“I am, huh?” she asked. He nodded, his lips grazing her belly button.
Arching her back, Ella guided his hands around to the clasp on her bra. As he unhooked it, she made sure to keep her eyes on his. She was controlling her own destiny. She was Supergirl.
“Prove it to me.”
Of course, Peter didn’t waste any time trying.
As he removed her bra, it started to rain. The freezing drops pattered down on Ella’s breasts, but she didn’t feel cold at all. Ella reached for Peter’s zipper again and he eased her out of her tiny shorts. Before he took his own shorts off, Peter reached into his back pocket for something. Ella recognized the red, square foil packet. It was a condom. This is it, Ella thought, ecstatic and feverish and wanting him more than ever. For the briefest of moments, an image of Kelsi, alone at home, flashed through her mind.
But there was no turning back now.
23
Jamie stood above the remnants of the night’s bonfire, kicking sand onto it to smother the flames. By now, the orange glow had been reduced to a flicker and a few tiny embers. It wasn’t really much of a bonfire at all anymore. It was just a pile of logs. There was no use worrying about it, anyway, since it was going to pour soon.
She stopped kicking and crossed her arms over her chest, staring across the wide expanse of beach at the water. She wondered if Beth and George had made it home all right. She wondered why she’d come back to put the fire out in the first place.
The whites of the waves were clearly visible across the sand. Jamie kept her eyes trained on them, her mind drifting. She couldn’t stop thinking. About what Beth had said. About the Millennium Falcon. About Ethan’s poems. She took a few steps toward the water, her legs moving her forward as her thoughts tumbled out of control.
Beth had said that maybe Ethan hadn’t been worth keeping. Jamie had heard the line before. But that was something she never really considered before. There’d never been any doubt in her mind that Ethan was the type of guy she wanted to be with. The only doubt that kept popping into her head was aimed solely at her own self.
“Wasn’t I worth keeping?” she thought, gazing at the sleeping seagulls who had made their homes on the beach. She walked to the edge of the water and rubbed at the soreness that had been lingering in her throat all night long. She felt like she was going to have another breakdown.
But before that could happen, Jamie began to think about Ethan’s poems and how she’d thought they were so much better than hers for quite some time. But now they just seemed stale and silly to her—like they belonged to someone imperfect, someone as imperfect as Jamie. She thought about the Millennium Falcon and how she’d admired all the work that had gone into it. But she hadn’t ever really appreciated how much work she herself put into everything she did—her stupid dog hats, her silly sketches. She thought about trying to win Ethan back and how she’d screwed it up. Yet, right now, what she’d done seemed almost brave.
Nobody could say she hadn’t tried her best. She’d tried her best at being a girlfriend. Shehad been worth keeping.
Jamie wanted to scream, she was so angry. She wanted to run somewhere, to hit something, to yell at someone. And what she really wanted, more than any of that, was to get in the water.
She peered both ways down the beach to make sure nobody was around. Slowly and nervously, Jamie unhooked both clasps of her overalls and let them drop to her feet. She looked around the beach again, and pulled her underwear down, too, and then tugged her shirt over her head and removed her bra. Covering her chest with her arms, she walked to the edge of the water and waded in.
She took a deep breath in preparation, even though the water wasn’t really that cold. She just had to get used to the idea of swimming naked. Only when the water came up to her shoulders did she relax somewhat. After a few minutes of floating around, she finally felt comfortable. She began to do strokes—farther out, then back, keeping her head above the water.
The ocean cradled Jamie as if she were a child, and she felt beautiful and complete. Putting it off until the last moment, she finally submerged herself all at once. She had never felt this invigorated before.
A few seconds after she came up, it started to rain—first in slow, fat drops, then harder. The sudden shower pattered on her head and the water around her. It sounded like the crinkling of a plastic bag. Jamie let her body float up so that she was lying flat and exposed to the drops, her eyes closed. She drifted slowly away into the darkness.
George had been right. It was the closest thing to heaven.
24
Beth left George in the woods while she ran to get his clothes. They were still in the spot where she’d left them, in the circular glow of one of the streetlamps by the beach. She scooped them up quickly, peering around to make sure the cops hadn’t come this way, and then scurried back toward the brush.
Still covering himself, George took them from her. Beth averted her eyes as he pulled on his boxers.
“Come on, Beth. I know you wanna look,” he joked. “I’m irresistible.” Beth met his eyes, trying to appear amused and instead feeling caught. Water was still dripping from his hair. He was smiling from ear to ear, which meant he could be very happy or very, very drunk.
“We should stay off the roads,” Beth said. They could have gone to the right and gotten home along the deserted portion of beach, but it was shorter to just cut straight across the marsh. George took her wrist and pulled her along into the tall grass and mud. Somehow, Beth thought, holding on to each other like this felt so right.
The stars weren’t so great here, surprisingly. Maybe it was because so many towns close together were giving off too much light. But from the marsh, it was hard to tell that there were any towns nearby at all. The reeds stood almost shoulder height and the way they blocked out all signs of civilization made Beth feel as if she were light-years away from home and anyone who thought they knew her.
“What time do you think it is?” she asked.
“Twelve-ish?”
Their feet made sucking sounds in the mud. Sloosh, sloosh, sloosh, sloosh. George, Beth, George, Beth. They were silent for a long time.
Ahead of them, a group of birds rose up. They seemed to go by in slow motion. Beth thought they were beautiful—just a bunch of bird-shaped shadows. She and George both paused to watch them.
“I knew I should have brought my shotgun,” he said in a Southern accent, then burped.
“The comedy never stops,” Beth said and began walking ahead. That is, until she suddenly felt all wobbly and let out a big yelp.
She tripped and instinctually grabbed onto George for support. He bobbled a bit, but managed to stay rooted, and when she’d finally gotten her balance, they both looked down at her right foot where her sneaker had once been. Now, it was conspicuously bare. Somehow, the sneaker had gotten stuck in the thick mud.
“I guess I should have tied my laces tighter,” Beth said with a snicker. She poked around in the mud a bit. But there was a whole lot of nothing down there.
“Forget it, I’ll just hop the rest of the way,” Beth said with a shrug. “Remember how we won that three-legged race last year at the Memorial Day picnic? I’ve still got the skills.”
“I’m sure you do, champ,” George said as he let her lean her left arm on his shoulder and she started jumping forward with her one bare foot up in the air.Sloosh, sloosh, slurk.
“Yeah, this isn’t working. You’re totally slowing us down, gimpy. Why don’t I just give you a piggyback?” George suggested. He bent down to give her a boost.
“Nah, that’s quite all right.” Wrapping her thighs around George’s body would just be too weird right now.
“C’mon, Bethy. I can handle it. You always think I’m a wimp.”
“Because you are a wimp,” she joked, but he didn’t laugh.
Suddenly, it was a weird moment. George was breathing close to her and he looked very serious. He was probably still mad about the whole clothes-napping incident
. Of course, he had every right to be.
“Okay,” she said, turning him around so that his back faced her. She put her hands on his shoulders and let him know she was on the way up. “You’re not a wimp.”
He crouched as she hopped onto his back, her legs squeezing around his waist. She was keenly aware she was breathing on his neck.
With George’s feet sinking deeper in the mud, they started the trek home.
“Hold on tighter.”
“If you had a butt, I wouldn’t be sliding off.”
“You’re supposed to be an athlete. Use those thigh muscles and hang in there.”
Writhing with embarrassment, Beth let go of George’s neck and slid to the ground, holding her bare foot up gingerly.
“Well, I need something to work with. You know, like meat on your bones?”
George was breathing heavily from the exertion. “What you need is a freight train.”
“Asshole,” she said under her breath, orienting herself. “Hey, where the hell are we?”
“The road’s just up there. See it?”
George pointed to a clearing up ahead, but it felt wrong to Beth. It didn’t seem that the road to home should be there. But it was too dark to see clearly.
Beth started walking, not worrying about her bare foot anymore or what might be under the mud.
George caught up with her, and they both reached the clearing at the same time.
“George!”
The “road” was actually the beach. They could see the string of cottages, but they were across the inlet.
“George! How did you get us across the water from where we’re supposed to be? I mean, how is that possible?”
George just shrugged. He didn’t look worried. Beth wasn’t worried either, really—they weren’t that far away. They must have veered too far east. At low tide, they could have waded across. But now…
“We’re gonna have to swim for it,” George said.
“Swim?”
“Yeah—otherwise we have to walk around that way.” He gestured back toward the way they’d come. “It’ll take forever.”
“Fine. But don’t think that I’m going to get naked.”
George covered his now-clothed lower half with one hand and his chest with another, making a horrified face. “Are you suggesting I want to?”
They waded in slowly, hoping that they wouldn’t step in some hole that they couldn’t see. Then they’d be drenched from head to toe.
“I feel like a castaway,” Beth said. She still didn’t want to let on how much she was loving being out here with him, alone like this.
“I wonder what kind of critters are in here at night,” George mused.
Beth smacked him playfully. “That’s a wonderful thought. Thanks for sharing.”
They were up to their waists now.
“Jellyfish? Horseshoe crabs? Water snakes?”
“George, could you knock it off?”
“Okay, okay. Didn’t know you were such a wuss.”
The water began to part in ripples around them. Somewhere, a heron croaked and flapped, which startled both of them.
They crested the opposite shore within minutes, wet up to their shoulders. Beth’s waterlogged denim shorts dragged as she waded out onto the beach and sank onto the sand. George came out pretending to be a paratrooper, using his elbows and knees to drag himself up.
“That’s a great lobster impersonation, George. Bravo,” Beth said and applauded mockingly.
He came to his knees, raising his arms above his head like a wrestler, and then flopped onto the beach next to her. He rolled onto his back, breathing hard, the back of his head sinking into the sand. Beth did the same.
How many nights had they spent like this—staying out late, lying around, alone together with nothing else to do? Only tonight Beth felt that the tension between them was as tangible as a third person. It took the shape of Cara, splayed out there on the sand seductively, her perfect mermaid hair fanning out in all directions.
Beth felt now was as good a time as any to let her guard down. “I’m sorry, George. About what I said today.”
George was silent for a second. “It’s okay.” He looked over at her, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t like Cara, do you?”
Beth shrugged. “I don’t know her.”
“You think she’s lame, right?”
Beth shrugged. “George, like I said, I don’t know her enough to judge either way.”
“Maybe she’s, you know, too girly for you,” George said matter-of-factly and without the slightest hint of sarcasm. He didn’t mean it to hurt. He was just good ol’ drunk and honest.
“God,” Beth sat up in frustration and wrapped her arms around her knees.
George peered up at her, his arms beneath his head. “What’s the matter?”
She let out a breath, half laughing. “Nothing.”
She felt his hand reach out and touch her shoulder. “Seriously, Beth. Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m a girl,” Beth said.
This got his attention. He sat up now. “I know that. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.” He had a straightforward way of looking at her that made her feel guilty. She wasn’t being truthful with him, and it was getting harder and harder to keep her mouth shut.
“I feel kind of like you’re going to forget about me,” she finally whispered.
George tilted his head to the side. Beth couldn’t tell if he was wincing or concentrating. His eyes had gotten wide under his long lashes. Then the look simply disappeared, and the wall between them dropped. Suddenly, George assumed his usual goofy expression.
He squinted and then whispered, “Are you jealous?”
Beth shook her head, half laughing again. “No.” Thank God it was dark. Thank God, thank God, thank God. Her face was on fire.
“Beth.”
She shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“I think you are,” he said.
Beth slapped him on the arm. “No, I’m not. Shut up.”
“Oh?” He flipped over onto all fours, at her side. It was a game now to him. “Beth’s jealous? Rrrrrrrrrr.” He grabbed her hard around the shoulders and rubbed the top of her head. He hugged her so hard that she went down again onto her back.
“You are so cute,” he said, looking down at her affectionately. “I could never forget about you, Bethy.”
“Oh God.” She clamped her hand over her eyes, secretly relieved. “You try to have a serious talk with someone…”
She felt her hands being tugged away from her face. “No really, I’m touched. Maybe we should have a special handshake, so you know I’ll never abandon you.” He took her hand and rubbed the palm. Beth sat up and yanked it away.
“I really care about you,” George said. “Do you know that?”
“Please…” She started to stand up, annoyed at the thrill that rose in her chest when she heard him compliment her, even in his own stupid, joking way. She was just brushing the sand off her legs when he pulled her back down by her hand, and made a line across her palm with his nail.
“We can cut ourselves right here. No backing out this time, okay?” Beth loved the way he traced the line in her hand.
“You really should have slowed down on the Bud,” she said. But still, she didn’t move.
“Maybe.” He looked at her steadily now.
“Well, we should…” She looked over her shoulder toward home.
“Beth.” He had the wide-eyed look again, unguarded. He still had his fingers wrapped in hers. He breathed in loud, once. “Beth. Look at me. Don’t be jealous.”
Beth was like a person staring at a car accident. She couldn’t look away.
He moved toward her and put his lips on hers, lightly. He moved his hands behind her head and held her there. Beth stayed perfectly still. She was convinced that if she moved, everything would disappear. She surrendered herself to the moment and opened her mouth to accept his kiss. She felt his tongue push against hers. Was thi
s really happening?
It was crazy and surreal and absolutely wonderful. He tasted faintly like beer, but Beth felt like she couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted to kiss him like this forever. George’s fingers were tangled in her hair but then he moved his hands so he could cup her face, gently. He pulled back for a brief instant and studied her intently, as if he wanted to memorize her.
“Beth,” he whispered. She could see her reflection in his eyes.
“George,” she whispered back. It was the only thing, really, that she could say. It was like they were seeing each other for the first time.
Then they didn’t need words anymore. He kissed her again, deeply, and he shifted so that she was on her back, and he was covering her. As Beth reached up to touch the back of his neck, her hand got jammed in his armpit, and for an instant she expected him to start laughing, as if the whole thing had been a joke. But George only brushed her hand away, and began sliding his own hands along her arms, then down to her stomach and hips and along her thighs, his mouth on hers the whole time. She pressed up against him to let him know she liked what he was doing. His breaths came quick now. He rolled her T-shirt up over her belly, and then Beth felt his hands on her breasts. This is George, she thought.
Suddenly, her skin felt like it was being tickled with a million feathers. And then she realized shewas being tickled with rain.
George shoved himself back at the same time she noticed it. His face was flushed and his hair was pushed back at a messy angle. His eyes were beautiful. He and Beth stared at each other, still breathing hard. He looked up at the sky and gazed at it for a moment, like it was the first time in his life he’d seen rain. Then he focused back on Beth.
“Wow, sorry,” he said, catching his breath.
Beth shook her head. “It’s okay.” She cleared her throat and smoothed back her hair. “You’ve had a lot to drink.” She tried to think of some kind of joke to lighten things up, but none would come.
She rubbed at her lips, remembering the feel of his, and they both rose from the ground. Beth could feel blood rushing through her ears, her eyelids, and her fingers. She had been waiting for this for so long, and now it had happened. It was over so soon.
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