The Society

by Jodie Andrefski

  “Thanks, Jer,” I whispered.

  He smiled, and brushed my hair back as it blew into my face. “Anytime.”

  We stood that way, inches from each other, for several seconds. A look crossed his face, one filled with what I could only describe as yearning. It made me wonder if Jeremy and I could ever have more than friendship—or if that would mess things up between us.

  I glanced down again.

  “Come on.” He took my hand and we fell into step, side by side once again. We didn’t talk, but the comfortable silence wrapped around us like a favorite blanket.

  The fall colors littering the path reminded me that Thanksgiving would be here in less than a week. I had a lot to be grateful for—Aunt Lor, Patrick being okay, things not going down even worse than they had with the mess I’d created. But I was most thankful that I had my best friend back and knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Thirty-Four

  Sometimes love can descend, gentle as a first snowflake. Or it can build and build like a mighty blizzard.

  —Samantha Evans

  Jeremy’s prediction was wrong.

  The snow held out until the following week, and we didn’t get flurries, we got eleven inches. It started Thanksgiving Day and carried into Friday morning. I peeked out my bedroom window. Snow covered everything in a blanket of pristine white. Nature in its purest form…beautiful. I hurried into my clothes and headed to the living room to find my aunt.

  “Did you see it?” I plopped down on the sofa and bounced up and down.

  “Rather hard to miss, sweetie.” She sipped her coffee.

  “I’ll go out and shovel the walkway,” I said.

  “Just be sure you dress warmly.”

  “I will.” I leaned over and stole a piece of toast from her plate, biting into it as I stood.

  “And wear gloves!” she called out, as I walked to the closet to grab my winter boots.

  “I know,” I yelled back, and shook my head. You’d think by now she’d realize I could dress myself without direction. I shoved the rest of the toast in my mouth to free my hands and rooted through the back of the hall closet trying to find my boots. And she said my room was a mess; this closet beat it hands-down for clutter. I finally found them and pulled the second Timberland onto my foot just as a knock sounded on the front door.

  I paused mid-tug. I hadn’t heard a car. Probably Martha. I finally got both boots on and finished tying the laces before reaching in the cardboard box where we stored gloves and hats.

  “Samantha! Jeremy’s here!”

  My head jerked up in surprise. I grabbed the first hat I came across, some old green and white thing with frog eyes, along with a pair of blue ski gloves.

  “Samantha?”

  “Coming!” I yelled. I stuffed my arms through the sleeves of my coat and shoved the hat over my messy hair. Crap. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet, let alone put any makeup on to try to cover my zombie look.

  I raced to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth, I grabbed mascara and brushed a little on my lashes, praying it would help make up for the fact that I had bags under my eyes the size of small moon craters. The past month or so I’d been lucky to get four or five hours of sleep a night. I blew the bangs off my forehead in exasperation. Oh well, good enough. He’d seen me looking worse.

  Jeremy stood in the kitchen with my aunt, his hands wrapped around a cup of steaming coffee. His cheeks radiated bright red, and fog tinted his glasses as a result of coming into the warm kitchen from the cold. They both turned when I walked into the room.

  “Hey! What are you doing here?”

  He leaned against the counter and took a sip before answering. His windblown bangs spilled into his eyes from beneath his beanie.

  “I figured you guys would need some help shoveling out your aunt’s car.”

  My eyebrows rose, and I glanced out the window. His black Acura was nowhere in sight, and no tire tracks cut through the thick snow, only footprints.

  “How in the world did you get here?”

  Aunt Lor rubbed his arm. “He walked all this way just to help us. Wasn’t that nice of him?” Her face shone pride wreathed in smiles over his generosity.

  I gaped. “You walked? In this?” I stared out the window again. It didn’t even look like the township had plowed the roads yet. Plus, flurries had begun to come down again since I’d woken up.

  Jeremy set down his cup and reached out to grab his gloves to pull them back on. “Nah, not the whole way.” He clearly wanted to downplay his role as the hiking hero. “The roads are better in town. I drove most of the way, but kind of got stuck once I hit Sauderton Road. They haven’t gotten there yet, I guess.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I know.” He turned to my aunt. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “You’re welcome. And I have muffins in the oven for when the two of you finish out there.”

  “Sounds good.” He walked to the sink to rinse out his cup, and turned back to me. “So you ready to do some digging?”

  “Sure.” I pulled on my gloves then paused. “Oh, wait! I don’t think we have an extra shovel.” I waggled my eyebrows. “So does that mean I get to watch while you do all the work?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Nice try. I brought my own.”

  “You carried your own shovel here? Through the snow?”

  “Well, I thought it would make more sense in the snow than waiting to bring it in the spring.” He smirked.

  I swatted him on the arm. “Smart-ass.”

  His eyes crinkled with his chuckle. God, he had a great smile. It’d been a while since I’d allowed myself to appreciate it; my mind had been way too busy with tiny things like my impending sentencing. We headed out, and I gasped when the frigid air hit me full force.

  “I still can’t believe you walked in this.” I stuttered, my teeth chattering and my breath coming out in white puffs in the early morning air.

  “Aw…don’t be such a baby. It’s not that cold.”

  “For a polar bear maybe.” But I grinned back at him.

  I walked to the end of the lot where Aunt Lor kept a giant outdoor storage container. My gloves made it impossible to open the latch, so I pulled one off with my teeth and pried the lid open far enough to grab the snow shovel from inside. As soon as it was out, I slammed it closed and pushed my fingers back in the welcome warmth of the heavy glove.

  Jeremy had already begun working, digging through banks of snow behind the Buick. The morning light brought out golden highlights in his mahogany hair. He looked strong. And gorgeous. I couldn’t believe it’d taken me so long to really notice.

  I smiled as he ferociously attacked the piles of snow, clearly on a mission.

  He turned and caught me watching. “You going to just stand there?” He reached down and grabbed a handful of snow and patted it into a ball.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  Thwack. It pegged me straight in the belly. That was all it took. I dove behind the storage container and prepped an arsenal. Every couple of seconds a snowball flew over to land nearby. It felt good—to be normal, not chained down by thoughts of what I’d done, or what might happen. I packed another snowball together.

  “Chicken! Come out and fight!” he yelled.

  I popped my head up and whipped two in a row in his direction. They both missed.

  “You throw like a girl!”

  “I’ll show you throwing like a girl!” I shouted back.

  I lobbed another one his way, finally managing to make contact.

  “Lucky shot!”

  He ran toward me, arms filled with snowballs, yelling a guttural battle cry as he approached. “Aaaaahhh!”

  Oh crap. I looked for an escape route. Too late, I attempted to make a break around the side of the trailer. I wasn’t quick enough. He pummeled me, one after the other. Laughing, I covered my head with my hands and tried to run the best I could, hunched over. Just when I thought I had a
chance, he leapt toward me and tackled me into the soft snow. His upper body pinned me down.

  “Say mercy.”

  I whipped my head side to side.

  “Say mercy,” he repeated in a warning tone.

  “Never!” Snow crept up the back of my coat, which had inched up when he’d flipped me over. It was freezing cold against my skin. I desperately tried to grab handfuls of snow to shove in his face, but he blocked me.

  His triumphant face hovered inches away, and he grinned. A hint of coffee carried my way as he leaned down even closer. I was suddenly glad I’d taken the time to brush my teeth.

  “Do you give up yet?”

  My heartbeat double-timed as his weight pressed down on me, his chest right against my own; our legs tangled together.

  I licked my lips and stared at him, and could tell the exact second his attention shifted from our snowball battle to something else, something way more intimate. His eyes darkened, and he swallowed. He stilled, until finally, with aching slowness, his hands moved from where they’d been holding my arms out on either side of me, and traveled up to rest on my shoulders. Our eyes never broke contact.

  “Hey,” he whispered, the tiniest of smiles peeking through.

  “Hey,” I whispered back. My mouth felt incredibly dry, and I couldn’t imagine how he couldn’t feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

  His familiar eyes traced the contours of my face while I lay immobile, not wanting to move one inch beneath him.

  I love him.

  It hit like an avalanche. I loved him. I loved Jeremy. The realization freaked me out while at the same time filled me with an utter sense of…rightness. Something in my expression must have changed, because his smile softened, grew even tenderer, and he used his teeth to pull off his gloves, one at a time.

  My eyes widened. “What are you doing? Your hands will freeze,” I stuttered.

  “I don’t care.” He tossed them aside.

  I shifted my gaze, unable to face him.

  “Look at me,” he said softly, reaching out to turn my face back toward his.

  “I can’t.” I whispered.

  “Why not?”

  I bit my lip, still refusing to look at him. “Because I’m afraid if I do you’ll see inside me…the real me.”

  “Oh, Sam,” he whispered. “Don’t you get it? I already do. And that’s why I could never, ever lose you.”

  I turned then, and he smiled at me, his smile that glowed from the inside. And I gave in.

  He reached out and ran his palm against my cheek, his hand warm and gentle. My breathing hitched at even that simple touch.

  “Jeremy?” I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  My eyes widened.

  “You are. Your skin, your smile, your little turned up nose.” He tapped me on the tip of my nose. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  I shook my head slowly, petrified if I opened my mouth I’d blurt out something stupid like, you’re beautiful too.

  “I watch you sometimes, like in class or whatever. You get this serious expression when you’re thinking or trying to solve a math problem. This little crinkle right here.” He smoothed a finger between my eyes.

  I fought away a mad giggle.

  “Then other times, when you’re reading, I can tell you’re a million miles away. In this world all your own. It made me wish I could be there with you.”

  I’d always believed the saying ‘my heart melted’ was idiotic…until that precise second, because mine melted into a giant puddle of goo. It wasn’t humanly possible to feel more alive than I did right at that moment, until he leaned down and kissed me.

  And my world changed forever.

  Thirty-Five

  To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.

  —Lewis B. Smedes

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Jeremy looked at me from behind the wheel of his car.

  Was I sure? No. Not in the least. For the past week, since our kiss, Jeremy had been there for me in every way that mattered—someone to talk to, or spend time with and just laugh while trying to push the thought of my impending trial out of my mind. And I loved him for it.

  But now, sitting in the parking lot of the Eastern NY Correctional Facility, I’d begun to wonder if even his quiet strength was enough to bolster me for what lay ahead—seeing my father for the first time in three years. I hadn’t so much as spoken to him on the phone since the day I’d watched him walk out of the courtroom. I hadn’t known what to say, hadn’t wanted to hear anything he might say. My anger and resentment and hurt had built a wall up around me that I’d used as a shield to hide behind…partially so I didn’t actually have to face my feelings. It was easier to shove them down and pretend they didn’t exist.

  But denial probably wasn’t the healthiest option. Finally facing that truth was what led to me sitting in Jeremy’s car, staring out the window at the massive stone building. Tall barbed wire fence surrounded the structure, but what totally struck me as odd was the fact that the prison almost looked like an old castle, complete with several multi-colored flags hanging from a front entrance and odd towers sticking off the side. It looked more like something you’d find plunked down in a Scottish field than maximum security housing for male prisoners.

  Off to the left, a pathetic excuse for an exercise yard was empty. Something inside me tightened thinking of my father only being allowed to go outdoors at specified times. I wondered what that would feel like—to be so contained, caged up. Sweat beaded at my hairline as I sat frozen, staring.

  Jeremy reached out to gently take hold of my trembling hand. “If you’re not ready, or if you think this will be too hard, it’s okay. We can come back another time.”

  I shook my head. This was something I needed to do; I had to face him. “No, I’m fine. Let’s go.” Before I could lose my nerve and change my mind, I opened the car door and stepped out. Wind bit my cheeks and blew my hair across my face, temporarily shielding my view of what lay ahead.

  We walked together to the entrance marked for visitors. Once inside, a uniformed guard directed us through a tall doorway that served as a metal detector. Another guard stood inside the archway. His somber expression, along with the gun holstered to his waist, made me swallow. I turned to Jeremy, and he must have read the terror in my eyes, because he squeezed my hand and mouthed, I’m right here.

  When it was our turn to enter the visiting area, panic hit me again. My legs trembled so much that I worried I couldn’t make it across the worn floor to sit at the scarred wooden table. The room was large, and uniformed guards flanked the edges, watching to ensure no one stepped out of line. We sat down, and waited for my father to enter the room. My chest tightened, and I desperately wished I had something to drink to ease the dryness in my mouth.

  A minute later I saw him. Tears filled my eyes as he scanned the room, seeking me out. When our eyes met, it was as though someone punched me in the stomach, knocking all of the air from my lungs. Whether it was a result of seeing how much he’d aged in just three years, or the hurt rising to the surface reminding me of all I’d lost, I wasn’t sure.

  He made his way across the room and sat down across from us at the table. He was thinner than I remembered, and his shoulders stooped in a way they never had before. It was like looking at a ghost of the strong man I’d once known.

  “Samantha.” He reached across the table as though to take my hand, but I pulled back. I swallowed down the burning lump in my throat and stared at him.

  “Why did you do it?” The words escaped before I could stop them. All the time I’d spent planning what to say to him, and I couldn’t remember a single thing I’d come up with. I just needed to understand why…why he’d chosen greed over his family. Over me.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, and if possible, his shoulders slumped even more. When he looked at me again, tears filled his eyes.

&
nbsp; “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head. “If I could take it back, change the mistakes I made, I would. In a second.”

  I stared at him. A piece of me broke inside at his words, the part of me that missed my dad and remembered the man he’d once been to me, my hero. But a bigger part of me felt nothing but anger, fury at what he’d done.

  “Saying I’m sorry doesn’t change what happened,” I whispered hoarsely. “It doesn’t make things right or put our family back together again.”

  “No, you’re right, it doesn’t,” he said.

  My hands balled into fists on my lap, and I was ready to spring from the chair, to rush out the door, when Jeremy laid his hand on my own, offering silent support.

  My father glanced at Jeremy then. “Thank you for coming with her, for being such a good friend to Samantha.”

  “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her.”

  A sad smile crossed my dad’s face. “I know, and I appreciate that.” He looked back at me. “How have you been? How’s school?”

  I barked out a laugh. “Seriously? We’re going to sit here and you’re going to ask me about school?”

  “I…I just want to know how you’ve been doing. I want to know you’re okay.”

  “No, Dad, I’m not okay. I’m not okay at all.” My voice rose. “I’ve been ostracized and ridiculed and had to put up with being the butt of jokes since I have a convict for a father.”

  He sucked in air like I’d punched him. I knew I was being horrible, but I’d needed to get it out, to vent the pain I’d kept bottled up since I was thirteen years old.

  I wanted to tell him about how badly I’d screwed up, and blame it all on him. Until it hit me that I’d made all of the choices to do what I’d done, just as my father had done three years ago. The blame rested squarely on my own shoulders, and no one else’s. Tears rolled down my cheeks as we stared at each other. I saw my pain mirrored in his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for all the ways that I failed you and your mother. For all that I’ve missed, and all the hurt I’ve caused you.”

  My lips trembled, and my chest felt like something heavy was weighing me down.