by Holly Hood
“Everything okay?” From the sound of things I don’t know if it is.
He tosses the ball. “Nothing really changes in Cherry. You know that.”
“I know. But how did they sound?”
Slade looks at me, playing with his lip ring it takes him awhile to say anything. “Erica told me she went to the grocery store the other day and a bunch of kids threw eggs at her.”
I frown. I feel awful.
“Lucy said her truck was broke into. And they spray painted the side of it.” He doesn’t tell me what it said.
“I feel really bad,” I tell him. “Life sucked before all of this mess now it’s worse.”
Slade shrugs. “It’s Cherry. I’m not too surprised.”
I sigh. It’s not what I want to hear.
Griffin plows into me. “Let’s go get ice cream!”
I shake my head. “I’m not really feeling ice cream right now.”
Slade looks at me. “Don’t be like that. If Griffin wants ice cream I say we give it to him.” He chucks the ball at the porch. “What do you say, buddy?”
Griffin jumps on Slade and he pretends he knocks him over into the grass. It’s cute, watching his muscular frame covered in tattoos pretend to be vulnerable for once.
I follow the two of them out of the gate, a smile pinned on my face. Slade lifts him onto his shoulders and we start toward the ice cream store. It’s around the corner from our house.
“What are you doing?” Karsen yells from her porch.
Kidd is sprawled on the porch swing his head in her lap.
“We’re getting ice cream,” Slade informs her. “You guys should come.”
MOST DAYS A COOKIE dough blast would cure any problem I have but not right now. Every time Griffin looks up and giggles at Slade for making a silly face or doing something stupid the pain in my stomach grows.
I’m enjoying being home while things in Cherry are falling apart for his family. It doesn’t seem fair.
Karsen spoons a heaping glob of her banana split into Kidd’s mouth and looks over at me. “You missed one hell of a show the other night.”
I nod. “Slade said the owner loved them. He wants to have them there a couple times a week.”
Karsen nods. “Pretty soon they are going to be rock stars. I can feel it.”
Kidd leans back messing with the silver rings on his fingers. “Slade and I need a new name. I’ve been racking my brain but can’t come up with anything.”
Slade rubs the back of his neck, he takes a sip of his milkshake. “We’ll figure it out.”
Kidd shrugs. “We always do.”
I push my spoon down into my ice cream and look at Slade. I can’t take it anymore. “I think you should go home.”
“What?” Kidd says.
“What the hell?” Karsen snaps.
Slade shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”
I concentrate on my fingers. “Your sister misses you and your band is falling apart.”
Kidd scoffs. “Erica is a big girl. She can handle being without Slade.”
“The town is making them miserable,” I argue.
“The town always makes them miserable,” Karsen argues. “What is wrong with you?”
I sigh. “We came back home to our lives and took them away from theirs, doesn’t any part of you feel bad they have to do without?”
Karsen refuses to answer me. She looks away. Kidd touches her face. “I’d be fine wherever I am as long as you’re with me, sex kitten. Hope must have fallen and bumped her head.”
I look at my brother. “We talked about this last night. Slade agrees this was a mistake. He said so himself.”
I ignore Karsen’s glare. I don’t care if she’s mad at me.
“You’re being stupid.” Kidd sighs. “We just got away from Cherry. We can start over here and you’re telling him to leave?”
Slade clears his throat. “She’s thinking about me. Don’t yell at her.”
“Oh, so what are you saying I’m selfish because I don’t want Kidd to run back to Cherry where his life was ruined?” Karsen glares at the two of us. “We are happy. Happier than we have ever been.”
Slade hands over a napkin to Griffin. He’s doing a rather awful job of licking his ice cream. “Than by all means stay. I have a sister back home. And Lucy and Oz.”
Kidd shakes his head. “I can’t believe you want to go back.”
“I care about my sister.”
“Yeah well if they cared about themselves they would get the fuck out of there too.” Kidd looks away. “What’s stopping her from coming here?”
“You know what’s stopping her,” Slade says. “Cherry is all she knows. It’s close to Lucy. After my parent’s fucked us over she’s attached herself to her.”
“Why can’t Lucy come to?” Karsen says.
I wish I never said anything. Everyone is upset now.
I smile at Griffin. He smiles back.
“Because she can’t,” Slade snaps. “We don’t need to be discussing all the details right now.” He looks at Griffin. “Lucy will never leave Cherry. So let’s just drop it.”
Kidd stands up. “Yeah, let’s drop it. Come on, Karsen.”
Slade and I watch them get out of the booth. “You’re just going to leave?”
Kidd shrugs. “It doesn’t seem like it matters what I do. You have your mind made up.” And he looks at me. “And I’m pissed at you, Hope.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What did I do?”
“You’re the one pushing him to go. He needs to stay away from Cherry and live his life.” Kidd takes off. Karsen on his heels.
I sigh. “That wasn’t what I was trying to do. I wasn’t trying to upset him.”
“He’ll get over it.” Slade looks at me. “Were you serious?”
I shake my head. “Being here with Griffin and my mom I feel almost happy again. I don’t want to take that away from you.”
“I can go check on them and come back in a couple of weeks,” he says.
I nod. The thought of him going away hurts but it also makes me feel better because I know it’s what he wants. He needs to protect them.
“Why did you say Lucy would never leave Cherry?”
Slade bites at his lip ring. “It’s not that she wouldn’t. It’s that she can’t. The coven would never let her.”
“What’s a coven?” Griffin asks.
I look at Slade. He picks up a straw. “See this.” He snaps his fingers and the straw levitates.
Griffin smiles. “Cool.”
“A coven is like a family. A special kind of family who taught me some really cool things like the straw trick.” He hands over the straw.
I smile at Slade. “So a couple of weeks and you come back. It’s not that bad. I think we can handle a couple of weeks.”
“Better than college,” he says. “That was longer than a couple of weeks.”
I take his hand. “Whatever gets us through this.”
As long as we are together I know it all will work out.
15
I stand outside my house watching the storm roll in. Slade is next to me. He’s leaving.
And I know it’s for a couple of weeks but a part of me is being ripped from my soul and it hurts really bad.
“What a way to leave,” he says trying to make light of the moment. He doesn’t want me to cry.
I agree studying the clouds as they light up one after another.
“It’s sort of magical,” I say. The slow rumble builds and more clouds light up.
“I think there is a little bit of magic in everything.” He settles onto the porch swing abandoning his bag of gifts I bought for him to remind him what he is missing in Georgia. It’s the least I can do.
“Just once I wish we could use it to do something good,” I say with a sigh.
“We will,” Slade promises. “Everything takes time.”
I look away, holding back the tears ready to come out.
“Hope,” Slade s
ays. He knows I’m trying not to cry. I make one of those god awful noises burying my head into his chest.
I am trying to be strong and let him leave but I don’t want him to go. And I am too stubborn to tell him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod, wiping at my eyes with the back of my arm. “Just fine.”
He rubs my back and lets me ugly cry right there on the porch. I want to scream and plead with him to think about us and forget about his sister. But a selfish person would do that.
I know it’s not going to do me any good to voice my sadness. So I force myself to smile and accept his kiss. “Call me as soon as you’re home.”
Slade nods, our foreheads press against each other and he stares me down. “We both agree this is what we want to do right?”
I nod, pushing my mouth against his to avoid dealing with it. I kiss him hard, enjoying the feel of his lip ring, the way his tongue moves with mine, the faint taste of mint gum on his breath.
I hate the thought I won’t be able to do this whenever I want for weeks. So I take my time, pulling him close and wrapping myself up in his arms, his taste, his everything.
We break apart. And Slade stands up. “I can’t leave like this.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What?”
He pulls me up and then down the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I follow him to my backyard and then to the garage. He turns the knob and pulls me inside.
“What are you doing?”
He tears his shirt over his head. And I know the answer.
He walks over to me and yanks me by the shorts to him. Our bodies crash into each other. I smile up at him.
“I need to make love to you one more time before I leave,” he says, his mouth moving to mine.
I nod, letting him lead me to my dad’s old work bench, he backs me up pressing me against it.
His hands slip down my shorts and he slides them down. I go along with it shaking my shorts free from my feet. He brings down my underwear, his hands traveling back up to my waist. Another kiss and his hands are on my ass, his fingers dig in and he lifts me onto the work bench.
He undoes his pants, his belt buckles banging against the leg of the work bench. I pull him close, and he presses his hips against me. A million sparks ignite outside and in my chest at the feel of him against me. It never gets old, I slip my fingers through his dark hair, enjoying the moment before it’s gone and I am miserable.
I locate the waistband of his boxer briefs and tug them down. He kisses my neck and I run my hands down the muscles of his back stopping at his perfect ass. He’s every bit my idea of what the perfect guy is.
He helps me out of my shirt, and I take my hands away long enough to get my shirt off before I wrap them around him.
One hand drifts down until I find what I am looking for and I stroke him, each kiss he delivers gets a little more intense every movement my hand makes.
He kisses down my chest, lips and tongue coaxing moans from my mouth. My nipples harden and he sucks sending tremors down south.
I wrap my arms around him, enjoying another intense kiss. Lighting crashes outside the garage, and we attack each other trying to get every last bit of pleasure and comfort from each other while we can.
He pulls me to the edge of the table. I can’t believe this will be our last time for a few weeks. I know it’s going to be so hard to not be with him.
He grips my thighs and rubs against me up and down over and over again. I am so ready for him. But he continues to kiss my neck and tease me not giving me what my body needs.
“Slade,” I groan trying to move closer so he knows I need him inside of me.
“Shh,” he says shushing me. Another crash of lighting. His hand runs up my neck and he studies me watching my every movement. He enjoys watching me squirm for him.
“No more teasing me.” I kiss his neck. “I can’t take it anymore.” I wrap my legs around him. He takes me by the chin kissing me and gives me what I want.
He moves at a slow pace. He works in and out of me, taking his time, building me up into a glorious state of bliss.
I stroke his face enjoying our slow pace, enjoying everything. And when I kiss his neck his hips start moving faster. I pull him to me making him go deeper. Something falls on the floor and neither one of us care.
Slade slams into me. “I fucking love you.”
HE’S GONE AND I FEEL more alone than ever before. I sit in the tub in my bedroom soaking and fighting the tears. I sigh lying back in the water and touch my tattoo.
I swipe two fingers over it and smile. It’s not a heart anymore. It says I miss you. That makes me feel a little better.
I close my eyes, taking in the silence, listening to the soft hum, the smell of lavender candles in the air. I know in order for me to survive two weeks without Slade I have to occupy my mind.
And I know just what I need to do. I need to dance.
16
I move across the floor, spinning quicker than most people’s feet could carry them. I watch every perfect fluid movement in the mirrors of the studio.
With my hands above my head I raise one leg and point my toes turning away from the mirror when the music picks up in rhythm. I crash across the floor with a beautiful grace and drop to my knees.
It’s an old routine I worked on for one of the performances I was in and I received a standing ovation.
I’m thankful to Mrs. Julie for letting me stay after her class to get some of my stress out. She was my teacher back when I was dancing my heart out. And she was glad to have me back even if it wasn’t under her wing.
I stand up taking my place and start all over again, doing the same moves I remember. I float across the floor and stop right at the mirror. I move my head to the side and then the other side watching my body and how my muscles work.
I forgot how much I love to dance. I pick up the remote and flip to a different song. A fun song I never in a million years would apply to my dance training, it’s more a club song.
I bend at the knees and work my hips, doing my best twerking to the music. It doesn’t take long before I am fully entranced in the song and shaking things I normally wouldn’t shake.
I pop up and grab the bar, doing a mean strip tease, shaking my tits and my ass. I move backwards watching my moves and laughing. This is fun. I shake my shoulders, clapping my hands and bouncing around the room.
I could do this all day. I bring it down low and press my palms into the ground working it.
The door opens. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
I stop thrusting my pelvis and fall to my knees. My cheeks burn. “Mrs. Julie told me I could use the studio.”
He throws his jacket over his shoulder and comes a little closer. I’ve never seen him before.
“Mrs. Julie is my grandmother.” He smirks. “That was some good ass shaking.”
I right myself and push my hair out of my eyes. “I was trying to relieve some stress.”
He nods. “I understand.” He offers his hand. “I’m Ben. Julie’s grandson. You have some good moves.”
“Thank you, Ben.” He lifts the remote and turns up the music moving along to the beat a big stupid grin on his face. His blue eyes twinkle with this sick excitement someone has when they know they embarrassed you.
“I take it you dance?” I ask.
He moves a little closer offering his hand. I take it and allow him to swirl me around the room. “I’ve been around dancing my whole life. I know enough.”
I nod and collect my water bottles and gym bag. “It was nice meeting you. I was just heading out anyways.”
Ben runs a hand through his dark hair. “Did it help?”
“Did what help?”
“The dancing. Did it help with whatever is stressing you out?” He raises an eyebrow.
I shake my head. “Maybe for a minute.” I’m not feeling stress free anymore after being caught dancing like an idiot.
“I know this w
ill come off as me flirting with you, but I know a place that is really good for relieving stress.” He shrugs.
“I have a boyfriend.” I bring a hand to my hip. “Not that you are flirting with me. But I want to throw that out there.”
“And I have a girlfriend.” He brings a hand to his hip mocking me. “I swear it’s a lot of fun.”
I sigh, I guess it couldn’t hurt to do something out of the ordinary. “Okay. What is it?”
“There’s this place up the street, they have these open mics.” He hits the back lights. “A bunch of poets trying to bleed their heart out on stage.”
I frown. “And let me guess. You sit in the audience and mock them?”
He shakes his head. “No, I force myself to get up there and do the same.”
I’m debating on saying hell no and running for my car. Yeah I sing and yeah I dance but poetry, I don’t know anything about it.
“I wouldn’t know what to say,” I tell him.
“That’s fine. You can sit in the crowd and boo me if you want,” he says, heading for the door. “And don’t tell my grandma I didn’t clean up this place.”
I shrug. “Sure. As long as you don’t tell anyone I was in here twerking.”
He smirks at me.
“This is Magma. The best place to get trashed and spill your heart.” He opens the door for me. “And they have a dance floor if you feel like twerking.”
I roll my eyes. “No I don’t feel like twerking or drinking.”
He takes a seat and pulls out a menu. “They have really good mozzarella sticks too.” He touches his stomach. “I usually gain five pounds before I leave.”
I look him over. I don’t see a hair out of place or an ounce of fat on him. He’s tall and willowy with big blue eyes and perfect hair. He’s not what I imagine him to be, his personality doesn’t fit his preppy exterior. He’s laidback and silly and easy to get along with.
“You’re not from around here are you?” I ask.
He drops a hand down on his khakis. “I’m not. I’m from Vermont. I came here a couple years ago for school.”
“I see. Now it makes sense.” I loosen up a bit.
