by Nicky Shanks
“Julie, come down here!” I yell again. There isn’t a sing-song tone to my voice as much as annoyance. I hear her light footsteps skip toward me. She pads down the stairs, her face stained with tears and mascara. I roll my eyes. “God, can’t you get some waterproof makeup or something? I can’t take you in public when you cry all the time and people can see it.”
She wipes her eyes but that makes it worse. “Sorry.”
“We need to talk,” I say and pull her into the living room. I sit her down on the sofa and sit across from her on the coffee table. “I know you saw me with Rachel last night.”
She nods. “I did.”
“And? How do you feel about that?”
I smile at the horror on her face. “You really want to know?”
“Of course I do. Do you think I want you to see that? Do you think I want to hurt you intentionally?”
“No, I guess not.” I relax and I find myself reaching for her. I touch her face and feel sorry for hurting her when I always swear I won’t. Her smile widens as I touch her skin. The fragile little butterfly I caught in high school will always be loyal to me. “I know what I can do to make it up to you…let’s stay in together tonight.”
By the way her face lights up, you would think I offered her the moon. “Really? We haven’t spent a night in together for so long!” She squeaks and jumps up. She sits on my lap, smiling. Her eyes lower and she whispers, “I can try to be better.”
I can’t help but pull her closer to my chest and hold her there; what have I done to her? This isn’t the strong, independent cheerleader I fell in love with. The first time I touched her fingertips, I thought she was it for me. She isn’t the same Julie that would fight with all she has for something she believes in.
I’ve taken that from her.
Her breathing levels and I know she’s comforted by the fact that I’ve reached out to her. I know I can’t repair years of damage with just one squeeze, so I hold on a little longer. I try to be something I know I’m not anymore.
I squeeze her anyway. Tight.
“I don’t want to ever let you go,” I say. “I do love you, you know that, right? I have always loved you and I will always love you.”
“I know,” she says into my shirt.
She doesn’t say it back.
I blink a few tears from my eyes. My hand runs down her back. “Hey, do you remember that bottle of wine we opened when we found out about this apartment?”
“Of course I do.” She bats her eyelashes at me; that hot liquid feeling rises up in my throat, the one that she used to give me when I first laid eyes on her.
“I know we don’t have that, but maybe we can open that bottle of tequila that my boss gave me for Christmas.” I smile and watch her get excited to be getting so much attention from me. That makes me feel powerful and in control.
“You haven’t opened that with Rachel?”
“Of course not, baby, that’s ours.” I can see the shyness of her eyelashes grazing her cheeks. “You go get it and I’ll find a scary movie so we can get drunk and yell at the stupid people who die first.” I swat her ass as she jumps up to do what I ask of her. I don’t click the TV on to find a movie to watch. Instead, I sit in the empty room and cry like a baby.
I’m going to lose her.
I’m going to lose her because I can’t be normal.
I want too much, I take too much.
I’m going to lose her because I am who I am.
She brings the drink back with no glasses. I watch her pop the top off the tequila and drink straight from the bottle. Her nose crinkles a little from the bitter taste but otherwise she swallows it down like a champ. Her small hands shake as she gives the bottle to me. “I was always jealous that you never needed a chaser,” I say and take the bottle from her. Her body sways to a song in her head. She does this a lot—I catch her dancing to her own tune when she thinks she’s alone.
“Come here.” I pull her between my legs. I tip the bottle to her lips and the amber liquid sloshes down her throat. It’s a bigger amount than she drank before, but I want to get her so drunk that she doesn’t remember anything.
I’ve figured out a way to always keep her coming back.
I let her continue to tip the bottle into her mouth as I pretend to drink from it too. She’s almost guzzling it now, her body going limp from how much she’s consuming. I know I have to stop her before she gets sick—or worse.
“Hey!” She pouts and gives me a sloppy, wet kiss on the lips. “You took my bottle.”
I chuckle and put the bottle behind me. “I’m cutting you off; you’re already sloshed.”
“I’m a lightweight.” She giggles and wraps her arms around my neck. The old feelings tumble in the pit of my stomach and I can still see her as the quick-witted, bad ass senior cheerleader she used to be. “I used to be able to drink so much more—remember that bonfire in the West Plains fields that we had after we won State? I got so drunk that we had to sleep in the backseat of your car in the cold.”
I laugh with her and rub my chin. I’m unsure if I want her to bring up all of these old memories; it reminds me of the person I used to be before I completely messed everything up. “I remember. I also remember you trying to steal my car because you were pissed at me for cutting you off, which is what I’m doing now.”
I let her relax into me. She hugs me tight with her chin on my shoulder. I can feel her heartbeat chasing after mine; I get a pain in my chest that warns me to make sure and keep her at arm’s length.
“We should get married.” I look into her eyes for confirmation. She should be just drunk enough to go through with it. Not that I would admit to her my plan…
“I told you that I’m not ready.” Her voice is flat and annoyed. “Give me one good reason.”
“Because I am in love with you.”
I see the corners of her mouth turn up into a drunken smile.
I think she’s actually going to go through with it.
Chapter Twenty
Julie
I freeze.
My feet won’t move, or can’t move, I’m not quite sure.
Oliver waits for me to join him in the rock pool. I can see the question in his eyes. The twinkling embers above us shower the ground with little specks of light; they remind me that I’m not doing a very good job of stalling him.
He wants me.
I can feel it in the very air I am breathing.
“Julie?” Oliver softly calls to me from the pool. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can head back up to the house.” I see the sadness in his eyes as he stands up. He is ready to climb back out to make me comfortable. The water drips from his biceps and down his hard stomach, igniting something inside of me.
“Wait,” I blurt out. “I’m…here I come.”
I slowly take off my clothes, all except undergarments (I thankfully wore a set of matching black lace bra and panties to be spontaneous), and stand in front of his hungry eyes. My thighs rub together as I shuffle my feet toward him. I start dipping my toes into the warm water. The bubbles tickle my toes as he reaches for me to help me in. I take his hand and slide the rest of my body in and relax against him.
Oliver nuzzles into my hair. “Goddamn, I’ve missed you.” He breathes so deep I think he might pass out. “Do you know what you do to me?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “You completely fucking slay me.” I let him run his hands down my sides and squeeze my hips. The warm water around us bubbles and dances around our bodies. I thank God secretly that I shaved my legs a few days ago; they’re still semi-smooth enough that he doesn’t flinch when I wrap my legs around his torso, pressing my body into his. Oliver looks right into my soul, the kind of look that you just know you can’t escape from. It will find you even in the darkest corners of your mind.
“I heard what you said to me,” I blurt out. “What you said to me on the other side of the door at my house.”
Oliver tilts his head to the side and pretends to be confuse
d. The boyish grin spreading across his face taunts me. “You’ll have to be more specific. I say a lot of things to a lot of people, especially to pretty girls like you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I’m not joking and it’s annoying that he’s treating it like a joke now. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He laughs and it makes me angry. “Baby, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Okay. Two can play at this petty little game. “Oh, never mind then. It must have been someone else I’m thinking of, I’m sorry.”
He’s not laughing anymore. “That actually brings me to a question that I have for you.” His rough hands cup my ass and pull me flush against him. “Is there anyone else besides me? No other men fighting for your love that I need to know about?”
“No one else that I know of,” I quickly say and avert my eyes toward the side of the pool. “But if someone shows up, you’ll be the first to know.”
He doesn’t let it go. “There’s no one else for me either; there hasn’t been since I met you. I can’t be with anyone but you.”
“Oliver—”
He holds up his hand. “Julie, please don’t explain. I just wanted you to know.”
I don’t know what has come over me, but I kiss him.
I mean, kiss him like I’m never going to see him again.
I can hear his soft grunts through our breathing. I feel him holding back a little; I nibble on his bottom lip to ease his worry. He thinks that I’m going to run from him and I want him to enjoy this for what it is. He crinkles his forehead in frustration. As he pulls away from me, his brown eyes search for answers.
“What the hell was that?” he says, trying to catch his breath. “That was…surprising.” My index finger finds its way toward his lips; I hold it there to shush him. “Why do you like teasing me so much?” he says and smiles, tugging at the ends of my hair.
I giggle. “Why do you like it so much?”
“I think you mean, why do I love it so much?” He parts my lips with his and kisses me again. He takes what he wants from me in the gentlest way. His tall body nearly swallows me whole. “The answer is really simple, if you really think about it.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And what’s the answer?”
“You drive me fucking crazy, that’s the answer.” There is a hungry growl in his throat as he separates our bodies. The force pushes me to the other side of the rock pool. “We should start heading back to the house soon.” He leaps out of the pool and holds his hand out for me. I sit still at the edge of the pool with a dumb look on my face. I take his hand anyway and let him pull me up but when he does, one of the straps on my bra breaks. Everything—I mean everything—falls out.
Oliver laughs and hands me his shirt, wrapping me inside of it. “You’re lucky I don’t make you walk back naked—please don’t hide your body from me.” He stops in front of me, bending over and looking back with a childish look on his face. “Piggy back ride?”
I jump on his back and he carries me the entire way back down the trail. It’s pretty hard since it’s almost complete darkness all around us except for my flashlight. But he doesn’t let me down until we’re safely in the house and behind closed doors. It’s nearly midnight and I yawn against my will, trying to hide it. He snaps his fingers toward me and points to the staircase. “Go to bed, young lady.” He pats my butt as I walk past him.
I jump and smile at him. “You’re lucky I like you a little bit.”
A snicker escapes his mouth. “Oh, I think you like me more than just a little bit.”
I watch him light the fireplace when we walk into our bedroom. So many good feelings come rushing in from seeing the same furniture and bed sheets as before. I let him cradle my body as we lie in the darkness, waiting for sleep. I can smell the woodsy and rainy scent of his skin; I breathe it in deep because I have missed it. His fingers reach down to my leg, touching the scar where I’d cut myself a few weeks ago.
“It’s healed,” he whispers into my ear and kisses the top of it. “That’s a great battle wound story.”
“Battle wound?” I shriek. “More like surprise attack.”
We laugh together until we fall asleep. I listen to his faint snoring behind me as I stare off into the darkness for a few minutes, trying to clear my head. I know there is absolutely no going back now; I have gone way too far to turn back and leave him cold again. Still, I have this gnawing feeling in my stomach that it isn’t going to last. Something is always going to try to keep us apart. I should just run back home to my brother and let him tell me “I told you so” forty times before hugging me like a child.
He’ll always see me as a child.
***
I get into Randy’s car and don’t say a single word. I buckle my seat belt and he sneaks a peek through his dark-tinted side windows, making sure that Brandon isn’t looking to see where I’m going. I want to laugh because Brandon doesn’t care where I’m going or who I’m going with. Brandon only cares about himself.
“Well…” Randy moves his glasses back up his nose. He looks ahead instead of at me because he knows I don’t want to hear his criticism right now. I mean, I never really want to hear it, but he never cares what I want. I guess it’s because he’s fifteen years older than me and he’s been married before—to Clyde’s mother—but she left after Clyde was born. “I’ll have someone look into his life; maybe I can find something that will scare him enough he’ll just disappear.”
I sigh. “Can we just go to your house? I’d like to sleep.”
Randy scoffs and makes a left-hand turn. “Sleep? Julie, you let men walk all over you. It’s horrifying and completely mad.”
I stare him down. “I know, right? Funny how that happens to me.”
“Oh for God’s sake, I don’t mean me.” Randy shakes his head. We pull into the wealthy suburb of Rockford that he lives in. “You know what I meant. Although, if you ever tell me that this little asshole ever laid a finger on you other than a loving one, we won’t be still talking about this. I will throw him in jail.”
As he drones on, I make it look like I’m interested in what he’s saying. I don’t need him to know what Brandon has actually done to me; I just need him to know that it got bad enough to me to walk away. If he wants the entire truth, he’ll have to wait for the novel and buy it like everyone else.
The mini-mansion he calls home is dark and quiet. It’s February so Clyde won’t be home for another few months. It’ll just be Randy and I—until I decide to go back to my old life with Brandon like an idiot.
“You go ahead inside and I’ll be along shortly. I want to go back to the office and check some things out,” Randy says and pulls into his driveway. “You know the drill: Make yourself at home. You can have the pool house for as long as you want.”
I want to tell him not to bother, that I’ll just be going back to my home in the morning. He’s already sped off and opened the garage for me to enter. It’s eerie inside, so I turn on every light I encounter and make my way toward the kitchen.
I make a sandwich and grab a pint of chocolate chip ice cream, toting it all toward the pool house. Once I hit the backyard, I don’t have enough hands to turn on the outdoor lights. I have to navigate my way in the darkness and I’m proud of myself for making it without making a mess at my feet.
I try turning on the TV and nothing interests me so I turn it back off.
I try reading a few books on the shelves but I have read them all already. This isn’t the first time I’ve slept in this pool house.
I eat the sandwich and half of the pint of ice cream. I start to feel sick to my stomach because I’m too full and stressed out. It’s nearly midnight and I haven’t seen Randy come home yet. I get even sicker when I think about Rachel and Brandon in the bed that I sleep in. Thoughts of their sex sweat getting on my pillow makes something inside me click. It’s not enough for me anymore to daydream about what our life could be…Well, what it could be if he’d just fall back in love w
ith me.
I fall asleep sometime during my fit of anger. I wake up with a splitting headache and nine messages on my phone.
Message one through six are from Brandon.
Brandon: Hey, you can come back now.
Brandon: It’s been over an hour since I told you to come back home, where are you, Jules?
Brandon: It’s after ten, get your ass home!
Brandon: Julie. Get. Home. Now.
Brandon: You better not be dead or I will be so pissed.
Brandon: If you don’t call me in the next ten minutes, you’ll regret it.
Message seven and eight are from Nora.
Nora: Brandon is blowing up my phone looking for you.
Nora: Julie? Are you okay? Where are you?
And message nine from Brandon makes it all come crashing down.
Brandon: You better not be cheating on me.
I stomp across the yard to the main house. I pad through the house and find a set of keys on the counter to Randy’s BMW. I get inside, start it, and sit in silence. It seems like I sit here alone for hours. I want Randy to find me—I want him to come running out and physically remove me from the car. I want him to stop me from driving back to confront Brandon; I’ve gotten a sudden surge of courage. I want to hurt him like he has hurt me.
I drive off instead.
Everyone’s voices swirl in my mind.
Brandon: “You better not be cheating on me.”
Nora: “I told you that he was bad news, Julie.”
Randy: “When are you ever going to learn?”
I feel the car lurch forward, hit something hard, and stop. My head hits the steering wheel so hard that it knocks me out for a few minutes. I don’t come to until I hear people screaming. I can hear myself crying. I try to move my head to look around, but it makes me cry out in pain. An older man steps over to me and says, “Don’t move, honey, we called an ambulance. You were in an accident.”
