I nod without even thinking about his words. I take another drink, but nothing’s fixing it. Nothing’s filling this hole. I want to find that switch again, that good feeling, but all I can think about is how I just dealt the final blow to the sudden-death expulsion of an unsuspecting kid. And I still care.
Chapter 14
The defacement of our school’s brand new mascot dominates the pre-school chatter when Mandy and I arrive in the student lot. I’m still in jeans and a dark tee, and today I’ve added dark sunglasses to help with my head, which is thick and painful from last night. Mandy doesn’t even bother commenting.
Once we’re out of her Beemer, she’s instantly swept up in the buzzing gossip. Half of the girls are wondering why Trevor did it. Why does he want to get expelled so badly? Is it really a cry for help?
Nobody suspects he wouldn’t be so dumb as to spray paint his own initials after an F.U. on the front of the school. Or I guess if he were mad enough, maybe he would.
But he didn’t.
I walk slowly to my building and go inside. Jordan’s not at his locker, but I’m too distracted to wonder why. I simply open mine, grab my chem book and binder and head to class.
Announcements done, pledge said, we’re all turned sideways in our seats when the daily student newscast starts up. Only this time, instead of perky high schoolers in trendy outfits smiling and giving us tips on how to start a community recycling program, loud music and screams blast from the TVs, accompanied by blonde college-aged bimbos doing belly shots and flashing their boobs.
It takes a whole two seconds for everyone to register what’s happening, and instantly the mustachioed mascot is out the window. The school bursts into simultaneous screams from the girls and hoots from the guys at the coeds onscreen kissing each other and pulling up their skirts. Clearly no one wears panties in college.
I get up and walk out, casting one glance back at Mr. Perkins, who’s flailing in a desperate attempt to throw his blazer over the television suspended from the ceiling while ordering a fellow classmate to get him a chair to stand on.
School is such a disaster right now, I have to give it up for Colt. He gave me my wish. Definitely an epic prank. As I walk down the hall, I realize I couldn’t find him if I wanted to. I don’t even know what class he has first period. Our relationship is strictly pranks and drinking and getting off. The new me. A frown plays at the corner of my lips, but I don’t give in to it.
The front office is no less chaotic, as female shrieks and male cheers echo up and down the halls. Ms. Sarita, the school secretary, is panicked because the student news DVD player is locked in Patty’s office, and he’s across campus addressing a maintenance issue. She’s screaming at Lucas Johnson, her student worker, to get him at once as she searches for a way to cut the power, but Lucas is snorting with laughter, watching the show.
Just then, rising above it all, I hear the sound of Coach Taylor’s hoarse voice yelling Trevor Martin’s name. I’m standing at the front desk when a furious Mr. Patel drags him in from the gym. Sudden-death expulsion. He releases Trevor’s collar while he races to his office to unlock the door and shut off the offending video.
Trevor doesn’t look at me, or anyone for that matter. He stands calmly in front of the counter and studies the papers lying there. I study him. He’s wearing an old white tee and jeans, he’s skinny and he slouches, but he isn’t cowed. Thin, straight brown hair frames pale cheeks and huge brown eyes. They cut to mine for a moment, and I don’t look away.
He smiles. “Triple X,” he whispers, nodding toward the TV screen that’s now black.
I don’t answer, and he turns back to the counter. He picks up the pen lying there, and I watch him draw a mustache on the panther logo topping an announcement sheet. My eyebrows pull together. Is that the way it goes when you quit caring? Whatever they throw at you, you roll with it? He glances at me again, and I try to understand.
Large spots of red are on his face, but he’s defiant. He likes the prank, so he’ll take the blame for it, not that it would matter if he fought. I turn and walk out the door. I wonder how long it’ll take before I stop caring. It’s Friday, and I’ve got the whole weekend to figure it out.
* * *
School is effectively shut down following the media explosion and the subsequent Trevor fallout. As far as I can tell, no one even noticed I left, and after arriving at my empty house, I don’t even bother taking off my clothes. I simply kick off my boots and shove my body between the blankets to sleep off last night and my involvement in today.
I open my eyes again and it’s dark. My phone’s vibrating on the side table, and I pick it up to see several missed texts. The first five are from Colt.
Partner in crime MIA, says the first one.
U get a kiss for today. Epic.
At home? Hung over?
Still on for tonight?
The last one reads, PU at 7; Kumbaya kids start early.
I glance at the clock. It’s only six. I lie back and stare at the ceiling for a few minutes wondering if I even want to get out of bed. Ever. Then I think of Jordan and the bonfire. My heart tugs, and I can’t lie. I really want to see him again. I roll onto my side and hug my pillow hard into my chest. Closing my eyes, I can almost remember kissing him. What’s wrong with me? I blink. I only feel this way because I can’t have him. I have to believe that.
My phone buzzes and I lift it to see the face. Jordan. I sit straight up in bed.
Hope to CU tonight. Sick?
I quickly text him back. Headache. Chaos at school made it worse.
Sorry. Tonight at 7?
CU there!
I stop short of adding a smiley at the end. What am I thinking?
I’m thinking I need to shower and wash my hair, my face, everything. I’m mentally flipping through my closet trying to decide what I should wear. Denim skirt, navy, no white blouse. White’s kind of a pure color, right?
What the hell? I don’t care about being pure. I don’t care about seeing Jordan. I’m arguing with the energy surging through my body as I step into the shower. The warm water pours down my face and my mind floods with images of his blue eyes.
* * *
Colt’s not smiling when I climb into his truck. “You never answer my texts,” he says.
I pull the seatbelt across me. “Sorry. I wasn’t feeling great. And I said I was going tonight, right?”
He leans across and catches my neck for a kiss, then he glances down at my shirt. “I thought you only wore red to church?”
“It’s not really church.” I flinch as a thick bolt of lightening flashes a crooked yellow line across the sky. Several minutes pass before the thunder rolls after it.
“This probably won’t even happen,” he looks up through the windshield as we turn and head north, away from Glennville and toward the wooded area outside Shadow Falls.
Birdford State Park is on a lake and popular with scout groups, campers, and RVers. A few kids from school have summer jobs as lifeguards on Birdford Lake, but it’s far enough away that I prefer the Shadow Creek club pool. Dad used to talk about taking us camping here, but it’s too close to feel like a true getaway. And Mom’s never been into camping. So this is the first time I’ve even stepped foot into the forested area.
Once we’re through the guard’s hut and have our parking tag, we drive past several small cabins that form a wide circle around a larger meeting hall. About a quarter-mile down the hill in an open area we see where the Young Life group has erected the tall bonfire. It’s after seven when we pull into a space under the trees, and the fire is just starting to blaze.
“We really doing this?” Colt says, propping his forearms on the steering wheel and watching kids squealing and running back and forth in front of the fire.
“You’re the one who jumped in and said we were coming.”
His eyes slide over to me and then he grins. “We’ll make some trouble and then take off.”
I do a little smile back and pull
the door handle. Trouble’s not really why I came tonight. My feet touch the slippery, brown pine straw when I step out of the truck, and I tug the bottom of my skirt, thinking of the last time I wore it. I try to think of a good excuse for why I am here. It’s completely against my new philosophy, and Colt would’ve agreed to do something else if I’d said I didn’t want to come.
But I did want to come. And I know why.
Acoustic guitar chords float to me, and the air is heavy with moisture from the growing storm. I can smell the rain mixed with the piney scent of the trees. Colt’s waiting on the other side of the truck when I walk around. He puts his hand on my waist and slips a finger through my belt loop as we walk to the fire. A sharp breeze whips down through the clearing, and one of the logs drops sending a rain of orange sparks flying into the thick, black air. Some of the girls squeal and then laugh. I catch sight of Jordan on the other side of the pyre holding a cup and talking to an underclassman. She has chin-length brown hair and is a bit taller than me. I recognize her, but we’re not friends or anything. She isn’t a cheerleader or a Shadow Creek resident.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter who he talks to. I don’t care. But when she smiles and playfully punches him in the side, I know it’s a lie.
Colt leans down and whispers in my ear. “I have an idea.”
He kisses my head and takes off, but I can’t stop watching Jordan laughing and teasing with the brown-haired girl. Then, as if he feels my eyes on him, he turns and looks right at me. His expression changes, and he says something to her before moving in my direction. Smug satisfaction fills my chest. Which is ridiculous. I’m here with Colt, who is supremely hot and who I can do what I want with. No worries about corruption.
“You made it. I thought you were sick,” Jordan says, and I do not fixate on the bright tone in his voice.
“School was crazy, and I had a migraine. That’s all.”
“This morning was nuts. Trevor became a legend.”
Swallowing my guilt at hearing Trevor’s name, I quickly deflect, making an expression of pretend-disapproval.
“Did you watch?”
“It was sort of unavoidable.”
“Something new to think about?”
“It was really kind of sad.” Then he points to my hand. “Coke? Pepsi? Root beer?”
“Real beer?”
“Come on, Ashley, it’s Young Life.”
I do a little laugh. “I think Colt’s getting us something.”
As if on cue, my date reappears with a bag of marshmallows. “Every time I turn around, there you are,” he says.
“Stop turning around,” Jordan quips. I try not to grin.
“Not bad, Stretch. But she’s still with me,” Colt catches my hand and pulls me away toward the woods.
Jordan’s brow lines as he watches us go. “Program starts in fifteen minutes,” he calls.
“Don’t wait for us,” Colt yells back.
I’m only half-heartedly into disappearing with Colt, but I follow him across the clearing. We’re headed toward the entrance and he pulls me close, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Marshmallow?”
“I’m not really a fan.”
“You will be when I’m done.” He smiles in a way that makes my stomach squirm.
Internally, I try to fan the flames. I don’t know what happened to the heat I used to feel whenever he said things like that. Our encounter in the truck seemed to have thrown a permanent boatload of cold water on us—even after his apology. Even after learning I’m apparently the clueless one. Mandy was practically offering me handcuffs for our next encounter.
I think about the first time I saw him running on the track. Hot. I think about our hook up in the gym and in the closet at church. Sinful hot. I’m distracted when I look up and realize we’re at the small cabin farthest away from the large meeting hall.
Colt slows and turns to me, pulling me against his chest and finding my mouth. The first drops of rain hit our faces, and he stops to look up, eyes closed. I study his blond hair, sharp chin, strong neck. I’m still admiring when he returns his attention to my lips. Our mouths are just opening as the storm turns from a sprinkle to a full-on downpour. Faint screams and laughter float to us from the bonfire area. Colt’s got me by the hips and we’re rocking side to side, slowly inching toward the cabin as the rain soaks my hair, my shoes, and my white shirt, turning it transparent.
He breaks away and smiles at me. My mind rebelliously skips back across the clearing, wondering what’s happening at the bonfire. Are they leaving? Is Jordan still there? Will he be gone when we get back?
“Come on,” Colt whispers, taking my hand and leading me up the steps and into the cabin.
“It’s unlocked?” I say, but he moves me over to a small table in the center of the room and drops the thin plastic bag on it. Then he digs out a chocolate bar and holds it up smiling.
“Chocolate is one of my favorite things,” I say. He tears it open and breaks off a small rectangle, putting one piece in his mouth and the other in mine. The sweet richness melts over my tongue, sending a warm tingle down my back.
I close my eyes and Colt’s mouth is on mine again. We both taste like sugar and chocolaty goodness. I notice his hand is searching for the marshmallow bag. I pull back, and he takes out a big white puff, popping it into his mouth and smiling. I frown as he pulls out another one and touches it to my lips. I hesitate before opening them, and he pops it in mine. Then a third he holds in his hands and starts to move my knees apart.
“Hang on,” I manage to say around the giant, sugary ball filling my mouth. I swallow hard. “What’re you going to do?”
He grins and leans in for more sugary kisses. His arm goes around my waist and he lifts me up to sitting on the table. He’s back between my knees, and I feel his hand fumbling with my wet skirt. It clings to my skin, causing him to have to force it up my sides. I’m holding onto his shoulders telling myself I’m into this. I want this to happen. I’m not distracted and thinking about someone else. And a girl with short brown hair…
Fingers fumble with the side of my panties. He’s easing them down and my heart’s beating faster. I think of Colt’s perfect body running on the track. The lines in his torso. My body starts to warm, and I search for his skin through his wet shirt. I trace my fingers down his sides, and my touch brings his attention higher. He leans back to unfasten the top button of my shirt, then the next one. He kisses the side of my jaw and places the marshmallow in the front of my bra.
“For starters,” he whispers. His mouth returns to my chin and slowly he trails his lips down my neck. I shiver as his hands slide around my waist to my bare back, and he pulls me closer to him. Burning kisses lead the way to the hidden treat. My padded bra helps keep it in place, and I drop my head back as he finds it. It’s soft and warm, and his tongue sends tingles skittering down my legs. I slide my hands to his cheeks and wrap my ankles around his hips, pulling our bodies completely together.
“Not too close,” he whispers in my ear. “The next one goes there.” I feel a flush of heat as I now understand the marshmallow trick. He kisses me long, and his tongue tickles the roof of my mouth. I hear his hand fumbling in the thin, plastic bag again.
It’s going to happen. It’s going to happen now, and my super-heated body is onboard with the situation. His hand touches my thigh, and I open my legs. I want him to do what he’s planning. He looks up at me again, and I’m ready to let my head fall back. To close my eyes…
But something happens. I feel like something’s here with us.
Colt’s fingers tease my sensitive skin, but instead of heating up, my stomach knots. It’s like I can see my dad’s face, somewhere behind him in the dark. Visible, but invisible, watching us. I pull my legs away, turning to the side. Colt rocks back on his heels and frowns.
“What’s wrong?” He looks at me, and I’m sure I can feel my dad here. He’s asking me why. Why am I doing this?
I don’t know the answer anymore. I blink
a few times at the darkness. What I do know is I’m seriously losing my mind.
“I can't,” I whisper in a shaky voice. “I’ve got to go.”
I start to slide off the table, but Colt catches my thighs and holds me up. “Wait, wait. So no foreign objects in sensitive places. Okay, I get it.”
He leans in and kisses my neck again, but I’m pushing back on his arms. “I have to stop,” I say. “I can’t do this anymore.”
His hands come up and catch my wrists, wrapping them around my back. “Can’t do what, partner in crime?” He’s grinning, holding my hands back, and I realize my shirt’s still wide open.
“I’m not into it,” I say, but he slides both my wrists into one hand again as he lowers his head to my neck.
“I can get you into it,” he murmurs between kisses, but in that instant, I twist and pull an arm free. I catch him with a push to the chest and then jump down, running to the door. All I want is to get out, away from whatever's happening here and back to Jordan.
“Dammit, Ashley! I hear something hit the wall, but I don’t look back. “That’s the last time.”
I charge out into the rain again running past the trees in the direction of the bonfire. At that moment it occurs to me that Colt was my ride to the park. If everyone’s gone, I don’t know how I’m getting home. I run harder, hoping there’s some sort of clean-up crew that involves Jordan. He invited me, after all. He’s always with Dr. Andrews. He’s got to be part of the leadership committee.
Rain’s falling in sheets, and I can’t see much in the darkness. The bonfire’s smoking and smoldering. I wipe my eyes, and just glimpse a tall figure in a hooded nylon windbreaker running toward the stack of wood. He grabs the last chair and starts back for the parking area.
“Jordan!” my voice is a high-pitched squeal. The figure freezes and turns in my direction.
I’m still running toward him, but now tears are blurring my vision. I think of Colt back in the cabin and how he probably thinks I’m a complete psycho. I think he might be right, but I don’t care. All I know is I don’t want him. I want this tall, skinny guy running toward me. The one who believes in everything I hate and who will most certainly drive me crazy. The one who talks to me about good things, about my dad, and who wants to make a difference in the world. The one I want to hold and kiss and be with every minute.
The Truth About Letting Go Page 14
