by Robin Talley
I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to have this, all of it, all at once.
When my heart started to slow down a little, I shifted down on the bed until I was lying next to her. She slid over to lie on my chest, the reverse of how we’d spent last night. Somehow I felt even closer to her now than I had then. Two days before I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.
I wondered what else I’d been wrong about.
PART 5
Breakdown
CHAPTER 20
I was positive everyone would be able to tell.
As soon as I left the dorm room, it was as if there was a spotlight shining on me. As if all the built-up feelings from last night were spilling out of my mind and radiating out through my skin.
But so far that day—through our whirlwind of packing up the dorm, the early-morning chapel service the chaperones dragged us to and the hours we’d already spent on the bus—the only person who’d looked at me differently was Christa.
She was two seats up next to Rodney, but she kept twisting around to look my way. I met her gaze as often as I dared. Usually, after a few seconds, one or both of us would start giggling and she’d twist back around. Then a few minutes later we’d start all over again.
I reached back, rubbing the spot on my shoulder blade where she’d drawn three more tiny hearts that morning. I’d drawn a matching set next to her belly button. That way our shirts would cover them up, but we’d always know they were there.
It was a quiet ride. There were a few people being obnoxious at the back of the bus—unsurprisingly, it was Nick, Paul, Tyler and their crowd—but everyone else spent the first half of the ride on their phones. By the time we’d crossed the border into Mexico a collective resignation had swept through the bus as, one by one, our phones stopped working, and eyes started drifting closed.
I was sitting with Jake again. He was telling me about all the secret parties that’d happened in various dorm rooms late last night. He’d hung out in Gina and Lori’s room with a bunch of people from our church’s youth group, and now he kept asking me questions about Eric, our youth group president. I got the sense he was interested, but he never came right out and said so, so I was saved from having to break the news that, in addition to being older, taller, better-looking and more boring than pretty much any guy at our church, Eric was as straight as they came.
“I didn’t see your brother, though,” Jake said. “He didn’t even come into our room last night until I was already asleep. Then he tripped on the carpet and woke me up. It’s a good thing I’ve been sleeping on the floor of a church with twenty other guys for the past three weeks or I’d have had a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Drew’s a giant klutz.”
“Where do you think he was all night?”
I shrugged. I seemed to barely even know my brother at this point.
Jake kept talking, but I tuned out. It was so bizarre to think that only a few hours ago I’d been naked in bed with Christa, and now I was sitting here on a bus as though nothing had changed.
I was dying to tell someone. There was always Jake, but...he was a guy. He wouldn’t get what a big deal this was. Plus, I was pretty sure he’d never done it, so he might be embarrassed.
The person I really wanted to tell was Lori, but after what happened yesterday it looked as if things between us were permanently over. Apparently I was on the market for a new best friend. Maybe Christa should take her slot. After all, “friends” would be our only option once we got back home.
It sucked, but being Christa’s friend would be better than being her nothing.
“Hey, I wanted to ask you something.” A white guy from Jake’s church whose name I couldn’t remember was suddenly kneeling in the aisle next to my seat. “Did you have anyone sign up yet for gun control?”
Oh, right. The debate seemed a lot less exciting this morning than it had during our big planning session the day before.
“Which side?” I asked as Jake reached for his notebook.
“The hunters’ side,” the guy said. “These gun control people have never seen what a daggone herd of deer can do to your garden.”
Jake chortled in his seat. I wondered if everyone in West Virginia felt that way about deer.
“No one’s signed up yet, Luke,” Jake said. “I’ll put you down.”
“Thanks, man.” Luke reached over me to whack Jake on the shoulder in that way guys did sometimes. Jake smiled. I wondered how often guys used to whack Jake on the shoulder before he started hanging out with girls so much.
“How many sign-ups does that make?” I asked him.
Jake turned to the schedule we’d scribbled down yesterday at lunch. “Almost twenty. We should really figure out how long we want everyone to talk for. Pretty soon we’re going to have to start cutting people off from adding new issues.”
“Hey, Olivia.” I leaned between the seats to get her attention. She was sitting right behind Jake and me, next to Gina. “Want to look at the debate schedule with us?”
“Sure.” Olivia leaned out into the aisle.
“I think we should open with gay marriage,” I said. “That’s probably going to be the easiest one.”
“We still don’t have anyone signed up to argue the pro side, though,” Jake said.
“Then you should do it,” Olivia said. “You haven’t signed up for anything yet, have you? You’d do a better job than anyone else here.”
“She’s right.” I nodded emphatically. “You’d be great. I mean, this whole thing was your idea.”
Jake cleared his throat. “I thought I’d do the opening welcome. As master of ceremonies.”
“I can do that.” I wasn’t going to let him make excuses. “I’ll do the intro and then hand it over to you for the first debate.”
Jake’s forehead creased. “I thought you didn’t want to talk first. Because of your public speaking fear.”
Oh, right. That had seemed like such a big deal before. “Whatever. It’ll be easy. I’ll go, ‘Hi, welcome, our first debate is on marriage rights,’ and hand it over to you.”
“Seriously, Jake.” Olivia’s smile was earnest. I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one who’d suspected Jake wasn’t straight. “You’ll be fantastic. Almost everyone here signed your petition. They’ll all be cheering you on.”
That got Jake’s attention. “Maybe. I’ll think about it. Let’s leave that blank for now.”
We worked on the schedule for a few more minutes. Then Olivia wanted to start writing her speech, on insurance coverage for birth control, so she moved up to the front of the bus where it was quieter.
It took Jake and me almost the entire bus ride to get through the rest of the list. We barely noticed as the landscape changed outside our window and some of the people who’d drifted off to sleep started opening their eyes and stretching. We were trying to figure out when to announce the results of the final vote when I felt someone poking me in the arm.
I turned around, ready for another sign-up request. Instead, someone shoved a phone in front of my face.
On the screen was a picture of me and Christa. Kissing. Our eyes closed, our mouths wide open, up against the wall of the church in Mudanza during our first week there.
I stopped breathing. I felt invaded. Violated. Like someone had snuck into my room at night while I was sleeping.
“Where did you get that?” I tried to grab the phone, but the guy holding it snatched it away. It was Nick. His eyes were cold and hard.
“It was you, right?” Nick slipped the phone into his back pocket. His voice was low. Most of the other people around us were still asleep, but Jake was watching and listening, his eyes wide. “You told your daddy on us?”
“I—” I swallowed. There was no point denying it. Besides, I didn’t wa
nt to lie. Nick and his friends were the ones who’d done something bad, not me.
“Tell him you were wrong,” Nick said, still in that weird low voice. “That you didn’t see what you thought you saw. Unless you want me to send this to the whole church email list.”
He pointed to the phone in his pocket.
Oh, God. The Holy Life email list. My parents were on that.
Christa’s parents were on that.
“Seriously?” Jake whispered to Nick. “You so had it coming.”
“They called my dad,” Nick muttered. “Do you have any idea what he’s going to do to me when I get home?”
“That isn’t Aki’s fault,” Jake muttered back. Part of me wanted him to shut up—I could fight my own battles—but mostly I was glad he was talking, because I had no idea what to say.
“I’m not kidding,” Nick whispered. He was looking at me, not Jake. “If you think I am, wait. You’ll find out.”
No one had ever looked at me with so much hate.
“How’d they get that photo?” I asked Jake, my voice shaking, as Nick walked back down the aisle.
“Uh, well.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it was actually one of the Rockville girls who took it. People were kind of, um, passing it around for a while. Sorry. I didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”
“Oh, my God.” I buried my face in my hands.
“What I want to know,” Jake said, “is how they found out you were the one who told on them.”
“Huh.” I looked up. “Good question. I only told you and—”
And Christa.
Christa, who’d been friends with those guys since they were kids.
She wouldn’t have. Not after everything that had happened that weekend.
But...maybe if she didn’t mean to...if it only slipped out...the way it did when she told Madison about Lori...
I wasn’t her girlfriend, after all. She didn’t have to be loyal to me over her friends.
But, man, did it ever hurt that I couldn’t count on that.
Dad stood up and called for the bus’s attention, jerking me out of my thoughts. I’d been sure Dad would know what had happened as soon as he saw me that morning. But when we’d gathered in front of the dorm for breakfast all he’d said was, “Hope you’ve had a good weekend, Aki.”
He sounded exactly the same as when he asked me how school was back home. He was trying to be an attentive dad, but he couldn’t care less what answer I actually gave him.
Mom would figure it out when I got home next week, though, I was certain. I’d have to figure out what to say. I didn’t know which would freak her out more—the idea that I’d had sex, or that I’d done it with a girl.
“Welcome back to Mudanza, folks,” Dad called from the front of the bus. “We’re getting back late thanks to that line at the border crossing, so we’re going to hurry straight to dinner. After that we’ll have a special extended vespers to talk about everything you learned during the festival, so make sure you come ready to share.”
Everyone groaned, me most of all. Extended vespers meant I wouldn’t have time with Christa before we had to be back at the church. I wouldn’t be able to ask her about what happened with Nick.
Maybe that was okay, though. I could use some space to think.
I climbed off the bus with Jake and joined the line trudging toward the food, but before I could make it ten feet, I felt a hand tugging at my elbow. I turned, afraid to face Nick again.
“Hey, Sis.” Drew was at my side, his face tight. “I need you to come help me.”
“Okay.” I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t know what Drew wanted, but I could tell it was serious.
He led me toward the Riveras’ house, walking so fast we were nearly running. For a second I thought about telling him what had happened last night, but I held back. I wanted to tell someone, but not my brother. And definitely not when he was on such an intense mission.
“I decided you were right.” Drew’s words were so clipped I had to strain to hear him. “I’ve gotta get this over with. Like a Band-Aid.”
“Get what over with?”
But I figured out what Drew had in mind when I saw Dad up ahead. He had a bag over his shoulder and was about to go through the Riveras’ back door.
Drew called out to him first. “Hey, Dad, hold up!”
Dad turned around. His face paled. “What’s wrong, Drew? Aki?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Drew was nearly panting when we caught up to Dad. He hadn’t played basketball since he left high school, and he must’ve gotten out of shape. I hadn’t noticed until now. “I have something I’ve gotta tell you.”
Dad looked back and forth from Drew to me. His face was still. “Of course, son.”
“Yeah, so.” Drew looked at me, too. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, anxious, waiting. This was going to be awful.
Finally Drew said it. “I’m going to—Dad, just so you know, yesterday I went to the ROTC office and told them I want to join the army.”
Dad didn’t move. His face was as still, as pale, as it had been when Drew and I first ran up to him.
“It’s only,” Drew went on, when Dad didn’t respond, “college isn’t really the right fit for me. I want to do something different, and the army, it’s perfect. I’ll just join for a couple of years. They can give me training to get a really good job when I get out, maybe in a tech field or something. Or maybe by then I’ll want to go back to school, or—”
Drew stopped talking suddenly. I followed his gaze. Dad’s eyes were closed, and he was paler than ever.
He had that same frazzled look I’d seen a few times earlier that summer. And his hands were shaking.
No—all of him was. His whole body quivered.
I’d never seen my father this way. It was scary.
“Daddy? Are you okay?” I stepped forward, then threw my arms around him. That was what he and Mom always did whenever Drew or I freaked out about something.
At first, Dad didn’t react at all. Then, after a long, frantic minute, he patted the back of my head, gently. “There, there, sweetheart. It’s all right.”
“What’s the matter?” I drew back. His face was still pale, but his eyes were open and gentle. “Dad?”
He didn’t answer me. Instead he turned his focus to Drew. My brother looked almost as pale as Dad did.
“Dad?” Drew’s voice croaked on the word. “I—I don’t—”
“Young man.” Dad pulled away from my embrace, leaving one firm, reassuring hand on my shoulder.
He was using the voice he used to lecture us. Low, heavy, as though he was measuring every word. I exhaled slowly. This was the Dad I knew.
“You’re over eighteen,” he told Drew. “Which means that, legally, this is your decision to make. But there is a piece of information I should have shared with you, and with your sister, too, before now. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say before you make this decision.”
Drew swallowed. It was strange to see my brother looking meek now that he was even taller than Daddy. “Yes, sir.”
Dad turned to me. “Aki, do you recall the photo you found in my bag, of your uncle Andrew?”
I nodded, lost.
“I know it must have been strange for you, seeing that photo,” Dad went on. “You haven’t seen any pictures of your uncle Andrew since you were a little girl, have you?”
“No.” I paused. “Wait, that’s weird. Why don’t we have any up at the house? We have photos of everybody else in the family.”
Dad cleared his throat and turned back to Drew. “Well, that’s because my memories of your uncle are complicated. I’ve been thinking of him more and more this summer, especially with some of the recent news reports we’ve seen. You see, Andre
w was only a boy when he died—he was nineteen, the same age you are now, Drew—and there’s a lot he didn’t get to do. That’s why it hurts to see his face and remember how short a time he had here.”
God, Dad was right. That was incredibly sad. When my uncle died, he’d only lived four years longer than I had right now. What would I do if I only got to live four more years?
“That’s why it’s important to me that you kids have the opportunities Andrew didn’t.” Dad’s eyes were locked on Drew’s. “And it’s crucial that you both have a strong relationship with God and with your faith. It’s the only way to achieve true happiness when you’re grown.”
Drew nodded, waiting to see where Dad was going with this.
“But there’s something else you don’t know about your uncle.” Dad’s lip trembled, but he kept talking in that low, calm voice. “I’ve always told you that he died of cancer. Well, I’m ashamed to admit it, but that was a lie. I found the truth too painful to share—but that’s no excuse. We must always face the truth. I should’ve learned that lesson by now.”
“Dad.” Drew swallowed. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do,” Dad interrupted. “You see, son, your uncle and I made a plan when we were in high school. I was one year older than him, and we decided that as soon as we were both old enough—as soon as your uncle turned eighteen—we would leave school together and enlist in the air force. We wanted to be fighter pilots, you see. We believed that only when we were wearing our new uniforms would our lives truly start.”
I bit my lip. I was struggling to believe all of this—Dad had always told us he loathed the military and everything to do with it—but I could sort of understand that last part. About waiting for your real life to start.
“Well,” Dad went on, “we were still a year away from Andrew’s birthday when we made that plan, and by the time it was approaching, I’d had second thoughts. I’d started college, and I’d met your mother, and suddenly the idea of becoming a pilot didn’t hold the same appeal for me that it had in high school. When I told your uncle I’d changed my mind, he was furious. On his eighteenth birthday he walked straight into a recruiting center. A little over a year later, he was killed in the Gulf War.”
