Complete (Incomplete)

by Lindy Zart

  “What?”

  “Did you or did you not break up with her? I mean, are we having some spiritual threesome or what?”

  He stares at me for a long, long time, and then the corners of his eyes crinkle up as a slow grin tugs at his lips. “You think I've been fooling around with you while still dating Megan?”

  “Haven't you?” In hindsight, it really doesn't fit Grayson, but sometimes—okay, a lot of the time, feelings get in the way of logic.

  “You're my girl on the side, huh?” He rubs his jaw, the rain and dark skies casting a sinister, dangerous look to him that makes me want to attack him and have my way with him.

  “Answer the question!”

  “Of course not!” he shouts back. “I broke up with her before we ever had sex! Not long after she went back to California. Why would I keep dating her after everything that's happened between us? It would hold no purpose.”

  “I don't know! Because you're a guy!”

  He gives me a chastising look. “Really, Lily?”

  I blow out a noisy breath. “You should have told me. I've been worrying and wondering this whole time.”

  “I almost feel like I should be offended that you think so lowly of me.”

  “I don't think lowly of you. I just...we haven't exactly talked about anything. How was I to know? I mean, this has been nice, but—”

  “Nice? This has been nice?” His tone is incredulous. “This has not been nice. This has been pretty much fucking perfect, and you know it.” Gripping my face within his cool hands, Grayson stares down into my eyes. “You are it for me. Understand? There's no one else. There won't ever be. There never really was. Just you. It's always been you.”

  I am bombarded with so many feelings that I can't even make sense of them. I want to cry and laugh. I want to hit Grayson at the same time I want to be wrapped around him. I tackle him. It is spontaneous and wild, but I do it. We slam to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs with a grunt, and I lay my body completely over his. I can feel the angles and planes of Grayson; all the muscles and bones, and even his arousal, as I shove against him with my body. I don't say anything. At least, not with any words.

  I tug his lower lip between mine, sucking on it and then nipping at it. My breathing is fast, colliding with the quickness of his. I feel his heart pounding beneath me and place my palm to his chest, my lips never leaving his. Love you, love you, love you pulsates through me in rhythm with his heart. He takes over the kiss and rolls us so I am on the ground. The wet and cold of it are shocking against my heated flesh and my eyes open.

  “I'm assuming you ran over?”

  I nod.

  “My car is in the parking lot,” he tells me, staring down at me with dark eyes.

  “Is it the Escort?”

  He scoffs, “Of course.”

  We move at the same time; simultaneously scrambling to our feet. Laughing as we race for the car, Grayson peels out of the parking lot and heads for my apartment. I can't believe he still has this car, but I'm glad he does. This car symbolizes us and our teenage years.

  A huge weight has been lifted and it shows when we reach for each other's rain-dampened bodies in the bedroom of my apartment. This time it is slow; each of us not wanting to rush it. Time is finally not our enemy.

  THE MOTORCYCLE RIDE GOT POSTPONED to Sunday due to the rain; that and our inability to keep our hands off each other for any substantial amount of time. We spent the day in bed talking and...other things. It seemed surreal. And as I gaze at Grayson, there is still a dream-like quality. Is this really happening? I keep asking myself this. I wanted it so badly; yearned for it for so long, and told myself it couldn't be. Yet here we are, lying under a sun-kissed sky, together.

  “Tell me what a typical day for you is like.”

  “Why?” I ask, his blue eyes holding my gaze.

  “Because I'm curious.”

  The blanket beneath us is light blue and scratchy and our hands meet in the middle of it. We went for an hour ride that was both alarming and awesome—most notably alarming when the bike went past thirty miles an hour. I could tell Grayson was laughing at me when I reflexively squeezed his waist, even though we were unable to hear each other over the roar of the engine.

  We are in the backyard of his dad's house. Maybe it would seem cheesy to some to be hanging out on a blanket in the backyard of their boyfriend's dad's house, but to me it is subliminal. It is like going back in time with everything altered for the better.

  “I think your typical day would be much more interesting.”

  “Yeah. You're probably right. You know, lovesick girls chasing me and everything.” He laughs when I scowl at him. “But I want to hear about you. Two years is a lot of days. How did you spend them? What did you do? What has your life been like since I left?”

  I turn my face to the sun and let it warm my skin, closing my eyes against the fiery light. “It's been a lot of teeth and insurance mayhem.”

  “Teeth. Hmm. What have you learned about teeth?”

  “I learned there are five surfaces to each tooth. Typically a mouth has twenty-eight teeth in it, unless someone has their wisdom teeth, and then there can be up to thirty-two. I've learned to floss every day and get check-ups about every six months.” A smile plays on my lips. “Extremely interesting stuff,” I add when he is quiet. When he still doesn't say anything, I open my eyes and turn my head to the side.

  “You could do anything you wanted to,” he tells me.

  I laugh. “What are you talking about? You got that from me talking about teeth?”

  “Yeah. Because that is the last thing I would have pictured you doing, and yet here you are.”

  “That's one thing,” I argue.

  “One thing a lot of people wouldn't ever do.”

  “But they could; not like you with your music. A lot of people simply don't have the talent for writing and singing music. You either do or you don't. You do.”

  “How many people do you think could really do that kind of work? You don't give yourself enough credit. And people can learn how to write music and sing with lessons.”

  “Not the same thing as having natural talent.” I pause. “You know what makes me want to laugh? When people say stuff about things being harder than pulling teeth. Because I've witnessed and assisted with that more times than I can remember. It usually isn't that hard. I mean, sometimes it is, but generally they just sort of pop out with the right instruments.” I look at Grayson's face and stop talking. “New subject?”

  His face is pale as he swallows. “Yes.”

  “I thought Ben was the one that couldn't handle that kind of stuff?” I tease.

  “I can only take so much, Lily, and then there's a line. You crossed it with the popping out comment.”

  I snort. “Baby.”

  “And not afraid to admit it.”

  “So what is your day like? Style your hair, do photo shoots, sign cleavage, sing for a few minutes, and then go partying?”

  It is his turn to snort. “Not even close. Well, except for the signing cleavage part.”

  I shove him and he laughs. “Not funny. And it's probably true. You don't even want to know all the many scenarios I've played over and over in my head about what you were doing and who you were doing it with.”

  “You're right. I probably don't.” He leans over me, blocking the sun, and studies me. “But the thing is, I was doing the same. Every day away from you was one I hated. I am not exaggerating when I say I thought of you every...single...day.”

  “But you were exaggerating about signing cleavage, right?”

  He drops his forehead to mine and inhales deeply. “God, I love how you smell.”

  I go still. I almost thought he was going to say he loves me. Those are words that have not been shared between us, and I wonder why. I know I am scared to say it in case he doesn't say it back. Maybe it's the same for him. But I know he loves me. Either way, we haven't gotten that far yet.

  “Like sweat?
You're right, it is pretty intoxicating.”

  “No.” His mouth grazes my neck. “Like strawberries and sunshine.”

  “You didn't answer me.”

  He laughs, pulling away. “Because I like it when you're jealous. It's cute.”

  “I'm not jealous.” Okay, so I am, but I don’t have to admit it.

  “You are so jealous. Just say it out loud once.”

  “No.”

  “Say it...or else.”

  I laugh at the sinister look he gives me. “Or else what? You won't sign my cleavage?”

  Grayson's face turns thoughtful. “Something to consider.” He slowly stands, moving out of my line of sight. “Just remember you asked for it.”

  “Asked for what?” I get out a second before I am blasted with unbelievably cold water. I squeal and sputter; lunging to my feet. I slip and almost fall, sprinting for the water hose Grayson drops as he takes off running.

  “Yeah, laugh it up!” I shout, now a sopping wet mess. Grayson stands on the far side of the yard where the hose doesn't reach. He's lucky...for now. “You can't stay over there forever,” I taunt, the hose posed and ready in my hand.

  Crossing his arms, he asks, “Are you sure about that?”

  “Fairly sure, yes. Unless you're going to camp out over there for the rest of your life.”

  Even with the distance between us, I see his eyes brighten and a shrewd look take over his features.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask in a worried tone.

  “We're going camping.”

  “What?”

  He steps toward me, nodding. “Yeah. I've been searching my brain for something adventurous and fun for us to do together and that's it—camping. Remember how we used to go camping during the summer when we were kids? Next weekend, you and me. We're going camping.”

  I watch as he advances another step, careful to remain still so as not to spook him into retreat. “What if I don't want to go camping? Maybe I don't like camping anymore. Maybe I even already have plans.” My eyebrows lift to help get my point across, although there really isn't a point. I'll pretty much go anywhere he suggests as long as I am going with him, but he doesn't need to know that.

  He acts like I didn't even talk. “We'll take the bike and make it a weekend event. Tent it. What do you say, Lily? Are you cool enough?”

  I grin wickedly. “Yep.” And I lift the water hose and spray him in the chest. “How about you?”

  “WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

  The morning sun is waking up the world with the promise of a hot Friday in October. Wisconsin weather is unpredictable, so even though it is early October, it feels more like summer out. The bike and the small trailer hitched to it are packed with the camping essentials. I am giddy about the thought of spending a whole weekend with Grayson and only Grayson, but also sort of nervous. Maybe that's because he won't tell me our destination and the thought of hours on the motorcycle makes me apprehensive. The bike is scary at the same time electrifying; kind of like Grayson, how I feel about him, and how we are together.

  “We're going camping.” He is purposely being evasive. “Ready?”

  The fiery star in the sky catches the blond of his hair, turning it a dark gold. Grayson's rangy frame is clothed in dark jeans, black boots, and a thin black jacket. I am dressed in similar clothes. His eyes are light as they expectantly watch me and there is a boyish cast to his face that spreads warmth through me at the same time it makes me smile.

  “Yeah.” I sigh, giving up on getting any definitive answer from him. He is more stubborn than me at times. I pull my hair into a low ponytail to keep it from getting too snarled and brush wayward strands from my face. “I'm ready.”

  “Not yet. I got you something.” His grin turns mischievous.

  “Life insurance?”

  “Hmm. Why didn't I think of that?” Opening a side pouch, he pulls out something pale pink and shiny.

  I take it, strangely touched that he bought me a girly pink helmet. A smile cracks my face as I meet his eyes. “I love it. Thank you.”

  “Look at the back.”

  I turn it around, scrolly black lettering catching my eye.

  'Savor every happy moment.'

  I know without asking that the saying is from a Dove Promise chocolate wrapper. Eyes stinging, I set the helmet down so I can wrap both of my arms around him, resting my cheek on his chest, smelling his familiar scent. I close my eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat. “Thank you,” I say again, this time my voice wobbly.

  He kisses the top of my head, his chest rising and lowering in a deep breath as his arms hold me close. The stillness of the moment; the rightness of us being in each other's arms, hits me hard. From Grayson's motionlessness, I know he feels it too. This is how it should be. My heart is full, overflowing with love and peace; something I only feel when I am with Grayson.

  “Now we can ride,” he says. “You are the hottest biker chick I have ever seen.”

  I laugh. “Somehow that doesn't really make me feel especially good about myself.”

  “You should. Just looking at you turns me on and makes me want to go all caveman on you and keep you locked away.” His eyes are dark and there is a fierceness to his expression as though he is wordlessly stating I am his and he is mine. He doesn't have to say it. I already know.

  “Again, not so sure how I should feel about that.” A smile teases my lips.

  He gives me a hard kiss that is over before I can really react. “Doesn't matter. It is what it is.” He slings one long leg over the sleek machine and looks at me. “Hop on.”

  As we ride, I am besieged by memories and moments spent with Grayson. His family moved across the street from me when he was eight and I was seven. We were pretty much inseparable after that first day I approached him and asked him his name. I could tell he was more of a loner, but I pushed him to open up to me and he did.

  When we were kids, he used to escape to my house when things at his got too difficult for him to deal with. We would read books in my bed, lying side by side. His would always be science-fiction and mine would be about learning lessons for children, written in colorful ways. As we got older, the books changed into music. Sometimes he would sing to me—those were the best times—and sometimes he made me sing to him. A grin takes over my mouth. I liked to sing 'You Are My Sunshine'; a song my grandpa used to sing to me and one of my favorite songs from my childhood. My grandpa was gone by then, but whenever I heard or sang that song, I felt close to him.

  I didn't sing it well, but Grayson didn't care. He watched me with a serene smile on his face, like it didn't matter what I was singing or how good I was—he was enthralled with the act alone and with me. He always looked at me like I was something special; like I was exceptional. I think that was the first thing I noticed when I fell for him—the way he looked at me. I never considered myself beautiful, and I still don't, but he always looked at me like I was. He still does.

  With the the countryside passing us by and my body wrapped around Grayson's, I can almost believe nothing ever separated us. My arms tighten around his waist. If only I could wipe the past two years away, go back to that day I broke his heart, and do it differently. Don't think about it. This is your second chance. No regrets. The miles we ride seem endless, and yet when he pulls the bike over, it seems as though we haven't ridden far enough.

  “Dubuque, Iowa,” I murmur. “Somehow I was picturing something more rustic.”

  “This is just a stop. I don't really have a set destination. I figured we'd stop where we stop. Sound good?” We are at the riverside of the Mississippi; its mass endless, deep, and tinged brown. Across the vastness of it are sand and trees. The waters are calm and mostly empty.

  “Yeah. But I hope you don't expect us to swim in that.” I have a thing about large bodies of water that I cannot see through—first, they are obviously dirty since you cannot see through them—second, things are in that water that can bite you, eat you, and possibly be mutated sea creatures�
�all of which you cannot see.

  “Not with our clothes on anyway.”

  My eyes fly to his grinning face. “Funny.”

  Grayson grabs my hands and begins to walk along the sidewalk that lines the river. “Remember that time we went to the Madison zoo?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I think about it sometimes.”

  It was a combined field trip for freshmen and sophomores. I don't like zoos, but didn't want to miss a day of school, so I went. I was apprehensive about going. I knew I would be upset at seeing animals confined the way they are. People say they don't know any better; that most of them have better lives at zoos than they would in their natural habitat, and that many of them are born in captivity so it is all they know. Maybe all of that is true, but it isn't natural, not to me.

  When I saw a gorilla sitting behind a large window; everything about it desolate and broken, I cried. It was such a large, impressive beast and to see it so weary was too much. It looked like it had given up and was simply existing. It tore my heart up. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the parking lot of the zoo on the bus waiting. I told Grayson to stay in the zoo and have fun, but he was adamant about sticking by me. We spent the time trying to make each other laugh with outlandish stories about fellow classmates.

  “Why do you think about it? It was a long time ago.”

  He glances at me; his eyes dark chips of unease. “I think about Joe laughing at you. I think about how sad you were, how I hated to see you so sad.”

  “Do you think about when you punched him too?” I ask wryly.

  His scowl disappears as he laughs. “He deserved it. He shouldn't have been picking on you for having a good heart. Jerk.”

  “You got suspended from school for a day,” I remind him.

  He shrugs. “It was worth it. I just...I remember thinking I never wanted to see you so sad again. Of course I did, and sometimes you were sad because of me, but I hated it. Anytime you were upset I wanted to make you feel better.”

  “You usually did.”

  “Usually,” he smirks self-deprecatingly. He grabs me around the waist and spins me around so I am locked in his arms with my back to his front. “Do you see how the river never really has an ending or a beginning? It just flows in every direction with no clear path?”