by RH Tucker
“Are you hurt?”
I expected Jackson to be the first one to check on me. Maybe, Carter. Hearing Jen’s voice is the last voice I expected. I shake my head, still staring out at the waves, unwilling to make eye contact with her.
“Maybe I should rephrase that … are you okay?”
I glance back at her, confused. “What?”
“Since the lake, are you okay?”
“I …” I stare at her. “I don’t know.”
“I told Jackson I’d check on you.” She looks back over at the bonfire and I can see Jackson hanging out with Carter and Matt. Jeremy seems to be stewing and, surprisingly, Franco seems like he’s the one trying to calm him down. “I know I’ve been ignoring you and everything that happened. I just want things to go back to normal.”
“Normal,” I chuckle. “I have no idea what normal is for us anymore.”
“Yeah,” she whispers as she looks down at the sand.
“I should’ve never kissed Rebecca,” I blurt out. I don’t know why, but it’s the first thing on my mind. Jen’s eyes shoot up to meet mine. “I was nervous. I liked you for so long, and,” I chuckle and shake my head, “you’re not gonna believe this, but I really did want to ask you to that dance. But when you asked me first, I freaked. Some people throw up when they get nervous. Some people have to go to the bathroom. For whatever reason, my eighth-grade brain decided that in order to not be nervous, I should kiss Rebecca and try to be cool.”
“Oh.” It’s barely audible.
“I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
She’s staring at me for what feels like an eternity. I want to look away―because after my word vomit of coming clean, I feel stupid and embarrassed and pathetic―but I can’t. I watch her, watching me, and then she smiles.
“Did you need a ride home?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I came with Jackson.”
“Oh, yeah.” She nods.
Is she offering to take me home right now? She is. Abort! Change your plans stat, Lucas!
“But …” I find Jackson in the crowd, and he appears to be laughing and talking with a girl. “He seems to be busy. Were you planning on leaving right now?”
“Yeah.” She grins. “I think that’s enough excitement for me tonight.”
“Cool, let’s go.”
Chapter 20
Jen
I don’t know what I’m doing.
We reached the crowd just as Lucas hit Franco in the face. I know Franco’s taken karate since he was five years old. And it shows, as Jackson rushes over at Jeremy, Lucas gets back to his feet and swings again, only this time Franco’s not caught off guard. He moves out of the way and hits Lucas in the face with a back hand and then in the stomach with a kick. And I feel horrible.
Horrible because Franco looks at me like he made a mistake. Not about dating me, but whatever was said between the two of them. He looks like he wants to apologize.
“Jen―”
“Don’t,” I stop him.
Lucas walks toward the water and I follow after him, but I don’t know why I’m going after him. Jackson gets separated from Jeremy and rushes over to me.
“Jen, right?”
“Yeah.” I nod. We’ve never officially met, but I know who Jackson is from school.
“I think I should go check on him,” he says.
“Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off and keep walking.
I still don’t know what I’m doing.
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I answer without looking back.
Lucas stares out over the dark ocean with his hands in his pockets. I stand behind him for a minute, just watching him. The moon glows off his skin, and with its reflection it makes his hair look more like my color, than its usual dark blond shade. Then it hits me. I know what I’m doing. I’m trying to get my life back in order. I’m trying to get over Franco, get over Lucas, get over everything. I just want things to be normal again.
I ask him how he is, and he just shakes his head. When I ask about the lake, that gets his attention. I don’t know what I expect him to say, but when he blurts out about kissing Rebecca, I’m caught off guard. And then he says it.
“I’m sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
He’s apologized before. But something about this―right now―about the way he looks at me, like he’s been in pain all these years for doing what he did. I want to forgive him. My brain always wanted to forgive him, it’s my heart that’s held a grudge for so long.
The thought hits me that maybe tonight’s the night. Maybe tonight, after years of being angry with him and wanting to ignore that fact that I love him as I try to hate him, that tonight I should just let it all wash away. Like the footprints on this beach that’ll be gone by morning.
“Did you need a ride home?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I came with Jackson.”
“Oh, yeah.”
I didn’t know that, but I pretend like I do. I gaze at the ground, sure that our moment in time has passed us by.
“But, he seems to be busy. Were you planning on leaving right now?”
“Yeah,” I smile, “I think that’s enough excitement for me tonight.”
“Cool, let’s go.”
And so, we go. We avoid everyone else on the beach. I don’t search for Emma, instead sending her a text that I’m leaving. She must see me, because she just replies ‘Ok’.
Lucas gets in on the passenger side and rolls down the window, staring out of it as I drive, both of us staying silent. As I pull into my driveway and turn off the engine, he looks past me and over at his house.
“Damn, my parents are still up.”
“Yeah, coming home with a bloody face, smelling of whiskey, probably won’t go over great.”
“I smell?” He cringes.
“Just a little.” I giggle. “The blood is the main culprit though.”
“Yeah,” he replies, leaning back in the seat. “Um, I can just chill here, if you don’t mind. I’ll wait till they go upstairs, then I can go in unnoticed.”
“No, that’s stupid. Come inside, my aunt’s not home, she’s out of town at one of her conventions.”
He stares at me with trepidation. “You sure?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I’ll clean you up.”
“Jen, you don’t have to do that.”
“It’s the least I can do. You cleaned up my puke, remember? It seems only right I clean up your blood.”
He laughs. “Okay. But just so you know, puke is a way bigger deal than blood.”
“Shut up.” I laugh and get out of the car.
We go inside, and I head directly to the bathroom to grab a towel. It’s not until I start to wet it that I realize he hasn’t followed me. Instead, he’s standing in the living room, perusing the pictures on a bookshelf.
“It’s been forever since I’ve been in here,” he says, looking at a picture Nancy has up from when I was in tenth grade.
“Not much has changed,” I tell him. He turns to me and smirks, keeping his eyes on mine. “Okay, maybe a few things have changed.”
His smirk turns in to a full-blown smile. “Do you still have your pony collection in your room?”
I was in love with My Little Pony. I had dozens of dolls. Most of them are put away in our attic, but I do have a couple out on my dresser. Not that I’m telling Lucas that.
“No.”
I don’t know if he can see through me or just doesn’t believe me, but his eyes pop open. “You do!”
He doesn’t wait. He whisks past me, toward my room. “Luc, no, I don’t.”
He swings my door open and turns the light on. “Ha, I knew it!”
“It’s not the whole collection.” I cross my arms when I get to the door.
His joyful attitude fades a little, as he steps deeper in my room and looks around. Like his, my rooms changed as I’v
e gotten older. Gone are a lot of the posters, the princess bed sheets, and my Barbie collection. Although, there are still a few stuffed animals that I never wanted to get rid of. He picks one up, a purple raccoon.
“You still have Mr. Purple Eyes.”
“Yeah.” I know, not the best name, but it was the first one I thought of when my aunt gave him to me. I walk into the room and sit on my bed. “Sit down.”
He eyes the bed carefully for a moment, then sits next to me. I gently swab the towel over his bloody lip, and he cringes.
“Why were you two fighting?”
He closes his eyes, giving a slight shake of his head. “It’s not important.”
“It’s not?”
He takes a deep breath, looks over at me, then closes his eyes again. “I was being stupid. I was pissed off at him for being an ass. For not realizing that you liked him like you did.”
“Luc―”
“No, it’s okay. You never said anything, but I know you did. And I was mad at him for being so flippant about it.”
I pull the wet towel down, staring at it. “I was the stupid one. I should’ve known he didn’t like me like that. I mean, looking back on it, he never gave me any reason to think he was falling for me or anything like that.”
“And that’s why he’s stupid.”
“Luc, I can’t be mad at him for not liking me like that. It’s not like he cheated on me or something.”
“You can’t, but I can.” I haven’t looked back up at him but now I do, as he puts his fingers under my chin. “I can be mad at anyone who doesn’t see what I see. What I’ve always seen. You’re beautiful and smart and funny. You’re it, Jen.”
I feel my face getting red. “You’re just saying that because you’ve known me forever.”
“Maybe I am,” he replies, grinning. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s true.”
We both fall silent, staring at one another, and I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what should or shouldn’t happen here. All I know is that I want to kiss him.
My eyes jump to his lips, and I see the small cut on the side that I cleaned. Raising my hand, my fingers graze across his lip. He leans in closer, his hand sliding over my knee, then around my waist. It floats up, under the sweater I’m wearing, and when his skin touches mine I feel the electricity. The same jolt that I felt at the lake. And it sparks something inside.
“Take your pants off.”
The whisper is out of my mouth before I even realize what I’m saying. He stares back at me, unsure. But I leave no room for second guessing when I pull off my sweater.
He leans back, kicking his shoes off and removing his pants. When he leans forward I grab his shirt, yanking it off him before I sit down over him. His hands wrap around me, and the charge of his hands on my back sends another shock through me and we still haven’t even kissed.
Sitting on top of him, I hover over his lips, as he looks up at me. We stare at each other, like we’re daring the other one to kiss first. I want to know if this is what he wants. I want him to make the next move.
“Are you sure about this?” Reaching up, he brushes his thumb across my cheek.
As soon as my head nods his lips collide into mine, and the electricity from before turns into a lightning storm. His hands sweep through my hair, as my arms wrap around him. Our lips are like waves crashing into rocks, and he lets out a moan―either of pain from his busted lip or from the taste of me. Whichever it is, I return the sound then run my tongue over his lips.
Turning us around, he hovers over me, his arms holding him in place as his lips still search mine. There are no more moments of doubt running through me. I’m tired of doubting what could or couldn’t be. Of fearing someone breaking my heart. I don’t know what this is, and I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, I just know I want this now. Even if nothing comes of this, I want to keep this for me. Something I can remember forever.
I unravel my hands from around him, pressing them to his chest. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Do you …” I press my lips together, “have protection?”
He smiles. The same smile I fell in love with all those years ago. “Yeah, I think so.”
Crawling to the side of the bed, he reaches down for his pants and grabs his wallet, when his phone chimes.
Looking over at me, a coy smile crosses his lips. “Not that I always stay prepared or anything like that.”
I roll my eyes at him with a smirk. “Better always prepared than not.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
His phone goes off again.
“Need to check that?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.” Crawling back over, he lays down next to me. “Jen, this is going to change everything. You know that, right?”
I do know that. I don’t know what this will change to, but whatever it is, it has to be good. Right? We’ve got too much history for it to go wrong. And the way he looks at me. Even if I don’t believe I’m lovable, he looks at me like I am. He looks at me like I’m all he needs. I want that.
“You promise?” I tease him, when his phone goes off again. “Lucas, who is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, can you turn your phone to silent or something?”
“Yeah.” He grabs his pants and pulls out the phone, his demeanor instantly changing.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head.
“What?” I look at him, unsure why the sudden change.
“It’s nothing.”
Grabbing the phone from him as he tries to turn it off, my jaw drops. Of all the mistakes I’ve ever made and all the stupid things I’ve ever done, I instantly wish I could take back what I just did. He reaches for the phone, but I jerk it away, sitting up.
“What is this?”
“It’s not what it seems.”
I read the first message on the phone. “Hey, just got out of work. Bummed I missed the bonfire. I missed you.”
“Jen, please―”
“I’m glad you invited me though. I was worried you might not like me for a second.”
“Damn it, stop.”
“You must be asleep or something. Text me tomorrow. I can’t wait for our date.”
He rakes his hands over his face, letting out a growl of annoyance, which just pisses me off more.
“What the hell, Lucas?”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Yeah, you said that already, but I’m having a hard time believing it. You’re going out with someone?”
“No. I mean, yeah, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Jen, please, just let me explain. I―”
“No.”
He jerks his head back. “What?”
“You should leave.”
“You can’t be serious.”
I stare at him like he’s lost him mind. “I can’t be serious? Me? You’re the one who’s dating someone.”
“We’re not dating.” I look at him like he just told me the sky is green. “I mean, we are, kind of, but … ugh!”
Without another word between us, he gets off my bed and throws on his pants and shirt. Forcing his shoes on, he hops over to my door. I just sit on my bed, my arms crossed, stewing in vexation.
“If you’d just let me explain,” he says, standing next to the door.
“Explain what, Luc? There’s nothing to explain.”
“Yes, there is. Yes, I went out with Sasha, but she’s not you.”
My mouth drops. “She’s not me. Are you serious? That’s great, how romantic. Every little girl dreams about being compared to another girl and being told ‘she’s not you’.”
“Damn it, Jen, no one is you! Don’t you get that? I compare everyone to you. I couldn’t get you out of my head throughout high school and now that I’ve kissed you, I’m completely fucked. You’ve ruined me for everyone. And the crazy part is, it’s not your fault. It’s not my fa
ult. It just is. And I have to live with it. So, I’m sorry if I was trying to move on after you rejected me at the lake. Maybe you’ll be happy to know that there is no moving on for me. When I’m with another girl, when I even try to think of another girl, your face pops up. Your face, your smell, your taste. You.”
He stops talking and I want to look over. I want to believe him, because it sounds true. And what I wouldn’t give for someone to be consumed like that over me. To know that I’m their world. But I can’t get the words I read off the screen out of my head. And knowing that just reinforces my own fears.
I hear his footsteps getting farther away, and then I hear the front door open and close. Then he’s gone.
Chapter 21
Lucas
Have you ever had a dream that midway through turned to a nightmare? But then, as the nightmare plays out, suddenly it turns back into a dream? A fantasy that you’ve been wanting to be real for so long, but you never thought it would be? That’s what I’m having right now.
I remember the beach and hitting Franco. For reasons I couldn’t begin to understand, Jen was the one who came over to check on me, after Franco went all kung-fu on me. We ended up in her house, on her bed, and she cleaned up my bloody lip. She was so close I could smell the honey perfume she usually wore. Her fingers floated over my lips, and before I knew it I was shirtless, she was in her bra, and we were making out.
Suddenly, dread takes over, because now we’re fighting. Fighting over my stupidity, once again. I really should offer my brain up to science once I’m dead because there must be something wrong with it on a molecular level, that forces me to do stupid things or make stupid decisions. She’s yelling at me and I’m trying to explain that I don’t really like the girl who’s texting me. But she doesn’t want to hear it. She kicks me out.
But as I walk out her front door, I’m suddenly transported to our treehouse. The one my dad helped me build. Jen and I would spend hours in there during the weekends. It isn’t really a treehouse, more of a fort, since the only trees in our backyard are palm trees, but we called it that anyways. Only, we’re in it and we’re not kids anymore. And she’s back on top of me, kissing me, running her hands through my hair.
