The Summer of Me & You

by Rae Hachton

  “Mom, can I borrow some nail polish?”

  “Maybe. What do you need it for?”

  “My nails.” What else did she think I needed it for?

  “Kayleigh, the obvious one,” she said, sliding open her nail polish drawer.

  Mom, I thought, the moronic one. Seriously? What else could I do with the nail polish? That was a stupid question. Of course, I'd never say that aloud.

  Mom had so much nail polish. A color for every occasion. Didn't know why she had so much. She never wore any of it and she didn't go on any dates either. I searched in the drawer for a color I liked, a color I could see myself comfortably wearing. When I found the sky blue bottle, I knew I'd found the perfect shade. Yes! This was exactly what I wanted. I closed the drawer back.

  “You can keep that one,” she said. “Never did like blue.”

  “Thanks.” I turned around to go to my room, but mom said. “Kayleigh?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you're going out with Kaleb Friday night, you should buy something new to wear. Girls should always wear a new outfit on their first date.” She reached into her wallet and handed me three ten dollar bills.

  “Thirty dollars? Really?” I didn't understand the sudden change in her. “And you know I'm going on a date with him?”

  “Of course I do, Kayleigh. You don't have to tiptoe around the subject anymore. That's why you came up here, isn't it?” She glanced at me. I always felt like I was under constant scrutiny in her presence. That I'd never measure up.

  “When you were out with Gunner, he stopped by and politely asked if he could come over and ask you out on a date. He wanted to know if I'd be okay with it.”

  Wow, he'd asked her before he asked me? He wasn't afraid of anything.

  “And you're okay with it?”

  “No,” she tossed her powder pack over in her bag, “I'm not okay with it. But I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself why I don't want you around him. You're hard headed and telling you isn't going to do much good.”

  That was like a slap to the face. The only reason she'd “agreed” to the date was because she thought he'd disappoint me, upset me, hurt me in some way. More than that, she wanted him to. She was looking forward to it, which is why she'd given me money and let me borrow her polish.

  “Still don't like him. I'm only giving him a chance for you. If he screws this up—”

  Which is what she expected from him, I didn't. “—He won't, mom. I told you. He's different.”

  She gave a weak smile and kissed me on my forehead. “I've gotta get to work.” She turned away and gathered her things, stuffing them into her bag. “I'll call you later.”

  When I was back in my room, I closed the door. I dove onto my bed and squealed. I was so happy. I reached for my cell and found Kaleb's number. I had to call him.

  “Hey, Kayleigh,” he said. “You didn't change your mind about our date, did you?”

  “No way.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sharp

  *

  On Friday night, the plan was to take Kayleigh on a special date. Gunner hooked me up with a film projector, a portable projector board and a film reel loaded with old films such as Nosferatu. I bought a huge bag of Skittles and found a perfect viewing spot away from everyone else, up on a grassy hillside that overlooked the town. Most referred to the place as make-out point. The night would be spent watching old horror films, talking, laughing and possibly...more. But exactly twenty minutes before I left to pick her up, Stephen entered into one of his drinking moods and refused to let me borrow “his” car. I'd forgotten he'd be home. I'd already cleared the date with Mom who'd agreed to let me borrow the car, but now she took his side.

  “You're not borrowing the car, Kaleb. I don't want you driving it.” That's exactly what Stephen said to me after I'd gotten ready for my date. If he was going to do this, Mom should've alerted me sooner so I could've made other arrangements. The sudden change pissed me off.

  “C'mon,” I spiraled, about ready to punch a wall. “Mom, you promised.” I looked at her for help.

  Stephen launched into a fucking soliloquy. I tuned out about halfway in. “Your mother doesn't have the authority to lend you my car just because...”

  It wasn't even his car. Dammit. I paced up and down the floor.

  “Mom! Please tell him how important this is to me. Do you know how long it took me to convince Mommie Dearest to allow me to take her daughter out on a date? Tell the Grinch why I need his car. If I fuck up, the apocalypse is gonna happen. She'll never let me see Kayleigh again.” I tugged on my hair.

  Stephen flew up from the recliner. “Kaleb!”

  I hated it when he yelled my name. It infuriated me.

  “—For the last time, no. You're out of control. Now sit down.” He pointed to the couch and that did it for me.

  “Y'know what? Screw this. I don't have to listen to you.”

  “Kaleb, sit down,” my mother backed him up. She was only doing that because Stephen was home.

  “Bullshit I will. He let's Rebekah do whatever the hell she wants. She's twenty-one, doesn't have to have a job, she's a drug addict who dates a junkie, she neglects Alison. Do I need to go on? But I can't borrow the damn car? Just one night, that's it.”

  “You don't work either,” mom told me.

  Stephen chugged his beer. She always took his side. She was a completely different person when he was home.

  “I recently graduated high school, I'm going to college in the fall. That's more than you can say for Rebekah.”

  “Watch it.” Mom gave me a look that told me I better shut up or else.

  Whatever.

  “You're not going to college,” Stephen began making a mockery out of my career choice the way he always did. “You're going to art camp. And carrying around a hand held camera, filming a bunch of sunsets and bokeh lights or kids skateboarding while rambling on about the meaning of life and how they want to be understood by society isn't a career. That compared to reality is like Picasso versus macaroni noodle art. I've seen what you people do. Can't believe my money's paying for that. A complete waste of time.”

  He popped open another beer, reclined back and kicked his feet up. “Told you we should've kept him away from Brian,” he told my mom.

  “Thanks for that unsolicited opinion and completely narrow minded, warped view on what you consider art, but this has dick nothing to do with whether I can borrow the car or not.”

  “No,” he reiterated. “Final answer. Clean out your ears and stop plugging them with all that garbage you listen to.”

  “Oh,” I lashed out, “but I bet if Bekah had to do a drive-by drug deal you'd be all up and about it. Guess it's because she's your blood and I'm just the bastard of a bastard who dipped out on me.”

  Mom spoke up. “You know we don't play favorites in this house, Kaleb. That's unfair. Stephen's paid for everything you've needed. Now apologize.”

  I'd had enough of her act.

  “Know what, mom? He can stop paying for me. Y'know, if you'd gotten up off your ass like Kayleigh's mom did when that son of a bitch ditched you, and did something with your life, we wouldn't have had to depend on a man to support us. Kayleigh's mom has a career as a nurse. You sit at home, eat microwaveable dinners and watch Jerry Springer and soap operas all damn day.”

  She flew up from the couch. “You really pissed me off that time, Kaleb.” Her eyes watered. “Go to your room! I'm so angry at you right now I could hit you, but I promised myself I'd never be that parent.”

  “Truth hurts. But I'm gonna get a job and pay for everything myself. I'm done with this shit.” I stalked away towards the door.

  “Well go for it Junior! You're so damn grown. You're just like him! You act just like him!”

  Before I left, I heard Stephen mumble, “And that's exactly why he's not getting the car tonight, Sheri.”

  I shot him a bird on the way out. No, dickhead. I wouldn't even be in this disastrous mood i
f you would've let me have the keys to the car in the first place.

  This was some catch-22 bullshit.

  I raced down to the junkyard, and in a fit of rage, I punched something. My hand got caught on something sharp, and it lacerated me, digging in to the web of flesh between my thumb and forefinger.

  Dammit!

  Blood poured out of the wound. I tore off a section of my shirt and cursed under my breath. This wasn't how the night was supposed to turn out. I tied the fabric of my shirt around the gash to keep it from bleeding any worse, and I walked to Kayleigh's house, rang her doorbell.

  A few moments later she opened the door. She had gotten ready for our date, but I hadn't had time to tell her I'd have to rearrange it because Stephen didn't let me have the car. Damn she looked hot.

  “Hi,” I said.

  She gazed at me. “What's wrong with your hand?”

  “Fucked it up,” I said.

  “Let me see, maybe I can fix it.”

  “You're not a medical professional,” I told her.

  “Then why did you come here? Should've went to the ER.”

  “It's not bleeding excessively or anything. And Stephen will kill me for doing shit like this on purpose.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Because. He wouldn't let me have the car tonight for our date.”

  “Sounds very mature of—”

  I cut her off. “—Don't even say it, Kayleigh. I don't need another parental figure on my ass. I didn't come here for that. I came here because for some reason I thought you'd understand.”

  “Okay,” she dropped the attitude. “Come in.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Teenage Dirtbag

  *

  “The car's mine,” he told me, walking into my house. “My uncle Brian bought a car for me when I turned sixteen. But after I totaled it in the wreck, Stephen used the insurance to replace it, but kept the new car. Since it was his money that paid for the insurance, he thought he was entitled to hold ownership of the car, too.”

  “He did that to you?”

  “Yep. Apparently I'm not trustworthy enough to operate a vehicle without supervision. What pisses me off is that Rebekah gets to drive it whenever she wants, even when she's high. My mom won't do anything about it because Stephen basically pays all the bills. Which is why I'm getting summer job.”

  “You get to drive the car when he's not home though. And he's not home that often.”

  “I know, but still, tonight was an important night for me.”

  “I see that. You busted open your hand because of it.”

  His eyelashes fluttered when he glanced at me.

  “So what are you going to do. For work, I mean. Scoop ice cream? Work at the theater?”

  “I dunno yet.”

  “Stephen doesn't sound all that bad. If he's willing to pay for you and help you out, you should let him. Not everyone has it so lucky, you know?”

  “Who are you, my guidance counselor now?”

  “Sorry, it's just what I think.”

  “Well you think wrong. I want to work and pay my own way. I don't want to be obligated to anyone for shit. All they ever do is throw it in your face and slur you about it later. Make you feel guilty and worthless for not getting off your ass and doing anything for yourself. I already know that's what he'll do.”

  Kaleb clutched his hand, his shirt still wrapped around it. I saw him the way I'd always seen him. Beneath the dramatic way he had of dealing with his emotions, he was slowly evolving from a boy into a man.

  “Follow me,” I said, leading him into the kitchen.

  “I didn't go to the ER because I figured your mom'd be there and realize what a fuck up I am and I'd never get to see you again.” As soon as we'd passed the doorway, he backed me up against the counter, lowering his voice. His tone deepened. “Can we keep this between us, Kayleigh?” His undertones hinted, almost promised that he and I would have more secrets to keep. This was only the beginning. He hoped to make a pact with me.

  I sealed it when I said, “You may need stitches. Let me see?”

  “Yeah, sure.” His eyes were still attentively fixed on me. The way he looked at me sent a hot charge through my bloodstream. I wished he'd look away. It became difficult to focus on much with his eyes fastened on me like that.

  I unwrapped the tourniquet. He couldn't. He was too preoccupied. I took a peek at his wound, trying to assess the damage done to his skin tissue. He had a gash between his thumb and forefinger. It wasn't excessively bleeding and he hadn't ripped the skin severely.

  “How did this happen?

  “I was in the junkyard, got kinda pissed. What can I say?”

  “What were you doing in the junkyard?”

  He shrugged. “Just somewhere I go sometimes.”

  “Be right back.” I sprinted down the hallway and opened the closet door, retrieving the nurse's kit. “Mom taught me how to do this,” I said, walking back into the kitchen and laying the medical supplies on the counter. “Your tetanus shot is up to date, right?”

  “Yeah. With as much shit as I get in, it'd have to be.”

  “I'm gonna check for fragments of foreign matter, and then I'll stitch you up, right after I clean the wound.” I put on a pair of gloves, sterilized the utensils, and used hydrogen peroxide to clean his cut. I checked the area for fragments of glass or tiny metal particles, anything that shouldn't be in his skin, and used the medical utensil to remove it.

  “You're so gentle, Kayleigh,” he said. I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Kinda good at this.”

  I laced the stitching needed with medical thread, and sewed his wound closed, keeping the stitches as close to the edge as possible, without the stitch unthreading and reopening the gash, causing it to bleed again. I zig-zagged to the top of the wound, then tied it off with a knot.

  “Who's doctor fix it now?” he smiled, as I placed a small bandage over the stitches.

  “Don't hurt yourself again, Kaleb.” After I'd said it, I realized that it sounded like a warning and that if he didn't comply, I'd punish him. The kind of punishment that made guys excited. When his eyes lit up, I knew he'd registered the unknowing implication I'd made with my voice. I'd never been so embarrassed in my life. He quirked his eyebrow and smirked. For a flicker of a second, I wanted to tell him that's not at all what I'd meant, then duck away quickly to hide my flaming face, but I decided against it. I pretended it'd been intentional and I inhaled air and released it with a smile to make the red flush in my face go away. Maybe subconsciously I'd meant to say it the way I had. It could be a good thing, make me seem a little bit more mysterious and not so transparent. Take me from girl in the dorky glasses to girl beneath the dorky glasses. Flirtatious. I was flirting with him and he liked it.

  I made a mental note to try it again sometime soon.

  Except for the time he'd asked me out on a date, this was the first time Kaleb had been inside my house, so I showed him around. When we were upstairs, I showed him my room and he made himself comfortable. Soon we were lying on my bed, our eyes trying to outgaze each other. It started as a blinking game.

  “I'm masterful at this,” he said. “You'll definitely lose.” I bet, I thought. You've already had so much practice staring at me.

  He rolled me over so that he was on top of me. Our bodies so close together. A heat zinged through me in the places I longed for him to touch. He had that kind of affect on me. My mind was whirling. I'd dreaded this moment for the longest, but imagined it happening, too.

  “Can you feel it?”

  “Feel what?”

  With a smirk that made me even more dizzy, he took my hand and guided it below his waist. I tried to fight it but he said, “It's okay, let it happen.” I surrendered. My face flushed crimson hot when it came into contact with what felt like a rock beneath his jeans.

  “I'm fixated on you, Kayleigh. On this—happening.”

  Was this something he should even be doing? He hadn't kissed me yet.


  “Why did you do that?” I asked.

  “I dunno. Guess it's because part of me is a teenage dirtbag who wants to get in your pants.”

  “What's the other part?”

  He rolled away. “Not gonna say.”

  “Why not?”

  “It's not the kind of thing you say to a girl after making this kind of confession. It'll make me sound like I'm only trying to get my way with you. I don't want you to think that.”

  I wanted to ask him why he hadn't kissed me. Why was it taking so long? I wanted him to kiss me. But I couldn't bring myself to ask. I didn't want him to know how desperately I wanted it to happen. He wanted more to happen. I didn't know what to think.

  And as though he read my mind, he said, “I would kiss you right now, but I don't trust myself to stop there.”

  I didn't say anything. How could I? What would I? I kept quiet. He continued. “Maybe after I learn to control myself.” He held up his bandaged hand. “I'd hate myself if you ever hated me.”

  I leaned over and gave him a peck below the edge of his lip where his cheek met his strong jawline.

  He interlaced his fingers through mine and lifted our interlocked hands. He kissed the outside of my mine, squeezing it. “I'm gonna go, Kayleigh. I'll call you, okay?”

  I nodded, afraid that if I dared to speak I'd end up saying something else. It was a good thing he held my hand in his or I might've pulled him down with me and buried him beneath my covers.

  “Thanks for repairing my hand.”

  “You're welcome.”

  He let me go and lifted himself off my bed. I let him walk several paces away from me before I swung my feet over the edge and moved, following behind him. At the top of the stairs, we paused.

  “See you soon,” he said, then twisted away, descending down the stairs. He was on step three, headed for number four when a sudden change hit him. He jerked back around, taking the steps back up to the top in what seemed like one long stride. He pulled me to him, gripping me tightly in an embrace. He planted a firm kiss on my cheek, just inches away from my lips. His kisses moved to my neck, his warm lips kissing me there three times, achingly. He let out a groan.