“They weren’t friends.”
“They weren’t friends.” I sighed. “But they were all I had.”
“That’s not true,” he said in a gruff voice. “Because you could have had me. And did have me, every single time you pointed, every single time you laughed, every single time you sighed. You’ve never been able to hide your eyes from me, and even then, when I hated you and dreamed about running you over with my lawnmower—” I laughed at that. “I knew that if I touched you again I would take you forever, and you’d never forgive me for it.”
“You would have taken away my only friends, my only solace.”
“And your parents?”
I went still in his arms. “I thrived off your hate because at least it was something, it was passion, it was so closely tied with what I thought love was, that I thought maybe, just maybe, it would sustain me.”
“Did it?”
“It made me want you more…” I turned to face him. “My last confession… you’re the only person who has ever said they loved me out loud.”
His eyes softened.
And I hated myself for what I was about to do.
“Are you ready for the final truth?”
“No.” His voice cracked as he swallowed, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I don’t think I can fully love you the way you deserve… unless I love myself first… and I don’t know how.” I sniffled and wiped the tears falling under my eyes.
I thought he’d yell at me.
He was, after all, a self-proclaimed asshole.
“Are you saying — a day after I nearly died — that we’re through?”
“I’m saying…” My throat caught, tightening my voice. “…that I’m broken, and as much as I wish it, your love can’t fix me. Only I can fix me.”
He dropped his arms and took a step back.
I wanted him to hold me forever.
I wanted him to say he would wait for me.
I wanted him to say he understood.
Instead, his expression was unreadable.
And then pain.
So much pain I wished for a swift death.
“Marlo?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No.”
“No what? Say something!”
“You want me to say something?” He gritted his teeth.
I jerked at his angry tone.
“I think you’re weak,” he said in a cold voice. “I think you’re running because it’s easy. I think you want a road without pain, and that road doesn’t exist. Life is pleasure and pain over and over again. It’s sick chaos. And the worst part? You’ve believed the lie that one day you’ll wake up whole, when you already are, you just refuse to accept it.” He did a small circle and then wiped his hands down his face. “You need space? You need to find yourself?”
I gulped.
“Do it without me then, but remember this point in your life when I offered you everything and you didn’t trust yourself enough to take it.”
“Marlo—” I reached for him, touched him.
He jerked back. “Get the fuck away from me.”
“Marlo!”
He turned around.
And walked away.
He’d asked for my truth.
He’d asked for my confession.
He wasn’t ready.
Then again, neither was I.
I crumpled to my knees and sobbed.
I cursed my parents.
My life.
My past.
And for the first time since his death — I said my brother’s name.
“Kieren.”
It burned my throat.
It was as if the universe had a knife pressed into my chest.
Kieren.
Marlo didn’t know.
He didn’t know that I wasn’t whole.
I haven’t been since we’d buried my other half.
Since my parents blamed me for his death.
Since my twin’s bedroom had been locked away from the world as if he was going to come back some day.
I wasn’t whole.
Because I was born as a half.
TWO WEEKS AGO, I had everything.
Two weeks ago, despite being caught in a firestorm caused by a fucking firework — I was happy.
Deliriously happy.
Now? Now I wanted to day drink and punch anyone who looked at me sideways.
“You going over your lines?” Jackson elbowed me, then grabbed a cup and started filling it to the brim with black coffee.
I scrolled through the first act on my iPad and shrugged. “Seemed to be the only thing to keep me from throwing coffee at everyone who said hi.”
He whistled. “Is this what happens when you go without sex? Gotta admit, it’s a bad look on you. When was the last time you shaved?”
“When was the last time you had honey on your dick?” I countered.
“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll be surprised if I could ever get it up again after that traumatic experience, thanks.”
I looked up at him in confusion. “Wait, you’ve been… celibate?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know it is possible for me to keep it in my pants, thank you very much.”
“Right,” I nodded slowly, “But last time we had this discussion you just replied with, why would I do something like that?”
“Why, indeed…” He swore as he took a long swig of coffee. Jen and Ray had found solidarity in one another.
Jen was pissed because Jackson was actually trying to do the right thing, just with poor execution.
And Ray?
Well, Ray still looked beautiful.
She also looked lost again.
The circles under her eyes concerned me, but not enough to go over and pull her into my arms.
Because I was an addict for her.
And I knew it would cause an explosion of hatred, rage, love, anger, and everything in between.
It would be a catastrophic explosion.
And we’d be back at square one.
She looked up at me.
I scowled and looked away.
“So, things with Ray are progressing, at least you’re looking in her direction without yelling.”
“I hate her. I love her,” I admitted. “I want to strangle her then kiss her senseless, it’s a problem.”
“Maybe leave out the strangling,” Jackson suggested helpfully.
I shot him an evil look and found a seat far, far away from the girls, he followed, Brax, dirty traitor, winked at us then went and joined the girls.
I heard them laugh.
And it suddenly felt like high school all over again.
Only this time it was worse.
Because I knew she loved me.
I knew she cared.
And yet she wasn’t willing to give me everything, was she?
She wasn’t willing to let go of it all.
She held on to her pain the way people hang on to their loved ones, almost like it was so familiar she wasn’t sure she could survive without it, not realizing that the very thing that made her feel safe was killing her.
The words on the screen in front of me blurred a bit before I just shoved the iPad down and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.
When I looked up it was to see Jen staring me down with a worried look on her face.
“Spill.” I crossed my arms.
She jerked her head to the side. “Make him go away and I will.”
“You have her doing recon?” Jackson snapped his fingers in the air. “And I’m right here, have I told you yet how much I miss your wet—”
Jen clapped a hand over his mouth.
He grinned behind her hand.
Hey, at least him teasing her kept them in physical contact.
I would do anything to touch Ray.
My fingers itched.
My chest ached.
And nothing took the pain away.
Jackson stared up at Jen.
/> Jen stared at me.
I cleared my throat.
With a grunt, Jackson stood, then leaned toward Jen and whispered, “I smell you on my skin, every damn night… just thought you should know, you’re driving me crazy.”
“Good.” She didn’t look at him, but I saw her falter, saw her clench her hands into tiny fists to keep from reaching out.
Yeah, give it a week and he was going to be bringing Gatorade to his cabin and ordering condoms in bulk.
Lucky him.
Jackson gave me a middle finger salute and walked off while Jen sat opposite me, her face impossible to read. “She misses you.”
“Good.” My voice came out sounding bitter, angry.
Jen leaned forward and reached out her hands. I grabbed them both and squeezed. “How are you Jen, really?”
“Bad.” Tears filled her eyes. “I love him, and he thinks he loves me, what if this all ends and he goes back to being Jackson? I want to punish him but I don’t know how long I can stay away. I’ve always loved him.”
“Jackson is…” I let out a sigh. “He’s complicated. Ever since his sister died, things haven’t been right. We were all altered when she killed herself. You do remember when you had to wake my drunken ass up for breakfast for a solid month right along with his right?”
She nodded. “Does Ray know?”
“About?”
“Her.”
“She knows enough.”
“I doubt it.” Jen angled her head like she was examining me. “There’s a lot you don’t know about her. I know you grew up gazing at her window and sighing like a girl every afternoon hoping to see a flash of boob, but the shit with her parents, it’s deeper than you could possibly imagine.”
“Her parents.” I drummed my fingertips against the table.
“Oh no, I know that look. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking it’s time for an impromptu parent visit day. We’ll use it as a dress rehearsal.” I grinned.
“That could very easily blow up in your face, you know that right?”
“Look, I’m the director, and what I say goes, right? Plus, it’s good practice for the campers and they get to see Mommy and Daddy, what could go wrong?”
“Only everything.” She groaned. “Plus, if my parents get wind…”
“Your parents are awesome.”
“They dressed up two years ago.”
“That they did.”
“As Batman and Wonder Woman and then made out in front of like half the staff and campers.” She glared at me. “We got complaints.”
I grinned. “But it was the best, wasn’t it?”
“Ugh, the best.” She laughed. “Fine, do your little parent day, I’ll send out the email this afternoon, you want it for the weekend or just overnight like previous years?”
“Let’s do overnight, that way if things do go bad it’s only a twenty-four-hour affliction.
“I hope you know what you’re doing. The reason they didn’t do parent day last year was because it distracted the campers and made them more homesick.”
“They’ll be fine.” I shrugged. “Make it happen, Jen.”
“Yes sir.”
I squeezed her hand.
“Also,” she said once she stood and let go of my hand. “You should know… she wants her chicken back.”
“Tell her to come and get it.”
I KNOCKED ON his cabin door twice.
It was late.
I knew he was in there because the light was on and because I always knew where he was — it was like my heart couldn’t help it.
I wasn’t okay.
I didn’t know how to be.
I just knew I needed my stupid chicken.
I knocked again.
Finally, the screen door opened.
And there he was, my lawn boy, farm boy, my Wesley, my love. No shirt, so naturally all I saw was abs. Abs that I’d had my mouth on, skin I’d scratched, hips I’d wrapped my legs around. My vision lowered to the V I’d wanted to take picture of and save on my home screen.
He cleared his throat and crossed his arms.
“The chicken,” I got out past the tightness in my throat. “He’s mine.”
“Is it a custody issue? Because he’s been living with me for the past two weeks so…” He shrugged and then gave me an evil sneer that had me ready to strangle him. “Looks like your shit out of luck, maybe if you look hard enough you can find a turtle down by the beach.”
“I want the chicken,” I said through clenched teeth, taking a step toward him. “He’s my pet.”
“We voted, you lost, he likes it here better, plus isn’t your cabin a bit drafty?” He tilted his head, his stupid silky hair fell over his forehead, and even though he was scowling he was beautiful, almost more beautiful angry than when he was in love, which seemed impossible but there it was.
“Marlo,” I took another step toward him. He didn’t move out of the way, but his breath hitched. I lifted my chin. “What do I have to do to take my chicken back?”
“Kiss me,” he rasped. “Kiss me and you can take the chicken.”
“Where?” I tried to keep the shaking out of my voice.
“Wherever you like.” He towered over me. “Just one kiss, and you can take your pet home…”
“Fine.” I dropped to my knees in front of him.
His expression went from confident and angry to extremely pissed off. He wanted a kiss? I’d give him a kiss all right.
I’d kiss him.
Moonlight flickered across his chest as I dragged my fingernails down and then jerked his sweats down his hips and lowered my head.
“Ray—” His voice was angry, it was also disappointed, like I was doing something beneath me, like I was on the losing end instead of him.
Tears gathered in my eyes as I took him in my mouth, and then I parted with a kiss.
He didn’t move, just stared down at me like I was a stranger.
Swiping at my eyes, I moved past him and grabbed Johnny. He was on the other bed, set up in a little nest of clothes and magazines that I’m sure Marlo left for him.
I had him in my arms and was walking by Marlo, when I was hauled back by the arm.
He kissed me then.
He kissed me so hard my mouth hurt, my teeth clanged with his, Johnny started flapping in my arms like he was getting smashed.
And then Marlo released me just as hard as he’d grabbed me.
“Don’t be that girl,” he said in a low voice. “Be better.”
“I hate you.”
“At least we have that in common,” he responded. “Though I think you probably hate yourself a little bit more, don’t you?”
“How dare you!” I about screeched as my tears began to flow freely. “You don’t know me!”
“Whose fault is that, I wonder?” he fired back with a roar, slamming his hand against the screen door. “I’d give you everything and you’d still find a way to say it wasn’t enough! I’m sorry I’m not rich enough for you. I’m sorry I’m not from the right family. I’m sorry I mowed lawns and grew up as a fucking servant. What else do you want from me. WHAT!? A lifetime full of apologies for not being enough?”
“I never said—” My voice cracked. “I never said it was you.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Spoiled princess strikes again.” He glared, his nostrils flaring as he drew fast, harsh breaths.
I slapped him.
I didn’t mean to.
He grabbed my hand and then sighed as if he was relieved. “I’ll take your hate if I can’t have your love. Isn’t it sick? I just want something passionate from you, whatever the cost.”
“Remember, you’ll always have both.” I said, my face soaked with tears that were now dripping off my chin.
“One eventually has to win, Ray. And I won’t wait forever. I’m done waiting. You love me, you hate me, you don’t trust yourself, you don’t trust me — find a way, because this—” he motioned between us
. “—is over.”
The door slammed in my face.
I wanted to kick it back open.
I wanted to scream and tell him he was wrong.
But he was right.
About everything.
Shame descended on me like a storm cloud as I walked back to my cabin, and no amount of tears could make it go away.
I wanted my mom.
I wanted my dad.
I wanted Kieran.
He would know what to do.
He’d died at such a young age, but he had been my best friend.
With shaking hands, I dug into my bag and pulled out the Polaroid I brought with me everywhere.
A dark-haired, dark-eyed Kieren. A light-haired, light-eyed me.
It was hard to remember the good times because the bad times so often overshadowed the good.
It was hard to remember a day where my parents said they loved me because it had been so long since they had.
Six years old.
We had only been six.
I hugged the stupid chicken, which managed not to move or get crushed in my arms, and I cried.
I cried for him.
For me.
For the prodigy that he was, the star he would have been, and I wondered if there was ever a time in my life when my parents hadn’t wished it had been me instead of him.
“HEY…” I KNOCKED on Jackson’s door and let myself in. I knew he was alone. I located a bottle of whiskey within thirty seconds, grabbed it, sat on his bed and took a long swig then laid back. “Tell me you have weed.”
He was so quiet that I looked up to make sure he wasn’t already passed out. He eyed me like he didn’t know me anymore. Shit, if this was love, sign me up as a pass next time.
“I have weed,” he finally blurted. “You can’t have it, said it throws off your creative process, but I’ll be happy to smoke it on your behalf.”
I held out my hand.
He shook his head. “Aren’t you the director of camp this year? Doesn’t it state in the rule book that you won’t do any drugs, legal or not?”
“Can’t I fire your ass for possession?” I wondered out loud.
“You could, you won’t.” He grinned. “Also, you’re weird when you’re high. Last time you ate all of my food and then got pissed when we couldn’t get pizza delivered.”
Summer Nights Page 3
