Truly

by Carmel Rhodes

  “Says the virgin.” She winks. “We will get on the road in five minutes.”

  “Okay.” I settle back into the seat and wave her off. “Say your goodbyes.”

  The front door swings open and Ethan bounds down the stairs with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. My heart stops. I turn to stare at my friend, who is wisely avoiding eye contact with me. “Bec, why does it look like Ethan is packed for a three-week road trip?”

  “Because I kinda did a thing.”

  “What thing?” I grit.

  Becca’s cheeks turn bright pink. “I kinda invited the guys to tag along.”

  “What guys?”

  Bang!

  I nearly jump out of my seat, as I turn and spot Noah, knocking on the window.

  “Open up.”

  “Absolutely not. No. You’re out of your mind.”

  “Come on, Tru, this trip will be so much safer if we have guys with us, and they’ll help pay, which means we can afford to do everything on our list and then some. I thought you’d be happy.” She shrinks further down in her seat.

  Ethan jiggles the handle. “Come on Bec, open the door.”

  She hits unlock and I lose my shit for the second time this morning. I glare at her. “Don’t pretend that this is anything more than you wanting to spend three weeks with your boyfriend. I can’t believe you did this behind my back.” I push out of the car. “You’re so fucking selfish.”

  Noah tags me around my waist. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

  “Nowhere with you.” I push against his chest. “I can’t believe you. When did you do this?”

  “I’ve been working on it since the mall. Ethan’s mom and dad finally gave in last night.”

  “Did you know when you were at my house?”

  “Not until after you fell asleep. The only reason I left you is because I had to go home and pack.” He smirks as if he’s pleased with himself.

  “You can’t Columbus my trip,” I yell at him. “This means too much to me. I don’t want you tainting it because you hate your brother.”

  He exhales a gust of air and runs his fingers through his hair. “Truly, I can be nice. Remember last night?” I flush with embarrassment but don’t respond. “Or I can be mean, like the night in the treehouse. Either way, your little ass is mine for the next three weeks. So you can come willingly, and we can do all the fun shit you and Becca have planned, or I can throw you in the trunk and let you ride out the first few hours back there.”

  “You wouldn’t.” I poke him in the chest, calling his bluff. “Becca wouldn’t let you.”

  “I’ll throw her in there too,” he says, dead serious.

  I cross my arms over my chest and wonder how the hell I can get out of this without canceling my trip. Knowing Noah, he’d just follow us anyway. “I hate you.”

  “I know.” He turns me around and slaps my ass. “Now, let’s get this show on the road.”

  I head back to the car, reaching for the passenger side door but Noah pulls me back. “You’re with me.” He thumbs to the back seat.

  Of course I am.

  I slide in the car, Becca turns to look at me with puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry, Tru. I didn’t think you’d get this mad.”

  “Don’t say anything to me.”

  “I love you dee—” Becca starts.

  “Fuck you,” I bite, slipping in my earbuds, and shutting out the world around me.

  Forehead to glass, I watch as trees whiz by in a blur. We’ve been in the car for two hours, the ride steeped in thick tension. I’m pouting, flip-flopping between excitement to finally be on the road and coming to terms with the realization that our once in a lifetime girls’ trip has been crashed by Becca’s boyfriend and my abuser.

  This is not how I wanted to spend my summer.

  “Tru.” Becca turns to look at me from the front seat. It’s the first time since we left the Newton city limits that she’s tried to speak to me. I don’t bother responding. “I’m sorry I sprung this on you,” she says, turning down the radio. “But I promise, nothing’s gonna change. This is still going to be the trip of a lifetime.”

  “Whatever,” I grunt, not even a little fazed by the hurt look flashing across her face. The time for this conversation was BEFORE we got to Ethan’s house. Actually, it was when she first thought of the idea.

  Noah leans toward me. “We’ve got another hour and forty-five minutes before we get to Memphis. I’ll let you pout until then, but after that, you need to get the fuck over it.”

  “I—“

  He holds up a finger, cutting me off. “And don’t take it out on Becca. If you’re mad, be mad at me.”

  “Oh, trust me, I am mad at you,” I hiss back. I’m the most mad at him. This time last month, Noah treated me like I had some sort of infectious disease, as if my proximity to his brother branded me as unworthy of his time or attention. Now, it’s like he spends his every waking moment thinking of ways to torture me. I’m not naive enough to think that this newfound interest in the girl he and his friends dubbed stoner groupie is anything more than a cruel plot to stick it to Devin. But hijacking my trip, on top of everything else he’s put me through, proves that the only person Noah cares about is himself.

  I just thought Becca was on my side.

  Two hours later, we pull into a motel just outside of downtown Memphis. It’s near enough to the action without having to pay the downtown nightly rate.

  Since I’m technically seventeen for a couple more weeks, Ethan and I wait in the car while Noah and Becca go check us into our rooms.

  “Memphis, huh?” Ethan says, tapping out something on his phone. His light brown hair is cut close on the sides and long on top. Where Noah and Devin have that dark and mysterious thing going, Ethan is the quintessential teen heartthrob, blue eyes, square jaw, perfect teeth.

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  He shakes his head at whatever he’s looking at on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. “I don’t know. I guess I assumed Nashville would be our first stop.”

  Laughing, I reach into my bag for her diary and wiggle it. “My mom had an Elvis thing. Obsession is probably more accurate. My parents’ first dance at their wedding was to Love Me Tender.”

  “Ahh,” he says, grabbing the old notebook. He thumbs through the pages, a smile parked on his lips. “You’re really lucky to have this part of her.”

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s like I knew her when she was a mom, but getting to see who she was back then…” He hands it back. “It’s kind of amazing. Kind of eye opening. Like, we think our parents are these perfect beings who aren’t afraid of anything and have always had their shit together, but this….” I hold up the diary. “This girl is just trying to figure it out. Aren’t we all?” I shove the diary back into my bag and zip it in.

  “Yeah,” he pauses, turning in his seat to face me fully. “Which is why you shouldn’t be so hard on Becca, okay? This is on me and Noah, not her.”

  “It’s on Becca, too. She knows what this trip means to me, and she went and invited her boyfriend along anyway.”

  “You know how Noah is,” he says pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Once he gets something in his mind, there’s no stopping him.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Noah is like a toddler trapped in a six-foot-three, grown-ass, muscly-ass man’s body. No simply means, I’ll push and fight and cry until you say yes.

  “Well, he’s got you on his mind, and he wasn’t taking a no from anyone. Not Becca, not my parents, no one. He’s convincing as fuck. He has this way of making you think his ideas are your ideas, and, well.” Ethan lifts a shoulder. “Don’t blame Becs.”

  I exhale. He has a point. A small, annoying point, but a point, nonetheless. Noah is a manipulative bastard. Also, I kept his secret, which is why Becca didn’t think twice about letting the guys crash our trip. So, maybe if I’m going to be angry at anyone, it should be at myself? “I just wanted to spend time
with my best friend and honor my mom.”

  “We can still do that. Only instead of Thelma and Louise, it can be like Bonnie and Clyde…and Bonnie and Clyde.”

  “Poetic Justice,” I amend.

  Ethan snaps his fingers. “Exactly. So, stop being a Debbie Downer, and let’s get this party started.”

  I reluctantly smile at Ethan’s glass half-full attitude and wonder how someone so seemingly harmless can be friends with Noah. He turns back around to watch as Becca and Noah head toward the car. Digging in my bag, I snap a picture of his profile, half-hidden behind the headrest, catching the way his eyes light up the moment he spots Becca.

  The doors creak as they slide in. “Good news, we were able to get an extra room, bad news, they aren’t next to each other,” Becca says, handing me a key to our room.

  “Babe?” Ethan looks between Becca and Noah in confusion.

  “Tru hasn’t spoken one word to me since we left. I’m not going to make it worse by ditching her as a roomie too.”

  I pluck the key from her hand. “Thank you.”

  She winks at me and mouths a quick sorry. I should let her know she’s off the hook, but I’ll let her stew until we unload the bags.

  “Don’t be so smug, Truly,” Noah tells me, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ll be in my bed before everything is said and done.”

  I swallow but don’t respond. He’s right. I know it as well as I know my own name, but for now, I’m holding onto my virginity and my peace of mind.

  Our rooms end up being on the same floor, just opposite ends. Once we get settled, Becca jumps in the shower while I call my dad to check-in. I plop down on the bed with the ugly mustard colored comforter and wait as it rings. “Hey,” his sleepy voice comes through.

  “Hey, Daddy,” I say absently plucking clothes from my suitcase. “We made it to Memphis.”

  “That’s great, you girls made pretty good time.”

  “Yeah.” I sigh, trying to figure out the best way to drop the Noah bomb, but come up short. There’s no good way to tell my dad that my sorta stalker has crashed the road trip he wasn’t too keen on me going on in the first place. On the other hand, if I don’t tell him and Noah ends up cutting my body into tiny pieces and spreading them throughout the country, my dad should at least have a suspect.

  “Noah and Ethan crashed our trip,” I blurt out.

  “They what?” Dad ask on a yawn.

  “Well, after we pulled off, Becca drove to Ethan’s house. I thought she just wanted to say goodbye, but then he and Noah came out with bags and got in the car. I swear I didn’t know.” My palms start to sweat as I wait. Dad is quiet for so long I speak again just to break the silence. “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not happy about it,” he pauses as if to gather his thoughts. “But—and this might sound a little sexist—but I’m not mad they’re there.”

  “What?” I squeak. This is definitely not the way I’d expected this conversation to go.

  “I just mean, I’m glad someone is there who can protect you.”

  “Noah Tedesco is the one I need protection from.”

  Dad chuckles. “He’s an intense kid, but I trust him with you more than I trust the brother.”

  “Devin isn’t as bad as you’d like to think.” I snort. My dad, the doctor, is clueless.

  “I don’t think he’s bad, I just don’t think he’s the right guy for you.”

  I roll my eyes, changing the subject. “So, you aren’t mad?”

  “You’re on a road trip across the country. You’re about to go off to college. I can’t protect you forever, and I have faith that your mother and I raised a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I smile, blinking back tears.

  “Also, use condoms.”

  “DAD!”

  “I’m serious. I’m too young for grandkids.”

  I slap a palm over my forehead. “I’m hanging up.”

  “I love you, Tru Bear.”

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  I end the call as Becca tiptoes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her chest. “Was he pissed?”

  I shake my head. “Surprisingly, no.”

  “Are you still pissed?” she asks, easing down onto the bed next to me.

  “Surprisingly, no.”

  “Thank God.” Her posture relaxes and she drops her head on my shoulder. “I thought I tanked our friendship over dick.”

  Resting my head on top of her head, I tell her, “I get it, you want to be with Ethan, and Noah doesn’t take no for an answer, but you should have warned me. Letting me walk into that blind was a dick move.”

  “I know,” she says lifting her head. “He’s just so…I don’t know. I don’t know how you handle him.”

  “I don’t handle him.” Ha! Me, handle Noah? He’s like a natural disaster, wild and unpredictable. I don’t handle him so much as I’ve adapted to him. I’ve learned to withstand him.

  “You might not know this, since you spent the last two years hiding at The Grove with Devin and the rest of the rejects, but no one talks to Noah the way you do and gets away with it. Tru, Noah is obsessed with you.”

  I almost tell her I haven’t gotten away with anything, but I opt for a redacted version of the truth. “He’s obsessed with pissing Devin off. I’m just a casualty in that war.”

  She looks like she wants to argue, but thankfully, lets the subject drop. “We’re in fucking Memphis.”

  I grin back at her. “We’re in fucking Memphis.”

  After a shower and a change of clothes, we head out for our first night in Memphis. Ethan finds a barbecue restaurant on Beale Street that boasts the world’s best ribs.

  Becca and Ethan giggle as they cuddle up next to each other on the opposite side of the shiny black booth. I do my best to ignore Noah’s body pressed against mine, his scent, the heat radiating off him. The devil never sends damnation in its true form, otherwise, Noah would have red skin and horns. No, he tempts me with a six-three wall of muscle. Maybe, if I wasn’t still so pissed at his existence, I’d fall for the sneaky touches and lingering glances.

  But I’m livid.

  I’ve spent fifteen minutes studying the menu, even though we’d decided as a table to split a super feast meal almost as soon as we sat down. Now, my options are either staring at the single laminated page like I’ll be tested on it, or directly into the awkward PDA happening across the table.

  I choose the menu.

  “You can’t ignore me for three weeks, Tru,” Noah says, snagging my hand under the booth.

  “I know.” I snatch it back and deposit it between my thighs. “I’m just trying to see how long I can go.”

  He throws his head back and laughs, amused by my petulance. I catch a glimpse of the scar on his chin in my periphery. I want to ask him about it, but I don’t want him to get the idea that I care.

  “Well, times up.” He scoots closer, dropping an arm around my shoulder just as the waitress comes.

  Susie, as her nametag suggests, is an older woman with bright red hair and lips, who talks with a Memphis twang. “You kids ready to order?”

  Noah nods, as he slips into the persona the rest of the world gets to see. He’s calm and confident and charismatic. He talks with an easy authority, not condescending, but he leaves no room for misinterpretation. “We’ll split the Super Feast. Two racks of ribs, six smoked thighs, pulled pork, and hot legs.” Susie nods. “And for the sides, we’ll get a little bit of everything.” He finishes with his signature smirk.

  Susie grins back at him like a schoolgirl, her cheeks turning the same color as her hair and her lips. I want to roll my eyes, but in her defense, Noah ordering for the table was kinda hot, and I’ve seen girls literally trip over themselves under the power of that smirk.

  “Sounds good.” She pushes her pen in the pocket of her shirt. “If you need anything, my name is Susie. Don’t you hesitate to holler.”

  “So, what’s the pla
n for Memphis?” Ethan asks, prying his mouth from Becca’s ear to do so.

  “Well, tonight I wanted to walk around Beale Street. Take some pictures, go full on tourist mode. Then they have this haunted walking tour I thought could be fun?” I say, looking around the table.

  Becca shudders. “Or super fucking creepy.”

  “Don’t worry, babe.” Ethan draws Becca closer. “I’ll protect you.”

  Noah fakes a barfing noise. I elbow him in the chest and continue. “Tomorrow, we’re going to Graceland.”

  “Elvis, really, Tru?” Noah arches his brow.

  “Really. My momma loved Elvis, so we are going to Graceland. If that’s a problem, you may leave.” I lick my straw into my mouth. Take that, asshole.

  He holds his hands up in surrender while leaning into my ear to whisper, “I like you feisty, Little One.”

  I run my fingers through his hair and bop him on the nose. “I like you never, asshole.”

  Melody

  August 1994

  Okay, hear me out, Diary. I know what you’re thinking. Melody Johnson, daughter of Franklin Johnson, God rest his soul, blew right past Birmingham and Selma and Tuscaloosa—places steeped in black history and culture, places that the next great African-American writer should experience in her formative years—to go to GRACELAND?

  But in my defense, I grew up with a daddy that marched with Dr. King. I have firsthand experience of the black American struggle. What I don’t have is a picture of me and Sis in Elvis’ famous jungle room.

  I know.

  I know.

  I’m a monster.

  My love for The King was instilled in me from a young age. Momma wasn’t too keen on secular music in the house when we were kids, though, in hindsight, it didn’t do much good. Monica had Kai just before her seventeenth birthday, and I’m moving to California to become a writer.

  Our only break from gospel music back then was Daddy’s old Elvis records. Monica and I found them hidden in the garage, and every time Momma left the house, we’d put one on and dance and sing and twist around like two old ladies reliving their glory days.