This Is the Wonder

by Tracey Ward

  He shrugs. “They’re around and I have my cell phone.”

  “You have a cell here?”

  “Yeah,” he says, pulling out a small phone. “I’m here for two years. Might as well. It’s dick simple—sorry,” he laughs, catching himself, “I mean, it’s really basic. I don’t have a plan or anything, I just buy minutes as I go.”

  “So it’s a burner.”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  “Like drug dealers use.”

  He smiles, slipping the phone back in his pocket. “Don’t judge drug dealers too harshly. They’re incredibly thrifty. By the way, your friends are gone again.”

  “What?!” I exclaim, turning a circle but not finding them anywhere. “Son of a bitch,” I whisper harshly. That’s it. I’m done with them. I’m a dog chasing my tail and I’m ready to concede defeat to the tail.

  Jax laughs and takes my arm lightly, pulling me forward with him in the line.

  “Why don’t you wait with me and I’ll go with you to help find them. Once I…” he gestures to the line and the bathroom and the implications that lie therein. “You know. Unless that’s weird. Is it weird to ask you to wait in line for me to pee?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll do it.”

  He looks pleased as he slips his hands into his pockets. “So how are you liking Oktoberfest?”

  “It’s been good. Really good.”

  “When you aren’t babysitting?”

  “Yeah. Like right now, this is cool.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “The line to the men’s room is cool?”

  “Cooler than watching my friend vomit into a garbage can. I could do without this music though,” I point to a nearby speaker. “I think I preferred the yodeling earlier.”

  “You should hear German rap.”

  “Is it good?”

  “No, it’s crap.”

  I laugh. “Then why would I want to hear it?”

  He smiles. “To get the full experience.”

  “Pass.”

  We move forward in line again, almost to the front—to the point where I can smell the room. I don’t envy him going in there.

  “What about you?” I ask. I’m looking up at him and really liking the way his face is lit by the glow of the white lights and bright neon signs. “How are you liking Oktoberfest?”

  “It’s been fun. I’m a little burnt out on it, actually. We got here on Friday.”

  “Wow, you’ve been here three days?”

  “Yeah. We thought it would be cool but I was getting bored.”

  “Have you already ridden the Ferris wheel?”

  “No. I’m afraid of heights.”

  “Then why did you want to go on it with us?”

  He doesn’t answer but he glances at me with a shy grin. I’m not dumb, I get it, and suddenly I’m blushing again.

  Two hours later Jax has an empty bladder and we’ve exchanged our vitals:

  Jax is the youngest in a family full of four brothers and one sister.

  I’m twenty-two, Jax is twenty-one.

  Jax is a gamer, I’m a reader.

  I grew up on the West Coast, Jax grew up on the East.

  Jax likes cats, I like dogs.

  After all we’ve talked about so far, this (his affinity for felines) is the biggest red flag I can find on the guy. Discovering a guy who is good-looking, insanely likeable, and normal is almost freakier than if he told me he liked collecting human teeth. It’s just not done. He’s a triple threat that scares me and makes me want to hug his mother for all her hard work.

  When the festival begins to wind down and he offers to walk me to the train station, I can feel myself getting anxious. I don’t know what I’m hoping for here. I kind of want him to kiss me, but then again I don’t because I barely know him. But then again I do because I’ll probably never see him again. That alone—the prospect of never talking to him again—bothers the crap out of me. I don’t know what it is I want from this guy, but I know I want something. I’m attracted to him, sure, but I also just plain like him. I like talking to him, like listening to him, and if he told me right now that he was gay and a relationship was out of the question, it wouldn’t stop me from wanting to get to know him better.

  I realize then that I don’t want that kiss. It would be jumping the gun on something that has the potential to be so much more than one faded memory of a crazy night in Munich. I don’t want him to become an ‘I remember this one time with this guy’ kind of story. I want him to be a ‘Do you remember that time’ kind of story, one where we reminisce about it together years from now because we’re still in each other’s lives.

  Be it as a boyfriend, a friend, or a heartbreak I can never shake, I know that Jax is going to be important in my world.

  When we reach the train station he pulls out his phone. “Give me one sec? I need to text my friends and tell them not to look for me. That I’ll meet them at the hotel.”

  “Are you asking me permission to use your own phone?”

  He grins. “I’m trying not to be rude.”

  I get it universe. He’s the shit.

  “Unreal,” I mutter.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I say quickly, waving my internal ramblings away. “Of course. Take your time.”

  While he texts his buddies, I search the platform and nearby streets for Ben and Mel. There are a lot of people milling around the area, but most of the crowd is either lying down on the ground passed out or getting there. I have a feeling this is where I’ll find them. I can only hope that even though they ditched me, they stayed together.

  “Do you see them?” Jax asks.

  “Not yet, but I think I’ll have to search.” I look down at his phone still in his hands, the tired look on his face. “If you want to get going I’ll be fine.”

  He shakes his head. “I’ll wait until you find your friends, at least. But then I do need to get going. I’m driving the first leg back tomorrow morning so I need to get some sleep.”

  “Okay, yeah. Thanks. Most likely they’re over here looking like hobos.”

  And they are. We find them not five minutes later—way too soon, in my book—huddled together on the ground. Ben is sitting with his back against the wall and Mel is sleeping with her head in his lap. Ben is awake and still drinking, the open container in his hand resting on Mel’s hip.

  “Look who finally decided to join us,” he says when he sees me. “You almost missed the train, young lady.”

  “How long have you guys been here?”

  “Over an hour.”

  “You ditched me at the bathrooms and did what? Came straight here? You should have told me.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “I hate you,” I sigh, exasperated.

  Ben chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink.

  I turn to Jax and put my hands up in mock excitement. “Found ’em. Yay!”

  He laughs. “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

  “I will never travel with them again.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. But now who are you going to travel with? You can’t go alone—what’s the fun in that?”

  I shrug. “I’ll have to make new friends, I guess.”

  “Or call me.”

  I smile. “Call you?”

  “Yeah.” He pulls out his phone again, taps it a few times, and hands it to me. “Or I can call you?”

  When I look down at his phone I see that he’s already created an empty contact listing with my name.

  “When did you…”

  “Right after I texted Haskins,” he says quietly, knowing what I’m asking. I look up at him to find his eyes on mine. “I wasn’t leaving here without your number, Wren.”

  “What if I refused to give it to you? How are your stalking skills?”

  He chuckles. “Are you saying no?”

  “No,” I reply firmly, quickly entering my number and my e-mail address into his phone before handing it back. “I’m definitely not saying no.”

 
“This is really adorable,” Ben says sarcastically.

  I glare at him over my shoulder. “Feel free to pass out or shut up.”

  “I might throw up.”

  “Whatever you do, do it silently.”

  “I—”

  “Shut up!”

  Suddenly the quiet terminal comes alive. A bell sounds to signal the approaching train and people are groaning as they rise from their slumber to get on board. I quickly search my pockets to make sure I have all of our tickets, relieved I took control of those early on. Ben wakes Mel and she grumbles and curses, but she gets up slowly. She leans into Ben’s side as he walks her to the train, never even looking to see if I’m there.

  “Well, have a safe drive back tomorrow,” I tell Jax.

  “I will, thanks. Make sure you stay awake enough to hear your stop. You don’t want to miss it and ride it to the end of the line.”

  “I’m a light sleeper, I’m good.”

  There’s an awkward moment where we look at each other for too long without saying or doing anything, neither of us willing to walk away yet. Finally I step forward, up onto my toes, and I wrap my arms around his neck for a quick hug. He doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace and I feel like I’m melting in his arms. My cold skin is thawed by the wide expanse of his chest against mine and the weight of his hands on my back.

  When I pull away and step toward the train, we’re both grinning.

  “Bye, Jax.”

  “See you later, Wren.”

  Chapter Four

  I’m at the desk in my room staring at a calculus problem wondering how this will ever help me out in a business situation. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life just yet, but I am absolutely certain it won’t involve calculus.

  “Are you busy?” Mel asks, her head suddenly popping into my doorway.

  I slam my book closed, glad for the distraction. “Not anymore. What’s up?”

  She bursts into the room, hugging me in my chair and bouncing both of us around roughly.

  “What the hell is happening?” I ask, my teeth clacking together.

  “Ben and I had sex!”

  “What? When?”

  “Just now.”

  “Ew,” I say, pushing her away.

  She frowns down at me. “Did you say ‘ew’?”

  “Did you just hug me post sex with Ben? Then yeah, I said ew.”

  “Wren!”

  “Mel! You’re probably coated in his juices. Go take a shower. Take a couple of showers.”

  “You’re acting like Ben is gross.”

  “Ben is not gross, but Ben is a man-whore. Please tell me that you used a condom.”

  “Of course we used a condom. What am I? Stupid?”

  “You just slept with Ben, so—”

  “Stop, don’t,” she warns me, backing up a step. “I’ll only get mad. I thought you’d be happy for me. I really like him.”

  “Which is why I’m worried.”

  Her face falls slightly. “You don’t think he likes me?”

  “I think he absolutely does. I also think he likes the girl down the hall with the cello, the girl who works at the coffee shop down the street, the girl he met at the bar two nights ago. I could go on.”

  “Don’t.”

  I soften my tone. “I’m not trying to rain on your parade. I know you like him, I just hope you’re being realistic. He’s not looking to be tied down. If you guys slept together, that’s probably it.”

  “You don’t think he’ll want to sleep with me again?”

  I don’t, but I don’t say it.

  “I have no idea,” I lie. “But I think if he does, it won’t mean you’re getting serious. You know what it’ll mean.”

  “Fuck Buddy,” she says faintly, sitting down hard on the bed.

  I nod. “Sleeping with him just this once, you can probably get away with never doing it again and staying friends. It’ll take some time and some pretending it never happened because he’s going to see you as an emotional land mine right now. He’ll probably avoid you.”

  “Ugh,” she groans, burying her face in her hands.

  “Is he worth staying friends with?”

  “I don’t want to just be friends with him.”

  “Don’t start that,” I tell her, my tone becoming hard. “You know how he is. You knew when you slept with him. You tried to use sex to make something deeper and it never works.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong, though,” she says, the hope in her words not reaching her voice.

  “You mean maybe you’re different? You’re the exception? He’s changing his ways for you?”

  Mel scowls at me. “I feel like you don’t believe any of that.”

  “Do you?”

  “Dammit,” she curses, knowing I’m right. “You really think he’ll stop talking to me now?”

  “Does he still talk to the waitress at the pub?”

  “Ugh,” she groans again, falling back on the bed. “What do I do?” she asks the ceiling.

  “Whatever you want, but don’t expect too much. If he’s not going to give you what you want, don’t give him what he wants. Walk away.”

  She’s silent for a long time. I actually contemplate starting up my homework again. My e-mail notification beeps on the computer, sounding loud in the quiet room. It seems to wake Mel up.

  “I think I want to stay friends with him,” she finally says, sounding less than sure.

  “You’d rather be his friend than nothing, but what you really want is to be dating him.”

  “Basically, yes. Is that pathetic?”

  “No. It’s honest. And tough. You’ll have to watch him flirt with other girls.”

  She scoffs, sitting up. “How is that any different than before?”

  “You hadn’t slept with him before. You’re emotionally involved now.”

  “And he’s not,” she grumbles.

  “No more than he was before. Probably less.”

  “Ouch.”

  I shrug. “If you wanted sugarcoating, you wouldn’t have come to me. You know better.”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna go take that shower now,” she says softly, heading out the door with way less spring in her step than when she came in.

  “Don’t call him!” I yell at her back.

  “I won’t.”

  But she will. I know her and I know how she feels about Ben. This is going to get worse before it gets better.

  I turn to my laptop to check my e-mail. I’m guessing it will be something from my mom, my sister, or my teacher reaching through the ether to tell me to get my ass back to work. I could use that kind of message right about now.

  I stare at the sender name, frowning for a second because it looks like spam.

  kenneth.jackson@ramstein.af.mil

  Then it hits me: it’s from Jax.

  “No shit,” I whisper to myself, my heart somersaulting in my chest before it starts racing. It’s been two weeks since I met him at Oktoberfest and I haven’t heard a word from him. I passed the point of expecting to hear anything from him five days ago, annoyed but resigned. Now excitement is alive again in my blood as I open his message.

  It’s one line. Very short. Very strange.

  Want to go to a lunatic’s mansion?

  -Jax

  “What the hell does that mean?” I mumble to myself.

  Will they know I’m there?

  -Wren

  I gnaw on my fingernail waiting to see if I get an instant answer. I smile when I do.

  I doubt it. He’s dead.

  -Jax

  How does a dead lunatic afford a mansion and I can’t afford a cell phone?

  -Wren

  Because he was a king.

  -Jax

  King of what?

  -Wren

  You’ll have to take the tour to find out. Are you in?

  -Jax

  I’m still smiling. I’ve been doing it since I realized the message was from him.

  It’s official: I’m in tr
ouble.

  When and where?

  -Wren

  This weekend. Bus leaves the base at 7am.

  -Jax

  I hiss through my teeth. Damn, that’s early. I know that his base is an hour away driving straight there, but without a car I’m going to have to get there with public transport. Train or bus. That will take longer because I’ll be sticking to someone else’s schedule and making connections. The worst part is, I don’t do mornings.

  I’m trying to think of a nice way of telling him sorry but no can do while also wondering if seeing this guy again isn’t worth the hassle after all when I get another e-mail.

  I’ll pick you up, if that’s okay. 5:30am?

  -Jax

  That means you’ll have to leave your base at 4:30am to come get me. That’s insane.

  -Wren

  No, this king was insane. Getting up before the dawn to spend the day with you? That’s worth it.

  -Jax

  I laugh, blushing in an empty room.

  Your lines are getting better.

  -Wren

  I’ve been practicing on trannies.

  -Jax

  You tease.

  -Wren

  Is it a yes? Are you in?

  -Jax

  I am so in.

  I hesitate before hitting send, wondering how to ask what I don’t want to ask but I definitely want to know: is this a date? Feeling like an idiot, I quickly add, Is this an adult excursion or should I bring one of my children?

  -Wren

  I send the message before I can chicken out. The question is so obvious. He’ll know what I’m asking and I feel like a loser but I can’t take it back now. It takes a while for him to respond. I worry he’s gone home for the day. Then I expect him to be writing an opus. I worry I’m going to get some long e-mail about how he just came out of a relationship and he doesn’t want to get involved like that right now. Or that he has a girlfriend back home and this was a mistake. Or worse, he has a girlfriend back home and he doesn’t think this is a mistake at all. I loathe, hate, and despise cheaters so the thought of Jax being one leaves me cold. I really like this guy. I’d hate to have to hate him.