Generations 2.7 kindle

by Folkman, Lori

  This lady—Mrs. Dudley—was really starting to tick him off. She was being all sexy and flirty, but at the same time, she kept insulting his manhood. And it wasn’t like he needed to prove to Kat that he was a man after all. She knew. Didn’t she? Or did she really think of Jack as another one of the girls? He thought about his relationship with Kat—of all the things they did together. Board games. Moped rides. Paper crafts. Drama club. Oh. Oh boy. He did look like the gay best buddy. Did Kat wonder about his sexual orientation?

  Jackson felt his teeth clench together. Tim. He’d thought that Jackson was gay. And that was why Tim had taken Jackson under his wing. So that Tim could be a mentor. A shoulder to cry on as soon as Jackson was ready to come out. Jackson tried to shake away the thought—the thought of everyone assuming that he was gay. He liked girls. He knew he did. He wasn’t gay. He was just … particular. And he had control over his hormones. So that meant he had priorities. And girls just weren’t at the top of his list.

  But, for the first time, Jackson realized that this strategy might be doing him more harm than good. He looked like he was swinging the other way. Not good.

  “What are you proposing?” Jack asked.

  “Give her reason to be jealous. Show her how … hot … you really are.”

  Jack agreed. But not because he wanted Kat to be jealous. Not really. But because he had something to prove: his manhood.

  ……

  Once the slow song ended, it only took about thirty seconds for Kat to realize that Ben was a horrible skater. He tripped twice as they joined the orbiting ring of fast skaters.

  “Slow down, Kat!” he yelled.

  She wasn’t even going fast. But she obliged. He held tightly to her arm. Not out of romance this time; he was holding on for dear life. But he was smiling: he was having fun. Until they would come to the turns. He obviously didn’t know how to steer. On the straightaway’s, he wobbled. On the turns, he all-out flailed. Kat couldn’t stop laughing. And that didn’t seem to help. He laughed back and then lost whatever semblance of balance he had. He fell to the floor, pulling Kat down with him. They laughed even harder.

  Once she made it back on her feet, she pulled him up and they started again. “Haven’t you ever skated before?” she asked.

  “Only once,” he responded. “I broke my tailbone and never tried it again.”

  She laughed again. He fell on his butt. “I’m sorry,” she giggled. She helped him back up.

  He wasn’t smiling as much. “That one hurt.”

  “Tailbone?”

  “Actually, yeah. I’m going to have to sit on a donut again.”

  She stifled the laughter. She didn’t want to make him fall again. They got going on the straightaway, a decent speed even. Ben didn’t stumble once. And they made it through the turn. “Hey, you’re getting better,” Kat said. She jinxed him. He wobbled and fell again, though this time he fell forward onto his knees.

  “Crap,” he muttered. “I tore my jeans.” Sure enough, his well worn jeans gave way at the knee. “My favorite ones too.”

  “Should we go get you some kneepads? I bet one of Jackson’s little brothers would have a pair. Probably Transformers. Or Hotwheels. You’d look jammin.”

  “Don’t make fun of me, Ms. Stars on Ice.”

  “Actually, I can’t ice-skate. I’d be the one needing pads. You’d be making fun of me.”

  They got going again. Really, Ben was getting better. He just needed a little more practice, especially on the turns. And he didn’t need Kat to lose her balance—which she did when Jack zoomed past. It wasn’t so much the fact that he cut in front of them—Kat could have easily steered clear. But it was the way he skated, and the who he skated with. He was letting some … some vixen use his body as support while she shook her booty. They were only separated by an inch. On skates! Kat didn’t know how they were keeping their skates from tangling. She pictured Jack and his partner causing a twenty-skater pile-up. And it would include her and Ben. She looked at Ben; had he seen that, or was she hallucinating? Ben’s mouth was agape just like hers. She tried to catch up with Jackson—to ask him what he was thinking—but Ben couldn’t take the increased speed. He fell again. And he’d had enough.

  “Can we get out of here?” he asked.

  She led him toward the food court. He went to the DJ’s booth and spoke a few words with Dudley. The music stopped literally in midsentence. The skaters complained. Dudley got back on the intercom and announced the next contest. Essentially, it was red-light green-light played with music. And the first ten skaters to make it across the rink won an autograph from Ben.

  While Ben waited to meet ten eager skaters, Katrina went to find Jack. He was huddled in a corner of the rink, still with the blonde babe. She had him pinned against the wall, her face only inches away from his. It looked like they were about to kiss. Kat had never seen Jack this close to a girl before—and it wasn’t even a girl: it was a lady. No girl had curves like that.

  “Jack?” she asked.

  He turned to face her. He looked her up and down. “Hey, Kat,” he said. Then he turned his face back to the lady and whispered something to her. She laughed. Then she whispered back to Jack. Kat felt invisible.

  “Sorry to interrupt Jack, but can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Ah, no. I’m busy.”

  “I can see that,” Kat mumbled. She was getting irritated. Way irritated. What did he think he was doing? “Now, Jack.” She knew she sounded like his mom. But maybe that was what he needed.

  The lady backed up a few inches and looked at Kat with distaste.

  “No, Kat. Not now. I’m not at your beck and call,” Jackson said.

  Kat glared back. And now that the lady had stepped back from Jack, Kat got a better look at the vixen. She was old. Old enough to be Kat’s mom. Or Jack’s mom. Ick. Seriously ick. “Who’s your friend?” Kat questioned.

  “This is … ah, what’s your name again?” Jackson asked her.

  “I’m Stacey” She smiled at Kat. She even reached out to shake Kat’s hand. Kat didn’t take it.

  “How old are you?” Kat asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I asked you how old you are. ‘Cause you know he’s only sixteen, right?”

  “Sure, I know that,” Stacey said, putting her hand on Jack’s chest. “That’s old enough for me.”

  Yaak. Disgusting. “But it’s illegal. You’re at least fifteen years older. That’s wrong.”

  “Twenty,” Stacey said with a wink. “But who’s counting? And there’s no law that says we can’t flirt a little, right Jason?”

  “Jason?” Kat asked. She didn’t know if the lady’s hearing was bad or if Jack had given her a fake name. By the way Jack glared at Kat, she figured it was the latter.

  “Ben’s going to take me home, kay ‘Jason’?”

  “Perfect,” he said. He turned back to his slutty friend and his eyebrows lifted, like he was trying to be seductive. Kat didn’t know if she should laugh or throw up on his shoes. So she turned and left.

  Chapter Twenty-Five ……

  Heaven. Ben had finally found it, after a solid week of hell. It came in the form of a helicopter ride, a girl by his side, and the sun setting over the ocean. He’d arranged this to impress Kat. But he didn’t realize how much he needed this: this euphoria. His soul—which had been anchored to refuse buried deep within the earth—was finally soaring again. Floating above humanity.

  While Kat seemed nervous at first about boarding the helicopter, he could now see the excitement on her face. Uninhibited delight. And that added to Ben’s joy. Not only because he was the one who had brought her that happiness, but because she wasn’t holding back. He’d disengaged that internal kill switch.

  Kat had her arm intertwined with his. It felt like she had his hand in a death grip. Which—although slightly uncomfortable—was fine. Better than fine. It had been too long since he’d been able to touch her. And, at one point, it had seemed like he’d never get to
touch her again. She must have had the same feeling—that feeling of deprivation—because she was holding onto his hand for dear life. And while the cabin of the luxury helicopter was more than spacious, she was sitting so close that she probably could have shared his seat belt.

  “I have never been this far out on the ocean before,” she said.

  “You don’t get out much, do you?” he teased.

  “This is a really cool surprise,” she said. “But it’s unfair.”

  “Unfair? How?”

  “Because now I can’t say that I’ve never been in a helicopter before. And I’m still losing. I can’t think of a way to one-up you.”

  “Sure you can. I bet you’ve never broken your tailbone before. Or tore a pair of jeans while roller skating. Or humiliated yourself in public.”

  Her smile—which had been huge—grew smaller. Tight, shy like. She bit on the corner of her lip. “What?” Ben asked.

  She looked hesitant, like she didn’t want to reveal what she was thinking. Dang. That kill switch must have still an external override. But then she spoke. “That was … incredibly … sweet.”

  She inhaled deeply and said, “I’ll never—ever—forget it.”

  “Really? You enjoyed watching me make a fool of myself?” Was that all there was to it? Was that all he needed to do to impress Kat? If only he’d known that months ago. Here he’d been trying to be flawless. To be so suave and tantalizing.

  “You didn’t make a fool of yourself,” she started out flatly, but then she laughed, “…entirely.” She laughed again. She let go of his hand and grabbed his knee, where his jeans were torn. Her hand tickled his bare skin before she gave his knee a squeeze. “You just looked … real.”

  He gave a small chuckle and held her gaze. Her eyes were glowing—both from excitement and from the sky, which was streaked with amber. He didn’t want to look away—to lose that connection with her soul. He’d never seen such a beautiful spirit. The brightness, the vivacity, the tranquility that she carried with her—it was unparalleled. It wasn’t anything he would ever find in a pill bottle. And that was why he was here, with her now. Even after she’d nearly shattered his heart. He needed her. He couldn’t make it through the chaos that was his life without her sanguinity.

  “That surprises me,” he said, “that you want me to be normal.”

  “Not normal. Just … real. You have this amazing image—this image of perfection—and as … cool as it is to see that you’re all that, what’s even … cooler, is to see that you’re more than that. To know that your heart beats just like mine.”

  His lips couldn’t help but upturn. That was adorable … to see how hard that was for her to put into words. And even though her words were muddled—almost ineloquent—they sounded melodious to his ears. It was affirmation that he desperately needed. Especially since his heart was still partially bruised from her hesitance when he asked her to the prom. Could that have been any more painful? He would have died first from the embarrassment. And then he would have been revived, brought back to life, and then quickly tortured back to death with the implication of her rejection. And because of her hesitance, he needed to continue to look for any further confirmation of her affections as the night went on: as he wasn’t quite ready to expose his heart to the open air just yet. He needed to know that the air was habitable before he made that kind of life-altering gesture.

  “I don’t know, Kat,” he said, feeling his smile grow large enough to expose his teeth, “I don’t think my heart beats like yours. I think mine is beating twice as fast.” He wasn’t being a sycophant; that was the truth. His heart was racing like he’d just performed an entire set in front of twenty-thousand screaming fans.

  She bit on the bottom of her lip again. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’d be having a heart attack if your heart was beating any faster than mine.”

  So they had to compare. He placed two fingers on her wrist, she placed two fingers on his. And they counted. Kat’s was faster. By a long shot. “You always have a rapid heart rate?” he asked. Hers seriously was beating like she’d been jogging for an hour. His only felt that way.

  “It has been … ever since January.”

  “We met in January.”

  “Exactly.”

  Ben wanted to kiss her, but he restrained himself. He planned on saving that for later. So he had to joke—to try to distract himself. “So you’re saying that I’m bad for you. I’m hazardous to your health.”

  “Hmm, maybe,” she feigned a look of contemplation and then she shrugged, “but I feel like takin’ a walk on the wild side.”

  ……

  So the helicopter ride wasn’t the surprise. It was just the transportation. When Ben told Kat this, she looked excited. But when they landed in a dark field—in the middle of nowhere—she looked worried.

  She tried to joke, probably hoping to hide her nervousness. “Where are we—Kansas?”

  “No, Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas. We’re still in California.”

  “Kay. But … where exactly?”

  Ben looked around them, scanning the horizon in every direction. Perfect. Not a single light could be seen. He hadn’t remembered it being quite this dark out here. “I don’t really know,” he lied. “The pilot just had to put her down. A storm’s moving in.”

  Ben had a small flashlight to guide them on their excursion; he quickly pointed it in Kat’s direction. He wanted to see her expression. She must have believed him. Her eyebrows creased.

  “Kidding,” he said. He grabbed her hand and began to lead her along a trail to the north. At least he thought it was north. He looked up to the sky and found the big dipper. Yep. He was on the right trail. “We landed here on purpose. We should be done by the time the storm comes. If not … I guess we’ll just have to wait until morning to leave.”

  This time she must have realized that he was joking because she bumped him with her hip. His foot stepped off the trail, which at that point, was leading them up a slight hill. He lost his footing, albeit briefly. But he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He turned off the flashlight and hit the ground with a fake, “Humph!”

  “Oh my gosh! Ben! Ben! Are you okay?”

  He groaned. “My leg!” he cried. “I can’t move!”

  “The flashlight! Where’s the flashlight? I can’t see you!”

  He could hear the panic in her voice. She was seriously freaking. He could keep going with this … but he knew he’d probably make her mad. Which might ruin the evening. She might hold it against him when it came time to cozy up. So he flicked the light on and shined it at her. He stood up and then shined the light on the ground in front of him, so that she could see that the incline was rather gradual.

  By the time he made it the few steps back to the trail, she was scowling. “You …” she stammered, “you … pug!”

  “Oh, the insults you sling! Like daggers in my heart!”

  He was smiling when he grabbed her hand again. She was pouting. “That was … really mean. And … immature. I thought I hurt you.”

  “Then maybe you should be more careful: not throw your weight around so much,” he teased.

  That got a slight smile out of her. But she grumbled something under her breath. Something about him being chipper. He pursed his lips together to keep from laughing. Yes, he was chipper. Jovial even. It felt so incredibly refreshing to be away from the watchful eye of the world. And to be without airs. To be able to be just Ben. Not a Wilder.

  They came to a fork in the path. A small wooden sign marked the intersection. Ben took the path to the left, the path that was marked with a painted white star.

  “What is this place?” Kat asked.

  “It’s a ranch. It belongs to a friend of Paul’s.”

  “It must be … big.”

  Yeah, ranches typically are. But that’s not what Ben said. He didn’t want to make her feel snickerdoodle (Katism for estúpido). So instead, he told her the acreage—which was rather significant. And then
he told her more about the land—how it had been in the owner’s family for four generations.

  “So did you bring me out here to ride horses … or brand cattle or something?” Her voice sounded like she was trying to be light—trying to joke—but he could tell that she was dying from the suspense. He wondered who held the record for being able to keep a secret from Kat the longest. He also thought of a very fitting saying. Something about her name and curiosity killing. He wasn’t going to say that out loud either. She’d slug him.

  “It’s not really a working ranch anymore. It’s just a hobby ranch. A get-a-way. Henry only comes here once or twice a year. And besides that … it’s dark. I know that you’re wanting to get wild, but riding horses in the dark is just downright dangerous …

  Ouch!” She punched him on the shoulder. “I need to sign you up for cage-fighting.”

  They crested a hill and Ben could see the outline of the building against the dark sky. He led her to the small outbuilding, which was only about twelve-by-twelve. He went to the north side of the building and shined the flashlight along the wood paneling until he saw the black keypad. He glanced at Kat: she looked perplexed. And a tad nervous. Something dawned on him. He’d dragged her out to the middle of the forest. No one was around. And now he was going to take her inside a shed that essentially looked like a fortress—lacking windows and only one armed door for entrance. What would be going through her head at this moment?

  “Any idea what we’re doing here?” he asked.

  “Um … mowing the lawn, maybe?”

  He let go of her hand so he could enter the code. If she turned and ran, he’d know. He’d know that she didn’t trust him. Which would be heartbreaking. But she stayed.

  Once he pressed enter, the whirl of an engine could be heard. And then the clanking of chains and the creaking of wood. A panel on the front of the shed folded down to the ground, just like a garage door going in reverse. A section of the roof folded back simultaneously, the panels sliding flush with the rear wall. The shed was practically empty. There were just two stools and a large white instrument.