by CJ Martín
“Okay.” I turn away from Jesse, and just like that, the spell is broken.
By 11:00 p.m. I’m exhausted and my feet ache from where my cheap, too-tight leather shoes pinch my toes together. The DJ announces the next song; “Good Riddance” by Green Day will be the last song of the night. All couples rush to the dance floor, and the school photographer circles the perimeter to snap pictures of the happy couples.
Tod and I follow the crowd, but not even thirty seconds into the song, Jesse taps Tod’s shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”
Tod’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “Actually, I do.”
The clenching of Jesse’s jaw is imperceptible to someone who doesn’t know him well, which is why Tod continues on, his voice condescending, “Dance with your own girlfriend.”
My eyes find Jesse’s and hold for a beat. “I’m sorry,” I say but he shakes his head and walks away.
I want to chase after him, to tell him I’d much rather be at prom with him, dancing and laughing with him. But Tod tightens his grip on my waist and pulls me closer. My eyes search the packed dance floor for Jesse. I find him and Heather almost instantly; they’re nestled in the far corner, swaying to the music.
God, everything is such a mess. I miss my friend. Will Jesse and I be able to patch up our friendship?
Sighing, I rest my head on Tod’s shoulder and close my eyes to stop my tears, because in this moment, it feels like Jesse’s gone for good.
10
Riley
The beach house is quiet as I crack open the bedroom door. Tiptoeing down the hall, I step over several beer cans and pairs of high heel shoes strewn haphazardly across the floor. My eyes dart to the second door on the right, Jesse’s bedroom. The very bedroom he shared with Hoe Bag. The door’s still closed, and I wonder if his night was any better than mine.
I make my way across the dune. The sun has barely risen over the greyish water, and I wiggle my toes in the sand. It’s early, much too early to be up, especially after a late night, but I settle onto the blanket I snatched off the back of the sofa and stare into the murky water, it’s somber hue a reflection of my own mood.
How did everything get so off track? I wish more than ever I could rewind time and take back the decision to ask Jesse to kiss me, swallow the words back one by one. I imagine them slipping past my lips, smooth and uneven as they descend back into my belly, safely. Me. Kiss. You. Will.
Because after the kiss was when things started to change between us. We never fought about it, per se, or for that matter, even discussed it, but it was there, an undercurrent of unease that never existed before.
A shoulder nudges me, startling me from my thoughts. “Hey.” Jesse’s deep voice whispers across my neck as he leans down to sit next to me.
Goosebumps dance across my skin, and I tug my blue and white polka-dot sweater tighter. “Hey.”
A minute of silence passes between us, and though not unpleasant, I long for the easy comfort that we’ve always shared. I clear my throat before speaking. “Couldn’t sleep?”
He continues to stare into the horizon, but answers, “Something like that.”
The hand closest to me begins tracing an arc in the sand, small at first and gradually bigger. I watch his long, strong fingers for a moment, the pattern increasing until he taps my hand. Once. Twice. The third time he loops my fingers and squeezes. Without thought I squeeze back. The tension breaks. We’re back. Months of worry and confusion wiped away. Reset. Thank God.
Turning to face one another, we both say “I’m sorry” at the same time. Jesse’s huge grin matches my own, and we fall back into the sand, laughing, staring up into the morning sky.
“You first,” I say.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about it?”
My eyes widen in question, but I say, “Yeah.”
“I guess”—he closes his eyes—“it’s hard seeing you with someone else. I’ve never had to share you before.”
“I get it.” I brush my fingers across the sand. “I feel the same way.”
He sits up, peers at me. “You do?”
“Yeah.” I dip my head, embarrassed. “Let’s forget the whole thing ever happened and spend time together before we both leave for college.”
“I’d like that,” Jesse agrees.
“Just us.” I motion between him and I. “No Tod. No Heather.”
He smiles. “I’d like that even more.”
We’re both quiet for several minutes, enjoying the return of the comfortable ease that was missing between us for far too long.
Finally, Jesse speaks. “So, how was it?” Of course he’s referring to my plan to lose my virginity on prom night. We’d never discussed it, but somehow he knew. Hell, I think everyone did. Giving it up after prom is like a rite of passage.
I roll to face him. “Wouldn’t know. Tod passed out.”
Jesse’s eyes widen.
I roll my eyes. “I know. Can you believe he’d rather drink than get with all this?” I drag my finger up and down my torso in the most obnoxious way.
He shakes his head solemnly. “No. No, I can’t.”
I laugh. “His loss.”
Jesse’s quiet again, but then says, “I didn’t hook up with Heather.”
I bite back my first thought: Why didn’t you? But instead say, “Let me guess, she passed out, too?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Just wasn’t feeling it.”
So many thoughts run through my mind, but before I can voice any of them, he says, “What do you say? Wanna ditch the crew and spend the day together?”
He doesn’t know how wonderful that suggestion sounds, but I’m guessing by the way my eyes light up he might. “Absolutely.”
He props himself to stand and then reaches down for my wrist. “Come on, we better make a run for it before anyone else gets up and catches us.”
Not even a minute later we’re headed west, away from the coast. No destination in mind. Just Jesse, me, and the open road.
And I couldn’t be happier.
11
Riley
The summer sweeps by in an endless list of to-dos. Between working forty-plus hours a week at ESPresso Café, packing all my stuff for my dorm (I have a lot of stuff!), and spending time with my family (my parents were being extra clingy since their firstborn was all “grown up”), I barely had time to see Jesse since he’d gotten back from North Carolina.
After prom, things between us had returned to normal and I was grateful.
On the night before I leave for Lennox University, a little after 1:00 a.m., I get a text from him.
Jesse: You up?
Smiling, I type a response.
Riley: Yes.
Jesse: Meet me in ten.
I don’t need to ask where. We’ve done this—our secret rendezvous—a thousand times before.
I snatch my well-worn black hoodie from my desk chair, and tiptoe out of my room, down the long hall to the top of the stairs. I pause, breath held still, listening for any sound, but nothing but beautiful, sweet silence greets me. Shifting from side to side, I damn near glide down the stairs, skipping over the last tread because it squeaks.
The air is cooler than I expect, even though the humidity is thick and leaves a sticky coating on my skin. Before I can make it to the old tree house, a muscular arm bands around my waist, and a large hand clasps over my mouth, stifling my scream.
I panic until I catch a whiff of cedar and pine. Jesse. Pulling back, I swat at him, heart still racing. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Poor baby,” he chides, following me up the old ladder. “Who else do you think’d be out here?”
“Not the point.” I settle against the rough wood wall as he lights the lone candle left over from God knows when. It’s a small stump of wax, but once lit, gives off enough light that I can see Jesse’s face clearly.
“So, what’s the occasion?” I nudge his foot. “We haven’t done this since… It
’s been a long time.”
He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”
My eyes find his in question. “Everything okay? It’s not your gram, is it?” I overheard my mom talking to Mrs. Collins last Tuesday about Jesse’s grandmother. Two weeks ago she suffered a mild stroke. The stroke caused some mobility issues, which resulted in her falling and fracturing her right hip.
“No, no.” He dips his head, scratches the back of his neck. “Just been thinking a lot.”
“About?” My fingers glide over the scarred wood, finding a rough carving of our initials in the weatherworn post.
“Stuff.”
“Stuff?” I repeat, even though I know Jesse won’t offer much more until he’s ready.
He reaches into the pocket of his grey sweatpants and thrusts a small cardboard box at me. “Here.” He shoves the box under my nose. “I got you this.”
Our fingers brush against each other as I take the box from him. It’s light and I shake it once, my eyebrows pinching together in concentration. “What is it?”
“A present—”
“You got me a present?” I cut him off.
He rolls his eyes. “Just open it.”
I lift the lid from the box to reveal a thin silver chain with a small black and white yin-yang charm on the end. It’s delicate and simple—I love it.
He peers at the necklace. “Maybe it’s stupid…” He hesitates. “But I thought, it was like—”
“You and me.” I cut him off again.
His eyes light up, maybe in relief, and he nods his head. “Yeah.”
On the most basic level, I understand the visual representation; he’s dark skinned and I’m of fair complexion. But on a deeper level, I also get the meaning: two halves of the same whole, unable to exist without each other. The black, so powerful and strong, much like Jesse, still needs the tiny dot of white for balance, a reminder to slow down and enjoy life. In contrast, the white, so light and pure, requires the small splash of black to push beyond its comfort zone, much in the way Jesse has inspired me to live more freely.
Apart, the colors are neither good nor bad.
Together, they are perfect.
Just like us.
“You like it?
“I love it.” My voice is tight with emotion. “Help me put it on,” I say, gathering my hair in a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck.
He moves behind me, his large fingers working the small clasp with surprising dexterity. Once the necklace is hooked, he rests his hands on my skin, sending a chill down my spine. But when he dips his head and places a soft kiss at the base of my neck, my whole body shivers. He had to have noticed.
But he doesn’t say anything, simply moves back beside me and remains quiet. A little flustered, my fingers toy with the chain.
“This is really beautiful, Jes. Thank you.” He meets my eyes and nods, but before he can say anything, I continue. “You didn’t have to…” My fingers drag along the tiny links of the chain. “I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”
He turns his head to look out the small window before bringing his eyes back to me. “I know… I just…” He inches marginally closer. “I’m going to miss you. We won’t be able to do this anymore.”
I sigh. “I know.” Finding his eyes, I say, “We can talk on the phone. And text. And visit.”
He agrees. “I know, but it won’t be the same.”
“Jes,” I say, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He would never admit it, but I know him, and he doesn’t deal well with change. At all. Ever since his parents’ divorce…
He lets me hold him like that, rests his head on my shoulder. A current of wind blows through, and the breeze extinguishes the candle.
I begin to pull away, but his voice whispers through the darkness. “Ry?”
“Yeah?”
“Stay with me?”
“For you? Always.”
12
Riley
Settling into college life has been easier than expected. My roommate, Liza, and I clicked instantly, even though we’re opposite in almost every way. She’s outgoing and I’m shy. She’s an early riser and I’m a night owl. She loves to gossip, and I mind my own business. But we balance each other out and whether I’d like to admit it or not, she’s helped to bring me out of my shell. Basically, she’s the female version of Jesse.
In the past two months I’ve done more new things (hello, salsa dancing!), eaten different dishes (Korean and Indian in one week!) and have met more cute guys than I did my entire four years of high school. So, yeah, college isn’t exactly what I expected, but there’s way less homesickness than I anticipated.
Not surprisingly, Tod and I broke up the week after he moved into his dorm. I’d finally slept with him a week after the whole prom debacle (seriously, I should have run when I had the chance). I was completely underwhelmed with the whole experience. Truly, I didn’t understand what all the sex hype was about; the first time, it hurt like hell and lasted four minutes from start to finish. We’d done it a few more times that summer, but it never felt good, and I never orgasmed. To make matters worse, Tod didn’t seem to notice (or maybe he just didn’t care?) that I didn’t.
One night, after a few too many shots of Tequila Rose, I’d confided my lousy sex life to Liza. She assured me Tod was a douche and that most guys made sure a woman was ready (or, in her words, “wet and willing”) before sticking it in. In any event, I wasn’t very eager to do it again.
Jesse left two days after me, and as promised, we called and texted, not every day, but as much as our schedules would allow. He’s busy with classes and basketball practices. I’m busy with classes and well, studying.
It’s a quiet Wednesday afternoon, and I’m back at my dorm, trying to convince myself to study for my chemistry class, but am losing the battle hard because my Instagram feed is way more appealing. I’m sprawled on my bed half asleep when Jesse’s face lights up my screen.
I answer on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Hey.” He sounds a bit off.
“You okay?”
I can hear the tension crackle through the phone, but he simply says, “Yeah.”
Hesitating, I wait for him to say more, after all, he was the one who called me, but he remains silent. Something’s definitely up. After another awkward pause, I ask, “So, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are we just going to listen to each other’s breathing like total creepers?”
“Option number two.”
I smack my lips together. “You got it.” I know Jesse well enough to know that he’ll tell me what’s bothering him when he’s ready.
Sure enough, after another minute or so, he sighs heavily. “Coach Sanders is being a dick.”
I sit up. Playing basketball means everything to Jesse. It’s unlike him to bad-mouth his coach. I keep my voice light. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he snaps.
“Okay.” I resist the urge to snap back, but barely.
“It’s bullshit. I’m failing a few classes, and all of a sudden it’s some goddamn big deal. I’m a freshman. I’m having a good time. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re failing your classes?”
“Not all of them…just three.”
Holy shit. I’d be panicking if I was failing one, let alone three. Still, I try to be optimistic. “It’s early. You have plenty of time to pull up your GPA.”
He scoffs. “Tell that to Coach Asswipe Sanders. He put me on fucking academic probation.”
“What?” My voice is shrill. “Jes, that’s serious.”
“And,” he continues, “I won’t be able to play unless I maintain a 3.0.”
“So, what happens now? You have to get a tutor or something?”
He huffs a breath. “I don’t know.”
“How can I help?” I hesitate before saying, “I worry about you.”
“It’s fine,” he says, and then adds, “It’s college. We’re supposed to party and have fun.�
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I hesitate, not knowing how far to push. “Academic probation is one step above expulsion.” One teeny tiny step. “You could lose your scholarship.”
“Ry, I don’t need a lecture. Whatever you’re going to say, trust me—I’ve heard it.”
His clipped tone needles my nerves, and I retort, “Jesus, don’t be such an ass. All I’m saying is be careful.”
He expels a forceful breath. “Okay.” I hear a door click closed, and the noise in the background quiets. “You still coming next weekend?”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Are you gonna be in a better mood by then?”
“I’ll be just peachy.”
“Ass.” I scold. “Assuming all goes well, I should get there some time around eight. My afternoon class is over at four.”
“Cool.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
Just then Liza rushes into our room, mouth working a mile a minute. “God, Riley can you believe that—oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
I glance at her over my shoulder from where I lie on the bed. “It’s okay,” I tell her, then say to Jesse, “You’re gonna text me directions, right?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I gotta go.”
“Okay.” He pauses for a fraction of a second. “And, Ry?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me, too. Good night, Jesse.”
“Night.”
Before I’ve officially ended the call, Liza pounces on my bed—literally, she jumps on the small twin mattress so hard that my body catches airtime.
“So, who’s Jesse?”
I roll my eyes because we’ve been over this before. “I told you, he’s my best friend from back home.”
Her eyes search my face at first and then slide to the neat row of picture frames stacked along the shelf above my bed. Her eyes dance over the familiar faces from my childhood and land on the final, solid black frame. It’s a snapshot of Jesse and me on the beach the day after prom. The day we ditched our dates and the rest of our friends.
