“See you upstairs, eh?” Cooper exaggerates his accent.
“Glad to have you aboard.” Ethan puts out his hand, and Leesie takes it. “Alex is that pleased to have another lass in the place.”
Leesie smiles and let’s go of his hand. “Thanks. We’ll be up soon.”
She watches them out of sight. I watch her. She plays with my fingers clasped around her waist.
I notice she put my ring on her finger. Cool, babe. That’s where it belongs. “What do you think?”
“I like the Commonwealth Brothers.”
I nod. “Divers.”
“What’s with Gabriel?”
“He’s a Latin playboy who will inherit half the known universe.”
“He is gorgeous.”
“I heard that.” I kiss the soft spot where her neck and shoulder meet.
She relaxes against me. “They are all a lot nicer than that guy upstairs.”
“Seth.”
“He’s gross.”
“All guys are gross after they’ve drunk themselves numb.”
She cranes her neck so she can see my face. “You’ll never do that will you?”
“I can only think of one thing that would make me do that.” I tip my forehead so it touches her head.
“What?”
“What do you think?” I release her waist and rub her shoulders.
“Me?” She shifts so she lying in my arms across my lap. “In Thailand”—she touches my face and her voice drops low—“when I accused you”—she turns her head and stares at the ocean like she’s trying to see me on the other side of the world—“what happened?”
I follow her gaze. “I became a work-a-holic.”
“I’m glad you had that job.”
“I should have blown it off—come right home and set you straight.”
She turns her face back to mine. “I should have believed you. Trusted you.”
I should never have stormed off in the first place. But freak, girl, you should have taken my ring. I feel echoes of how angry I was even now.
She kisses my neck. “I’m sorry.” She finds my lips. “Things would be so different if I’d believed you.”
“What do you mean?” I murmur against her mouth.
“Nothing.” Her lips are on mine for a long time. “Why didn’t I trust you?”
“I don’t know, babe.” I scoop her closer so I can kiss her better. “It doesn’t matter now.”
I’m starving, and I’ve got all those tanks to fill, but I can’t let go of her. I forget about why we’re here, her secrets about the accident, needing to take her back to her parents. All that matters are her lips. We make out with the ocean lapping at our feet and the sun setting behind us.
Alex interrupts us. “Sorry.” She holds out a paper plate with two sandwiches on it. “I’m not much of a cook.”
I grab a sandwich and take a big bite. “Leesie is.”
“Bonus.” Alex sits down by Leesie. “I knew I liked you.”
They start to jabber about clothes and stuff. I slip away, leaving the girls to get to know each other. I’ve got a date with forty empty scuba tanks and a big fat compressor.
As I walk down to the dock, I’m engulfed by a wave of intense emotion. It takes me a moment to figure out what it is.
Freak, I’m happy. It’s tinged with ache for Leesie and her grief and pain. But we’re together. She’s mine.
And nothing can change that.
Ever again.
Chapter 10
HOME
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 05/10 10 AM
Kimbo69 says: Report. Report. How did the big move in go?
Leesie327 says: I’m like Frankenstein living in The Bachelorette Mansion.
Kimbo69 says: You mean his monster.
Leesie327 says: Everybody’s a critic.
Kimbo69 says: Your roomies are that hot?
Leesie327 says: Alex isn’t hot—just like Michael said. But the guys? Droolworthy in the extreme.
Kimbo69 says: Stuck up?
Leesie327 says: Not really. Gabriel is a bit too good for the rest of the world, but when he walks by with no shirt on you don’t care.
Kimbo69 says: You’re typing way faster than last time we chatted.
Leesie327 says: Using two hands. Don’t tell my doctor.
Kimbo69 says: Is Michael regretting moving you in with all those hunks?
Leesie327 says: Did you actually use the world “hunk”? I thought we banned that word when we were Juniors.
Kimbo69 says: If you’d give me more details, maybe I’d be more inspired.
Leesie327 says: The guys didn’t look twice at me. Well, they took in the mess and looked away fast. Michael did seem kind of jealous. It’s cute. He got all romantic.
Kimbo69 says: Mark would be dragging me out of there by my ponytail.
Leesie327 says: Ouch. Don’t talk to me about ponytails.
Kimbo69 says: Sorry. Lame one. How’s your head?
Leesie327 says: Itchy. Prickly. I guess that’s a good sign. I’ve got five o’clock shadow all over it.
Kimbo69 says: Back to the men folk…
Leesie327 says: Alex is cool.
Kimbo69 says: I don’t care about Alex.
Leesie327 says: She helped me unpack then we stayed up until two in the morning talking.
Kimbo69 says: You haven’t described in breathtaking detail the rest of the guys.
Leesie327 says: You’ll never believe what I found on the bottom of my second suitcase.
Kimbo69 says: A digital camera so you can send me pictures?
Leesie327 says: Rough drafts of all the poems I wrote last year.
Kimbo69 says: I don’t get it.
Leesie327 says: Michael. He saved them from the wreck. Even scraps. Scribbled envelopes. There’s mud smudges and water stains on every page, but it’s dry. I think he ironed them. I would have lost it all, but he saved them.
Kimbo69 says: I can’t believe it.
Leesie327 says: I don’t deserve him. I should be alone, miserable, locked up somewhere banging my head on a wall, instead I’m with this beautiful boy who kisses me when I cry and saves my life every day.
Kimbo69 says: Maybe he finally deserves you.
Leesie327 says: I’d be so lost without him.
Kimbo69 says: Your computer got smashed?
Leesie327 says: Everything I took to school was in the back of the pickup.
Kimbo69 says: Even your hideous desktop?
Leesie327 says: I don’t know. It’s all gone.
Kimbo69 says: I’ve got all the poems you sent me. Do you want me to email them?
Leesie327 says: No. Maybe later. Keep them, okay? I’m not up to email. I’ve got three hundred unopened messages. All my mom screaming at me, probably. I don’t know who else.
Kimbo69 says: Did you leave your chapbook from high school at home?
Leesie327 says: Yeah. And the dive log Michael gave me. That’s safe.
Kimbo69 says: Let me know if you change your mind. You should write. You can’t do anything else.
Leesie327 says: I can’t focus. The pain pills they gave me aren’t helping much. Wears me out.
Kimbo69 says: What are your plans?
Leesie327 says: Plans? That’s a good one. Today I’m nibbling on toast and drinking tepid water.
Kimbo69 says: And Michael’s just sitting there staring at you.
Leesie327 says: They are all working. I think I’m going to have the place to myself a lot.
Kimbo69 says: Is it going to hurt forever?
Leesie327 says: Today’s a big improvement. I don’t feel like throwing up.
Kimbo69 says: Try chicken broth.
Leesie327 says: There was a chicken wandering down the beach this morning. Maybe I can get the boys to catch it, and I can cook it up for broth.
Kimbo69 says: Where the heck are you, girl? Is there even a civilized grocery store? Get that man of yours to buy you some of those little packets of dried up noodle s
oup. I live on those.
Leesie327 says: As soon as I can, I’m going to turn this place upside down.
Kimbo69 says: What does that mean?
Leesie327 says: It’s a pig sty. Filthy. Bare cupboard. Beer and ketchup in the fridge. I need to get HAZ-MAT gear to attack the guys’ bathroom.
Kimbo69 says: Don’t hurt yourself.
Leesie327 says: Too late. Already did that.
Kimbo69 says: I got to go, but I need to tell you something… don’t know if I should.
Leesie327 says: What? You have to tell me now.
Kimbo69 says: Have you seen your wall?
Leesie327 says: No. I just come straight to chat.
Kimbo69 says: Go look at it. People love you, Leesie. A lot of them.
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #82, THE WALL
My mouse drifts as far away
from the link to my wall as it can linger.
I thought I was safe here in chat
with online status eternally turned off.
Only Kim can find me.
The wall? Nothing much is ever on it.
It’s not like I’m a ChatSpot queen
with thousands of friends.
What did Kim do? She promised.
I’ll click her off, too. And that
will be that. ChatSpot?
Who needs it?
Friends? I’ve even got a new
one of those. Rare thing for me.
Look at it.
Look at it.
Look at it.
No. No. No.
I move the mouse to click
the site closed. My finger
hovers over the mouse pad—
draws a line to the wall
and taps.
The page blooms before my eyes.
Tiny square pictures—roomies
and friends, a girl from my English class,
even kids from home who hated me
and liked Phil—
all saying one thing:
“Leesie, we love you.
Come home.”
There’s even one from Phil’s
glittering Krystal, “Leesie,
I love you. Come home.
We don’t blame you.”
Tawni says she wants to room
with me next year. Dayla
sends hugs from her and Noah.
Roxi, Cadence and Lily
join the refrain,
“Leesie, we love you.
Come home.”
Hardest to read
is from Stephie.
I vaguely remember her
friending me last month
thinking, wow, she’s growing up.
On ChatSpot already?
What happened to Barbies?
“Leesie, I love you.
Come home.”
Nothing from Kim.
She kept her promise.
Nine pages down
I discover the culprit.
In a few quiet words,
Jaron spills all my secrets
to the world—the accident,
Phil’s death, my injuries,
and flight. He asks
them to pray. He asks
them to understand
my grief, my pain, my guilt.
He closes with,
“Leesie, I love you.
Come home.”
Never. Never. Never.
You spoiled, self-righteous jerk.
This wasn’t your right. I rage
at the screen. This isn’t your
story to uncover. Don’t flay
me with kindness,
unending understanding.
You aren’t my keeper.
Don’t you dare remind God
I exist. How can you be so cruel
to break my heart with all
this lost, lost, love?
Come home?
How can I ever?
I killed my brother.
His blood drips in my dreams
My hands are crimson—
never to be white.
You can’t love me.
You can’t forgive me.
No one can.
No one will.
No one should.
I slam down the screen,
need to get far, far away,
hobble along down to the boat dock.
A white boat crashes through
the foaming break in the reef
into the aquamarine
jeweled water of the safe inlet.
Yes. It’s his. That’s him
waving, smiling, flexing
his bare pects at me
that sheen with sweat
when he finally hugs me hello
after hefting hundreds of pounds
of gear and tanks out of the boat
and onto the dock.
“I love you,” he whispers
and kisses my cheekbone.
“You wanna go home?”
I tense, clench my teeth
and then realize he’s talking
about the apartment.
Our home.
My home with my Michael
where I can hide, pressing my face
into his naked chest,
avoiding the questions in his eyes,
barricaded by his strong arms
forever.
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG – VOLUME #10
Dive Buddy: Leesie
Date: 05/10
Dive #: 2nd day in the apartment
Location: Grand Cayman
Dive Site: blow holes
Weather Condition: sunshine
Water Condition: wild
Depth: don’t know we’re on the shore
Visibility: to the horizon
Water Temp: feels cold when it sprays us
Bottom Time: all afternoon
Comments:
After our dive Sunday morning, I’m the last one up to the apartment. Even Leesie goes ahead when I get stuck filling some Nitrox orders. When I get there, it’s a pretty cozy scene. Leesie made mac and cheese for everybody.
The guys—even snooty Gabriel—are wolfing it back.
“How did you make this?” Alex scoops up a giant spoonful of golden yellow macaroni. “We were out of milk.” She shoves the spoon in her mouth and closes her eyes like the stuff is ambrosia.
Leesie scoops more mac and cheese out of the pot in a new bowl. “I found some margarine behind that giant bottle of ketchup. I used that. My grandma always made it with butter. That’s even better.”
Cooper’s face lights up. “Ketchup. That’s just what it needs.”
Alex laughs. “Now you know who owns the ketchup.”
“Did you jackals save any for the guy doing all your work?”
Leesie hands me the steaming bowl she just dished. “Of course.”
“Thanks, babe.” All the chairs are full, so I boost myself onto the counter closest to Leesie. “What did you do with yourself this morning?”
She holds up pruned fingers. Her cast is soggy around the edges. “The dishes.”
I swallow my first mouthful of buttery mac. “That took all morning?”
She looks around at the gleaming kitchen. “Did you see the place when you left?”
I take another bite, so I don’t have to answer.
“I need to get some rubber gloves.” She shakes water out of her cast. “Especially,” she talks loud enough for all the guys to hear, “before I tackle that bathroom. What did you guys do in there?”
Ethan points to Brock across the table. “He’s got lousy aim.”
“No way, brother. That’s you.”
Cooper raises his hand. “I plead the fifth.”
Seth looks up from his bowl. “You’re not an American. You can’t plead the fifth.” I was on the boat with Seth today. He’s all right. Not fun like the Commonwealth trio, but he knows his stuff.
Gabriel looks down his long, straight nose, his
nostrils flair. “Disgusting.” He flashes his playboy pearly whites at Leesie. “You should not go near that room. I don’t.”
“That’s right, eh.” Cooper squirts more ketchup in his bowl. “He showers in the buff down on the dock.”
Leesie dishes herself a small bowl of mac and hobbles over to the table.
Alex scoots over so she can share her chair. “Don’t clean it for them.” She sticks her tongue out at all her male roomies. “They don’t deserve it.”
Leesie perches on the edge of Alex’s chair. “But it reeks.” She sets her bowl down.
“Keep the door closed.” Alex scrapes the last of the cheese sauce from her bowl.
Brock pushes himself back from the table. “No way we’d suffocate.”
“Here’s the deal.” Leesie puts down her spoon and glances around the table, gathering all their attention. “I’ll clean it if you’ll close the door when you’re using it.”
Ethan laughs and looks toward me. “Ye’ve seen a wee more manliness than you’re used to, have you?”
“Just close the damn door, okay?” I slide off the counter and cross to the table. “She doesn’t want to hear you guys on the john.”
Ethan backs off, still laughing.
Leesie catches my eye. Calm down. It’s cool.
Yeah, right, babe.
She gets up to clear the dirty bowls. Cooper and Brock rush to help. She flashes her full on smile that makes her beautiful. My smile—that I haven’t seen for weeks. At them. “So the big question is—what’s for dinner?”
Brock takes a dirty bowl from her. “We usually go out.”
Alex stares into her empty bowl. “But there’s no place close.” She picks the bowl up and licks it clean.
“I can cook if there’s food.” Leesie gazes out the window to the water that most of us will be diving in again soon. “It gives me something to do until I get this crap off me.” She stares down at her blue cast boots.
Alex hugs her. She’s big on hugs. “Bonus. I’ve got the afternoon off. Let’s drive down to Georgetown and get groceries.”
Cayman Summer Page 8
