by J. E. Taylor
“Hi, I’m Jamie.”
They looked at my hand and then each other before the little blonde girl, who was about my same height, clasped my offered hand in hers.
“Natalie,” she said and nodded toward her friend. “This is Becky,” she added. I gave her a nod and then my gaze landed on Bedroom eyes again.
“Rob,” he said and offered his hand. His grip was warm and firm and he held my hand for a beat longer than usual. By the time he let go, my other friends had joined us.
“This is Mia, Tina, and Pete,” I said, waving to my small posse. “So, what do you think of the school?”
Rob glanced over his shoulder at the hostile gang still tossing verbal rockets in my direction and then his gaze returned to mine. The slow rise of his eyebrow was all I needed and I let out a dark chuckle.
“Yeah, they seem to have a problem with me,” I said and added an eye roll and a shrug.
The three newbies traded a glance, but before anyone could comment, a few more of our friends came around, before the break was over we had a healthy group of at least a dozen kids buffering me from the bitches, and I had the seat between Natalie and Rob.
My group of friends grew, while Heather’s gang only seemed to increase by one or two people. Her recruiting efforts must have been failing as much as her ability to make people cry and run in fear. Whenever I caught her gaze, I saw an unjustified anger reflected there.
It was almost as if the heat of the summer had turned the simmering pot into a full boil, and the bitches were more relentless than they had been the prior year. I endured the first day without any physical confrontations. Verbal pipe-bombs were still thrown, but they had completely lost their sting. Ignoring them became second nature and their taunts became just annoying background noise.
It still ate away underneath, as much as I hated to admit it I still had to control the rising tide of anger. My punch locker sessions remained and I liked the bitter sting of my knuckles with each connection to metal.
A COUPLE OF WEEKS INTO the school year, Pete leaned over as I took a long drag of my cigarette and ignored the digs. He whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”
There wasn’t even a second of hesitation. I met his deep chocolate eyes and nodded. We ditched school and headed for his car.
“Where’s Tina?” I said when he opened the passenger door for me. This was one of the first times since we all met at the skate park last year that I had seen him without his girlfriend.
He shrugged and closed the door on any further questions.
As soon as we were off school grounds, I glanced in his direction. “What happened?”
His sigh was heavy, and he slid his gaze in my direction before he focused back on the road. “We’re not exactly getting along these days,” he said. “She thinks I’m partying too much.”
“Is there such a thing?”
My snappy come back prompted a laugh.
“Where are we going?”
“Manchester,” he said. “I met some cool people this summer and they said to come by anytime, so...”
“And you needed to get away from Tina,” I added, filling in the blanks.
“Just as much as you needed to get away from that constant beat down crap.”
It was my turn to laugh and I just nodded and watched the scenery. I never talked about how angry I was at the circumstances. Not even to my closest friends, so his observation brought a flurry of unwanted emotions to the surface. I wiped at the mist in my eyes, angry at my own response.
Pete’s hand slid onto my thigh and gave it a squeeze. When I turned in his direction, he offered a tight smile and pulled into the nearest parking lot.
“Talk to me,” he said as he set the parking break.
I shook my head, but a damned tear escaped. Pete had the warmest hug of anyone I knew and he delivered one that broke the floodgates. When I stopped shaking, he pulled my head away from his chest and smoothed my hair before he met my gaze. He wiped my tears with his thumbs and leaned in, delivering an unexpected kiss.
His lips were soft and when his tongue swiped across mine, I opened my mouth, welcoming the sensation before my brain caught up. I jerked away. My eyes flew wide. So did his and we just stared at each other.
A new emotion wrangled inside me. Confusion. This was one of my best friend’s boyfriend. And he’d just kissed me.
And I liked it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and busied himself with getting back on the road.
I settled back in the chair, still shocked at our slip up. “Why?” I asked quietly after a few minutes of awkward silence.
He let out a laugh. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
“I’m not asking why you’re sorry. I’m asking why you kissed me,” I asked, turning toward him.
He was silent, and then at a stop light, he slid his gaze to mine. “I wanted to.”
It was a simple answer and one I didn’t quite expect. I thought it was a pity kiss delivered to appease the poor crying mess in the passenger seat. It never occurred to me that he might want to kiss me. Not with the tall, red-headed, spit-fire of a girlfriend he had.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed. It was my full-bodied shocked into humor laugh, not my forced quadrangle laugh laced with sarcasm, and dimples appeared in his cheeks. I kind of felt like Rudolph when Clarice told him he was cute.
“Cute?” I said as my laughter wound down.
“Yeah. Like a little china doll I want to protect.”
We hadn’t even gotten high yet, and I was busting a gut in the front of his car. His multiple dimples appeared as he joined in the laughter, and my god, it felt good to let go for a change.
He pulled into a parking space and ripped the emergency brake up. Without any words, he took my face in both his hands and kissed me. He could kiss as sweet as he delivered hugs, and I couldn’t help it. I melted into it this time.
When our lips parted, he studied my eyes and I did the same, looking for some semblance of insincerity. There was none, but that still didn’t skirt the fact he was dating my friend.
“You need to stop doing that,” I said and he nodded. “At least while you’re still going out with my friend.”
“I just...” He trailed off and shrugged. The car jerked into gear and when we arrived at our destination, I glanced up at the duplex, and over the car at him. The place was hopping.
When we stepped into the crowded house, I traded a glance with Pete. “Does anyone in Manchester go to school?”
He smiled, and someone offered him a beer. “You want one?” he asked, holding it out to me. I scooped it out of his hand and cracked it open, searching for a quiet spot where I could observe the madness. The last couch cushion was free, and I maneuvered my way there, taking a seat before rummaging through my purse for a cigarette.
Pete worked the room, and I watched all the comings and goings, and when I was offered a passed joint, I took a drag and moved it along to the next person. We must have been there for a good couple of hours when a rumpled, sleepy-eyed girl came down the stairs at the slow gait of a person just waking up. She looked around like the ruckus in the house was normal and then she continued into the kitchen like a zombie. A few minutes later, she emerged and took the seat opposite me with a coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She gave me a nod and nursed the coffee.
I found it fascinating that someone could sleep through all that was going on, and still wasn’t with the program. It wasn’t until the coffee cup was empty and two more cigarettes were smoked that she seemed to come to life.
“I’m Kim,” she said to me.
“I’m Jamie,” I said. “I came with Pete,” I added waving in the direction of the animated conversation in the opposite corner. “Does anyone in this town go to school?”
Kim burst out laughing as she scanned the crowd. “None of the fun people do,” she said. “Want a bee
r?”
“I already had one,” I said, and I was feeling a little unsteady from both the beer and the weed. “Do you have a Pepsi, instead?” I asked. My mouth was a little dry, and I could use the caffeine.
“Sure,” she said, and disappeared. When she came back, she handed me a Coke.
I suppressed the smile and cracked the soda open as she sat with another cup of coffee.
“You really slept through this?” I twirled my finger at the chaotic room.
She nodded. “I sleep like the dead,” she added.
I laughed. She was pale enough to entertain the question of whether she was truly alive, or one of the walking dead.
“Well, I’m going to go clean up, it was nice meeting you.” She stood and headed back the way she came.
Pete made his way over to me and took the seat on the couch, giving my leg a pat.
“You about ready?”
I nodded and finished off my soda, setting the can on the table with the rest of the empties. Instead of heading right back to school, Pete took me to Henry Park and I took a seat on the wall, looking up at the tower. Instead of taking a seat next to me, Pete stepped in front of me, blocking the bright sunshine.
“I need to ask you something,” he said and then looked off into the distance. He slid his hands in his pockets and met my gaze. “Is there anything here?”
The hesitant way he asked made me pause. I wasn’t into stabbing my friends in the back and what happened today was wrong, but the electric jolt of his touch made me feel alive. It made me feel. That was a rarity I couldn’t ignore.
I glanced at the hills behind him and then back at his hopeful expression, analyzing the turmoil of butterflies inside me. Was his warm hug and exceptional kiss enough reason to trash a friendship?
“Pete,” I said with a sigh.
He nodded and stepped away, putting distance between us. After a moment, he took a seat next to me and slung his arm around my shoulder. “You know I love you, right?” he asked.
I huffed a half-laugh, and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” I jabbed his ribs with my elbow. He had become a close friend, like the rest of the skating clan, and that was more important to me than having a boyfriend. “You know you’re an exceptional kisser, right?” I added with the beginnings of a grin.
He squeezed me closer and planted a kiss on my temple. “So are you.”
We pulled into the school a little while later, and waited for the bell to ring. It was easier to slip into school unnoticed between classes and we both sat in the car, staring at the brick building and checking our watches.
“What happened today...” he started.
“Stays between us,” I finished and met his gaze. “I don’t want to ruin a friendship, and I don’t think you really want to screw things up with her.”
He nodded, and the relief that softened his features burned in my stomach.
I turned my attention back to the school. “With that said, anytime you decide to do a Manchester run, consider me in.” I gave him a sideways glance. “It’s better than this hellhole.” I hooked my thumb at the building, and the bells rang, signaling the end of the current class.
“I go almost every day,” he said, as we walked toward the school.
“Works for me.” I reached for the door and his hand intercepted, pulling it open for me. I gave him a nod, and we went separate directions. I headed toward my English class, bypassing the courtyard, for a change.
THE NEAR DAILY CROWD of kids at Kim’s house perplexed me, and she was right, she did sleep like the dead. She began frequenting the skate park, too, and we became very close. She knew about the occasional kiss Pete stole, and she knew a little about the struggles I had at my own high school, but I never let on just how numb I was inside, or why I allowed Pete to steal kisses from time to time.
Every time he did, my heart would knock in my chest and my blood would pump, warming every inch of my body. Adrenaline. I craved the rush as much as I craved the freedom from ridicule.
It was a vicious circle that kept my mind entertained on something other than the verbal spam slung in my direction on a daily basis. The more we hung out, the more risky his advances became. The more risk involved, the bigger the adrenaline rush. The more I suppressed my anger on school grounds, the more I craved the emotional release that accompanied the adrenaline rush.
Vicious and equally liberating.
Silence Chapter 5
New Year’s Eve, blackberry brandy, and a cemetery. Not a good combination, especially since it was a very big bottle of brandy that Mia, Tina, and I downed before we got the bright idea to visit the graveyard. We stumbled the short distance; laughing at the clouds our breath made on the frigid air, and the fact we couldn’t feel the cold, even without coats or shoes. Walking over the frozen grass was a challenge. Our socks kept sticking, pulling us off balance into a drunken tilt, as if hands escaped from the grave with the sole purpose of dragging us under.
Despite the chill, and the frozen ground grasping at our socks, we danced around like it was spring and we were at the fiddle contest in Harford. We laughed until we threw up in the bushes and then we stumbled down the road, meeting Pete half way up the hill on his way to Mia’s house.
He wrapped his arms around Tina and me, leading us back to Mia’s house. I don’t remember much from that point on, except for hurling in the bathroom toilet more than I cared to. Mia’s parents were gone for the weekend and her older brother was supposed to watch us, but he had gone partying with friends, leaving us to our own devices.
When the sun came up, I thought my head was going to split open and leak blackberry brandy all over the floor of Mia’s house. Just the thought of that sweet alcohol pulled a gag from my throat. I don’t ever remember a hangover this raw, and when I opened my eyes and saw Pete and Tina intertwined on the other bed, a stab of jealousy added to the misery.
I crawled out of bed, grabbing my toothbrush and clean clothes, and stepped into a hot shower. Refreshed as much as humanly possible in my condition, I pulled my clothing on and ran a hairbrush through my long brown hair. I finished off with a quick scraping of my teeth and a dab of blush to make my pale features a little less sickly. I still sported dark circles under my eyes, but I looked better than I had when I walked into the bathroom.
Tiptoeing across the floor, I packed the rest of my clothing into my bag and sneaked downstairs. I found a soda and took it out on the front porch, sitting down in the cold to have a smoke, in the hopes it would help the pounding in my head. My wet hair didn’t help and halfway through the cigarette, I was shivering.
The door squeaked, but I didn’t dare turn for fear my stomach would organize a revolt. When the jacket wrapped around my shoulders and Pete sat down next to me, I gave him an imperceptible nod.
“You cannot handle your alcohol at all, little girl,” he said, and gave me a hint of a smile.
“I handle beer just fine,” I said, but even my voice sounded as ragged as I felt.
He smiled and glanced over his shoulder before he kissed my cheek.
“Not now,” I whispered, suddenly annoyed that he was trying to steal a kiss when his girlfriend was somewhere inside the house a few feet away. Normally, it would have sent a thrilling shiver through me, but I was feeling way too crappy to have any reaction to his games.
He leaned back, and a crease of puzzlement appeared between his eyes.
“I feel like shit, already,” I answered his silent question. “I don’t need to feel any worse at the moment.”
“Are you...” He paused and glanced behind him. “Jealous?”
I let out a quiet laugh and shook my head. “No.” I wasn’t sure just how true that was, based on the flare of envy earlier that morning, but it wasn’t in my best interest to reveal that to him. “I’m fucking hung over and not sure whether I’m going to throw up or not.” I took a drag of the cigarette. “Again,” I added as I blew the stream of smoke at him.
My teeth started chattering and he raised a
n eyebrow. “You about done with that?” He nodded toward the cigarette in my hand and I nodded, shooting it into the street to die a slow death, and headed inside.
I unwrapped the jacket and handed it to him before curling up on the corner of the couch, nursing my soda. Each sip of cola took a minute to settle and I closed my eyes.
“I’m never drinking blackberry brandy again.” Even saying the word made my stomach roll, and I clamped my teeth together, willing my belly to calm down and not empty the contents on the floor. Eventually, I won the battle.
Pete and I sat quietly watching television until Tina and Mia came downstairs.
Mia wiggled the empty bottle at me, chuckling. All the heat left my face and I glared at her, gritting my teeth against the bile that burned at the back of my throat. She headed to the trash, tucking it in under the bag of empty soda cans and chip bags that we had gone through, as well.
Pete gathered his coat and gave me a nod, walking outside with Tina to say goodbye before he headed off in the direction of home. When she stepped into the house, a chill came with her.
“You were one sick puppy last night.”
“Sorry,” I whispered, focusing on the floor, embarrassed by my actions. She sat on the couch and gave me a small pat on the shoulder.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. We were all worried about you.”
“I’m fine, but I do have some... bizarre memories.”
“Like what?”
“Like dancing in the graveyard?” I raised my gaze to her and to Mia who entered the room with a plate of toast for all of us.
“That was a hoot!” Mia said. She seemed to be completely unaffected by the alcohol she’d consumed last night and for just a second, I hated my friend. She’d drunk just as much as I had, but didn’t seem to have the toxic reaction I did. Of course, I was only four-foot-ten and weighed ninety pounds, soaking wet. I sighed, resigned to the fact my slight figure was responsible for my complete lack of alcohol control.
