Redeem

by Rachel Schurig

  We drive in silence most of the way home, which spares me from having to listen to one of Reed’s famous big brother lectures. On the other hand, it gives me ample time to think about what happened last night—what happened this morning. I would almost take one of Reed’s little speeches.

  I stare out the window while we drive. There’s not a lot of variation in the scenery. It’s basically green, green, and more green. The towering evergreen trees block out the small amount of sun trying to make it’s way through the ever-present clouds. Even the ground is green, covered in moss.

  It’s pretty, in a way. I guess I can kind of see how Daisy and Lennon might like it so much.

  When he finally parks in front of the cabin, Reed speaks for the first time since his comment on my reputation. “Look, man.” He turns slightly in his chair to face me. “I’m sorry, okay? That was…a little much.”

  I nod once, wanting very much to get out of this car.

  “So, did you have a good time last night? This is the least I’ve ever heard you say about one of your conquests.”

  For some reason, that word annoys me this morning. Samantha had hardly felt like a conquest. If anything, she had been the one in the driver seat last night. And definitely this morning.

  “It was…great. She was pretty hot.” They’re words I’ve uttered a hundred times about various girls over the years. They feel completely inadequate right now.

  Reed is looking at me with a weird expression on his face. “Are you all right, dude?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I move to open the door, more than ready for my escape, but he stops me. “What I said before still stands, you know. If you need anything—at all—you can talk to me.”

  “I’m fine, Reed.”

  I climb out of the car before he can say anything else, wanting nothing more than to crash and forget all about the last twenty-four hours.

  ***

  Forgetting about my time with Sam is easier said than done. I spend the entire morning in a funk, unable to sleep, unable to get my mind straight. I attempt to play Halo with Daisy and Daltrey but their little kissy-kissy routine grates on me. Even my guitar doesn’t provide the kind of distraction it usually does. Eventually I grab a beer and head outside, deciding I may as well try the hike that everyone else has been going on and on about.

  I meet Lennon at the foot of the raised deck. “Hey,” he says, propping his foot on the bottom step to tie his laces. “What’s up?”

  “Thought I might take a walk.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Man, she really did a number on you, didn’t she?” I scowl at him but he remains unabashed. “You want company?”

  Part of me wants to tell him to go fuck himself and his little snide comments. On the other hand, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going. Lennon could probably prevent me from getting stranded on a mountain, at least. I nod without speaking and he falls into step next to me.

  We walk for ten minutes into increasingly deepening forest before either of us speak. That was one of the best things about Lennon—unlike my other brothers, he was good at keeping his mouth shut. He was also good at talking shit through, when you were in the mood for that.

  “Did Sam seem…off to you?” I finally ask.

  If he’s surprised by my bringing it up, he doesn’t mention it. “Off how?”

  “Like…I don’t know. Different? Strange?”

  “Besides for being into you, you mean?”

  “You’re fucking hilarious, man.”

  He’s quiet for a minute and I don’t press. Lennon likes to think things through.

  “That whole not paying her tab thing was a little strange.”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “She was clearly really bothered by those guys bringing it up. Did she…did she tell you what was up with that? With the Doug guy?”

  Something about his tone tells me that he knows. Penny must have told him. “Yeah, she told me about Doug.”

  He nods, jumping up over a fallen log. I follow, already sweating despite the chill temperature. Why in the hell do people enjoy this?

  He pauses while I make my slightly more awkward way across the log. “So what happened?”

  I blow out a gust of air. “I have no idea. After those assholes left she seemed really tense, you know? She was like, shaking. But then she flipped it off. It was…weird. She seemed totally into me. I mean, she’s the one that asked me to go back to her place, and she certainly didn’t waste any time getting us out of the bar.”

  “I take it things took their natural course at her place?”

  I’m suddenly assaulted by an image of her laying below me, head tilted back, lips barely parted. God.

  “Yeah. We, uh, hooked up.”

  In spite of the clear floor of the trail, Lennon trips, holding out his hand to grab a tree for support. He looks at me, his eyes wide, before shaking his head and turning back to the path in front of him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Lennon. What the hell was that look for?”

  “I just…look, don’t get pissed, okay? I’ve just never heard you sound like that about a chick before.”

  “Sound like what?”

  “Like…you weren’t bragging.”

  That shut me up. I did enjoy pointing out to my brothers how much more play I got than their lame asses. Under normal circumstances they would have all heard all the details by now. But I didn’t feel like bragging about this. I wasn’t sure what I felt like.

  “Cash.” Lennon’s voiced is carefully casual. “Was it…did you guys have a good time?”

  I stop in the middle of the path, rubbing a hand through my hair. “It was fucking fantastic, man. I don’t…it’s never…Yeah, we had a good time.”

  I glance at him, ready to punch the ever-loving shit out of him if he’s smirking. But he’s watching the trail, his face blank.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  I know this is going to hurt my pride, but I also know that I won’t be able to get it out of my head if I don’t talk about it. “She kicked me out.”

  He snorts loudly before slapping a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. She, uh, kicked you out?”

  I start walking again, not in the mood to have to see his face while we have this conversation. “Yes. She kicked me out. She wasn’t even subtle about it, either. I offered to make her breakfast and she just…blew me off.” I winced. “And when I asked for her number she flat out refused.”

  Len lets out a loud whistle. “Wow, dude. Talk about a hit to the ego.”

  “Yeah, and you better not mention this to anyone else.”

  He makes a scathing noise in the back of his throat. “Do I usually act like a gossipy teenager?”

  I kick at the dirt. He doesn’t, of course. And that’s the only reason I’m telling him any of this.

  “Okay,” he says, his voice growing matter-of-fact. I perk up immediately. This was what I needed—Lennon and his calm, emo-ass wisdom to tell me how to feel about all of this. “So she doesn’t want to see you again. Is that really a big deal? How often do you give a girl more than one night anyhow? This isn’t that different than your norm, right?”

  I know he has a point. I can count on both hands the number of girls that have lasted more than one night. Beyond a few nights, the number grows even smaller. Flings are what I do, what I’ve always preferred.

  So why is this bugging me so much?

  “I think she probably has some issues, man,” Lennon says, and I bristle, even though it wasn’t really an insult. Even though I have no rights to be insulted on Sam’s behalf regardless. “The whole widow from the age of the twenty thing—can’t be easy. Especially in a small town where everyone reminds her of it all the time.”

  I nod. I had deduced as much from her last night.

  “So maybe her shooting you down wasn’t really a dig on you, ya know? Maybe it had nothing to do with you.”

  “I guess so.”

&nbs
p; We walk on for a few more minutes, not speaking. Finally Lennon clears his throat. “The real question, the way I see it at least, is why do you care?”

  “You think it’s weird that I care?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just wondering what your reasons are, specifically. Because it seems to me there are two reasons why this might have you so worked up.”

  “Okay, guru. Impart your wisdom on me. Why would it have me so worked up?”

  “Either your ego is stung, which I would totally understand—I’m not sure any female has ever turned you down for anything, ever. So that’s option one.”

  I thought about that. The truth was, I did feel a little like an ass about the whole thing. Rejection wasn’t something that I knew a whole lot about and, now that I’d experienced it for my self, I realized just how shitty it felt.

  “The other reason is a little more interesting, from where I’m standing.”

  “What’s the other reason?”

  “That you actually really like this girl. It’s not just your ego that’s hurt, it’s your heart. Because you want to see her again.”

  I stop on the trail and Lennon plows into me. “Dude. You can’t just stop like that.”

  I don’t answer, just turn to glare at him. “Let’s get something straight, okay? I am not Reed.”

  His eyes flicker across my face. “True. You’re a few inches too short and a hell of a lot wider around.”

  I ignore him. “I’m not Daltrey, either.”

  “Cash—”

  “What I mean by that, Lennon, is that I’m not some lame-ass wuss who lets myself get all caught up in romantic bullshit. So how ‘bout you shut your mouth about my heart, okay?”

  He holds my gaze before finally shaking his head. Am I imagining the pity I see in his face? “Fine. I won’t ever mention it again.”

  “Good.” I look around, suddenly sick and tired of being out here in the woods. I need a beer—screw that, I need something stronger. And I certainly don’t need to listen to Lennon give me this poetic bullshit about my heart and wanting to see some random girl again.

  “I’m going back to the cabin,” I say, turning and pushing past him. “See you later.”

  He doesn’t answer until I’m well down the trail. Just before I turn a corner, separating me from my brother, I hear his voice. “Later.”

  ***

  I spend the next two days stomping around the cabin, snapping at everyone. I don’t know why I’m so irritated, but I’m more than happy to blame it on Lennon and his little speech in the woods. I can’t, however, blame the constant frustration on him. I feel anxious all the time, like there’s something I want to do but can’t. As someone who is all about the instant gratification, this is an unfamiliar feeling, and it’s driving me crazy.

  To Lennon’s credit, he doesn’t seem to have told anyone else about our talk in the woods. I’m positive that Daisy would be grilling me non-stop about the girl from the bar if she’d heard even a whisper about it. It’s a small favor, my brothers not knowing. It means that I don’t have to deal with their taunting. It also means they have no idea why I’m in such a mood.

  “That sucked,” I mutter, tossing my guitar to floor.

  “Dude,” Reed says, wincing. “Can we maybe not throw the expensive instruments around?”

  I roll my eyes as hard as I can manage. Just like Reed to be such a tight ass about my own damn guitar. Weren’t rock stars supposed to smash their instruments every once in a while?

  “It sucked,” I repeat. “This song sucks. We’re getting nowhere.”

  “Cash,” Daltrey said, his voice appeasing. “It just needs some work.”

  “It needs a hell of a lot more than work,” I snap. “It needs to be scrapped.”

  “We’re not scrapping it yet,” Reed says, his voice more sharp now, nearly matching mine in irritation. “Blake says—”

  I groan, throwing my hands to my face. I honestly don’t think I can stand to hear the words “Blake says” one more time.

  “Everyone chill,” Lennon says, his voice alone calm. “There’s no sense in scrapping it yet—we don’t even have a refrain. Let’s give it a little more time.” His eyes meet mine. “But we can take a break from it now, if it’s bugging you. Work on something else.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. I know I should be grateful for him, for the way he’s trying to chill me out and smooth the tension. But I’m kind of in the mood to start some unnecessary fights.

  “Let’s move on to Running Water. We were making some good progress there.”

  The others agree so I pick up my guitar again, closing my eyes as I play the chords, trying to let the music flow into my brain, into my chest. Wanting it to chase away the frustration and the annoyance that has been plaguing me for days.

  It doesn’t work.

  By the time we’re done with the writing session, I’m pretty sure every one of my brothers wants to kill me. Even Daisy seems half way on her way to murderous. I decide I don’t give a shit—like I’ve never had to deal with their whiney asses. Am I not allowed to have a bad day?

  I walk straight to the kitchen, noticing that my brothers shot off in the complete opposite direction. That’s fine. Let them avoid me—not like I wanted them around, anyhow.

  I find a bottle of Jack in the freezer and open the fridge in search of some Coke, only finding the bullshit diet stuff Daisy drinks. “On the rocks it is,” I mutter to myself, pouring out a measure of the dark amber liquid.

  “Pour me some.”

  I look up to see Lennon leaning in the doorframe to the kitchen, watching me. I grunt in response and pull out another glass, filling it for him and sliding it across the counter. He takes a seat at one of the bar stools and watches as I down half my drink in one go. The fiery liquid is as familiar to me as water and I’m immediately calmed, even if only slightly, by the warmth that spreads down my chest.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you aren’t feeling too much better.”

  I glare at him. “You’re a regular genius, aren't you, Len?”

  “Cash you need to get this girl out of your head. I don’t mean to sound like Reed here, but we do have important work to do here, you know? You need to let it go.”

  “I’m going to see her.”

  “What?”

  “I said that I’m going to go see her. Maybe that’s what it will take to get my head clear, you know?”

  “This is a bad idea.”

  “Why? I thought you would be happy—weren’t you the one going on and on about how you think I want to see her again? So I’m going to see her again.”

  “I’m not going to be happy when it’s obvious you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Having a wounded ego is not a good reason to go chasing after someone.”

  “I have no intention of chasing.”

  “She didn’t want to give you her number, Cash. I think that’s pretty good evidence that she doesn’t want to see you.”

  “I know where she lives.”

  He gapes at me. “So what? You’re just going to show up at her place, uninvited? Great, Cash, really. If you’re going for the creepster vibe, this the right way to do it.”

  I glare at him but he merely shakes his head, his face a picture of bewilderment. “I don’t get it. Why would you want to see her again, after that morning? She rejected you, dude.”

  I don’t know how to explain it to him. How to describe the burning desire in my chest to talk to her. I know if I said that he would go off again about my heart and my feelings for her, and that’s obviously bullshit. This isn’t sentimental. I don’t miss her. I just want to understand.

  I don’t know why her rejection has gotten under my skin the way it has. I don’t know why I can’t just let it go already. I’ve found myself lying in bed at night, wondering if I did something to turn her off so quickly.

  Mos
tly I want to know if she felt the same things I did that night. Was it just sex for her? I’ve spent the entire week trying to convince myself that it was that way for me. Just sex. Particularly good sex, but just sex all the same. Even though my memories of the night betray that theory, I need to know if it’s true. And the only way I can know that is to see her again.

  “I want some answers from her,” I tell him truthfully.

  “God, you’re going to try to seduce her, aren’t you?”

  I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind so I don’t directly answer him. How could I not think about it? You don’t have sex like that and not want to do it again.

  Lennon’s expression clearly says he thinks I’m pathetic. “You’ve never been rejected in your entire life and it’s making you crazy. So you think if you can get this girl in bed again, this time you can be the one that walks away. And then you can rest easy in your knowledge that no woman can resist you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He pushes back from the corner, downing his whiskey. “Whatever, man. Go see her or don’t—it’s your life. But I think it’s crazy. I think it’s one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done—and that’s saying something.”

  “Why? Why is it such a big deal?”

  He leans across the counter so I can’t avoid his stare. “Because I think she’s going to reject you all over again and you’re going to end up feeling even worse.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sam

  By Wednesday I’m finally starting to feel better, more like myself. I’ve been managing to fall asleep without the TV blaring and I’m caught up on my schoolwork. I haven’t even cried since Monday.

  See, Penny? I think to myself as I make lunch on Wednesday afternoon. I can get my shit together.

  I do my best to silence the little voice in the back of my head that asks for how long.

  When Alice calls, I say a little prayer of thanks that my breakdown was short lived. There have been others that far exceeded the bounds of a single weekend. It makes me feel cold to think that I might have still been in that dark place when she called. Because I would have had to say no to her request.