by Tracey Ward
“It’s weird.”
“I know,” he laughed. “They’re all nuts. It used to be I’d say something stupid like ‘You’re like a fine wine. I want to lock you in my cellar and drink you for days.’ and they’d look at me like I was a creep. Now that’s the fantasy and I’m getting laid twenty four freaking seven, bro!”
After that, I tried to forget the girl’s name along with her blurry tattoos, pierced tongue, and Callum’s seal of approval, but I couldn’t. It was like the whole thing was haunting me to remind me how low I could sink.
Chelsea. That was her name. I hoped to God I never saw her again.
I wasn’t shallow enough for the animal growling sex with the porn star and I wasn’t deep enough for a real relationship. I was in some strange middle ground purgatory and I couldn’t change it, but that’s what they all wanted me to do. Change.
All of them but Laney.
She’d never asked more of me than the moments we had in the backseat of too many cars. In the janitors closet at school. On the beach under the night sky with the tide rolling in. Sex was just sex to Laney, something fun and exciting, and when I got distant, she didn’t care. She got what she needed, then she was on to the next thing. Initially I had thought it was messed up, but after my recent dip back into the dating pool, I wondered if it wasn’t perfect. If we weren’t made for each other.
It was kind of a depressing thought, one I tried to avoid.
Instead, I focused on better things. Things like killing it at school. Winning a recent bout. Jenna’s fifteenth birthday.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”
Jenna cringed slightly. “You know you can’t sing, right?”
“Happy birthday, dear Jenna!” I shouted in reply, flying far off key. “Happy birthday to you!”
“Wow. Thank you. That was humiliating.”
I sat down, smiling at her. “You’re welcome.”
“Can I take the hat off now?” she asked, pointing to the massive sombrero our waitress had put on her head when she’d brought out the small birthday cake I’d had delivered.
I dug a fork into my burrito. “Is your birthday over?”
“It’s not even my birthday today!”
“But it is tomorrow. We can do this again tomorrow if you want to take the hat off now.”
“No,” she replied immediately, pulling the massive embarrassment down farther onto her head. “This is fine. It’s good. I love it.”
“It looks good on you,” I chuckled.
She looked ridiculous, but she smiled at me happily and drug her finger through the side of the cake to gather the icing.
“Your mom would flip,” I warned her, watching her lick the purple frosting off her fingertip.
She smiled mischievously. “I know. That’s why early birthdays with you are the best. You let me do whatever I want.”
“Yeah, you’re such a rebel,” I said sarcastically. “It’s a real burden. I bring bail money.”
“I’m going to do something crazy. Something mom would never let me do. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.”
“Shit dammit bitch ass,” she said at full volume.
I closed my eyes, shaking my head. “It’s like sweet music.”
“It’s better than your singing,” she replied, getting serious and taking her fork to the cake. “Yes! There’s a raspberry ribbon.”
“It’s your favorite, right?”
“Yes. Thank you!” She sat up in her chair to lean across the table and plant a quick kiss on my cheek. “You’re awesome.”
“I know.”
“Sucks you live so far away.”
“I know,” I repeated more softly, watching her face fall a little serious. A little sad. “I miss hanging out with you.”
“Yeah, me too. Are you going to visit the house while you’re in town?”
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Because Laney will be there?”
“Maybe.”
Jenna sighed dramatically. “First college, now Laney. The world is conspiring to keep you away from me.”
I laughed. “Have you been watching soap operas while I’ve been gone? What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled, looking away.
I nudged her foot under the table, getting her attention. “Hey. What’s up?”
She looked at me reluctantly and I noticed how tired she seemed. “Mom is all over me about school and painting. She’s scheduling all these activities for me and tutoring and it sucks. It’s like she’s trying to keep me from having free time.”
“Have you told her you don’t want to do all of it?”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t listen. It’s all stuff she had Laney doing at my age because it’s what mom did when she was a kid and Laney loved it, so she’s convinced I’ll love it to if I give it a try.”
“What does she have you doing?”
“Gymnastics and dance team. Cheerleading.”
I looked her over from her dark hair to her dark eye shadow to her vibrant blue hoodie with the nautical stars printed in black up the right sleeve. “I cannot picture you with pom poms,” I said, not wanting to even try.
“Right? I’m not good. I’m too tall. There’s too much of me to do that stuff, but I have try it all, and I don’t like it. Any of it. I’ve been faking being sick to get out of stuff and I have a sketchpad hidden under my mattress so I can practice at night when she’s not snooping around. Kids my age are usually hiding drugs or cigarettes. I only want to draw a fruit bowl in peace.”
“Sorry, Jen.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. It was easier with you and dad around, but dad is always working and you’re gone and… I don’t know.”
I felt a twinge of guilt in my gut that pulled on the corners of my mouth, making me frown. Without Dan and I around, Jenna was outnumbered.
“What about Sam?”
She brightened a little. “Yeah, at least I’ve got her to keep me sane. I skip out to go to her house a lot because her parents think I’m amazing just for wearing colors. They’re easy to please.”
“You didn’t want to bring her today? I told you it’d be fine if she came with us.”
“No, I like it being you and I. Besides, she’s at her aunt’s house. Her cousin just showed up and she has a baby no one has met yet so the whole family is over there today.”
“How old is the kid?” I asked distractedly, not really caring. I was more concerned with the cake sitting in front of me. Taunting me.
“Emma had him about a year ago, I think. They just got back to the States from living in Europe.”
My fork hovered over the side of the cake where I’d been about to dig in. Right until Jenna told me the cousin’s name.
“She went to Weston?”
“Yeah.” Jenna looked up at me, her eyes thoughtful. “She would have been in your class. Did you know her? Emma Kirkpatrick?”
“It sounds familiar,” I answered evasively.
Jenna recognized the dodge, narrowing her eyes at me. “How familiar?”
I grinned crookedly at her scrutiny. “It’s not my baby, Jen.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I barely even met Emma and besides, I’m very careful. Trust me. It’s not mine.”
“Hmm.”
Now I narrowed my eyes at her. “What?”
“Nothing. I just realized something.”
“What?”
“Her baby’s name is Colter.”
I felt myself flush for some reason, my cheeks going red. Was I embarrassed? Why? “That’s a good name.”
“It’s your name,” she reminded me.
I shrugged. “Depends on how you spell it.”
“She named her baby after you, didn’t she?”
“It’s possible.”
“Why would a girl you barely know name her baby after you?”
“Because I’m awesome.”
“Kellen,
” she said impatiently.
“Yes, Jenna?”
She stared at me, waiting.
Finally I put up my hands, giving in. “Fine. Alright. Emma was the girl from the fight.”
“The one you got in trouble for?”
“No, the one Mr. Miyagi trained me for.” Jenna stared at me blankly. “Never mind. Yes. That fight. The guy was her boyfriend.”
“Shit boyfriend.”
“No kidding.”
“Karate Kid, by the way,” she said drolly. “I get it.”
I grinned. “You get everything.”
She drug her fork through the icing slowly, like a rake through a Zen garden. “That’s really cool.”
“What is?”
“That she named her kid after you.”
“Do me a favor?” I asked her seriously.
“Sure.”
“Don’t tell anybody about it.”
“Okay,” she frowned. “But why?”
“We don’t know for sure she named him after me.”
“The name isn’t exactly common,” she argued.
“Either way, keep it between you and me, alright?”
“Are you embarrassed?”
I shrugged off the question. “I don’t want to have to talk about it with people.”
Yes, I was. I was embarrassed. It was an honor, one I didn’t feel like I deserved. I’d almost ruined my future with that one moment, and even though I didn’t regret stepping in to help her, I knew I could have handled it differently. More calmly. She was such a small girl and pregnant and fragile. What if one of us had hit her? What if we’d knocked her down and hurt her and the baby? The animal had come out, I’d let him out, and it could have ended so much worse than it did. For everyone.
I didn’t deserve a medal for not destroying something beautiful.
“You did a really good thing,” Jenna told me, watching me.
“And you’d be doing a really good thing for me by keeping it quiet.”
I could see it in her eyes that she knew I was ready to run. To hide. She knew me well enough to understand that when things got too intense, I retreated like a coward. I hid from the world and I waited for it to end.
“Okay,” she agreed easily, letting me off the hook. “I won’t say a word.”
“Thanks.” I lifted my fork, stabbing it pointedly into the cake and pushing a grin onto my face. “Now let’s eat ourselves sick on this thing and get out of here.”
She smiled knowingly. “Ocean?”
“You know it. If there’s one thing I miss almost as much as you, it’s being five minutes from the water.”
“You know what I miss more than you?”
“What?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
My stomach flipped and for the second time that afternoon, I felt my cheeks flush red, feeling embarrassed.
Unworthy.
Chapter Twelve
Eleven Months Later
During the span of nearly a year, Laney and I got together and broke up seven times. Seven. I knew because I counted. The latest incident that landed us back together had been a birthday party Callum dragged me to for one of the girls we’d graduated with. One Laney had been at as well. Only an hour into the party and she and I were in the laundry room with her on the dryer and my tongue between her legs as she begged me to stand up and fuck her. I hadn’t because she was still only seventeen and I had ice in my veins, but as I handed her underwear to her afterward and lifted her down off that dryer, I knew what would happen. I knew the cycle was starting over and my stomach had tightened in an angry knot at the thought.
It was during that same year that I made a massive decision about my future – I was going to apply to law school. I was inspired by Dan and Callum’s dad and all of the lawyer’s from Dan’s firm who I’d met at parties over at the Monroe Mansion. They drove dark, gleaming cars instead of broke down Hondas. They wore crisp white shirts under perfectly tailored suits instead of coveralls with a name tag embroidered on the chest with another man’s name on it. Even their haircuts looked expensive. Polished. They drank brandy and scotch instead of Coors Light and talked about world finance instead of the price of a dime bag. The ghetto never felt farther away than when I mingled with them, laughing at their jokes and impressing them with my class load at Cal. Roaming through their midst was like visiting a foreign country for me, one I wanted a passport to.
“I’ve been dress shopping for Prom,” Laney told me as she scrolled idly through her phone. “I think I found the one I want. Do you want to see it?”
“I’m driving,” I answered evasively.
“You can glance at it. That is, if I can find it…” she mumbled.
My hands clenched on the steering wheel of her car as I navigated up the hill toward her house. We were almost there. I didn’t want to have this discussion in front of an audience so I needed to hurry the hell up and tell her. And she was giving me the perfect opening.
“Hey, Lane,” I said evenly, “I need to talk to you about something. It’s about the Prom thing.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
I flexed my hands again, feeling my stomach roil hot and angry. “I got my schedule for my business class. It has a list of all the tests we’re taking.”
“Bleh,” she blurted in disgust, still looking down at her phone. “I do not look forward to that mess.”
“Yeah. Here’s the thing. The final is the Monday after your Prom.”
“Well, that’s perfect,” she said brightly. She looked up to smile at me. “You’ll take me to the Prom on Saturday night, we’ll party, chill on Sunday, and you’ll be back up to campus on Monday to take your test.”
“No. I can’t take the test that way. It’s a huge portion of my grade and getting finished with my core work early means acing this class. It’s the only way I can even consider Law School next year.”
She sat perfectly still, watching me. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I can’t take you to the Prom.”
“What?!”
I winced as her voice exploded in my ear. I nearly pulled over and got out of the car. She could drive herself home.
“Kellen, what are you talking about?” she demanded.
“Exactly what I said. I can’t take you. I have to stay up at school and spend the weekend studying. It’s too important to waste an entire weekend partying.”
“Waste?”
I sighed, pulling into her driveway and parking the car. “Don’t do that. Don’t latch onto one word of what I’m saying and ignore the rest. You know what I’m getting at.”
She hurriedly grabbed her purse, slamming her phone inside before snatching the car keys out of my hand violently. “What you’re getting at is that time spent with me is a waste. That the things that are important to me are a waste. That you’re a big college man now and your high school girlfriend is a waste of your precious time!”
On that very theatrical note, she was out of the car. She slammed the door shut behind her as I slowly unbuckled my seat belt. I didn’t bother trying to catch up with her. I watched impassively as she stormed off toward the house. I tucked my hands into my pockets and followed her slowly. “I’m not going to keep apologizing,” I told her.
She laughed bitterly. “You haven’t even done it once.”
“Fine. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t fucking care, Kellen!” she shouted at me, flinging the front door open. She froze in the entryway, scowling. “What the hell is this?” she demanded of whoever was standing there.
“I’m Devon. A friend of—“
“I don’t give a shit,” she interrupted angrily.
“Oh.”
“Laney, calm down,” I told her, stepping inside behind her. Jenna was standing there in the living room off the entry way. A guy I recognized vaguely from my last year at Weston stood next to her. He’d been a Freshman on the football team, just a tall scrawny kid, but he’d filled out since the last time I saw him.
He looked less like a kid and more like a man.
A man alone in the house with Jenna.
“I will not calm down. You are unbelievable!” Laney shrieked at me.
I sighed, sick of this argument. “You know why I can’t do it.”
“No, I know why you won’t do it. It’s because I’m not important enough to you.”
“No, a high school dance isn’t important enough to me to miss an important test. I need to ace this class if I’m going to get this done in under three years,” I reminded her.
“Is that it? Really? Or is it because you’ve got some college bitch you’re already sleeping with that you don’t want to leave for the night?”
My temper flared, my body going rigid. How did this get thrown at me every single time? I’d never cheated on anyone, but every girl I dated accused me of it at least once.
“I’ve never been unfaithful to you,” I told her coldly, feeling like a broken record.
Laney laughed bitterly. “So you say.”
“Laney,” Jenna scolded sharply.
“Stay out of it, Jenna,” Laney spat. “And get this guy outta here. I know who you are, Devon. You’re the Junior class slut. The next Kellen Coulter in the making. We don’t need any more of those around here, so scram.”
Jenna turned from her sister reluctantly, looking to Devon and nodding her head. “You better go.”
He quickly moved toward the door, eager to get the hell out of there. I didn’t blame him. “I’ll see you later?” he asked Jenna.
She nodded again, but the smile she gave him was sad. Unconvincing. She was worried Laney had scared him off. She was probably right.
“You picked the sane one, man,” I told him as he passed me on his way out the door. I offered him my hand. “Well done.”
For some reason he hesitated. His eyes shot to Jenna across the room, his brow tight.
I held my hand steady as I watched him. Studied him, then Jenna.
Her face was flushed, her hair a little ruffled. Her pink lips kiss swollen the way I’d seen Laney’s a hundred times. Most telling of all, she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Finally, Devon stepped closer and put his hand in mine. He held it hand weirdly, his fingers stretched away from my palm. It was all the confirmation I needed, but when I gripped his hand tighter and yanked him toward me, I knew without a doubt. His fingers flexed against my skin. They were wet.
