Living Backwards

by Tracy Sweeney

  By the time I reached the end of the path, my fingers were sore from gripping the handle of my bag and my nerves were shot. At least in the open and away from the canopy of trees, the ledge was bathed in moonlight. I’d be able to look out for spiders.

  Glancing up, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the night sky with its scattered stars and constellations. My chest tightened as I located the Northern Cross. Pulling the scratchy, wool blanket from the duffle, I laid it out on the grass. It might not have been the most comfortable place in the world, but it was a hell of a lot better than pouting at home or watching Val and Luke at the bonfire.

  As I began reflecting on the events of the past few weeks, I was reminded of what Suzanne had said to me in the library the day before. “You don’t get a do-over.” What about a do-over for your do-over? Where do you start when you’re allowed to rewrite your history?

  I always thought I was a fairly happy person. I had great friends who loved me and a decent job. It didn’t bother me that I wasn’t in a relationship. Over the years, I had gotten used to being the fifth wheel in our little group. Now, surrounded by teenagers preparing to embark on the greatest adventure of their lives, I found myself feeling sad and wistful. Would I have done it differently? Seventeen-year-old Jillian might be slightly disappointed in how things turned out for her. That Jillian wanted to travel the world and write a novel, learning about new languages and new places. It was what I had meant to do, but I needed a stable job. When the position at the magazine opened up, I knew I had to take it—even if it meant that I was tied to a desk and not touring the globe. I hadn’t ever really given it a lot of thought. Not really what That Jillian had dreamed about on her graduation day.

  And while I had never gotten hung up on the fact that I was nearly thirty and still single, I would be lying if I claimed I didn’t want someone to share my life. Knowing that I could feel the way I did with Luke made me hopeful, but it was bittersweet. I wondered who he belonged to in the future and what she was like. I wondered if he was as happy as he appeared in that photo. I wondered if I spent all my time in vain trying not to alter my life when now I had to live with the knowledge that I loved someone and he was out there somewhere…with someone else. If I were forced to relive my entire life, would I be able to move on? I didn’t have any answers, and dwelling on it wasn’t going to dull the ache in my chest.

  I shot up when I heard a rumbling off in the distance. Pointing the flashlight in the direction of the noise, I squinted, attempting to see if anyone or anything was coming. I suddenly wished I had brought something more formidable with me to fight off the spiders and serial killers. There’d be no quick getaway for me on foot.

  When nothing appeared, I reluctantly focused my attention back on the starry sky until I heard the unmistakable sound of branches snapping. Whatever was in the woods was heading my way and moving fast. My heart raced as I began to curse myself for being so goddamn stupid. I had no way to defend myself except for a few things I learned during the one self-defense class I took with Meg. To be fair, I did not quit this class. We were asked not to come back after Meg broke the instructor’s nose. Nevertheless, I was pretty defenseless.

  Raising the Mag Light over my head, I prepared for whatever was heading my way. Despite any bravado I had somehow mustered, I let out a scream as a figure appeared in the pathway.

  “Damn it, Jillian. Are you out of your mind?” Luke fumed, his eyes wild. I was startled by his hostility as he came striding over to me.

  “You’re up here all by yourself with nothing but a…a flashlight to protect yourself!” he roared, grabbing it from my hand.

  Confused, I ignored his tirade. “Luke, why are you…why aren’t you at the bonfire?”

  This didn’t make sense. I heard him agree to go with Val and now he was here yelling at me about flashlights.

  “Maybe you should be telling me why you weren’t at the bonfire,” he retorted, exasperated and annoyed.

  “How did you know I wasn’t there?”

  “Because I was,” he replied as if it was just common sense. “Danielle told me you were going together.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea why you’d want to go with her,” he quipped, straight-faced.

  “I mean why were you looking for me?” I was shivering and couldn’t stop fidgeting with my hands as I tried to hide that fact that they had started to shake.

  “Because I thought that we could go for a ride or something.”

  He suddenly looked shy and unsure, the complete opposite of the picture of quiet confidence he was yesterday.

  “When your car wasn’t at your house, I figured I’d check a few places. I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come up here all by yourself in the middle of the night.”

  “I saw Val ask you to the bonfire,” I added, ignoring him again, feeling jealous and stupid.

  “Val? Seriously? I can’t believe you thought….Jillian, there’s no way I would go anywhere with Val,” he scoffed. His face softened and he looked uncomfortable again.

  “You told her no?” I couldn’t get past this.

  “I told her I was going,” he explained, “but I wasn’t going there for her.” His eyes smoldered as he looked up at me. “I don’t want her.”

  We had been slowly moving towards each other, but with his admission I froze. I wanted to believe it was me he wanted, but I was very good at hearing what I wanted to hear. As I stood there shaking and staring at this beautiful boy in the moonlight, I wanted so badly to ask him to clarify what he was saying. I needed to hear it.

  “I don’t understand,” I murmured, my heart racing.

  “It’s not her I want.” He seemed to laugh at himself. “There’s this emotionally unavailable, future alcoholic I’ve had my eye on.”

  I wanted so much to tell him that I wasn’t like that anymore. If he only knew how much he’d changed me...without even trying. I’d never be the same and it scared me to death.

  Everything had been so carefully planned from encouraging Megan to pursue Nate to getting him to ask her to the prom, and then keeping Val away from Danielle. Not this. Not Luke. I thought he was kind of crazy and wonderful. He made me feel seventeen again, and I wasn’t sure I ever felt seventeen. At seventeen, I was in a book club with an elderly librarian, for Christ’s sake. I couldn’t trust myself around him anymore. The rational part of my brain was telling me to retreat because I was probably about to do something I might regret, but he was smiling and I couldn’t stop looking at his lips.

  I’m so not leaving.

  “She sounds like a pain in the ass. I didn’t know you had a thing for the crazies,” I replied nervously. Sarcasm was like a second language to me. I couldn’t be straight with him even though I knew he’d see through it.

  “Not crazy,” he insisted. “She’s just been difficult to figure out. That whole emotionally unavailable thing. But I think I understand now.”

  His head was down, but when he looked up—all deep eyes and eyelashes—he was smiling that smile again.

  “You understand?”

  “Yeah. You see, she thinks too goddamn much. So I made a decision,” he announced, moving in closer and running the back of his knuckles up and down my arm.

  “A…decision?” My inability to communicate coherently had apparently kicked in again while his confidence had clearly returned.

  “I’m not going to wait for her to figure out her shit anymore. I’m not letting her avoid this anymore,” he added, staring me down. “Because I know she wants me too.”

  As he leaned toward me, I lifted my head up to meet his gaze. He was challenging me to run again, knowing this time I wouldn’t. I was frozen.

  RIP Jillian’s brain cells.

  “Luke….” I sighed as my eyes shifted down again to his mouth. True to his word, while I was trying to figure out how to respond, he placed his hands on my cheeks, making it impossible for me to look away. Before I could even acknowledge what was happening, his mouth
was on mine, and I was swept away once again by the sensation of his soft, warm lips. The familiar scent of mint along with the faintest hint of his Marlboros washed over me.

  What started out soft and gentle quickly turned desperate and needy. We were pulling and pushing, and I was on autopilot. Jillian’s brain had left the building. It was a familiar feeling—the buzz that pushes you to sing an obnoxious and overplayed karaoke song with your girlfriends, or that gives you the courage to dance with the hot guy sitting at the bar. It’s a happy buzz that makes you feel like you’re invincible and no one can touch you. I’ve spent a lot of time feeling this buzz. Now I stood at the edge of the world, in the eye of the storm, with this beautiful and frightening boy. I was sober, but I felt it. I was pretty sure that I was drunk on Luke, but I knew that didn’t make any sense.

  “I told you I wasn’t waiting for you to figure this out anymore,” he whispered. “I want you, Jillian. No one else.”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I managed to reply, but I didn’t mean it the way he thought I did.

  “Me either.” But he meant something else too. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  Grabbing me by the waist, he pulled me down onto the blanket. I knew I could list a hundred good reasons why I should turn around and leave, but I was always excellent at justifying my questionable decisions. So, in that moment, I decided not to think about consequences and focus on how his hands felt in my hair and how my legs felt wrapped around his torso. In that moment, I was seventeen and I was with Luke. It was exactly where I was supposed to be. I didn’t want to stop that feeling and not thinking felt really good.

  I was sure he didn’t realize how huge this was for me. I wanted to stay here with him. I didn’t want to go back there and be who I was. He made my brain functions cease and my body do strange things.

  Impulsively, I grabbed at the hem of his shirt, yanking it off him and dropping it to the ground. The initial shock on his face gave way to something darker as I rested my palms against his bare skin, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

  “You have no idea how crazy you make me,” he whispered in a low, raspy voice.

  “I think you’re wrong,” I replied, raising my arms and locking them behind his neck. I threaded my fingers through the back of his hair, using the opportunity to pull myself even closer.

  There was no struggle for dominance, no awkward posturing. I let go, giving myself over and allowing Luke to set the pace. His hands were everywhere, grabbing, kneading and feeling so good. I laughed as my discarded shirt was sent sailing off into the darkness.

  A sudden look of uncertainty passed over his face. I knew what he was thinking. Everything was moving so fast and he was worried that I was getting carried away. I was supposed to be a naïve seventeen-year-old who shouldn’t be rolling around in the dark with a boy. But That Jillian wouldn’t have been here with him in the first place. That Jillian would be at home reading Jane Austen and popping microwave popcorn. That Jillian hated Facebook because it reminded her that she never took any chances. That Jillian would definitely be peeing her pants right now.

  “Luke, don’t think so goddamn much,” I said softly, mirroring his words from earlier. And because he still needed the encouragement and because I’d been dying to do it since that first day behind the school, I grabbed his crazy, unruly hair and pulled his lips roughly down to mine. He moaned against my mouth, and it was the sexiest thing I had ever heard in my entire life. I wanted to hear it as many times as I could, and vowed to pull every last beautiful hair out of his head in order to hear it again and again and again. Everything about him set my body on fire. My dad always wanted me to keep a fire extinguisher in the car. I wished I’d listened.

  His left hand began making a continuous circuit from my ankle to my knee, then up my thigh and back down again, rubbing and kneading. I wanted to say “Bring it, Luke”, but I was an impatient, squirming mess. I wanted more.

  Emboldened, I tugged at his zipper and was startled when he suddenly pulled away.

  “Jillian, we should slow down,” he mumbled, panting. I was literally speechless. He was telling me to settle down? Really? Sorry Luke, I don’t feel like behaving tonight.

  I wasn’t expecting him to put up much of a fight. He was an eighteen-year-old boy after all. He wouldn’t need much convincing. Once my hands were back in his groan-inducing hair, my lips by his ear, skin against skin, there wasn’t any question.

  Even though I wasn’t really a teenager, even though I had been down this road before—just differently—nothing felt familiar. I should have taken some comfort in the fact that I was supposed to know what I was doing. I should have felt like I had the upper hand. I should have had a little more control over my body. But I didn’t. I was shaking and quivering like I was about to jump off the ledge into the ocean below. I had never felt so bare, and it had nothing to do with the shirt and pants that had been discarded, lost somewhere in the night. No one had ever made me feel the way Luke did, and what scared me the most was that I was pretty sure no one else ever would.

  So I held on tight to him, to us, and tried not to think of the implications of the decision I had made. I focused instead on the way he felt, the way we moved, the way we were together, so I could commit it all to memory. Because any boy that came before him didn’t matter. And if all of this ended tomorrow and I was sent spiraling back to my old life, no other boy would ever matter again. Just him. Just us.

  It turned out that being with Luke wasn’t like being caught in the eye of the storm at all. He was like a tsunami and I was ready, willing, to be pulled under with him. But I wondered—half-dazed—as I finally let go, now that I was truly here with him, would I ever be able to drag myself back to the shore?

  CHAPTER 14

  Luke

  There weren’t a lot of things that shocked me. If you paid attention, you could anticipate almost anything. It didn’t surprise me that someone invented a pill to help old guys get it up. I wasn’t shocked when Alicia Silverstone turned out to be a terrible Batgirl. And while the whole world was brought to their knees when the President’s intern was caught on hers, I wasn’t exactly blown away. All in all, I saw shit coming. I guess I used to see shit coming. Until now.

  I didn’t see this. Her. Invading my space, my mind, my everything. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I wasn’t the guy who went to bonfires with drunken assholes. At least I hadn’t been. Until now.

  I was there for her. Once I found her, I knew I could convince her to leave. She didn’t like those types of things anymore than I did. And I had a better idea. I wanted her on my bike again. I wanted to feel her wiggle onto the seat and press herself up against my back. I wanted to feel her lips, her hands, her breath. I just wanted. The memory of our ride on Sunday was still fresh in my mind, and I needed more. We needed to finish what we started.

  Leaving my bike in the lot, I made my way through the crowd, trying to avoid talking to anyone. The air smelled of pot, beer and puke—a definite sign of amateur night.

  When I spotted Danielle, I moved a little faster, rushing past the couples mauling each other in the sand. She was sitting on a blanket with Fletcher, drinking some kind of pink wine cooler. I never understood how girls could stand that shit.

  “Well, hello there Luke,” she said, smirking. “Fancy meeting you here at the bonfire. Wouldn’t think that this was your ‘thing’.”

  “Yeah, you didn’t mention you’d be here,” he added, grinning up at me like an idiot. He knew.

  “Unless you’re looking for someone,” she added. “Are you, Luke? Looking for someone?”

  “You’re hysterical. Are you done?”

  “Oooh! So serious,” she replied. “And before you ask, she’s not here yet…which is surprising considering it is getting late.” Danielle furrowed her brow as she checked the time on her watch.

  “She was supposed to meet you here though, right?”

  “Yeah, but she had to help her fol
ks with something. Maybe she got caught up?”

  “You sticking around?” Josh asked, still smiling, still an asshole.

  “Nah. I’m taking off,” I replied, turning to go. “Catch you later.”

  As I headed off past the half-naked girls in the sand and the half-baked kids on the dunes, I heard Danielle’s voice off in the distance.

  “Tell Jillian I said hi, Luke.”

  I pretended I didn’t hear her. I pretended that I wasn’t about to hop on my bike and ride straight over to her house. I pretended I wasn’t insane. I had never even gone to her house before—never met her dad, who incidentally carried a gun. I wanted to see her, but I really didn’t want to make small talk with her dad when I had spent the better part of the night thinking of his only daughter laid out across the seat of my bike. He interrogated people for a living. If Josh and Danielle could see through me, her dad would probably know exactly what I was thinking before I even said a word. Yeah, I was obviously insane.

  Despite coming to the conclusion that I had lost all sense of reason, I flew across town, making it to Jillian’s place in no time. When I rounded the corner onto her street, instead of seeing her crappy car in front of the house, her driveway was empty.

  My frustration peaked because it shouldn’t have been this hard to find her. Reynolds wasn’t a big town. We had more than one traffic light, but less than a dozen. Where the hell was she?

  Frustrated and annoyed, I headed back home. There was no way I would let Danielle and Josh see me back at the bonfire so that wasn’t an option. Clearly, it just wasn’t my night. We’d have to pick up where we left off some other night, but soon. I was sick of playing games.

  As I passed the parking lot near the cliff, I slowed my bike down, noticing a glint of metal through the trees. As I got closer, I saw it. There, in the far corner almost hidden from the main road, was her car. A sudden burst of adrenaline flooded my system. She had to be out of her mind to go traipsing through the woods by herself at night. It was reckless and stupid. Yet why was I surprised?