Some Kind of Normal

by Juliana Stone

  I need him.

  “I need you,” she said firmly.

  “You need your husband,” I shot back, and if I could have taken the words back, I would have because she looked small. Defeated. And I knew I had done that. “I can’t fix this for you, Mom. I just can’t, and it’s not fair of you to expect me to.”

  Her bottom lip trembled, and she leaned back against the sink. “Everly, I don’t know how long I’ll be. Isaac will be at Bible camp for two weeks and then we’ll be at my brother’s place. Right now, our plans are indefinite.”

  “You’re just going to run away?”

  She didn’t have an answer for that one, so I pressed on.

  “Are you getting a divorce?”

  Wow. Imagine the scandal. Pastor Jenkins cheats on wife and drives her out of town. His flock would diminish overnight.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, I don’t know. I love your father, you know…” She shrugged and tried to smile through her tears. “Even if we don’t end up together, I’ll always love him. I just hope that he can find his way back to me. I hope he can forgive himself for his sins and find a way to fight for us.” She blew out a long breath. “That’s why I need you to hang on a little longer, and please keep this to yourself. It’s not as cut-and-dried as you think. If word gets out, he’ll be destroyed. We’ll go on and survive, but your father won’t. He won’t come back from this.”

  Holy. Cow. I so didn’t understand adults, but then again, I guess I wasn’t supposed to.

  “I’d better say good-bye to Isaac.”

  She tossed the rag into the sink. “I told your father you’d be coming with me.”

  Huh. So that’s why he’d lingered in the kitchen this morning. He’d been trying to say good-bye without saying good-bye.

  “I’ll send him a text later. Give him the heads-up.”

  For a moment I thought Mom was going to force the issue. Her lips thinned, and if she kept frowning like that, she was going to have perma lines between her eyes.

  “You’re sure?” she asked.

  “I am.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave some cash for groceries, and there’s always your dad’s debit card.” She worried her bottom lip and attempted a smile. “It will be good for you and your father to spend some time together.”

  I snorted.

  Her frown deepened. “He’s your father, Everly. When all is said and done, there is still that, and he deserves your respect.”

  I wanted to shout at her. To scream and tear out my hair. I wanted to tell her that respect is earned. That just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you get to break the rules and get away with it. That being a liar and a cheat isn’t something to look up to.

  I got what she was saying. But love and respect are two different things. I would always love my dad, but right now, the respect thing was more than a little iffy. It was pretty much nonexistent.

  “Okay.” She pushed away from the counter. “I think it will be good for you and him to have some alone time.”

  “Sure.”

  Not a chance in hell, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I had plans for the weekend, but they sure as heck didn’t involve my dad. In fact, I was contemplating doing something so out of character that I was surprised Mom didn’t see it plastered all over my face.

  I let her hug me. Kiss the top of my head. I said my good-byes to Isaac, who looked confused as ever, the poor kid.

  “You’re not coming?” he sniffed into my neck.

  “Buddy, I’m too old for Bible camp.”

  “I don’t mean camp.”

  I knew what he meant. When had Mom ever gone away without all of us?

  “Not this time.”

  “Dad’s not either,” he whispered.

  I hugged him. Hard. “I know, but you’ll have a blast at camp, and just think of all the fun you’ll have with your cousins.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “They’re all girls.”

  “I know.” I gave him one more kiss. “You won’t have time to miss me, and I’ll see you before you know it, okay?”

  I watched them load bags into her car, and after one last hug, they drove down the street and disappeared from sight.

  And then I dug out my cell, scrolled past my dad’s name, and called Trevor. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hey,” he said, all husky scruff that told me he’d just rolled out of bed.

  “It’s Friday,” I replied.

  A pause.

  “Yeah. I think you’re right about that.”

  I smiled at the teasing note in his voice.

  “Friday, July 3.”

  “Huh. You’re two for two.”

  “So are you taking me to Link’s cottage for the long weekend or what?” Holy cow. What was wrong with my mouth? Run on much?

  A pause. A long, painful pause as my cheeks flooded with heat. I sank down to my knees and pulled a pillow off the sofa to cushion the fall. Oh God. What had I just done?

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop my heart from beating, because it was making me dizzy. Or maybe it was just the stupid that was making me dizzy. The stupid that ran through my veins. I wasn’t good at this whole seduction thing. If that was even a thing.

  “Are you offering to be my roomie?”

  “Maybe.” I barely got that out. “I mean, I suppose I could be persuaded.” That was an epic line. Epic. Gonna have to remember it for future use. Not.

  “Are you flirting with me, Everly Jenkins?” he asked so softly I had to strain to hear him.

  “The fact that you have to ask reiterates my lame attempt, but yes.”

  “Good to know.”

  Another pause.

  “Everly?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s working.”

  “The flirting?”

  “The flirting,” he replied.

  I exhaled. “So that means…”

  “It means that we blow off study session. It means that Link will scoop up his girl, and he and I will be there to pick you up at noon. Are you sure about this?”

  I was off the floor and already heading up to my room, so yeah, I was pretty sure.

  “There are only two bedrooms up there, and Brent has already claimed the sofa.”

  This was obviously his way of warning me that we’d be sharing a room, which was sweet. But I was kind of done being sweet. I wanted something more.

  I thought of my father. Of how he was living a lie. Pretending to be happy when all he was doing was destroying what little bit of happiness his family had. What was the point in living like that? What was wrong with being true to yourself and being honest?

  I wanted Trevor. That was my truth. That was my honesty. I wasn’t exactly sure how far I was willing to go, but I trusted him enough to know I’d be safe. He was the one who’d pulled back at the old mill, not me.

  “That’s okay,” I said when I reached the top of the stairs. “You can sleep on the floor.”

  He laughed, and I felt a bit of the heaviness in me lift. “Now you’re being cruel.”

  “See? I suck at flirting.”

  “Actually you don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Suck.”

  “At flirting?” God, Everly. Just. Stop. Talking.

  “Yeah.” I could picture the grin on his face. “At flirting.”

  Good to know.

  I went in search of luggage and tried to ignore the little voice in the back of my head. The one that kept asking me if I knew what I was doing, because I was pretty sure that Trevor Lewis didn’t go away for the weekend with a girl and not expect a few things to happen.

  Namely sex.

  I knew Hales and Link had already done it. They’d barely waited a week after the drive-in, but then Hailey had ne
ver been the kind of girl to wait for something that she wanted. I kind of admired her for that.

  Besides, no guy ever was going to turn down sex. They’re not wired that way. So where did that leave me? Where did that leave Trevor? I wasn’t even sure what we were exactly. Was he my boyfriend? Did he think of me as his girlfriend? Could we spend the weekend together and not do anything? Like anything naked?

  I reached into my closet for my weekender bag.

  Guess I was going to find out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Trevor

  Link’s cottage was on the Tickfaw River, not far from Baton Rouge. When we were younger, we’d hang on the dock, go fishing, eat as much junk food as we could stuff down our throats, and stay up late watching cheesy horror movies. One year, Link scared the crap out of us when he jumped on our bed, yelling at the top of his lungs and wearing a white goalie mask. You know, of the Jason variety. Funny now, but not so much back then, because Brent crapped his pants. Like literally.

  I’d been coming here since I was a kid, tagging along with Link and his parents, but over the last couple of years, a few things had changed, namely the lack of parents. Now we come up on our own, and as long as we don’t get stupid and trash the place, Link’s dad is okay with us using it.

  Man, that first time, we’d felt like kings. On our own with no adults to tell us what to do. I’d only been fifteen but had told my folks we were going with Link’s dad. A total lie, and I eventually got caught, but Brent (who was the oldest and had a license) drove us up. We were serious musicians, and it was just guys, and we were gonna write hit songs and get drunk and eat as much crap as we could. We weren’t going to worry about girls and the drama they brought with them. Except, you know, girls do add a certain flavor, and after the second night, we knew we were missing something. Girls and guitars just seemed to go together.

  I glanced up at the place as Link pulled his truck in behind Brent’s car. We’d had some pretty intense parties up here, a lot of good times, and it felt good to be back, even if some of the gang was missing.

  Everly had fallen asleep on the ride up, and she was curled into my side. She was soft and warm, and I could have stayed holed up with her in the back of Link’s truck all afternoon. Pretty hard not to think along those lines, because she was so damn sweet with her long lashes touching the tops of her cheeks, and she was going to hate this, but the girl snored softly. It was kind of adorable, although I had no plans to tell her.

  I couldn’t help myself. I let my finger trace the contours of her top lip and then slipped my hand into her hair so that I could kiss her.

  There’s something to be said about how amazing it feels to wake up a girl with your mouth. Especially when she tastes as sweet as Everly Jenkins.

  She moved against me, turning slightly, and I thought I should pull back. Hell, we were in the back of Link’s truck, and Brent stood a few feet away, leaning against his car. But she was so soft and warm and…

  I deepened the kiss, wanting more, needing to feel her wanting the same thing. Her eyes flew open, and she stilled, her hands already buried in the hair at the back of my head.

  “Hey,” I said, voice a little rough, because man, there were zings and zongs going off in my body. Things had heated up pretty fast.

  “Sorry,” she breathed. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “It’s all right. You can sleep on me anytime.” Her eyes slid away, and her cheeks got all rosy. It took everything I had not to kiss her again. Like I said. Adorable.

  “We should go help get our gear in,” I said.

  She never looked away. Her eyes were dark, like liquid navy, and I thought they were the most amazing eyes ever. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

  I waited for a few moments and then cleared my throat. “You might have to move a little.” The girl was snug between my legs, and I was hoping she was gonna move to the right, because if she moved to the left, well, let’s just say I wasn’t prepared for that.

  “Oh.” She glanced down and then her eyes shot back to mine. “Oh. I’m sorry. I…”

  I had to laugh. “Everly, don’t worry about it. It’s my deal, not yours.” I bent forward and kissed her nose. “You can’t help it if the sight of you makes me crazy.”

  “Does it?” There was that soft, slow smile that I dug.

  “Do you want me to show you right here?”

  She glanced out the window. “Um….no!”

  We both rolled out of the truck and followed Hailey, Link, and Brent up the stairs with our bags. The guys went back a few more times for the coolers that were stuffed with food, beer, and—

  “Who the hell packed two club packs of Popsicles?” I eyed Brent, but he shrugged.

  “Not me.”

  “I did,” Hailey said, grabbing them from me and heading to the kitchen with them. “They’re, like, my Kryptonite.”

  I made a weird face, and Everly tried like hell not to laugh.

  “So, they’ll kill you?” I asked, following her into the kitchen. She was stuffing them into the freezer.

  “Huh?”

  “Kryptonite. It was the one thing that made Superman weak.”

  She grabbed a cherry Popsicle but didn’t bother to offer me one. “Superman?” she asked, tearing off the wrapper. “What does Superman have to do with me?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but Link was already there, biting off a huge piece of her Popsicle. “Mmm,” he said, moving in for a kiss. “Cherry is my new favorite flavor.”

  He pushed her back against the kitchen cabinets, and the two of them started to make out like porn stars. Time for me to leave. I glanced at Everly, but she was already moving back toward the family room that overlooked the river.

  “Our bedroom is this way.” I grabbed her bag and she followed me down the hall. The cottage wasn’t big, but the bedrooms were a good size. Link was taking his parents’ room, which overlooked the water and had an exit to the hot tub. The guest room had a view of the shed and not much else, because it was tiny. I was okay with that because the bed was a huge king-sized monstrosity that took up most of the space, and we had our own private bathroom.

  Win.

  “Wow,” Everly said softly, eyes on the red and white plaid blanket. “It’s…big.”

  I tossed my bag. “And squeaky. The springs are shot.”

  “What?”

  I tried to keep a straight face but lost it when she took a step toward me. “Kidding,” I said, hands up in surrender.

  “That’s not funny.” She tried to punch me in the shoulder, but I ducked and grabbed her around the waist.

  We both fell onto the bed. Again, win.

  And she ended up on top of me. Double win.

  I was laughing, and she was trying not to laugh. And my hands were on her hips and then she was leaning over me, her hair tickling my nose. She was bare legs, exposed stomach, and summer sweet smell.

  God, she felt great.

  Our laughter slowly died and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I exhaled and tried to get my head screwed on straight, but it was damn hard. The air was different. It was thick and heavy, with a need that I didn’t think we were ready for. At least, not yet.

  I tucked that piece of hair that teased me behind her ear, shifted a bit because, well, she was on top of me, and cracked a smile.

  “See? No squeaks.”

  I sat up, Everly still straddling me, and wrapped my arms around her. What was it about this girl that had me all fuzzy and warm, acting like a damn teddy bear?

  “I should unpack,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly, pressing one last kiss on a mouth that was pretty much perfect. Her breath hitched, and that did all sorts of crazy stuff to me. More than a little unsteady (when had a girl ever made me this freaking crazy?), I pulled away.

  “We’ve got all weekend.”
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  Chapter Twenty

  Everly

  The summer I turned eight, I went through a phase of jumping into situations without thinking. Like literally. One afternoon in particular, my parents took Hailey and me to a park on the river. There were waterslides and sprinklers and a wave pool. But as soon as we got there and with no hesitation, because I’d been planning my move since I found out we were going, I ran for the river, ignoring my mother’s screams, and I dove in. With my shoes and everything.

  At the time I was convinced that I was a mermaid, and everyone knew mermaids didn’t die in the water. Apparently everyone except my mom. She practically had a heart attack, waded in (yes, in her shoes), and hauled me out of the river. She caused a scene and didn’t seem to care that everyone and their mother was watching. Which totally isn’t my mother, but that’s how mad she was.

  And I wasn’t allowed to play on the waterslides as my punishment for not listening and, as she said, “pulling a stunt like that.”

  She didn’t get that it wasn’t a stunt. I begged. I pleaded. I cried. I told her I was a mermaid. She threw her hands up in the air and told my father I wasn’t allowed to watch Saturday cartoons anymore. I had to spend the entire afternoon watching Hailey make new friends as she went up and down the waterslides. I was mad and resentful and thought that my mom was the meanest lady on the planet.

  Of course, my teenage self knew that she was only trying to protect me from getting hurt. That she’d been scared, and I know that it had been a reckless thing to do. And sure I could argue that most eight-year-old kids would have done the same thing, except I was pretty sure that they wouldn’t.

  That summer, I’d been hit with “the crazy stick,” as my father called it. I was a little adrenaline junkie who jumped in with no thought of the consequence, because that feeling, the one that hits just before you’re about to do something out of this world, that feeling was worth the punishment.

  That feeling meant that I was alive. Really alive. Not all that smart, just alive.

  It took some doing, but after endless chats and groundings and threats of how sinning wasn’t a great way to stay on God’s good side (because not listening to your parents was a sin), I eventually calmed down. Or maybe I just got older and outgrew the crazy stick stage. Who knows?