The Summer of '98

by Tay Marley

  I stacked the books from biggest to smallest and set them against the wall. The Post-it notes were soon placed in a small pile, and the pens were dropped into the cup where a lone permanent marker was housed. It looked so much tidier in a matter of moments and when I glanced up with a satisfied sigh, I was met with two pairs of eyes, watching me with curious fascination.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I just—”

  I stammered for an excuse but there wasn’t one. My mild obsession for things being in their place caused me to be scolded by Momma on more than one occasion for touching things that didn’t belong to me.

  “You can do my Tupperware cupboard next if you want,” Eleanor broke the silence with amusement. Leroy laughed and continued cutting up vegetables and potatoes beside his mother.

  I admired how his biceps flexed with each stroke of the knife. How delicate he was with his large hands and how the tip of his tongue peeked from between his lips as he concentrated.

  “Oh—ar—are you sure?” I turned my attention to Eleanor, rather than the drool-worthy boy beside her. I didn’t want to just start going through her cabinets in case she was kidding. But I wouldn’t mind stacking plastic instead of cooking.

  “I’m dead serious,” she said, stirring what looked like breadcrumbs and eggs in a bowl. “That cupboard is a nightmare. It’s a sport to put things away now. We just open the door, throw things in, and attempt to close it before a Tupperware avalanche takes over the kitchen.”

  I laughed with her childish giggle and moved around the countertop, heading toward the cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. I realized that perhaps I should have watched a couple of her news broadcasts to become more familiar with this woman. She wasn’t what I had been expecting at all, and it was refreshing to know that money didn’t equal snobbery.

  “Ellie,” Eleanor said over her shoulder as I knelt in front of the cabinet. “What do you want to do now that you’ve graduated?”

  “I want to—”

  As I opened the door, just as she’d warned, dozens and dozens of containers, lids, cups, and every variety of plastic that you could imagine came loudly tumbling out of the cupboard.

  At least we’d have plenty of time for conversation.

  The meal was delicious. A stuffed roast chicken with all the extras. Vegetables, potatoes, gravies, and sauces. I had expected that the atmosphere might have been a bit tense with Noah but he didn’t talk a lot during the meal and Eleanor kept the conversation moving enough to expel any awkward lulls.

  Leroy’s dad seemed nice. He didn’t talk a whole lot, either, but what he did add to the conversation was pleasant enough. As it was Saturday, and we had plans to go out for the evening, Leroy negotiated with his mom about pushing back the curfew until one in the morning. It seemed a waste of time to only go out until ten. She agreed that it was fine with her, but I would have to clear it with Momma over the phone.

  I was offered a little bit of privacy in the dining area so that I could use the phone while Leroy went to get ready. The phone rang while I twirled the cord around my finger, hoping that Momma would be in a gracious mood. Maybe I could always lie if she says no?

  “Hello, Sandra speaking?”

  “Hi, Momma.”

  “Ellie!” Momma all but shouted down the phone line. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you all afternoon. How was the flight? How’s Castle Rock and all that? Having a good time?”

  “It’s great here.” I couldn’t help but smile when I thought about Leroy. “Listen, I called to ask something.” The phone crackled. “Could I perhaps extend the curfew this evening? Leroy and I are going to a little gathering with some of his high school friends. It’s a sort of farewell for one of them going off to school.”

  There was a brief pause, silence came through the receiver, and I felt as though I was holding my breath in anticipation.

  “Will there be alcohol?”

  “No,” I lied. “His parents are going to be there. It’s a family-friendly event.”

  “What time would y’all be in?”

  “One in the morning.”

  Again, there was a pregnant pause until she sighed, the telltale sign of a win. “All right. Be good though. Hear me? Don’t do something stupid.”

  “I promise, Momma, thank you.”

  “Is that it? You just wanted to call to get a curfew extension, not catch up with me?”

  I had been gone for less than twenty-four hours. Did I really need to go into a detailed conversation about the brief afternoon?

  “How about we recap at the end of one week, Momma?” I suggested, tapping my foot with impatience. “I need to get dressed. I love you.”

  “All right, then. Love you.”

  The phone base quietly clicked when I hung up. Jacob and Eleanor were in the living room talking over the television, gently arguing about what to watch. I tiptoed out of the kitchen and crept up the staircase.

  The shower was running as I walked past the bathroom door upstairs. My steps faltered for a moment, listening to the sound of Leroy’s upbeat humming. My imagination built up the sight behind this door. His built torso dripping wet, his hair damp and unkempt. Heat filled my cheeks at the images and I forced my eyes to the floor to hide the shame, although there was no one to see it.

  Fleeing to the spare bedroom and shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it and giggled, placing my flat palms on either side of my warm cheeks before fanning myself. I had never thought about sex this much before. Ever. But since we shared that night together, May 28, 1998—a night I would never forget—I hadn’t been able to rid myself of the constant hot flushes or the sinful thoughts that plagued me without mercy.

  I shook it off and changed into a yellow spaghetti-strapped dress with a white T-shirt on underneath it. An old pair of black Docs that I’d found dumpster diving completed the look. Next came mascara, lip gloss, and a spritz of hairspray to tame my natural waves, and I felt as ready as I ever would. I hadn’t felt nervous about the night before us, but I did get a little onslaught of butterflies when I thought about the fact that I’d be meeting Leroy’s friends. Would I make a good impression? He said he was looking forward to showing me off and it excited me to know that he felt I was worth showing off.

  Just as I finished folding the clothes up that I’d chosen and organized to wear tomorrow after a shower, there was a light tap on the door.

  “Come in.” Leroy came in and paused at the threshold. “Ellie, you look—stunning,” he said, his stare lingering on my bare legs.

  “You look great too,” I returned the compliment, because he did. His fitted faded-blue jeans flirted with the top of his black Chuck Taylors. The color of his shoes coordinated with the loose black T-shirt that was tucked at the belt of his jeans.

  “I suppose we should head downstairs,” Leroy murmured as he gazed to the left. I couldn’t see whatever it was that held his attention in the corridor, but his attention moved between myself and the outside of the bedroom, repeatedly, in a matter of seconds. “Noah is coming with us. I’m driving.”

  “That’s fine,” I smiled and waited for him to suggest that we leave. But once again, he stared off in the direction of the staircase and then back at me. His expression turned to desire as he gave me another once-over and in a fast moment, too quick to prepare for, he stepped over the threshold and tucked his hand behind my neck.

  “I need to do this before we leave,” he mumbled, not giving me a lot of time to be confused before his mouth was moving against mine. I melted into his embrace, wrapping my hands around his back and reveling in the sheer perfection that came with his touch.

  His breath was minty fresh and the scent of cologne invaded the last sense I was aware of. All else had fallen victim to his presence, to his kiss, to his hold. He was gentle, but from the light tug that he gave my hair, it was obvious that he was in charge and I was more than willing
to allow it. Just as I had been the first time.

  His tongue slid against my own, and although I had done this before, I still worried that I wasn’t good at it. But when a low groan of approval sounded at the back of Leroy’s throat, I felt a little more confident. His hands slid down my back, his warm fingertips brushing the exposed skin before they settled on my butt.

  When we parted—reluctantly—he stared at me with a longing and desire that I had never experienced with a boy before. He had assured me on more than one occasion that this wasn’t something brief or non-committal. He’d unequivocally assured me that what he felt for me was pure and true. And I believed him without a doubt. I know because I felt it too.

  A voice startled us from the bottom of the staircase, and I jumped with the unwanted interruption. “Hurry up! I wanna bounce!”

  “Fine, asshole!” Leroy shouted over his shoulder; his hands still rested on my lower back. “We’re coming!”

  “So is fucking Christmas!”

  He turned back to me, rolling his eyes with a frustrated sigh. But the moment that our gazes met, his entire expression and demeanor softened. “Ready then?”

  I took his hand, our fingers lacing together. “Let’s go.”

  Ellie

  We arrived at the house that was located at the end of a cul-de-sac full of other beautiful, large homes. I wasn’t expecting anything less, though—the rich mingle with the rich. A wave of unease rolled over me as we parked a few houses down and walked toward the rave. I didn’t belong around such high-society teenagers. I worried they’d be able to smell my barely-there bank balance. The people hanging out on the front lawn and large wind-around patio were all wearing expensive dresses, leather platform shoes and boots, bomber jackets, and brand jeans.

  My outfit wasn’t poorly put together; I knew how to dress. But it was purchased from the thrift store and I was sure that it was obvious. Especially from the judgmental once-overs that I received as I walked hand in hand with Leroy. Of course, there could have been another reason for the subtle scowls: to these girls, some outsider was on the arm of the school’s quarterback.

  We walked through the home and into the large backyard where people were spread out, talking, drinking, doing keg stands, and dancing. A few people were in the large pool—which wasn’t surprising considering the heat. Leroy was greeted continuously. He was brief with his exchanges—he spoke few words and moved on as fast as he could after introducing me. I reminded him that I didn’t need to be introduced to every person that we passed, but he insisted that he wanted everyone to know that he was dating the most beautiful girl there.

  We stopped beside a group of people who sat in a circle on outdoor garden sofas, passing a few joints between each other. A familiar lean boy with golden-brown skin and black, curly hair stood from the couch with an inviting and kind smile. “You made it,” he exhaled a cloud of smoke and offered the joint to Leroy, who declined.

  “Wouldn’t have missed it,” Leroy said. “Ellie, you remember Eric from our weekend in Waco.”

  “Nice to see you again, gorgeous,” he winked and I noticed that, even though his jaw was a bit uneven, he had the most charming and charismatic smile. He waved off someone’s offer for another drag on the joint. “Where’s Noah?”

  “Probably balls-deep in his own ego,” a girl with light-brown ringlets said from the sofa below us. She glanced up and flashed an innocent grin. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Lee. Your brother is an absolute self-obsessed knob jockey dickhead.”

  “Ellie, this is Cass,” Leroy explained. “Cass, this is Ellie.”

  “Ahh, the famous Ellie,” she stood up with an energetic spring, causing the ringlets on her head to bounce. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Leroy here won’t shut up about his girl, which is a miracle—he’s a man of few words.”

  Leroy was watching me with that same soft gaze, and I wondered how it was possible that he was the same man with whom I had spent hours every single day on the phone. Paranoia set in, wondering if I’d been the one doing all the talking during our phone calls. That seemed impossible, though—I wouldn’t feel like I knew Leroy as well as I did if that had been the case.

  “I love that dress,” Cass reclaimed the conversation. “Where’s it from?”

  Now-familiar anxiety flared up. I didn’t want to lie about who I was, but I was already feeling out of place and it felt like this would cement that I didn’t belong. She raised her brows. “It’s from a thrift store back in Waco.”

  “Score!” She clapped her hands together. “I love thrift shopping. That’s an amazing find.”

  Relief flooded through me. Her outfit didn’t look like it was from the thrift store. She was dressed in a sheer blouse, tucked into the waist of a black leather skirt. But even if she was exaggerating to make me feel better, it worked, and I appreciated it.

  “Do you two want a drink?” Eric asked.

  Leroy looked to me for an answer and I gave a quick nod, not wanting to seem reserved and quiet all night when it was apparent that he knew most of these people and we’d be faced with ongoing conversation all night. At least liquid courage would assist in bringing me out of my shell and I could seem more confident.

  Cass and I were out of breath, dancing around the small fire pit on the concrete patio, screaming our lungs out to Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box” while we refueled on the unidentifiable liquid in our cups. We’d been at the party for about three hours, and three drinks in, I had found the courage I’d been looking for. The umpteen amount of drinks after that were just for thirst.

  Leroy and Eric sat on the couches, each with a beverage in hand while they chatted with other friends around them. Occasionally I’d catch Leroy watching me, one side of his mouth turned up in amusement. I was sure that I looked ridiculous, but I was having fun, so I didn’t care.

  When the song changed, Cass and I squealed, and I downed the remainder of my drink. I threw the paper cup into the fire and bounced up and down with Cass, our hands in the air as we belted out the chorus to Rage Against the Machine’s “Killing in the Name Of.” There were a few other people doing the same around the yard, shouting the words, getting hyped up as the outro neared.

  Cass was on form as Noah came sauntering around the corner with a sway in his step. He eyed her greedily as he leaned against the back of the couch, sipping his beer. She wasn’t oblivious to him and she directed the lyrics at him, emphasizing the “fuck you” part.

  She spun around in a circle that almost seemed . . . flirtatious. I wasn’t a big fan of cursing, so I just continued to dance, mouthing over the words that she so vehemently aimed at the younger Lahey brother.

  He didn’t seem bothered, more amused than anything, and I wondered if there was more than just hostility between the two. It was as though their sexual tension was being masked by anger and insults. Noah stood up and walked toward her. She carried on dancing beside me, shouting the lyrics as he got closer and closer. When he came to a standstill in front of her, she laid a solid slap across his cheek that no one seemed the least bit surprised or concerned about, least of all him. He smirked at her before he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and kissed her with obvious aggression.

  What the hell was I watching? There’s no way this is healthy. Eric and Leroy were engrossed in a conversation, and when my attention turned back to Cass, she was very much into the kiss, the two of them having at each other as they backed toward the house. Should I follow Cass and tell her that she might regret that in the morning? She might not. Who was I to judge the situation? Not that I’d have been able to find them considering there were now two back doors, and both were blurred and moving, and the ground beneath me was no longer stable.

  Leroy

  Ellie was standing beside the fire pit, watching Cass and Noah retreat into the house. She looked adorable—all dumbfounded and confused. She wasn’t alone in her confusion—who knew why the hel
l Cass kept going back for more? We both knew Noah wouldn’t be interested in the morning.

  “I better go and get that one,” I said to Eric, gesturing at Els, who was suddenly looking wobbly on her own two feet. A couple of quiet drinks had turned into a half dozen and it was clear that it had gone straight to her head. Still, she was having a good time, couldn’t argue with that.

  “Where did Cass go?” Eric threw his empty cup at a trash can and missed.

  “Noah,” I explained.

  “Got it.”

  He gave me a quick nod as I stood up and walked toward Ellie. She spun around and collided with my chest. Startled, she stumbled backward but I wrapped a hand around her waist and kept her from falling over. The music was still blaring, loud and hard to hear over, so I leaned in close and watched her unfocused gaze trying to watch my face.

  “Should we get out of here?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “But . . . Cass and—”

  “That’s just them,” I explained. “They hate each other so much that they regularly fuck. No one gets it. No one tries. We just leave them to it. Should we dip?”

  “If you want.”

  “We can stay if you’d prefer?”

  “Na-uh,” she slurred and fell into my chest. Shit, she was worse than I realized. “Lesgo.”

  “You want me to carry you?”

  “No,” she said, but there wasn’t a lot of effort on her part to get moving. Eric watched us from the sofa, a couple of the cheerleaders flanking him now, and he gave me a questioning thumbs-up.

  “I’ve got it,” I called back and put an arm around Ellie.

  Finally, we were headed toward the back gate. The concrete was scattered with solo cups and bottles and even a few teammates who had decided to pass out where they stood. It was times like these where I was tempted to hold a random Sunday football practice just to watch them all suffer for the hell of it. But as entertaining as that would be, I knew it wouldn’t be fair considering all of them put one hundred percent into their game. The weekends were for blowing off steam and they deserved that.