was only one place I knew of to hide for a little while, away from Mitch and away from Joe and Marly. One place where I knew no one would bother us. Ana fell into step beside me as I made my way across the narrow yard toward the creek. The water was at its highest now, with spring in full swing, but the trail that ran along it was clear. Only a few muddy holes to worry about, and I knew where they were all at, even in the dark.

  It was a path my feet had wandered since I was old enough to walk.

  “This comes out behind our barn,” Ana observed.

  “You remember?”

  “Of course I remember.” Her voice took on a distant ring, and I peered over my shoulder at her. With the moon’s help, I could see that her eyes had glazed over as she stared over the water—not from the alcohol, but from something else. “We used to go swimming down here.”

  Memories. She had taken a turn down memory lane. Not a bad memory either—but one I remembered vividly. Afternoons splashing in the shallows behind my house, jumping off rocks into the deep, laughing and playing without a care in the world. We’d only been kids that saw each other three months out of the year. But we’d had fun, and I’d never forgotten that fun. Nor her.

  “How did you not remember me?” I asked softly.

  Her eyes shifted from the water to meet mine. “What?”

  I instantly regretted bringing it up—I hated that I even cared—and shook my head before pushing forward on the trail. I felt her on my heels, and kept a fast pace for a while. Until the shadowy outline of my sanctuary materialized in the distance, and I involuntarily slowed.

  “I remembered the boy.” Her soft voice came from behind me. “When I showed up that day, I wasn’t expecting . . .”

  I turned with a grin. “For me to have grown up?” I knew the feeling, all too well.

  She shrugged bashfully. “I guess so. You were . . . different. You are different.”

  I didn’t think she was just talking about my height, size, and voice differences. For some reason that I couldn’t put a finger on, the fact that she found me different from the boy she grew up with bothered me.

  “Sadly, you’re the only one that can make me remember the boy I used to be.” Again, I shook my head. I had no idea why I’d said that. There was no taking the words back now, but I could try to ignore that I’d said them as I trudged along the trail.

  Ana was quiet beside me
for a few moments before she said, “I don’t remember much. Of my childhood, I mean. But what I do remember . . .” She stopped and grabbed my elbow, forcing me to stop with her. “You were there, a part of all of it. I remembered you. I just didn’t know you anymore.”

  Past tense. I picked that much up. For some stupid reason, I found myself asking, “And now?”

  “Sometimes . . .” She dropped her hand, and shrugged. “Sometimes I think I do, and then . . .”

  I pulled asshole moves that baffled even me. Never thought twice about who I was, or who I had become. Until the day Ana came back. Now I wasn’t so sure I knew myself anymore.

  I ran a hand through my hair before marching forward again. We were nearly beneath the tree house now, and I wondered if Ana even noticed. She’d only been in it once—that I knew of. On a night that I hadn’t realized the significance of at the time, but had never forgotten.

  Like I had never forgotten her.

  “You know what?” I turned to her, and she stumbled to a sudden stop behind me. “Maybe you don’t know me. Or maybe . . .” I stuffed my hands in my pants, knowing I should keep my mouth shut, but unable to do so. It could have been the beer talking. I couldn’t help myself. “Maybe you’re the only one that really does know me.”

  “How could you think that, Ben? You keep me at arm’s length so that I can’t know you.” She pierced me with a look that produced that now familiar ache in my chest. “I don’t understand why.”

  “I wear a mask, Ana. Most days, it’s easier to ignore my reality than it is to face it. I go through the motions, I play the part, but it’s not who I am.” At least, I didn’t think so. Or I hoped so? “When I’m around you, my mask slips. I’m not playing a part.”

  “You’re being you?” she asked quietly, and I nodded my head. “So that back there at the party? That was . . . what?”

  “That . . .” Was something entirely different, and a complete change in the subject. But why not? She wanted to go there? I could go there. “That was me saving you.”