Crash

by Nicole Williams

  “Yeah, me neither,” I said, wiping the beads of pop off the champagne colored shiny material. “Obviously.”

  “Nothing’s obvious about you, Lucy Larson.”

  So those words, and that voice, very much got my attention now I wasn’t enraptured with pop removal. Even her voice was prettier than mine.

  Looking over my shoulder, there was Holly, wearing a dark pair of skinny jeans and a white tee shirt, looking down at me. I didn’t know whether to offer her a seat or bail into the lake and swim for the opposite shore. I didn’t know what she knew, if she knew anything at all about me and Jude, and I sure as hell didn’t want to round robin our relationships with Jude together.

  In the end, I decided to be civil. “Hey, Holly,” I said, “pull up a chair.”

  She’d obviously sought me out, this wasn’t some happenstance meeting, so she had something she needed to say. I wanted to get this out of the way so I could continue to fail at trying to move on with my life.

  She sat down, setting her red plastic cup to the side, and rolled up her jeans. “I thought I’d have a tough time getting you alone,” she said, dipping her feet in the water and scooting closer. “I hear you’ve become Southpointe’s ‘it’ girl this year.”

  I didn’t want to think about who she’d heard that from.

  “If you mean ‘it’ girl in terms of the one who’s had more rumors and half-truths shot at me than an entire club of strippers, than yeah, I guess I did wear that sash this year.” I was sounding a little more defensive than I wanted, but I was having a conversation with the girl who my ex-boyfriend had a love child with. Defensive wasn’t as bad as it could be.

  She nodded, staring out into the lake. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to hand that crown over personally. My reign ended last year after I dropped out.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t ready to sympathize with her and I should have been able to emphasize, but I was coming up short in that department.

  “Is Jude here?” I asked, immediately wanting to whip myself for asking. If she didn’t already believe I was a desperate loser, that question just certified that presumption.

  “Not sure,” she said, taking a drink from her cup.

  “Home with the baby?” It was an honest question that came out sounding every kind of bitchy.

  “No,” Holly stiffened, her bright blue eyes flashing. “My mom’s babysitting tonight.”

  “Holly, I’m sorry,” I said, wishing now I had stayed inside so I wouldn’t be having this conversation from hell. “I’m not trying to be a bitch—”

  “It just comes naturally?” she filled in, giving me a fake smile.

  “I deserved that.”

  “Yep,” she agreed, taking another sip.

  We were silent for a while, for so long I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for me to say something or if she was having a tough time getting out what she wanted to say.

  So I blurted out something neither of us was expecting. “Is he a good dad?”

  She looked as surprised by my question as I was. “I’m sure he will be some day.”

  A nasty case of realization whip lash hit me. “Wait,” I said, turning towards Holly. “Did you just say some day, as in not present day?”

  She bit her lip, thinking something over. “I don’t know how much of this I should be the one to tell you, but—”

  “Tell me everything,” I interrupted, scooting closer. “Because no one else will.”

  She looked at me under her lashes. “That might be because you drew your own conclusions before asking questions.”

  I’d held the same breath now for a solid minute.

  “Are you ready to ask questions now?” she said, leaning back on her hand. “The right questions?”

  I nodded.

  “Ask away,” she said.

  Did I want to go down this road? Did I want to have assumptions confirmed or denied at this stage in the game? When a face eclipsed my thoughts, one with a long scar and silvery gray eyes, I had my answer. “Is Jude your baby’s dad?” Might as well get the first one out of the way.

  “No.”

  Oh my god. The guilt was as sudden as the relief. “Do you and Jude have some sort of relationship together?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, taking a sip. “He’s been my best friend since we were in first grade.”

  Again, I wanted to slap myself across the face at the same time I wanted to jump and holler for joy. “And that night I followed him to your place,” I said slowly, trying to process everything. “He brought diapers and formula and you guys hugged and you said you had big plans for him and you hugged.” I was reliving the scene, but seeing it with different eyes. Eyes that were less likely to draw conclusions without asking questions.

  “And I thought Jude had trust issues,” she muttered, looking at me like she kind of wanted to wring my neck. “I called him earlier that day because I was out of money and the baby was going to be out of food and diapers in about twelve hours if I was lucky. Jude’s been a support from the very beginning since little Jude’s real father wants nothing to do with him.”

  I swallowed, remembering the things I’d thought and the things I’d said to him that morning after. I understood why he ignored me the way he did now.

  “We hugged because, come on, we’ve been best friends our whole lives.” Holly was counting things off on her fingers, looking at me like this was a childish game. “The plans I had for him that night including fixing up a crib I’d found at a yard sale that day, and yes, he did stay the night,” she said, arching a brow. “On the couch, in case your jump-to-conclusions little mind’s already going there.”

  I let everything Holly’d just said sink in. “Why didn’t he tell me about you?” I whispered. “Why didn’t he deny everything when I approached him the next morning?”

  She dipped her toes in the water, skating them across the calm surface. “Because I asked him not to tell anyone about little Jude. He knows who the father is and the piece of shit father knows who he is, but I didn’t want anyone else to know the real reason I dropped out of school. The rumor spreaders at Southpointe would have had a field day with that juicy tidbit,” she said, smirking at the night. “And only Jude can speak for why he didn’t tell you the truth about us that morning. Maybe because you wouldn’t have believed it even if he did tell you.”

  All I could think about was the look in his eyes that morning I confronted him, telling him I trusted Sawyer over him. The pain and betrayal that darkened his face. “I’m the worst person in the world,” I said, more to myself than anything.

  “I thought that too that day Jude came to me, looking like you’d just pulled the heart out of his chest, and told me what happened,” she said, not looking at me.

  “I get it now,” I said. “I get why he hates me.” I deserved to be loathed.

  Holly chuckled; it was dark and throaty. “You really are a clueless bitch, Lucy,” she said, dumping the rest of her drink into the water. “Jude doesn’t hate you. That man, against everything he knows and I tell him, still loves you.”

  There was only one explanation. I’d just crossed into an alternate universe. “He still loves me?” I whispered.

  “Still and always will,” she said, shaking her head.

  I needed to get up and find Jude. I needed to apologize and beg his forgiveness and find out if what she was saying was true because, even though I’d tried to bury it six feet deep, I still loved him too.

  “Thank you, Holly,” I said, meeting her eyes.

  She lifted her shoulder, looking out into the lake. “I didn’t do this for you. I did it for him, so no need to feel all indebted to me.”

  I smiled at her—the girl I’d assumed was Jude’s lover, the girl who was, in fact, his best friend, and the girl who had set all the facts straight.

  “Holly,” I asked, setting my pop to the side. “Who is little Jude’s dad?”

  Her breath caught, like I’d caught her off guard. It wasn’t an
y of my business, and I was expecting her to tell me to go screw myself when she sighed.

  “Well, if it isn’t two of the most lovely ladies to have ever graced the halls of Southpointe High.”

  Sawyer’s voice cut down the dock, making me groan and Holly go all stiff and silent. The dock creaked beneath his feet as he came towards us, dressed in his standard flat front khakis and name brand polo.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, bending down to kiss me. His breath was rank with alcohol and cranberry juice. “And Miss Holly,” he said, staring down at her. “Always a pleasure to be in your company. How’s the little bastard,” he covered his mouth, his eyes amused, “I mean baby?”

  She bolted up, glowering at him. “You’ll never know as far as I’m concerned,” she said, shoving him to the side and jogging off the deck and disappearing into the crowd.

  “You might want to be mindful of who you hang around with, Lucy,” he said, sticking his drink free hand in his pocket. “Girls with her reputation don’t help girls with your old reputation.”

  “Sawyer, we graduate in a week. I’m not concerned about my reputation,” I said, getting up because I didn’t like the way he was looking down on me with that drunk smile. “And that was a shitty thing to say to Holly. Where do you get off calling her baby a bastard?”

  Raising his cup, he said, “Takes one to know one. It’s in the kid’s blood.” Taking a drink, he drained the cup and tossed it into the lake.

  “Nice,” I said, crossing my arms. “Aren’t you in fine form tonight?”

  “I’m just wound so damn tight, Lucy,” he said, pressing into me and tightening his arms around me, molding his hands around my ass. “I need a release.” Sliding my hair over my shoulder, he ran his lips over my collar bone. “And from the way you’re dressed for me tonight, something tells me you’re finally ready to help me with that.”

  “What the hell, Sawyer,” I said, shoving him away, harder than I’d planned, but not as hard as he deserved. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or my super human strength, but Sawyer stumbled back, right into the black lake.

  “Damn it, Lucy!” he yelled, kicking to the surface.

  “Have a nice swim,” I said, stomping down the dock.

  “Lucy! Get back here right now!” he yelled, making a raucous splashing through the water.

  “Have a nice life, jerk-off,” I said to myself, grabbing Taylor’s shoes and jogging for the house.

  The party had grown and it was now standing room only. People could be amazingly creative when there wasn’t a spare surface to spread over. I was about to grab Taylor from Morrison’s lap so I could get her home and tear the town apart looking for Jude when something too tempting to ignore jumped to mind.

  I wound, dodged, and leapt over bodies as I went up the stairs to the second floor. Sawyer’s room was at the end of the hall, probably the only room in the house that wasn’t being used since Sawyer had a key lock installed to keep parents out and horny teenagers from shagging on his bed when he threw these kinds of parties.

  However, as his girlfriend, he’d entrusted me with the location of where he kept the spare key, probably hoping I’d one day lock myself in there as a birthday surprise. I’d never been happier I’d said no to a good looking guy before.

  Getting on my knees, I crouched beneath the bench at the end of the hallway, sliding the key out of its location. Getting up, I turned the key over in the lock and shoved the door open.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” one of the defensive lineman slurred, staggering up to me.

  “Yeah,” I said, sliding behind the door. “I could never get that drunk.” Slamming the door shut, I locked it and ran to Sawyer’s bathroom. Standing in Sawyer’s room, fresh from dumping his sorry ass, I couldn’t recall what I’d seen in him. Surely something should pop to mind after spending almost six months with a guy, but there was nothing.

  Nothing but a stream of regrets and relief I’d figured it out sooner rather than later.

  I pulled the hand towel from the metal ring, sliding the bottom drawer of his bathroom sink open. I didn’t have to fumble around the mass of male hygiene products to find what I was looking for. It was right on top.

  Rushing out of the bathroom, I went to his desk and grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote my parting words. I wasn’t even trying to stifle my smile. I rolled up the towel before laying it down on the center of his bed, then propped the lubricant next to it, and stuck the note over the almost empty bottle. I stepped back, admiring my handiwork.

  Sawyer was going to lose it whenever he sobered up enough to read words again. I wished I could see the look on his face.

  I was turning to leave the room, for good, when I heard it whisper open almost as quickly as it closed. Spinning around, I found Sawyer, dripping wet with key in hand, looking at me like I’d just tripped his trap.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

  Other than being a horny bastard, Sawyer had never done anything to make me feel threatened or unsafe or scared. I felt all of those things now.

  “What’s this?” he asked, crossing the room towards his bed. “A present?”

  I didn’t reply—every instinct in my body was firing, telling me to get out of this room. I slowly started side-stepping my way for the door.

  Peeling the note from the bottle, Sawyer’s eyes squinted. “Have fun releasing yourself,” he read, a slow smile stretching over his mouth. Dropping the note onto the bed, his head whipped to where I was making my way towards the door. “Oh, baby, I plan to.”

  It was right then, the look on his face even more than his words, that kicked my adrenaline into high gear. I gave up on slow and sprinted towards the door. I wasn’t fast enough.

  “Where are you going?” Sawyer said, grabbing me from behind. Damn, he was strong for a stumbling drunk. The icy swim in the water must have sobered him up. “You just got here.”

  “Let me go, Sawyer,” I warned, trying to free my arms where he’d pinned them at my sides.

  “Or what?” he taunted, dragging me back to his bed. “You going to cry to your could-care-less bitch of a mother, or maybe your wouldn’t-know-if-the-room-was-burning-down father? Or maybe all your friends that were mine before they were yours?” Reaching the side of the bed, he threw me down on the mattress, hovering over me. “Be a good little bitch and behave.” He looked purposefully at his nightstand where I knew he kept some kind of handgun. He’d explained it was to ward off intruders, but apparently it was also handy to threaten a girl into doing whatever he wanted. “Or I’ll have to make you.”

  “God, Sawyer. Who the hell are you?” I said, grabbing the bottle rolling on the mattress and lobbing it at him. “You really had everyone fooled, didn’t you?”

  “Not quite everyone,” he said, stretching his wet shirt above his head and tossing it into the corner. “Holly and Jude pretty much have my number, but look what that knowledge did to their reputations. If I were you, after tonight, I wouldn’t go crying in the streets to the townsfolk I’m some kind of monster.” He grinned down at me, his eyes wide with excitement. “Because, sweetie, they ain’t going to believe your story over mine.”

  I scooted to the side of the bed, calculating how much time it would take me to get to the door, wondering if I could get there faster than Sawyer could get to me. Since he was standing between me and the door, the odds were not in my favor. “Why now? Why after months of being a ‘patient’ boyfriend are you doing this now?”

  “Because I can,” he answered, his hands working over his belt. “And because I want to. That’s all the justification I need.”

  I had to try. I had to make a run for it, because either way, Sawyer wasn’t going to stop.

  “So your brilliant plan is to rape the girl you just had a fight with in front of witnesses, with two hundred people around?” I was trying to appeal to his intelligence, what little he had in his drunken, crazed state.

  “No, my brilliant plan is h
aving consensual sex with my girlfriend who’s going away in the fall and wants to have one last romantic night before we part ways,” he said, pulling his belt free and tossing it over with the shirt.

  Shit. He’d thought this through. And I knew in a court of law, his story would be the one that would stick. Now was the time to run.

  Scrambling across the bed, I dashed for the door and made it three strides before I took a clothesline to the neck. I fell to the floor, coughing, feeling like I was choking on my own throat.

  “I wouldn’t recommend trying that again,” Sawyer said, standing over me, his hair leaking drops of lake water on my face.

  Turning my head away, I tried to get my breath back. “One day, Sawyer Diamond,” I said between clipped breaths, “someone is going to stand over you the way you are me and kick your ass. And I’m going to have a front row seat.”

  He dropped down on me, pinning me with his weight. Shoving my legs apart with his knees, he ran his tongue up my neck to the tip of my ear. “Maybe tomorrow,” he breathed into my ear, “but not tonight. No one’s coming to your rescue tonight.”

  Wiggling my legs, trying to free them from his grasp, I lifted my head. “No, Sawyer,” I said, just outside his ear, “no one’s coming to your rescue.” And then that self-defense class my parents forced me to take when I was thirteen paid out its weight in gold. Sinking my teeth into his ear, I wiggled one leg free and planted my foot once, twice, and a third time into his crotch.

  He roared in agony, one hand grabbing his ear and the other grabbing his assaulted manhood. Scrambling to get the rest of me from beneath him, I slid along the carpet, knowing if I didn’t make it to the door before he made it to the nightstand, no number of self-defense classes would matter.

  Then the door I was crawling towards burst open, part of the jam splintering off. Bursting through the door, Jude took one look at the scene playing out on the floor and went into a rage. Rabid beasts had better self-control than the fury that flashed in his eyes.