Dad clears his throat and his chest expands more than a usual breath. Thoughts race in my head, wondering how much more of a bombshell he can drop on me.
“He wrote me a note, Walter. Wrapped inside was a receipt for payment of boat hire for two weeks. Sleeps eight. Your mother and I are taking time off work to go. It leaves in a week. Tahny jumped at the idea. She’ll be bringing little Adam along. I didn’t know when was the right time to tell you since we’ve only had about one or two proper conversations in the last month, but we’d really like you to come. Actually, Walter would. All of us. He specifically said, ‘I’m sorry if our broken friendship ruined the relationships around you but this is my way of giving you guys a second chance since I can’t be around to do it myself, and we took too long to sort our issues out.’”
I have no doubt those were the exact words Walter used. Dad repeated them in a robotic voice, as if reading from a mental picture. Now knowing about my dad’s note, I wonder how many Walter wrote to say goodbye to everyone he loved.
“Don’t have a heart attack, but actually, I’d like to come along,” I say. “Only if I can bring a guest.”
Dad winks.
He knows this guest is more than a “friend”.
Is this what he thinks of me? How I appear? That I treat girls like a fun time, not like humans who have feelings? Well, never again. I only have one girl in my life from now on and I’ll make sure of it.
32. Rosalicious
Charlee
I wait at the bench behind the same milk bar where I met Elliot weeks ago. So much has changed that I expect him to look different—have a beard, grown out his hair and dyed it black, perhaps. When he walks around the corner, though, and plops down on the other side of the bench, his short blonde hair is the same. He hands me a milkshake. I crack open the lid and stick my nose in the gap. Bubblegum, sweet bubblegum. I peek inside and sure enough there are marshmallows floating on top.
“I’ll try not to spill this one,” I say, gripping the cup firmly and taking a big mouthful.
“Better not. You’re special but not that special I’d drive all the way back to The Crooked Shelf to make you a new one.”
We slurp our milkshakes, discussing how bubblegum is better than strawberry. That’s how I see it, anyhow. He has this crazy idea that bubblegum milkshakes happen to “suck”.
There’s a break in the conversation not long after. My eyes drop down to my empty cup.
“I…um. I have something to say, Elliot.”
Why did I tack on his name? I made this announcement sound important and formal, which it sort of is, but still. The air conditioner fan at the back of the milk bar stirs, the whirring sound filling the unwanted silence. However, it’s also so silent we can hear the bell at the door. I count three customers.
“I need to apologize. For using you.”
“Wow. Well, this is actually a compliment, for such a pretty girl like yourself to feel as though you should use my body and mind for pleasure.”
I giggle and slap his arm. I scoot closer so we’re not a body space apart, but sitting just like friends chatting normally behind a milk bar, having a regular conversation about work or shopping or problems with our lives.
“It’s Dex. I don’t know what we are yet, so don’t bother asking me to describe it to you, but I want to thank you for being so understanding about all this before it even made sense to me.”
“Two things.” Elliot ticks one off with his other finger. “If you’d asked me to be your boyfriend before that night I came over, I’d have said yes because I liked you.” He hushes me with a finger when I open my mouth. He ticks off a second finger. “The other thing is that I’d be making a mistake and losing my best friend at the same time because I couldn’t tell you if we’d have worked out, but you’re Dex’s life. And I know I can’t top that.”
“I know it looks like we’re together and everything, and we might be soon, but it was only because of what we thought was going on between our dads. We haven’t even been out on a date or anything.”
“Charlee, I never said you look like a good couple. I said you are each other’s lives. Dex is a sloppy mess, writing lovesick song lyrics about you when he won’t talk to anyone about what’s going on in his head, and when you’re together he’s pumped full of the type of ecstasy that drugs can’t provide.”
Elliot locks onto my eyes and says, “He doesn’t need to tell me he’s in love with you. That’s written in everything he is. I’m not an asshole. I’m stepping back from this.”
I gasp, trying to hide it with a fragile smile. I arrange my hair, finger-combing it although it’s getting greasy and needs a wash.
“Thanks, Elliot, really. I can’t believe you’re such an awesome guy and you’re fine with this, but I know Dex doesn’t love me. He really likes being with me and all, but we’re just good at keeping each other company—in a weird way, I suppose.”
“I’m the rat in this situation because I somehow missed the bit about Dex having a crush on you for like five years.” Elliot gets all awkward and then stands and jerks his head toward the milk bar. “Let’s grab some raspberry white-chocolate bullets; I’ve been craving them like crazy.” When I stand and begin walking with him, he adds, “I think you just gotta figure out the ‘love’ bit by yourself.”
Not looking ahead of me, I bump straight into some girl. I look up and find Rosa rubbing her head. “You bitch!” She perks up a toothy smile and kisses my cheek. “Hi baby.” She turns to Elliot and sticks out her hand. “Is this your rebound dude?”
“No, Dex and I are working things out, actually. You know that.” As if I haven’t spent enough on phone calls explaining exactly what’s going on. Sheesh, the girl loves stirring up trouble.
“I’m Elliot. Just Elliot,” he says, shaking her hand.
“So in no way associated with this head-bumping freak?” she says.
No sooner does Elliot shake his head than Rosa gives him a peck on the lips. “In that case, hi. I’m Rosa, affiliated with this freak.”
“Excuse me,” she says, pushing between us and looping her arms through one of each of ours.
Inside, we grab two bulging paper bags full of chocolate and candy of every color and texture imaginable. We have exactly one and a half bags more sweets than Elliot and I had planned pre-Rosa. We walk farther down to a park.
As Rosa and Elliot squish their bodies under an enclosed platform leading the way down a massive playground slide, I watch them from ground level, smiling. I can see that she likes Elliot. And why not? He’s adorable, poster-boy adorable, but he’s not for me. He’s her sort of fun—not mine—and anything I’ve been pretending to want has been in an effort to protect myself from Dexter rejecting me.
Elliot is the type I could be happy with—anyone could really be happy with—but Dexter is my one-of-a-kind path to love, trust, standing up for me, and happiness. And more.
I walk off to my car in silence, texting Rosa, You keep your paws out of his pants. He’s a good, nice boy. Now have fun alone with him.
All that’s left is to sort out my relationship status with Dex for good.
33. It Goes a Little Something Like This
Dexter
It happens like this:
I sit outside her house, waiting for her to come back from work at the pool in the half hour gap before she leaves to pick up Darcy from school.
Charz arrives, parks in one of the garages, and disappears up through the house.
I hold down the doorknob, slide through the gap, and only release the knob once it’s latched. It doesn’t so much as click.
I jog up the stairs to her bedroom.
Charz is curled over a laminated paper, writing up a lesson plan for her next shift.
I slip my hands around her waist from behind and caress the smooth skin of her belly. My mouth brushes her ear. I kiss that bit just behind her lobe.
She lets out a tiny shriek of surprise.
I hush her, reassuring her tha
t it’s just me.
I want her to be my girlfriend, but can’t tell her yet, or it’ll ruin my plan.
I almost tell her I love her.
Charz kisses me back.
“You have to say yes if I ask you something,” I say.
“Yes,” she says, sliding her hands into the ass pockets on my jeans.
“Come on a boat cruise with my family.”
She freezes. I wait for a moment, knowing a million thoughts are flying through her head. I kiss her earlobe again, pulling her tighter against me because when our touch is this intense, she must enjoy it as much as I do.
“Yes,” she whispers.
34. Finding Forever For Us
Charlee
Less than a week later, a miracle happens. Darcy packs his own backpack with only one reminder. He brings only a music player, leaving every other form of electronic device in our house. I bring my cell, but only to call Dex when we’ve made it to the dock.
Darcy and I take the highway to the Murray River. We make a joke of the fact that at ten, my little brother has traveled to continents across the globe, but hasn’t even crossed the border to New South Wales, the next state over. He likes that he’ll be straddling both Victorian and New South Wales’ states when he stands in the Murray.
We say bye to my little car in the gravel parking lot, nestled between the Hollingworth’s car and another SUV shying away on the other side.
“Babe,” Dex calls.
I heft one bag over my shoulder, drag my other behind me and acknowledge him with my only spare body part—my chin. He jogs up the path, stones crunching under his step, and his face comes at me too fast to react. He dodges at the last moment and hauls my third, and last, bag over his shoulder. He thinks it’s hilarious I nearly very did crap myself.
“Babe?” I ask him in a mock tone.
“Three bags?”
I wink. “Let’s agree to disagree.”
“Ew!” Darcy says, pretending to retch. “You coulda just asked me to stay behind.”
“Dude,” Dex says, one hand on Darcy’s shoulder as we walk to the pier where our massive houseboat is floating, “it’s a family affair, so you didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”
Darcy gives me a legitimately confused look, which I file away with my luggage bag. We’ll talk later.
The houseboat Dad has organized for us is two storys high and as long as a semi-trailer. It’s a shiny white house fused to a floating platform, and dressed with curtains that peek from inside windows, a fishing deck on one side, a net that hovers over the other side, and lounge chairs lining the deck.
“That’s some boat,” I whisper to Dex just as we board.
He takes my hand as we cross the gap to the deck and onto the steps leading to the hull’s wooden decking. In the meals area it’s…bare.
Inside there isn’t so much as a TV, laptop, microwave or dishwasher. There’s a stove, thankfully, but what’s more amazing is the table. It’s not rectangular where you’d have to pitch condiments to the person at the other end. This table is massive and round, made of polished wood and sitting atop a platform. There are built-in cavities for bowls and dishes. Family couldn’t be any closer than like this. Beyond, out the back of the houseboat is a thick mesh platform with steps disappearing below the water level.
I wonder what the other rooms are like.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my dad has planned this so everyone has to stay together, work together. Smart of my dad, because this gift is perfect. Between the distractions of electronics and work, so many people these days don’t appreciate each other in the same way that maybe they used to.
Dex and I look up at the same time. The sparkle in his eyes tells me we’ve just thought the same thing.
“First dibs,” Dex cries before I can get a word in. I drop my half-ton of luggage at the same time he drops my bag, too. I manage a fistful of his T-shirt, which he dodges by bending down. Fortunately for me, it comes clean off and from behind all I see are Dex’s back and shoulder muscles flexing as he straightens, and the dimples in his lower back, just above his board shorts.
Unfortunately for him, this slows him as well since he loves staring at me and my jaw-dropping expression must be a sight. I side-step around him, grabbing at the rails to the stairs to the top level as if an axe murderer is on my tail. He gets me this time, securing his big hands around my waist.
And as if I’m a bag of feathers, he whips me over his shoulder and runs up the stairs. Nobody—not Darcy, Lisa, Mick, Tahny—follow us, though the toddler, Adam, chuckles a little laugh at the sight of us.
“Hey!” I scream when Dex throws me on a bed in one of the bedrooms.
He shuts the door with his foot, then asks me to stay put and locks the door.
“Nice,” I mumble, turning away so my hair hides my grin. “The only person who seems to care about my kidnapping is your nephew and I doubt he could—”
Dex’s lips crash into mine, tumbling him over me on the bed. He picks me up by my waist and pushes me up to the pillows. As I lean in to kiss him back, he bites his lip, turning away.
“No,” is all he says.
He pushes me back on to the pillows, and as I think he’s about to pull the strap from my shoulder, he picks it up and secures it firmly back in place. He brushes the back of his hand down my arm, back up, and cups my chin. He leans over me and rests his cheek against mine, one side of his nose touching the other side of mine.
“What are you—”
“No,” he repeats. Shaking his head, he says, “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”
Okay, so what are we doing, then?
He sings:
Lust is when you breathe in my ear / Like is how you churn me inside / Love is the home right here—and Dex places his palm to my heart—Life is us on this unstoppable ride.
As he finishes the words I fling my hand over my eyes, feeling the tears coming.
“Charz,” he whispers, pulling away my arm.
I don’t want him to see me like this. I’m meant to say thank you, right? Or give him a cheesy smile? Maybe burst into happy laughter? Instead, silent happiness streaks down the side of my nose, edging my lip, off my chin…
And onto Dex’s finger. He wipes both my eyes with his thumbs. “What’s wrong, babe? Did…did you like it?”
“Y-you…sang to me?”
Dex pulls a face. “Well, duh. That was my singing voice and since there’s no one else here, it was for you. My baby is so smart.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. Fine, he wants to be like this? “What’s song’s that?”
“It’s mine. I wrot—,” Dex starts, then realizes how I got him right back, just as easily.
“I’m that special, huh?”
“You’re the only special to me. Charz, I’ve been an ass to you for so long. I’ve been thinking, and you’re right. I didn’t let people get to know me. I didn’t like showing people I have diabetes. I pushed you away for ages thinking I did the unforgiveable by being responsible for your parents with the ski accident…” he trails off and I can only guess what he’s thinking.
“It’s fine. I should be sorry. I start poking around in your life like I deserve every answer—I’m the one with unreal ideals.”
“No, that’s the thing. I’ve never had a girlfriend besides Lily and she died with Jack in the car crash.
“That’s what those tattoos are about—my brother and that crash and so many things I can’t say to his face now. I never told anyone I had diabetes outside of my blood relatives, Elliot and Lily. Never let anyone get too close to me. As a kid we moved as soon as I got close to any of my friends. Dad’s moved us all over the world in hope of The Job.
“I grew up for years without a father just when I needed him. I suppose I kept everything to myself since it felt natural. I held people back from my secrets and fears so I couldn’t risk hurting, but that wasn’t living at all. I had a half-life before you.”
Dex
sandwiches my hand between his, brings it up to his lips and holds me there. Kisses me. “Our dads were friends from fifteen. One accusation from my father to yours caused a rift that separated best friends for the rest of their lives. They spent longer apart than they did together as friends. Your dad gave us money for Jack’s funeral, and my dad was saving up to wire the gifted amount back, ‘cause he knew Walter would never accept it willingly. But at the end of the day, it’s just money. In the end, my dad never got to apologize to your dad.”
Dex has learnt a lot since the day we looked over the yearbooks. I want to ask why and how, but I don’t because it makes so much sense. Why Dad would always extend his business trip by a day or two when he went to America. Why I’d heard Mom and him talking about things that never made sense as a kid.
I imagine their lives—best friends separated by a fight that consumed them. No wonder Mick seems to be so distant from the rest of the family. Who wouldn’t become their regret, and lose themselves, when one mistake you made changed so much. I imagine never speaking to Rosa again, and bile rises in my throat, sending an awful feeling down my spine.
Dex pulls me against his side, so his body heat from his taut chest muscles sears my skin through my thin summer dress. “I don’t want to spend decades bumping into each other at shopping malls, or saying congratulations to each other on getting married to other people. All I know is I can’t stand not being around you. I think about you as I fix a cracked radiator at work, while I’m at the gym, in my sleep. I tried forgetting you initially, but I couldn’t and I don’t want to. I’ve changed these last weeks with you. Not into someone else, but you’ve taken away this shell I used to block everyone else from myself and now that I can breathe you and touch you and be with you, I think I feel more like me.”
Wow. “What about things you keep saying about everyone else—your friends, strangers?”
“Between you and me,” Dex says, leaning inches from my lips, “I think the world can go screw itself if it’s trying to keep us apart. But now the most important demand.”
Drowning in You Page 25
