by Nola Marie
He props up on an elbow, looking at me with frustration. “What’s the problem, Josie?” I feel myself turning redder by the second. “Are you a virgin, Josie?”
I want the floor to swallow me whole as I give a nod.
“It’s no big deal, Josie,” he tells me as he comes to stand next to me. “It’s just sex.”
I blow out a breath. “I just don’t think now is the best time,” I tell him.
He runs a finger up my side. A chill breaks out over my body as I fight the urge to flinch. “Next weekend, you and I can go to my parents’ house up in Tahoe. Just the two of us. We’ll make it special.”
“I – I don’t know,” I stammer.
“Come on, Babe. It’ll be fun and we won’t do anything you don’t want.”
Every instinct tells me this is a bad idea. That I need to tell him no or come up with some reason I can’t go.
But I don’t. I nod my head in agreement. “Yeah. Okay. Next weekend.”
My phone rings again with its generic provider tone drawing me from the memory. I answer, again, without checking the ID, assuming it’s Eden again. “You are such a bitch sometimes,” I yell into the phone as I wipe viciously at the tears that won’t stop. At this point, I’ve drawn more than a few stares.
“Josephine?” I hear a sweet voice question on the other end.
I squeeze my eyes shut and look up to the cold, winter sky. Why are these guys starting a tour in this miserable weather? Around the holidays? Thanksgiving is in two week and Christmas, of course, after that.
“Josephine are you there?”
“I’m here beautiful,” I finally answer trying to hide the crack in my voice. “Sorry for snapping at you. I thought you were Eden.”
“Ooh. Are you two fighting?” she giggles like the typical teenaged drama queen she is.
“Just a disagreement. Why are you calling me right now? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I am. We are at lunch, but I wanted to call and tell you happy birthday,” she chirps.
“It’s not my birthday,” I laugh weakly. “You know that.”
“No. It is next week though. After today, I’m probably going to be grounded,” she tells me.
“What have you done now?” I ask nervously.
“Nothing that bad,” she exasperates. I can practically hear the eye roll. “But I couldn’t let them die.”
“You didn’t?” I cover my mouth to stop the laughter from bubbling out of me. I can’t encourage her. I shouldn’t anyway.
“Oh, I did.” I can tell she is grinning widely. “All two hundred fifty of them released to the pond.”
“Oh my God Lily,” I laugh as I turn around to go back inside but hit a wall of cement.
Except it isn’t a wall or cement. It’s six feet two inches of tan, hard muscle. “You’re talking to my sister?” he asks in surprise.
“Is that Angel?” Lily practically screeches in my ear. “Are you friends again?”
“Not exactly,” I tell her as I stare into his pale eyes, praying he can’t tell I’ve been crying.
“I don’t care. Give him the phone.”
I don’t know what else to do but hand him the phone. He takes it without looking away from me. The eye contact between the two of us is intense. It sends shivers down my spine. “Why aren’t you in school, Lil?” he asks sternly.
I watch as he listens to her probably telling him the same story. His steel-colored eyes bore into mine and god help me I can’t look away. He keeps his face stony, but I can see the amusement he’s trying to hide flashing in those silver orbs and his lips twitch.
“No. We’re not friends,” he tells her. An unexpected pang stabs my chest. I rub the place absently in an attempt to ease the pain. “We’re just working together for a little while.”
Another pause comes as I hear her high pitch voice fill the space. “Go back to class, Lil,” he tells her with a softer tone. She says something else that makes his brows furrow in confusion. “Her birthday isn’t until next week.”
I feel myself flush. I had no doubt he remembered my birthday but that he was so quickly aware that it’s next week like he’s been thinking about, definitely catches me off guard.
“Love you too, Lil,” he tells her then hands me my phone back.
I accept it from him then move to go around him. “You still talk to Lily?”
“Of course, I do,” I answer a bit sarcastically.
“When was the last time you saw my parents, Josie?” he asks suspiciously.
Guilt, for the first time, runs through me as he continues to focus on my face – my eyes. His eyes are peering into my soul. Searching for answers he’s been denied – or at least he claims so.
I swallow hard to find my words. I try hard to concentrate on keeping my voice firm, unwavering. I choke back the guilt I shouldn’t even have. “I saw your mom for Fourth of July and your dad and the boys at Labor Day,” I answer him.
“I was at my dad’s for Labor Day,” he grinds out.
“I know,” I tell him as I struggle to keep my resolve. Resolved that has never wavered until now. I blame Camilla and Eden.
“I didn’t see you there,” he says with both doubt and frustration.
“You wouldn’t have,” I raise my chin. I made sure of it. It was also the last time I saw my parents. The next week, everything went to hell. Two weeks after that, I packed my things and left Los Angeles. “I made sure you were gone before I arrived.”
“So, it really is just me you’ve ghosted for a fucking decade,” he says through clenched teeth.
I don’t respond. I’m tired of explaining. I begin moving again.
He grabs my arm just as I get around him. “What the fuck did I ever do to you Josie?”
“I’ve already told you, Angel. It’s not my fault you haven’t been listening.”
“I’ve listened,” he continues angrily. “I just don’t have a fucking clue what you are talking about. I don’t deserve this shit. I never did.”
I pull my arm from his grip. “You haven’t given me a thought in years Angel, so why bother now?”
He shakes his head with a dark chuckle then turns away from me. He takes two steps before he stops. “You are a goddamned idiot if you believe that, Josie. Seeing you wouldn’t be so damn hard if that were true, but just so we are clear, I’ve thought about you every day for twenty-eight years.”
He’s says all of it without looking back then continues on his way as if he never said a word, leaving me standing there flushed with confusion.
Angel
Song
If You Only Knew
Jacksonville. Finally, weather that doesn’t make my dick and balls hide. Eighty degrees and sunny warm beaches are exactly what I need to thaw my icy demeanor.
I’ve been a real killjoy since Philadelphia. Josie has me in knots. She’s had me in knots for years. It’s so much worse now.
When I caught her on the phone with Lily, at first, I was thrown off by the fact she’d been crying but I was more than a little shocked she was on the phone with my little sister. For whatever reason, I always assumed when she cut me off, she cut off my entire family. Naïve and arrogant as it may be, I never imagined she was still going to my mother’s house. The same house we spent many hours together. It never once occurred to me that she was attending functions with my father, stepmom, and two younger half-brothers. I damn sure didn’t think she and Lily were so close that Lily would call her from school.
Maybe it should make me feel better. It should be a good thing that she continued to stay close to my family. Why wouldn’t she when our parents were so close. Right?
But it doesn’t make me feel better. It knocked a fucking hole right through me. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that it made the hole she put there all those years ago even bigger. Which I never thought possible.
And she honestly thinks I haven’t thought about her all these years. I loved her for too damn long to stop thinking about her al
together, but even if I hadn’t loved her, we were friends. That alone would warrant the occasional nostalgia.
I have been broodier and moodier than usual since that conversation. I’m also trying to be reflective and shit. I’m trying to understand what happened all those years ago and see them from her perspective. It is something I did when it all happened, but I’ve been hoping that maturity would help me see things a little clearer.
It hasn’t by the way. I understand as much now as I did when I was eighteen. Josie says she’s been trying to tell me, but I have no idea what the hell she’s been talking about.
There is someone who can tell me though. We’ve been friends for years. Although, I’m pretty sure that’s not something that is intended to get out. The one thing we haven’t talked about is Josie. Or should I say the one thing I’ve never been able to get answers about. I’m thinking it’s time to end that cycle.
But first things first. Sunrise, beaches, and surf call my name. It’s been the one constant all these years that has helped me get out of my head. Moving to New York has made it a bit more difficult to put my favorite place and pastime to use, but today I’m in Florida and it’s calling me.
It’s nearly 5:30 in the morning when the bus pulls into the parking lot. Sleep and I haven’t had the greatest relationship lately, so I’m wide awake when we pull into the parking lot. I’m okay with that today. It means I can watch the sunrise over the Atlantic.
When the bus stops, the guys start falling out of their bunks with groans. They grumble as they take turns heading for the bathroom then for the coffee. “Couldn’t sleep?” Ryder asks as he grabs a cup and places it under the machine.
“I don’t think that’s a thing anymore,” I admit.
Sleep has been elusive for me for years. Since the night I saw Josie at the diner, it’s practically nonexistent. She has always been on my mind for as long as I can remember. It doesn’t matter that until a month ago, we haven’t seen each other in years. She has always been right there when I wake up and when I finally fall asleep.
It makes the fact that I didn’t immediately recognize her that night at the diner pretty shitty. I know I only saw her back, but that’s no excuse. She’s just changed so much, and my mind still thinks of the girl I knew.
I blame her for adding to my issues with women. My mother was the first. Erika the last. Except maybe none of that’s true. Yes, my mom cheating on my dad fucked with me like it would any kid. But maybe all of my issues can be laid at Josie’s feet alone. And maybe it’s not because she abandoned me and hurt me. Maybe it’s because I haven’t let her go. I’ve lied to myself, convinced myself I did even if her face would appear in my memories and mind, but I’ve never let go. I‘ve just focused it into anger. It’s easier to be angry than to hurt.
“What’s got you thinking so hard this morning?” Maddox drawls, looking at me over his steaming cup.
“Same shit,” I admit because there is absolutely no point in denying it anymore. Not to them. Not to myself.
He gives me a nod. “Come on,” he claps me on the shoulder. “Let’s go catch some waves.”
“Reports aren’t great,” Ryder remarks as he takes a big gulp of his coffee, “but we should be able to find a few small ones.”
“You guys have fun with that,” Dane mocks as he climbs back into his bunk. “I’m getting some more shut eye.”
“Or you could just try it,” Maddox taunts with a smirk.
“Fuck. You.” Dane grunts. We all laugh. We tried to teach him last year. To say it didn’t end well would be a massive understatement.
Sometimes it’s a little strange to think of Maddox and Ryder as surfers. I grew up on California beaches. Sometimes I think I could surf before I could walk. Maddox grew up in the south and Ryder in England – at least I assume that’s from where the accent comes. I imagine they spend a lot of their youth traveling over the world. I guess it could be just as easy to learn for them as it was for me.
Half an hour later, we’re suited up with our boards in tow. We stand in a line on the quiet, sandy beach looking out over the water as we contemplate where we want to paddle out. The report might not be great, but we see some promising waves.
“Check that out,” Ryder points to a girl riding a really decent swell.
All we can really see from here is a long tone body with a bikini a shade or two darker than the water she’s riding. “She looks great out there,” Maddox acknowledges in appreciation. Her form is damn near perfect. “Man, did you just see that layback.”
I just nod my head as I watch her maneuver her board in a way that shows years of experience. Her technique is flawless and graceful. She doesn’t look like she’s riding with the wave. She looks like she is part of the wave.
It’s everything I taught her and then some.
“That kick out is perfection,” Ryder praises with awe in his voice.
“Wonder who she is?” Maddox questions with the same awe.
“Josie,” I answer them without meaning to.
“How in the bloody hell could you possibly know that?”
“I just know.” My eyes never leave her.
She finally comes into clear view. My jaw nearly drops now that I can see her up close and wearing a skimpy bikini that no one should ever surf in. I realize now just how much her clothes have been covering.
Again, I’m bearing witness to how much she’s changed. When we were teenagers, she was skinny without an ounce of fat. She had an athletic build, but she avoided physical activity except surfing like it would give her hives.
The woman before me has abs, toned arms, and sculpted legs. I’m guessing she isn’t allergic to working out anymore because she didn’t get that sitting behind an architect’s desk. And those fucking tits. When the hell did those happen, I wonder yet again. Is that what was covered up with hoodies all those years? I bet they’d make fantastic pillows.
I may have kept my jaw from falling but I am struggling to keep my damn dick from rising.
“Fucking hell. Where has she been hiding all of that?” Ryder says with a raspy voice.
“I can’t begin to guess,” Maddox answers his rhetorical question.
A rumbling growl bubbles from my chest at their remarks. I have the urge to throw a blanket over her. Or punch them in the face.
“Relax,” Maddox chastises. “We know she’s your girl.”
I open my mouth to argue that she’s not my girl but the looks they give me have me choking on my denial because in my heart she is my girl. She has always been my girl. She will always be my girl.
But the goddess emerging from the brilliant blue-green sea the exact shade of her eyes is not a girl. She is every bit woman. Sensual and sexual. This is a crazy beautiful, insanely stunning woman that causes me pain, every time I look at her. Pain that is deep and relentless because she should’ve been mine. I should’ve been there to see this transformation from girl to woman. I should’ve been there to see her become who she is now.
I am realizing more and more that I am the goddamn idiot that let her push me away. I should have fought for her. I should’ve shoved my way into her house. Snuck into her room. Chased her down in the school hallways and parking lots. I should’ve stayed the fuck away from Erika after that night instead of letting her plant herself next to me. I should have been stronger instead of wallowing in my self-pity over my family falling apart and losing my best friend. A best friend that I let slip away because I was hurt and angry and immature and insensitive and -.
Wait. She wasn’t innocent in all of this. I try to remind myself as I work to get my vulnerability in check and my walls back in place.
Who the fuck cares anymore? Another part of me argues. My head versus my heart. My pride and ego at war with need and desire. The endless cycle I’ve struggled with since – God I’m not even sure when my thoughts toward Josie changed from platonic and friendly to – not.
I suppose it was when all girls started being the more fascinating of the t
wo sexes. Even though I started noticing all girls, it was Josie that captured my attention. Looking back, I suppose most people would’ve assumed it was because we were already so close. I know different. If that were the case, these fucking feelings would’ve faded a long damn time ago.
It had everything to do with her. Her heart that was huge, kind, and giving beyond reason. The parts of her she kept hidden because she was afraid no one would accept it. It was in the way she denied everything I knew she wanted because she was trying desperately to live up to her parents’ expectations. It was the way she wouldn’t give up when the bullies came at her. She didn’t change who she was to make them feel better. She continued to be her cute, quirky self that always had her nose in a book. It made her insecure and self-conscious, but she never changed it. And why should she have needed to? It was the dumbest reason for anyone to give her a hard time.
It was the way she knew me. She knew the dark, depressing thoughts that would consume me. The way she would take care of me when I sneaked into her room wasted on whatever I’d found that night. She saw the anger and rage. She would listen as I would rail and roar and scream about my parents and my life then hug me until I calmed down.
As she gets closer, a roar begins to form in my ears. When her eyes lock on mine, my heart begins to race as more blood begins to rush south. Her eyes search mine. Mine search hers. I can’t say for certain what she sees in mine, but I have a feeling it’s the same I see in hers. An internal struggle. A battle I’ve already admitted defeat in but she’s still fighting. The battle where she continues to convince herself that what she feels for me is hate. That the hate is fueled by anger. She’s not ready to admit it is not hate that she feels. It’s love, just as it’s always been, and that love is fueling pain.
It’s easier to hate than to hurt.
I don’t know how to help her with her feelings. How could I when I don’t even know what to do with my own?
Finally, I’m left with no choice. I have to break the eye contact. I have to stop this silent battle between us because it’s tearing me to shreds and it is shattering her pieces into a million more.
