Escape In You

by Rachel Schurig

As I jump under the warm spray, I smile grimly. All morning I’ve been looking for a way to stop thinking about the girl from the party. Little did I know that all I needed was a classic blowup with Mom to wipe every trace of excited hopefulness from my mind.

  ***

  I wheel the shopping cart down the produce aisle, in search of bananas. Over the past few years, I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring out what my mom will and won’t eat. Fruit is usually safe, and we always finish it off before it spoils. Cereal is another thing we go through quickly. And granola bars. Basically anything that can be eaten quickly and without much preparation. Neither of us really has the motivation or energy for cooking.

  I grab a few oranges and turn, ready to pick up the milk and be done, when I catch sight of Zoe down the aisle, carefully weighing some apples in that little scale that helps you determine the cost of your produce.

  Because she hasn’t seen me yet, I have the chance to get a good look at her. She must have recently taken a shower, because her red hair is damp and pulled up in a messy bun. She’s dressed in yoga pants and a tank top, and her face is free of makeup, pale under the harsh neon lights. The little blue stud in her nose catches the light as she turns her head, and I’m transfixed for a moment by the sight of her pale arms, delicate and fragile looking, stretching out to drop her apples into a plastic bag.

  She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

  The rush of yearning hits me like a punch to the gut. In that moment I want nothing more than to take her away with me, find some quiet place where I can convince her to tell me every boring, little detail about herself. Where I can run my fingers down her arm and judge for myself if her pale skin is as soft as it looks. Where I can kiss those full lips of hers and then spend the rest of the day trying to tease them up into a smile.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Before I can decide if I want to act on my impulse or run away, she looks up, and her gaze meets mine. The small smile that greets me pleases me far too much for my own good.

  “Taylor?” she asks, cocking her head slightly as if she is trying to decide if it’s really me.

  I grin and push my cart toward her. “Hey, Zoe. How’s it going?”

  “Good. You?” Her eyes narrow little as she studies my face. “You don’t look nearly as hungover as I feel.”

  I laugh. “I went for a jog this morning. That usually helps.”

  She makes a face at me. “I ate a burrito. A slightly different take on hangover relief.”

  She starts to push her cart down the aisle, and I match her pace. She peeks into my cart. “Fruit and cereal, eh? I expected you to be more of a frozen dinner guy.”

  I shrug. “I shop for my mom, too.”

  Her face closes up as she nods. “Me too.”

  She seems sad, and, for some reason, I really don't like the idea of her sad, so I change the subject. “You know, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to find you. I asked your friends about you.”

  I expect her to blush or to stammer in surprise and am kind of disappointed when she nods instead. “I know. I heard.”

  “Well, I feel a lot less smooth now.”

  She bumps her bare shoulder against my arm. “Sorry to spoil your game. So, why were you asking about me?”

  “We didn’t really finish our conversation last night. I thought we could pick it back up sometime.”

  Now she does blush slightly, and I feel a little thrill. Get ahold of yourself, dude. I don't know what it is about this chick that makes me act like a teenaged girl, but I’m not sure I like it. Yet I can't bring myself to walk away. What’s up with that?

  “That sounds good.”

  “Yeah?” I feel inordinately proud of myself that she’s at all interested. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

  That same closed up look covers her features again. “I have to get home, actually. I need to…my mom needs…I just need to go home.”

  She seems really uncomfortable at the mention of her mom, and I wonder what the story is there. I almost wish I could tell her that I totally understand the complicated mother thing, and I never talk about that with anyone. Instead I ask, “What about tonight then? Any plans?”

  We’ve reached the front of the store and she looks over each checkout line as if trying to gauge which is the shortest. “Tonight?” she asks, still closed off, almost distracted now. “I’m not really sure if I’ll be able to get away.”

  She inches towards a line, and I feel a rush of fear, which is totally ridiculous. It isn't like she’s going to disappear. Still, I take her arm and wait for her to look up at me. “Where would you go, do you think? If you can get away?”

  Her face relaxes a little. “Ellie and I hang out at Kennedy Park sometimes. I know partying in the park is kind of high school and lame, but it’s quiet there, and private, and—”

  “That sounds cool,” I say, wanting her to stop stammering. I don’t like the thought that I might be making her uncomfortable. “Maybe I’ll see you there?”

  She gives me a brief smile. “If I can get away.”

  She pulls her arm back a bit and, reluctantly, I let it go. “If you can get away.” She graces me with one small smile before getting in line. I consider following her, but I haven’t gotten the milk yet, and I don't want another conversation about my inadequacies when I get home.

  Instead I watch as Zoe moves through the line, her head down even as the cashier begins ringing her up. A woman with a baby pushes past me, and I realize I’m blocking the way to the registers. Feeling like a stalker, I head off in the direction of the coolers, wishing I knew for sure when I would see her again.

  Chapter Five

  Zoe

  By the time Ellie comes to pick me up, I’m beyond exhausted. It was such a long day with my mother, trying to coax her to shower and to eat. Then Jerry showed up around dinnertime, stinking of beer, and the inevitable screaming match followed. If I was smart, I would have simply called it a night once I got my mom back to sleep and tried to get some rest myself, but I know there’s no way to turn my brain off long enough to make that happen. As is so often the case, a mere few hours of being in that house, of dealing with my mother and Jerry, makes my skin itch and my heart race. I need to get out, to get away. And I sure as hell am going to need some liquid calm if I have any hope of falling asleep.

  “You’re quiet,” Ellie says, leaning into my shoulder so that only I can hear her. We’re sitting in a loose semi-circle with our friends out at Kennedy Park. We’ve been coming here since I first started hanging out with Ellie four years ago. Like I told Taylor, it might seem kind of lame to hang out in a park at our age, but Kennedy has served us well over the years. It’s a massive complex, with a couple playgrounds, baseball diamonds, basketball courts, even a dirt bike course. In the back of the complex is a small nature area, and it is here that we gather in the dark, to sit on fallen logs under the trees and drink or smoke away whatever secret pains we each suffer from. No one else ever comes out here after dark, and we’ve never been caught by the cops.

  “It was a long afternoon,” I say.

  She leans her head against my shoulder, silently signaling to me that it’s okay to want a little contact, that no one is looking. I put my head on top of hers, closing my eyes. We don’t have a touchy-feely relationship, neither of us being the type of girl to give hugs for no reason or bestow effusive kisses on our friends. But sometimes it’s just really nice to have some kind of contact with another person. Ellie always seems to know when I need it.

  “She still sleeping a lot?”

  I nod against her head. Ellie knows all about my mother, one of the only people in the world who does. “I spent most of the day trying to get her to take a shower. You would have thought I was beating her, the way she cried and complained. And that was before I tried to get her to eat.”

  “That sucks, Zoe,” she says simply. I always appreciate the way she doesn’t try to sugar coat the shitty aspects of my life. She
never gives me platitudes, never tries to convince me that it will all be okay. She knows better.

  “When I finally got her to the table, Jerry came home. And of course he had to go off on her about what a mess she was. Because that’s always snapped her out of it in the past.”

  Ellie makes a scathing noise in the back of her throat. “Probably a lot of screaming, huh?”

  I sigh. “From all three of us.”

  We’re both quiet, staring at the lantern Everett had placed in the center of our circle. It’s crazy dark in the woods, and the dim light from the lantern casts strange shadows over the faces of my friends.

  “I’m gonna bring this up again, even though I know you don’t want to hear it,” Ellie eventually says. “You need to get out of there, babe. We could get a place together—you, me, and Hunter. I know you could find a job to pay one third of the rent of a shitty little place.”

  I’m shaking my head before she even finishes. “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Zoe, it’s not good for you being there.”

  “She needs me, El.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not your job to take care of her. You’re the kid, remember? Your mom would hate it if she realized everything you’re putting up with staying there.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s not up to realizing anything at the moment. Which is why she needs me.”

  “Zoe—”

  “Who else is going to do it, El? Jerry?” I laugh bitterly. “He’s either wasted or yelling at her most of the time. He doesn’t get her to take her medicine. He doesn’t get her to eat.” I shudder a little at the thought of what I would find in that house if I stayed away for more than a few hours at a time. “No, I’m stuck there. That’s all there is to it.”

  Stuck. It is a pretty accurate representation of my life at the moment. Stuck. Trapped. Lost. However you want to put it, I’m not getting out anytime soon.

  “I’m not giving up on you, Zoe,” Ellie whispers, her voice soft. “At some point you’re going to have to start taking care of yourself.”

  I don't respond. It’s not like I don't love the idea of getting out, of living with my friends, shedding my responsibilities. But it isn’t going to happen, so what’s the point of thinking about it? I consider myself lucky that I’m even taking classes at the moment. Wishing for more has never gotten me very far.

  “Hey, Zoe,” says Taylor, close to my ear.

  I jump. “Holy shit,” I say, placing a hand over my heart. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry,” he says, and I can just make out his grin in the dim lantern light. “I didn't mean to sneak up on you. It’s pretty fucking dark out here.”

  “True.”

  He watches me closely. “In fact, it’s a wonder I found you at all. You didn’t mention you’d be in the woods when we talked today. It’s almost like you didn’t want me to show up.”

  I duck my head a little. I did leave that information out intentionally. I was scared of the way I responded to him in the grocery store. I very nearly told him about my mom, without even thinking. By the time he left me at the register, I still hadn’t decided if it was a good idea to be hanging out with him, so I’d left the plans vague.

  “I was a little distracted, I guess.” I can practically feel Ellie’s gaze boring into the side of my skull so I tilt my head in her direction. “Taylor, do you know Ellie?”

  “Hey,” he says, that ever-present amused lilt clear in his smooth voice. “I’m Jet. Nice to meet you.”

  Ellie’s gaze darts between the two of us. “Jet, huh? I thought Zoe said it was Taylor.”

  He grins. “That’s her little pet name for me.”

  I try to keep the embarrassment out of my voice. “Uh, huh. Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”

  Ellie keeps looking at me even as she holds out her hand for him. “Well, Jet Taylor, I’m Ellie. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He shakes her hand. “Likewise.”

  “Looks like I’m out of beer,” she says, holding up her empty can. “Either of you need one?”

  I shake my head, and Taylor pulls a flask from his coat pocket. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Ellie pats my knee before jumping up from the log. I watch as she walks over to the cooler to get a beer, then sits with Mary. I realize that she’s not coming back, and my stomach dips. I’m alone with Taylor.

  “So,” he says. “You were about to apologize for not telling me how to find you tonight.”

  My mouth drops open. “How do you know I did it on purpose?” I notice a moment too late that he’s smiling.

  “I was just joking.”

  I give him a tentative smile back, distracted by the way the light from the lantern casts shadows over the sharp lines on his face. He’s so damn good looking. It seems incredible that we’ve lived in the same town our whole lives and never met. He is not the kind of guy I would forget.

  “How did you find us?” I ask. I can’t spend the entire night just staring at him, tempting as that may be.

  He points across the circle to where Everett is sitting with Hunter. “I texted Everett and asked him.”

  “You guys know each other?”

  Taylor nods, and I have a sinking suspicion I know how. “He’s your dealer, isn’t he?”

  Taylor makes a face. “I wouldn't say that. It’s not like I’m some big druggie, Zoe.”

  I raise an eyebrow, and Taylor relents. “Fine, I buy my weed from him. Only very occasionally though.” He pauses. “How’d you know that?”

  “You’re a rich kid from the other side of town. I’ve known Everett long enough to know that there’s a steady stream of kids like you crossing the tracks and making their way to his door.”

  Even in the dim light, I can see Taylor is offended. “Hey, it’s not like that. I consider Everett a friend.”

  I start to laugh but stop when I see that he’s serious.

  “I’m not like all those assholes at the party last night, Zoe. I’m really not.”

  I watch him for a minute. “I’m starting to believe you.”

  That earns me a grin. “You wanna go for a walk? Hunter has been staring at us since I sat down, and it’s starting to creep me out.”

  I glance across the circle and, sure enough, Hunter is watching us. I laugh. “He thinks you’re hot,” I say. “And gossips worse than a girl.”

  “Are we gossip-worthy, Zoe?” he asks, a smile dancing around his mouth. Just like last night, I have the urge to kiss him.

  “We will be if we go off walking in the woods together.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “How ‘bout it?”

  Of course I go with him. Refusing Jet Taylor when he’s looking at me like that is beyond my powers of self-control. He stands, holding out a hand to help me up from my log, and before I know it our fingers are entwined and he’s leading me toward the trail, away from the light.

  We walk hand-in-hand through the darkness of the woods until I can no longer hear my friends laughing in the distance. The trees have thinned out a bit here, and when I look up I can see the moon above us. It lights up Taylor’s face and I’m struck anew by how ridiculously hot this guy is in any light.

  “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” he asks, startling me.

  “What?”

  He stops walking and turns to look at me full in the face. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? I saw the way every guy at that party looked at you. I was sure you’d be taken.”

  “How were guys looking at me?”

  Taylor chuckles. “Come on, Zoe. You’re gorgeous. I know you’re not one of those girls that doesn’t realize when guys are into her.”

  I shrug, feeling uncomfortable. “Guys hit on me. They hit on Ellie more, but I do okay.”

  “So I ask again, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  I’m starting to wish I hadn’t come into the woods with him. I’m not thrilled to be talking about why I don’t date. When it becomes obvious he isn’t going to let it go, I sigh. “I don’t have
time for a boyfriend. And I don’t really see the point.” I look into his eyes. “I’m not a fairytale kind of girl. I fully understand that things usually don’t work out. So I don’t let myself get worked up about that kind of thing. I’d rather just have fun.”

  He’s looking at me strangely, almost as if he’s disappointed. I thought he’d be thrilled by my views on the subject, since everything I’ve heard about him made him sound like quite the womanizer. I don't have a problem with that. I’m basically the female version of the same type.

  “Don’t tell me you’re a big romantic, Taylor. Your reputation precedes you, you know.”

  He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I don’t date much either. Never have. Don’t really see the point in it myself.”

  I nod. “So we’re on the same page. Fun is better.”

  “Fun, huh?” He reaches his hand toward me, and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. I shiver at this near-touch on my neck. “Do you think you might want to have fun with me?”

  I can think of a million fun things I want to do with him, very few of which involve clothing. I swallow. “I think maybe I can handle that.”

  His eyes gleam in the moonlight as he moves his face closer to mine. “What kind of fun did you have in mind?”

  I take a brief moment to question whether this is a good idea. I know Taylor is dangerous, know he has a strange ability to draw out more from me than I planned to share. Looking into his eyes, it’s obvious this could end very, very badly.

  But in the end, I just don’t care.

  I lean forward, closing the remaining inch between us and pressing my lips against his. He lets out a little sigh, almost like he’s relieved. Then his arms come up around me, pulling my body roughly against his.

  I’ve kissed a lot of boys—in fact, I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys. Few activities better offer the distraction I crave. Ellie and I both have a reputation, and it’s pretty well earned. I’ve kissed boys at parties, in the back seat of cars, even in these very woods. But I’ve never kissed a boy like Taylor before.

  His lips are like fire against mine, and he presses against me like he can't get enough. His hands are as tight as a vise on me, but somehow that isn’t tight enough. I wonder if it will ever be tight enough. Without even realizing I’ve moved my hands, my fingers are somehow tangled up in his hair, urging his mouth to remain against mine. Then our lips are parting, his tongue running against mine, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out with the sheer awesomeness of it.