Use Somebody

by Riley Jean

“Obviously he does. And mind your expressions, will you? Or you’ll get wrinkles.”

  “You do know he reacts that way no matter what we say, right?”

  She sighed, clearly exhausted of the contention and this same old argument. “He’s family. Can’t you just make a bigger effort to get along?”

  “So it’s my responsibility to coddle my twenty-two-year-old brother so he doesn’t throw temper tantrums?”

  “Don’t you talk back to your mother, young lady,” my father raised his voice, patience gone. “I’m getting sick and tired of this new attitude. This has gone on long enough. It’s time to grow up. Clean yourself up, you look ridiculous. Stop moping around your bedroom all day and get a real damn job.”

  After that outburst, it was quiet around the dinner table once again. My mama gave me a pleading look. I had a feeling it was more for James than it was for me. I understood that she was his mother, and she couldn’t give up on him. I even hoped deep down that the military would be good for him. But I couldn’t keep holding out for miracles. I wasn’t a glutton for disappointment.

  Chapter 13

  The Fall

  “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World

  “Let’s wait five more minutes.”

  It was a pleasant afternoon in late September, sunny and clear with just a slight breeze. In an effort to get out of the house more, I invited the Mooshi crew to go mountain biking in the canyon. We decided to meet at my house since there was an entrance to the paths at the end of our cul-de-sac. But so far only Vance had shown up.

  He cleaned his Wayfarers with the hem of his shirt and took the opportunity to give me a no-nonsense look. “Rosie. They’re forty-five minutes late and no one is picking up their phone. They’re not coming.”

  “Thanks a lot, guys,” I muttered to myself. I couldn’t believe they would agree to come and then ditch us. One minute Summer was giving me the stink eye for finding out about our late night pancakes, but when I created the opportunity for us all hang out together, she bailed. “So what should we do now?”

  “I want to ride,” Vance answered, slipping on his shades.

  Not the answer I was hoping for.

  I stared off into the trees, nervous about spending the afternoon alone with Vance. It’s not like we’d never hung out one-on-one before. We’d worked together late at night for months, rode around in his truck, and shared a booth in Honey’s countless nights. But everything felt different in the light of day.

  A seed of doubt had been planted, and it began to take root. Ever since I found out that his relationship was maybe not as solid as I always thought, I’d tried to recreate some distance. This felt like a step in the wrong direction.

  “Maybe we should reschedule so everyone else can make it?”

  “No. They flaked; they miss out.”

  “But we all planned to go together.”

  “Then we’ll go again. But I wanna ride today. You coming or not?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he took off towards the canyon trail. I hesitated for only a moment before swinging a leg over my own bike and following.

  The canyon was absolutely beautiful in the late afternoon. A little slice of nature in my own backyard, bursting with green and with life. Stray branches and leaves reached out to grab at us as we rode along. The canopy of trees above grew so abundantly thick, we were almost entirely shaded along the manmade path. It followed the creek through twists and turns, dips and hills for endless miles.

  Vance led with a good pace, but I kept up. We passed hikers, other bikers, and even a couple of horse riders.

  We traveled several miles out before Vance slowed to a stop. I recognized this spot. There was a steep twenty-foot drop down to the creek, and hooked around a nearby tree was the notorious rope.

  “You’ve ridden the rope swing before, right?”

  I’d been hiking in these canyons since I was a young teen, and I’d been to this very spot a hundred times before with my old clique. It always looked like a blast, but I never had enough courage to actually ride the rope swing myself.

  “Actually,” I said, setting the kickstand on my bike, “I have not.”

  “Too afraid?” he asked with a smirk.

  I grinned and untied the thick rope from the tree. “Not today.”

  We stepped right up to the cliff and stood together overlooking the creek. The rocks and bushes at the bottom looked pretty far away. Twenty feet… that distance still terrified me, but I wouldn’t let it stop me this time.

  “Any last advice?” I asked, peering over the edge.

  “Keep your eyes open.”

  With a nod, I hooked my foot in the loop, took a deep breath, and stepped out into empty air.

  Taking Vance’s advice, I kept my eyes open and held tight to the rope as I went into freefall for two stories before the rope fully held my weight. There was no solid ground beneath me as I flew inches above the shallow creek. The wind whipped wildly through my curls until I swung all the way to the other side. My speed slowed, then the rope swung me all the way back, like a life-sized pendulum.

  A cloud of dust kicked up as I landed right where I started, breathing hard. Another fear conquered. My dimples popped with the huge smile I sported.

  I did it.

  My heart was pounding against my ribcage as Vance helped me down from the rope. My wide smile proved to be infectious when he grinned back at me. “How was it?”

  “Exhilarating!” I breathed.

  Vance went next with a running start and daring leap, building enough momentum to swing back and forth more than once. At one point he leaned all the way back and skimmed his hand through the water as he went by. Another time, he kicked off the ledge and swung in a wide circle instead of a straight line.

  “Are you afraid of anything?” I shouted, hands on my hips.

  “Of course I am!” he yelled back as he flew through the air like Tarzan. But he didn’t elaborate.

  We took turns on the rope swing, each ride even more adventurous and freeing than the last. By the end I was leaping off the cliff and twisting myself around the rope just like Vance had. And I kept my eyes open each and every time.

  When we finally mounted our bikes and headed home, I felt on top of the world. Fearless. Untouchable.

  That was, until my tire hit an underhanded root.

  The next thing I saw was the sky flipping over my feet.

  “Eep!” I squealed, tumbling over my handle bars. The world was a blur of brown and green, hard surfaces and speed as I somersaulted multiple times before coming to a rough landing.

  I inhaled sharply, the wind knocked out of me.

  “You with me, Rosie?” Vance shouted. His voice echoed from far away.

  I groaned and tried to sit up. Disoriented, swaying, I struggled to find my balance. A sharp pain emanated from one or more of my limbs. The trees and bushes swirled around me in a dizzying blur.

  Tires skidded to a stop a few feet away, followed by hurried footsteps. Then Vance’s face was all I saw.

  “Look at me,” he said, concern etched in his features as all four of his green eyes examined me. “You okay?”

  Soreness slowly crawled into different spots on my body. I lifted my hands to survey the damage. “Damn it!” I whispered. My left hand and forearm were covered in cuts and scratches, gravel and blood embedded in the flesh. I’d hardly be able to grip the handle bar like this. How was I going to ride all the way back? We were in the middle of nowhere.

  He took my hand ever so gently in his and inspected the injury. A frown formed between his brows. “We need to get this cleaned up. Can you stand?”

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t totally incompetent.

  Putting my weight on my good hand, I pushed myself up. Before I was able to fully straighten, pain shot up my legs and my knees gave out. Vance caught me as I fell forward and crashed right into him.

  This could not be happening!

  My eyes squeezed shut in humiliation. I could hardly stand on m
y own two feet, let alone push myself away from the contact. Surpassing the physical pain, I downright hated feeling powerless.

  Vance smirked, taking advantage of the situation. “Was this some scheme to wind up in my arms?”

  “Shut up,” I said through clenched teeth. He deserved a shove for that comment. I’d have to deliver it later.

  My legs couldn’t even support my own weight. Rather than hold me up, he bent his knees and lowered us both to the ground.

  “What hurts?” he asked, hovering over me.

  “What are you, a doctor?” I demanded.

  “No, Rosie, but I am an Eagle Scout.”

  I gaped at him with anxious eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You can trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  I groaned.

  He would be an effing Eagle Scout.

  Vance Holloway was officially the golden boy.

  “What hurts?” he repeated.

  “My pride.”

  “Did you hit your head?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  His hands carefully inspected me. I winced when he touched my left ankle, pain shooting under the surface of my skin. Very gently, he rolled up my pant leg, removed my shoe and sock. It was already beginning to swell.

  “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said, “but you might’ve sprained it. Think you can sit up on the bike? I’ll push you home.”

  I nodded my head. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of it, but I’d give it a try.

  He got my bike and pushed it towards me, but it appeared to be stuck. He bent down to inspect the chains and the wheel spokes. His thumb pressed down on the rubber of the tire. Flat.

  “Front wheel’s busted. Looks like the frame is bent.”

  “Perfect,” I grumbled.

  “It’s an easy fix, but not without a new wheel and tools. I’ll carry it back.”

  “You’re going to carry my bike, and push me on yours?” I asked, doubtful.

  “Well, yeah. Come on.” He came back to help me onto his bike, hoisting my arm over his shoulders to help me stand. As soon as I was upright, things started to spin again. I hobbled over to his bike and sat, hoping it would cure the dizziness. But my balance was topsy turvy. My ankle was seriously starting to hurt now that I was upright. I clenched my teeth. Pain throbbed from multiple spots.

  He pulled out his phone and quietly sighed. “No service.” He looked around and seemed to be racking his brain until he finally looked back at me. “Um… I’m going to have to carry you.”

  No. Effing. Way.

  “Just… gimmie a minute,” I winced, hoping the pain would subside.

  “It’s a twisted ankle… it’s not gonna heal in a minute.”

  “I would rather walk the five miles back home on a broken leg than have you carry me!” I said.

  His forehead creased, his eyes sweeping over me once more. “You’re going to have to suck it up, Rosie.” In one fluid motion, he swooped underneath my knees and back. Despite my protests, I was in his arms.

  “Vance!” I huffed. But he had already started walking with me cradled to him like a helpless baby. “What about the bikes?”

  “Don’t worry about the bikes. I’ll come back for them later. I know these canyons like my own backyard. I’ll find them.”

  I squirmed against him. “I don’t like this.”

  He chuckled. “Aw come on. It’s like something out of Charlotte’s sexy Wolfgang fantasy. Just try to enjoy it.”

  “I bet your girlfriend will love hearing about this,” I taunted back.

  “Oh. Right.” He looked away, dropping his playfulness. “It’s probably best if she doesn’t find out about this part.”

  Nuh-uh. There was no way I wanted him to keep another secret from his girlfriend because of me. My stubbornness was one thing, I was willing to put aside my aversion to contact if this was my only option. But if he thought his girlfriend would be upset to find out what we had done, there was no way I could make him go through with it.

  “I don’t want to cause problems,” I said.

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “Put me down. We’ll figure something else out.”

  He stopped, looking right into my eyes. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Rosie. You’re hurt and I need to get you back before it gets dark. Evelyn… she just gets jealous, okay? And I’m not gonna rub this in her face. But I’m not just going to leave you here, either.”

  The creek trickled by and leaves danced in the breeze as he waited for me to decide. We’d lost track of time on that rope swing. The air grew chilly as evening approached. It had been a long while since we’d seen anybody and soon it would be getting dark. What choice did we have? If I could walk out of here on my own, I would. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t worth an argument when there were no alternatives. After I capitulated with a nod, he started walking again.

  Karma. That’s what this was. We shouldn’t have gone riding together alone. We should have bowed out when everyone else did. Now I was putting him in a difficult position. Because of me, he was going to have to lie to his girlfriend. Again.

  “Quit it,” he said, reading my thoughts.

  “What are you, a mind reader?” I said, snarky.

  “No. You’re just predictable.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. I couldn’t relax in his arms, and my ankle hurt like a bitch. I could only pray that Vance could walk quickly.

  No such luck. The hike back took a lifetime and a half. When Vance slowed down, I begged him to go faster. The quicker his pace, the more he jostled me. My ankle was in excruciating pain, not to mention my arm. I tried to hide it, but a couple whimpers managed to escape, which made him slow down again. As much as I was aching, by the look on his face, I wasn’t sure who had it worse.

  We had to take a break several times. Surprisingly I seemed to need it more than him. When he offered me the tube to his camel pack, I shot him a look which roughly translated to “hell no.”

  “Drink the water, Rosie,” he instructed in a stern voice that offered no argument.

  Bossy.

  I sighed dramatically. Of course it had to be a camel pack, and not a water bottle where I could’ve just poured it straight into my mouth.

  I cleaned off his germs with the inside of my shirt. Closing my eyes, I put the tube between my lips, then gently bit down and sucked. My throat was actually really dry, and as soon as the water started flowing, I realized how much I needed to quench my thirst.

  When I handed it back, he put the mouthpiece right up to his lips and took a drink. Right where my lips had just been!

  I curled my nose. So. Weird.

  No one was home when we finally reached my house. He brought me inside and headed straight for the downstairs bathroom, setting me on the counter and elevating my foot.

  “You have a first aid kit?”

  I pointed.

  He opened the pantry just outside the door, and frowned. “This is the liquor cabinet.”

  Bingo.

  “Bring me the Jack, will you?”

  He chuckled and closed the pantry, then made his way through the bathroom cabinets without asking for anymore help. A few bottles rattled as he read labels and gathered the items he needed. First things he handed me were two small pills and a glass of water. “This isn’t Jack Daniels, though it may be just as good,” he said. “It’ll make you drowsy, but it’ll help with the pain.”

  Fine with me. Anything to get rid of this damn pain.

  While I was guzzling that down he gently took my left arm. “The dirt got in there real deep. I’m gonna have to scrub it out so it doesn’t get infected.” He looked at me like he didn’t want to do it. I’m sure my expression mirrored his perfectly. “It’s gonna hurt.”

  “Bring it on,” I breathed, though it was labored. My brave front was hardly convincing, but the alternative was admitting my weakness, and I wouldn’t do that in front of anyone. I wiped my forehead with the back of my right hand and cr
inged. It was grainy with sweat and dirt. I avoided my reflection at all cost, not wanting to see the result of helmet hair and a tumble through the canyon.

  When Vance caught my reaction, I tried to smile. “Don’t be jealous of my fabulousness,” I joked. He chuckled.

  A wet, warm cloth was pressed to my arm and started forming sudsy circles. The circles got rougher as he focused on scrubbing specific spots in my torn skin. It felt like he was scraping off each layer one at a time with sand paper.

  I peeked—bad idea. In addition to the pain, the gruesome sight made my stomach turn. I clamped my eyes and bit my lip, absorbing the burn.

  Just when I couldn’t take it anymore, when I was about to tell him to leave the damn shards in my skin because it hurt too badly to continue, he started to sing.

  It was a song called The Middle, about a girl I could definitely identify with at this point in time. A girl who felt like she was left out and looked down on, belittled and judged, when all she wanted was to find her place. But at the end of the day, she was who she was, and it didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

  His rendition was slow, at about half the speed of the Jimmy Eat World version, and so, so quiet, it was almost a whisper. When he sang that everything would be alright, I wanted to join him, but I couldn’t. My throat was too tight to form coherent sounds, so I just stared at his mouth and focused on the sound of his voice.

  Time passed. There was no telling how much. My mind was kinda foggy and I’d been fading in and out. I opened my eyes and realized my cheek was pressed against Vance’s chest. I fit nicely there. Like a little nook.

  I looked up to his face. His eyes were focused, concentrating on whatever his hands were doing. I didn’t peek this time because the skin on my arm felt like it had been scrubbed raw. Sensing my gaze, he glanced down at me. His eyes bounced between mine, only inches away, soft and full of concern.

  “Why didn’t you tell her?” I said faintly. “About Honey’s.” My voice was small and everything seemed slower than normal. Whatever pills Vance had given me had already kicked in.

  The saddest smile I’d ever seen graced his face. “Almost done.”

  He poured hydrogen peroxide down the length of my forearm, and I hissed as it sizzled into my cuts.