Knee Deep

by Jolene Perry

  “Don’t let that chicken burn,” Dad warns Luke as he pulls Mom closer. “Because I won’t be paying attention for the next few minutes.” His eyes never waver from hers.

  “No, sir!” Luke laughs as he picks up the tongs.

  Their noses touch and their eyes close.

  I slide my hand across Shawn’s back. In twenty-some years that could be us, dancing in the backyard, faces close, still as much in love as we are now. I glide my fingers through the back of his dark hair.

  “Your parents are so weird,” he whispers, as he turns toward me.

  “I think it’s sweet.” I watch them across the pool and wonder how anyone wouldn’t want that.

  Paul picks Mindy up and places her on her feet. His grin should tide her over ‘til tomorrow. That boy’s thrilled to be where he is. He lets her keep her distance so that even though she’s standing next to him in her swimsuit, she doesn’t look uncomfortable at all. Actually she probably has more power to make him uncomfortable. I’m glad for her. It’s always nice for Shawn and I when our friends have dates.

  Shawn stands up and wanders into my house, probably looking for another soda. And even though he’s had a hand on me all afternoon, he walks away at the one time when I want to be touched. I feel a little hurt that I’m one of three couples in the backyard and I’m not dancing.

  I force out a breath. This train of thought isn’t going to do me any good, and is probably just me entertaining little girl fantasies. I swing my legs off the side of my chair and join Luke at the grill.

  “I’m jealous of your parents.” He flips over a piece of chicken.

  “We all should be,” I say. I stretch my pale, freckly arms out in front of me wondering if there will ever be a time when I like my skin.

  His eyes hit mine, filled with questions. Right. I shouldn’t be jealous because I have Shawn.

  “I don’t ever remember mine being like that.” His eyes go back to the food.

  “How’s your dad doing?” I ask.

  Luke’s parents split when we were about fourteen, and Luke was pretty wild for a while. He spent more time drinking, smoking and skipping school than most pothead seniors do. He started to pull out of it at the beginning of junior year, and I think Shawn coming back into town around Christmas really helped him finish getting back on track.

  “Okay. Busy like always.” Luke shrugs.

  “Good.” Now I’m not sure what else to say. “Mindy said that she…”

  “I didn’t hurt her feelings, did I?” He gestures toward her subtly with his chin. “She seems to be doing fine.” He smirks.

  “Yeah, she was okay with it.” The whole thing made me feel all crazy but I survived, and it’s not something I’m going to bring up.

  “Gonna try for the play this year?” he asks. “I saw you talking to Mr. Blackman the other day.”

  I suck in a breath. Perfect. Subject change. “I’ve always wanted to, and now it’s like, senior year, so it seems like I’m about to lose my opportunity.”

  “You should. It’s fun. I’m in again this year.” He shrugs.

  “It just doesn’t seem like a Luke thing to do.” I chuckle.

  “And what does?” His golden brown eyes find mine.

  “I don’t know.” Making out with hot girls at the beach maybe? But I guess he’s mellowed out a bit and that’s not a fair thing to say anymore.

  “They’re a pretty non-judgmental group of people. Since I seem to be able to hang with whoever I want, they’re a good group.” He pokes the meat with Dad’s tongs just like Dad does.

  “You’re funny.” Everyone likes Luke, why would he worry about fitting in anywhere?

  “I’m taking Aubrey out this weekend.” He sighs.

  “Don’t sound so excited,” I tease.

  His weight shifts and he begins to flip over the chicken pieces. “She’s nice, but it was like she kept hinting, and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just asked her out. It was almost as awkward as Mindy, and I’m still not sure why I said I’d go.”

  I shake my head. “You have absolutely no idea that almost every girl in our school would love a chance to go out with you.”

  “Almost ?” He tries to tease, but I can tell by his tone and how his brows go up that he’s also a bit surprised by my comment.

  “Well, some of us are already occupied.” I wink.

  Just then, Shawn’s arms come around me from behind. “What are you two doing over here?”

  “Sweating over the grill so you can eat.” Luke points the tongs at Shawn, chuckling.

  “Whatever, man.” Shawn pulls me back with him. “Let’s jump in.”

  “I don’t know—” But I don’t get a chance to finish before Shawn and I are airborne and hit the water together.

  I play along and laugh because the attention from him is always good, but I just dried off and have a hard time pushing the irritation away.

  Dad takes over at the grill. Mindy, Paul and Luke all sit on the edge of the pool with their feet in while Shawn and I float.

  Luke’s eyes are the first thing I see when I get out, sending something like tingles straight through me. I pull in a breath and look away. I have to be misreading the way he’s looking at me. It’s Luke. My friend Luke.

  Shawn takes my hand and finds me a chair in the shade so we can eat comfortably. Mom’s on Dad’s lap. Mindy and Paul sit close, and Shawn’s hand rests over my shoulder, making me wonder how he’ll manage to eat his dinner. Luke’s eyes don’t meet mine again. I know the look from him was just odd timing, but he suddenly seems kind of alone. I guess I hope he and Aubrey get along. She seems nice. But at the same time, I have yet to meet a girl who’s good enough for Luke.

  ~ 4 ~

  “I’m the understudy for Juliet!” I throw my arms around Shawn and our chests hit, knocking the breath from me in my excitement. I’m sort of in disbelief that my name will be part of the production at all.

  He leans his face back just far enough to catch my eyes, and cocks a brow. “Isn’t that kind of like telling you that you don’t have a part?”

  My arms drop and I feel a pang in my chest. I know I shouldn’t be hurt because he doesn’t understand the theater stuff, but his words sting just the same. This is something I’m excited about. I don’t give a crap about amps and watts and speakers, but I sit and talk with him when he wants to.

  “Not at all. She definitely has a part.” Luke rests his arm on Shawn’s shoulder—warping the face of his Cookie Monster t-shirt. “She’s never done theater before and all the other girls who tried out for it have. It’s a big deal.”

  I’m glad Luke understands; maybe he’ll make sure Shawn does too.

  Shawn shakes his head. “I can’t believe you two are going to make me hang out with a bunch of theater geeks.”

  “If it’d make you feel better, Ronnie and I could just leave you behind.” Luke smirks and pretends to reach for my arm.

  “Hands off my girl, punk.” Shawn pushes him away with a smile. “Where’s Cris?”

  How does Shawn not know this? My heart sinks at the look on Luke’s face.

  “We…uh, broke up.” He shrugs, but his face holds something else. Guess he really did like her.

  “Wow, I thought you were like, tight.” Shawn makes a motion with his hips.

  Could he be more insensitive? I slap his chest with the back of my hand. “Seriously? Is that all you boys think about?”

  “No. Yes.” Shawn’s head wobbles back and forth. “Mostly, yeah.” And then his dark eyes hit mine like there’s nothing he’d rather look at. He brushes a few stray strands off my face, sending butterflies dancing in every direction. “But only cause I love you so much.” His mouth meets mine so softly, so easily, that I can’t stop kissing him. Waves of happy tingles move through me, as I melt against him. This is me and Shawn at our best.

  “Oh-kay.” Luke chuckles. “That’s my sign to get lost.”

  I try to pull away to wave goodbye, but my lips, face, and body are oth
erwise occupied, which feels about perfect.

  ***

  My head rests on the warmth of Shawn’s chest as we lie on his twin bed watching a movie where everything blows up. I generally don’t care what we watch because we can be like this, snuggled together in his room, which is my favorite thing in the world to do. One arm rests around my waist while the fingers on his other hand play with small strands of my hair. Everything is warm, soft and comfortable.

  The front door slams and Shawn jumps. “Shit.” He sits up fast, his whole body taut. “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know, like ten?” I slowly sit up, resting on my hands behind me, and mourning the loss of warmth.

  “Diane!” His dad’s voice is sharp. Hard.

  My heart jumps and starts running a marathon.

  Shawn leans forward and locks his door, now facing directly away from me. His eyes don’t meet mine. He grabs the remote and turns up the TV. I can no longer make out his dad’s words, but the anger is there—seeping under Shawn’s door, through the walls, making my chest tighten. My dad has never talked to my mom that way, not even when they argue.

  What’s going on? The only thing I hear above the TV is my heart thumping in my ears.

  I touch Shawn’s arm, and it’s like I’ve released him from a vice—his body slumps forward, elbows on knees. “Dad’s been stressed. You know, since we moved.” The words come out in a mumbling rush.

  I slide up behind him on the bed, wrap my arms and legs around his waist, and kiss the back of his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” This is what I can do, the only thing I can think of to do.

  His arms tighten over mine, and we just sit. His dad’s voice is louder than the TV at several points, but neither of us says anything. I just keep my arms and legs tight, as he sits still and lets me hold him. My body’s tense. I jump occasionally at a particularly loud outburst, and all I hope is that he doesn’t come knocking on the door. I hold Shawn tighter.

  No wonder he’s been so weird, so stressed, so tight. Who wouldn’t be? There are a million questions running through my head.

  Does this happen often?

  Is your Mom okay? She’s out there with him alone.

  Does he yell at you?

  Are you scared?

  Why didn’t you tell me?

  Does Luke know?

  Does anyone know?

  How long has this been going on?

  My arms wrap even tighter as the questions pour through me. We’re left with nothing but the noise of the TV.

  The yelling seems to have stopped. We sit. We wait. And wait. My face is still pressed into his back, and our arms and hands are laced together across his stomach.

  Shawn turns sideways to face me. “This isn’t like, normal or anything, okay?” But his face looks broken.

  “Okay.” I pull on him until he’s close enough so I can kiss his cheek. And as much as my heart aches for him, I’m also relieved there’s an explanation for his weird behavior. Because this is it. This has to be it. Who wouldn’t be stressed with something like this going on in their world?

  “He just gets moody once in a while.” He shakes his head and attempts a smile.

  I guess we’re making light of it. Okay. “Kinda like his son, huh?” I tease.

  His brows pull down and his jaw flexes. “I’m not like my dad.”

  My heart jumps again, but I know I just need to sound relaxed. “I always thought your dad was pretty cool.” I shrug. “Everyone has off days.” Not like the yelling man in the next room, but I keep that to myself. Maybe if I can play this off as ‘no-big deal,’ it won’t be. With the look on Shawn’s face, I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants.

  “Please don’t say anything.” He rests his forehead against mine and runs a hand over my head and down my back.

  I tilt my head to press our lips together. “Love you, Shawn.” This is all so foreign, and real. But if I can pretend that it’s okay, maybe Shawn can too. I’ll just need to work a little harder to make sure his life away from all this is as relaxed as possible.

  “Love you.” His arms come around me, almost crushing me against him.

  But what am I supposed to do with this information? It’s like I’ll burst if I can’t tell someone, but I know I can’t. Not right now. And then another thought hits me. Is he this way with Shawn? What does he mean by not normal ? Does it happen often? Does he stop at yelling? I’m not sure about any of it, but I know it makes me scared. I was scared, and I sat with Shawn in front of me behind a locked door. What’s it like when he’s here by himself?

  ***

  Mindy and I sit on the very pink, plush floor of her room, the music hopefully loud enough to drown out our voices so her parents won’t hear.

  “I have an unexpected first to add to the notebook,” Mindy announces.

  My eyebrows rise. “Did you sleep with a wrestler? Because I don’t think our book needs to be a play-by-play of our romantic encounters.” I smirk.

  “And yours would be almost empty.” She smirks back.

  I look down. Weight settles in my chest. From Shawn I get the teasing. But from Mindy?

  “Crap, Ronnie. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it.” She bumps my shoulder with hers.

  “It’s true. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I’m sure I’m just being stupid and overly romantic about the whole thing.

  She bites her lip as if she’s about to say something, but keeps it to herself.

  I’m relieved. “Your first…?” Time to get back to Mindy.

  “Made out in the boy’s locker room.” She giggles.

  Giggling. That’s good. Better than me thinking about Shawn’s dad, or how weird I must be for not wanting to have sex with my boyfriend. “Doesn’t it smell in there?” I ask. Not to mention no privacy, and just…gross. And as crazy as it is, I’m actually preferring to think about the smelly boys’ locker room than our last topic.

  “Why yes it does.” She laughs. “He grabbed me and dragged me in there after school, both of us were laughing, and then it was like we were alone in this room and we weren’t laughing anymore, and it makes me all happy just to think about it.”

  “Great, Mindy.” I shake my head, partially feeling like I just indulged a five year old with their favorite snack. “You can add it.”

  “I will.” She sits up tall and smug, taking the notebook from my grasp.

  “Nothing for me.” I sigh, yet another weight settling on me. “Like always.” I certainly can’t add in my night with Shawn and his screaming father. It’s still too crazy. Heavy.

  “I didn’t mean it, Ronnie. I just…if you’ve been together this long and you don’t really want to, what does that say?”

  “That I’m really cautious? That I’m just not ready?” I offer. What does it say? Am I that strange? Different? Will we get to a point where Shawn gets tired of waiting? Then I take a deep breath in, sliding my fingers over the bracelet he gave me the night he moved back. No. And this is the awesome part of being with someone like him. We’re solid. He loves me. Everything we do will happen when we both want it to. Shawn and I have forever.

  ***

  I step into the school’s theater for my first day of rehearsal. A sea of blue theater chairs fan out in front of me toward the stage. The soft yellow stage lights are on, reflecting only slightly on the black stage.

  My eyes scan the group already congregated. I recognize most of the people here, but not all. Like most of the time I’m in a long dress, and the fabric swishes around my ankles as I hold it up to climb onto the stage. I stare at my feet and then at the lights above, mostly because I’m not sure where I should be, and don’t want to sit in the wrong spot or next to the wrong person, or…

  “Ronnie.” Luke grins and waves me over.

  I take the spot next to him as Blackman walks the room, handing us each a script. I’ve already read and re-read the play, but this is the edited version. Shakespeare’s version is too long for a high school play.

  “We’ll be pe
rforming this in the correct dress of the day, per Master William’s instructions.” He gives us all a smile. He’s a tall thin man, like a string bean, but when he’s on the stage, like he is now, he looks even taller and thinner. He sports a small mustache—giving him the nickname Hitler—even though he’s one of the nicest teachers in school.

  “Let’s find a comfy spot, circle up, and do a read-through.” He drops to a cross-legged sitting position, and we all follow suit forming a wobbly large circle on the well-worn, black painted boards of the stage.

  Again, the number of blue seats stretching outward from the stage hollows out my chest, making me afraid of the staring faces that will occupy them—even though the chances of me actually doing any performing are slim. It’s imposing but also powerful—even though no one’s here.

  He asks us to announce our roles one at a time. Luke is Romeo and Liesl is Juliet. Liesl’s a pretty, round-faced girl, with smooth blonde hair. Everyone knows her, because she does everything—student government, sports, theater, choir. The list is long. She and Luke will look great together. I wonder if she’ll be his next girlfriend.

  Each person gives their name and role, or job. A lot of them are here to help with costumes, sets, lighting, stage manager…things that I hadn’t given much thought to before now. I think only half are acting. This is somehow unexpected.

  Mr. Blackman chuckles. “That was fun. Luke and Liesl? You two both know the rules for playing opposite each other.”

  The group immediately breaks out into whispers. I’m lost, but the tension is thick, and I lean forward in anticipation.

  Luke’s cheeks begin to glow in this pinkish red color, which is something I’ve never seen.

  I’m biting my lower lip in anticipation.

  Luke sighs and lets his shoulders slump, but anyone could see he’s teasing. Liesl moves to sit in front of him like an old pro. Guess she knows what to expect.

  He leans forward, touches the bottom of her chin with his fingertips and kisses her softly, with a slight hesitation, right on the mouth. Shivers run down my spine—I wonder what it was like to be on the receiving end of that. I get warm and tingly just sitting next to him. No wonder Luke doesn’t have a hard time getting girls.