“Well,” Travis says, standing.
And just like that…
“I’m late as it is.” He nods my way. “Tony, we’ll need to continue this at Christmas when you’re back in town, and we’re both learned men.”
“Where are you going?” Kristie asks.
“He has to work,” Joanne answers, disappointment in her voice.
Travis shrugs before opening his arms to her. They embrace and kiss quickly before he nods my way and smiles at Kristie. Then he’s gone, and it’s just us three.
“I thought he had tonight off,” Kristie says.
“He did,” Joanne answers as she goes to the door and watches him off. “Someone called in sick.”
“Who gets sick in the middle of summer?”
“What’s it matter? He’s gone.”
The thing is, she doesn’t look all that upset. Or maybe I’m not reading her right.
“Let’s go outside,” Kristie suggests. “At least there’s a breeze.”
I look beyond the screen door at the trees that stand listlessly—motionless.
Part III
We migrate to the backyard where there’s a hammock and some shade and absolutely no breeze to speak of. We try to fit three into the hammock by sitting on it like a porch swing, but it sags, smooshing us together and bringing about a lot of laughs. At first, I’m okay with the close proximity of two gorgeous girls pressing up against me until I realize I’m pinched between two gorgeous girls pressing up against me—one of which is my girlfriend and the other is my girlfriend’s sister. This reminds me of the stunt they pulled down by the Old Beaver, and suddenly our arrangement on the hammock feels awkward.
“Why do you have to go?” Kristie asks suddenly. She’s referring to Georgia, of course. She brings it up every time she starts feeling insecure, and since tonight is the big night, she must be feeling awfully insecure. She doesn’t want me to go away to a big school. She wants me to stay in Michigan, go to school here and get a safe little job working a desk at the bank. Nothing too extravagant, but nice enough to afford a three-bedroom rancher, a couple of kids, a family dog and a nice little life for ‘us’. She doesn’t want me to leave, because she knows she can’t. Her grades have been ‘intimidating,’ meaning community college is her only option. If I’m at UGA, and if she’s here, then there’s 900 miles between us, and there’s 900 other girls vying for my attention.
“I told you,” I say. “I’m coming back.”
“Well, call me crazy, but I think you’re running away.”
“I’m running away?”
“You could get your associates here and save a ton of money, but you’re so eager to get out of town and get away from me, that you’re jumping on the first bus out.”
“It’s not you, and you know that.”
“You don’t even know what you want to do. You haven’t even picked a major.”
“Please don’t make me feel even more guilty than I already am. UGA is a huge opportunity. It’s a big time school with endless potential. If I don’t jump on it now, it might not be there in two years.”
“If you got a four-point over at Lawton Community, you might have a shot at something even bigger.”
“Is that where you’re planning on getting your masters?” Joanne smirks.
“You shut up,” Kristie warns.
“You shut up.”
“Both of you shut up,” I snap.
“He’s never coming back,” Joanne sneers.
“Enough,” I interrupt before turning to Kristie. “I love you. And I will be back. I promise.”
“He’s never coming back,” Joanne repeats.
“I’m coming back,” I snap. “Jesus, what is with you two today?”
“You’re coming back?” Kristie asks. “As what? A high-powered executive? A VIP? Shiny shoes and pressed slacks? You’re leaving, Tony. Jo’s right. I have no idea who’s coming back.”
“This is entirely unfair,” I say. “I thought you’d be supportive. This is a big deal—for both of us. It’ll open doors.”
“Fuck doors. God opens windows.”
“You don’t even go to church.”
“I call it like I see it.”
“I invited you to come with me.”
Joanne snorts. “She doesn’t exactly have the grades.”
“I’m not talking about school. I just said she could come with me.”
“Lucky me,” Kristie pouts. “I get to tag along. I can wring my hands with worry while my big man is away at school getting an education so he can provide for his stupid little wifey who’s back home scrubbing the toilet.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Joanne giggles again.
“This isn’t funny!” Kristie shouts. “God…”
“She’s kidding,” I say softly as I wrap my arm over Kristie’ shoulder and pull her close. The thing is, it doesn’t feel natural. It feels like we’re playing a role, so I kiss her forehead and stand up before taking a few steps away.
“I don’t want you to go,” Kristie says.
“I’m coming back. I promise.”
“That’s not it. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. Something’s off, like it’s—”
“I’m not sure Travis is right for me,” Joanne interrupts suddenly, and Kristie and I are quickly reminded someone else is here too. When we turn around, Joanne looks somewhat pitiful sitting on the edge of the hammock, the hammock wrapped up around her, squeezing her in.
“What do you mean?” Kristie asks. “He adores you.”
She shrugs. “There just isn’t much chemistry. I mean, I like him, but I don’t know that it’s going anywhere. You know, like with you and Tony.”
“Oh, my god, in the last five minutes, what kind of chemistry have you been smoking, because I want some.”
“At least you’re fighting because you’re afraid of losing each other.”
“Is this what you want? To be fighting with your boyfriend in the last few hours before he abandons you?”
“I’m not abandoning anyone.”
“You and Travis have been together for a week,” Kristie continues. “You don’t know anything after one week.”
“Almost two,” she counters.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, but shouldn’t there be some kind of…spark or something?”
“No yeah-buts,” Kristie snaps. “I don’t want to hear it. You’ve been waiting for a good guy, and Travis is a good guy. At least give him a chance before you throw him back and whine about how the only guy that’s willing to put up with your retarded stutter is Ritchie Hudson.”
“She’s not retarded,” I murmur.
“And it’s not a stutter,” Joanne quips.
“Whatever.” Kristie says, raising her hands. “It’s not a stutter, and you’re not retarded.”
“I’m out of here,” I murmur.
“Tony…” Kristie gripes.
“Tony…” Joanne begs.
I stop walking, but I’m not ready to turn back yet. “This is not how I wanted my last day here to go.”
“She’s right,” Joanne says.
“I am?” Kristie asks.
“Which part?” I ask.
“The part where Ritchie is the only guy willing to put up with my retarded stutter.”
“Accent,” I correct.
Joanne shakes her head. “Travis hates it. It’s obvious.”
“He doesn’t hate it,” Kristie argues.
“Like you know. You don’t know what it’s like to be looked at like the town clown. You’re Miss Perfect.”
This is a fun conversation. I’m glad I stuck around...
“Besides,” Joanne continues. “I’m tired of him. He bores me.”
Kristie stands. “How could he bore you? You just met.”
“It means I’m bored,” Joanne returns. She’s angry, shifting back and forth from her spot on the hammock.
“Maybe I should just go,” I say.
<
br /> Kristie holds up a finger. “I’ve got you for the next five hours, so you’re not going anywhere.” She turns back to her sister. “And you’re never happy unless you have something to bitch about.”
Joanne frowns. “Says the princess with everything.”
“It’s really hot out here,” I murmur.
“I have everything?” Kristie says all shrilly. It’s not a pleasant sound. “You think I have everything? You’re GPA is over a full point higher than mine. You think I’m not jealous of how easily trigonometry comes to you?”
“I think I’m going to go,” I suggest.
“You’re going to stay put,” Kristie snaps.
“I really don’t want to be a part of this.”
“Travis is a good guy,” Kristie says to Joanne, ignoring me. “He’s sweet, good looking, smart and aside from your paranoid allusions that he’s merely putting up with your slur, he seems okay with you just the way you are.”
“Delusions,” Joanne corrects.
“Huh?”
“Paranoid delusions.”
“It’s really hot out here,” I complain.
Both girls stop talking and turn on me. Kristie looks pissed. “Would you like cheese with your whine?”
“Maybe I should just go.”
“You’re not going. This is the last time I get to see you until Christmas, so you’re staying.”
“I’m really thirsty.”
“Then I’ll get you a fucking glass of water!” She storms toward the house leaving me feeling like a heel.
I turn to Joanne. “That went well.”
She giggles and pats the hammock beside her.
“I think I’ve had enough of the hammock for one day.”
“Hammock or Kristie?”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you love her?”
I think a second before nodding. “Well, I…sure.”
She shrugs. “I’m convinced.” She gets up off the hammock and stands, stretching. She’s showing off her body, or if she isn’t, then that’s how I’m perceiving it. She has a sultry walk that doesn’t look all that natural, but it’s sexy anyway because it doesn’t look all that natural. And she’s using that unnatural sultry walk as she steps closer, her eyes locked on mine. I frown. Again. I’m doing a lot of frowning, because I’m pretty confused.
“Why Kristie?” she asks as she reaches my side.
“Why Kristie what?”
“Instead of me? You and me have more in common than you and her.”
“What?” I ask.
“Why her?”
“I’m sorry, what I meant to say was what?”
She doesn’t bite at my poor attempt at humor. Instead, she takes another half step closer. Now we’re practically touching. We’re so close that I can smell her perfume. It’s the same stuff her sister wears, which only heightens my confusion. They’re the same. The two of them are exactly the same, except for the mere fact that they’re not. Joanne and I actually do have more in common than Kristie and me.
“When you look at me,” she says, “what do you see?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No. I’m being serious. What do you see?”
“My friend. You.”
She says nothing.
I say nothing though I get what she’s driving at. I can’t say it, but I get it. I see a pretty girl. A gorgeous girl. I see someone I’ve known since grade school but never looked at in that way. Not until now. Now I suddenly see her as the perfect girl. The girl who would support my choice to go away to school instead of fighting it. Hell, she’d go with me. We’d both excel, and we’d both wind up with MBAs, high-paying jobs, a fancy house on some cul-de-sac and two BMWs parking in our three-stall garage. She’s every bit as pretty as Kristie, and I just realized that her goofy slur, while annoying at times, is kind of cute in its own right. She’s smiling as though reading my mind, and I can’t help but feel that this guttural, knee-jerk, nose-pinching, breath-holding moment is nothing more than teenage hormones screwing with my head. Joanne tries to wrap her arms around me, but I back off—holding her at arm’s length. “What are you doing?”
“One kiss,” she pleads.
“I can’t...”
“If it’s awkward, then at least we’ll know. We won’t have to wonder all the time.”
“But I’m with Kristie.”
“You two are entirely incompatible, and what’s more is you know it. You’re dating her because she’s pretty and she showed you attention. It’s convenient.”
“I love her.”
“You love the idea of her. One kiss. If it’s horrible, we’ll laugh about it later, and I’ll never bother you again.” She just stands there looking exactly like Kristie. The same pale skin—smooth and soft. The same pretty blue eyes, the same dirty blonde hair. She presses up against me. She’s shorter than me, so it’s her lower belly that presses against my mid-section, but there’s a flicker of knowing light in her eyes, and this has officially gone from weird to wrong. As conflicted as I feel emotionally, logically I already know—
“Jo, I can’t do this.”
There’s disappointment in her eyes, but I think she understands. Unfortunately, it’s at that moment when I start to think that while I’ve demonstrated loyalty to Kristie and saved face with Joanne that I hear the sound of glass shattering on pavement followed by something even worse.
“Joanne?” Kristie shrieks. She’s standing at the top of the steps. The drinks she had carried out are lying in pieces on the sidewalk below, two puddles running in streams toward the grass.
Part IV
Kristie hesitates for only a moment at the top of the stairs before she comes running. She doesn’t look surprised, anxious or even concerned. She looks pissed. Doing what I tend to do be doing a lot of lately, I shove Joanne behind me, thereby placing myself in the middle of exactly what I had tried to stay out of in the first place.
“Nothing happened,” I try, but Kristie will have none of it. Her hand comes out of nowhere and slashes me across my neck with four fingernails that feel like razorblades. I cringe as she goes right around me and pounces on her sister.
I touch my hand against my flaming neck and feel the broken skin beneath the tips of my fingers. Kristie and Joanne are rolling around on the ground and shrieking, and while this scene might be humorous if set to Benny Hill music, now I’m angry too. I jump in, wrap my hands under Kristie’s stomach and pull. The two separate, though they continue to swing and kick. I struggle to control Kristie, but she’s a fireball, screaming at me and her sister. Her arms and legs are flailing like a wriggling fish, but I wrap her up and hold on until she tires. She’s still mad, still crying, but at least she stops fighting.
“Nothing happened,” I say softly. “Nothing.” I can feel her heart thundering in her chest. “We were just talking.”
“Talking,” Kristie says, her voice breaking with sobs. “You were talking.”
“Talking,” I repeat.
Joanne is on her feet, her face covered with tear-streaked dirt. There is real rage boiling in her eyes. “Another two minutes,” she hisses, “and I’d have had him on his back. I’d have been riding him like a rodeo cowgirl.”
“You’re not helping,” I murmur.
“I’ll kill you.”
“I hate you.”
“Enough!” I shout.
“The feeling’s mutual, bitch,” Kristie hisses.
Joanne is in tears. She looks one more time my way before turning her back and storming off. “I’m out of here,” she calls. “For good! For good!”
I want to go after her, but Kristie pulls me back. “Let her go,” she whispers.
Turning to Kristie, my heart is racing. “I swear nothing happened. I swear it. I didn’t do anything.”
“No, you didn’t,” she answers coldly. “But she did.” She wraps her arms around me and holds on desperately. “And I saw it.”
“Nothing happen
ed,” I whisper, so afraid of losing Kristie that I’m relieved she’s holding onto me so tightly. Now she’s crying, and if there’s one sound I can’t stand, it’s the sound of a girl crying. I look after Joanne, but she’s already almost out of sight. She’ll be back. This was just a fight among sisters, but she’ll be back, because they’re family and they love each other. She’ll be back, they’ll make up, and everything will be okay.
Kristie finally starts to settle down, but it’s been ten minutes—maybe longer, and Joanne has disappeared over the hilltop. Payton isn’t all that big, so it’s not that I’m concerned about her safety, but I’ve never seen her that broken up before, and I certainly don’t pretend to understand the ‘logic’ of a female. Everyone has a breaking point, and given how freaked out she was, I wonder if she’s passed hers.
“Let’s go inside,” I say softly. Kristie agrees, though I think she’d agree to pretty much anything. She’s not altogether with it, so I lead her back to the house, up the porch steps and into the living room where we sit on the couch. Just a little while ago, we were all in here, playing a game and having fun. Now the mood has turned sour, and the room feels oddly empty.
“Please don’t do this to me,” she whispers. “Please don’t go.”
“I have to,” I answer. “I mean…everything’s been arranged. I have to go.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You could stay if you wanted to, but maybe you don’t want to.”
“You want to know the truth?” I ask. “I actually don’t want to go. I actually want to stay. I’m scared shitless, and I don’t want to leave you. I want to bail on this whole stupid idea more than I can even put into words. But you know what? I have to do this. I have to do this for us. I’m leaving tonight because this is something I have to try. And as shitty as that might sound, there’s a silver lining, because I will be back, and I’ll be back for you.”
“I hate you,” she whispers.
“You don’t hate me.”
She’s crying again. “Yes I do.” Then, using the soft tips of her fingers, she brushes the cuts she raked across my neck.
Payton Hidden Away Page 24
