by Seven Steps
It’s then that I muster up the courage to glance at Eric.
He isn’t looking at me, though. His eyes are glued to the fire. A touch of pink colors his cheeks and, in that moment, I wonder what he’s thinking.
“Ariel,” Bella calls, pulling my attention from Eric’s face.
I turn to her, and we gather our things and head out.
“How about some walking music?” Bella says. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”
“What do you suggest?” Cole asks.
She shrugs. “You pick. Something, I don’t know, inspirational.”
“Are you singing or am I singing?”
“I don’t know, babe. You choose.”
“Oh, my favorite words.” He thinks a minute, and I wonder what song he’s going to pick. It occurs to me I haven’t heard Bella and Cole sing together before, and I’m excited to hear it now.
“Okay, I got it.”
Cole’s deep, pleasing voice rises through the trees. It takes a minute for me to figure out the song. It’s “The Climb,” by Miley Cyrus.
Halfway through, Bella’s higher voice joins with Cole’s lower one, and their voices blend together like coffee and cream. Goose bumps run down my back when they hit the high notes, and when their voices lower, I feel it deep in my soul. Somewhere along the way, Eric’s hand reaches for mine. I squeeze it tight.
This is enough. Surrounded by my friends, with Eric’s hand in mine.
Yes. This is enough.
49
The outside of the Lagoon Motel and Bar is dirty, unkept, and falling apart. The lobby of the motel is even worse.
Bare lightbulbs hum above us. Three, ancient, plaid green chairs with leaking stuffing sit in a row to my right, in front of a coffee table with no magazines or books on it. Directly in front of me is a rounded wooden desk with a card reader on one side and a stack of flyers on the other.
There are no rugs. No decorations. The air smells moldy and dust gently floats down from the popcorn ceiling like big snowflakes.
It’s less like a hotel and more like a dilapidated haunted house.
“Are you sure we don’t want to walk the rest of the way to Florida?” I ask.
Bella frowns. “This is the only motel for miles. It’s either here or we camp out in the woods.”
Camping in the woods is beginning to look better and better by the minute.
A fat, older man with a protruding belly waddles through a black, heavy curtain. I assume he’s coming from a back office.
A brown, lit cigar hangs from his chapped lips. He’s the definition of repulsive.
“Fifteen bucks an hour.” His voice is deep and rough. A perfect fit to this place.
Eric steps forward. Sometime between us walking in here and the fat man talking, he’s become our unofficial treasurer.
“Do you take cash?” he asks.
The old man manages to smile while still holding the cigar between his lips.
Impressive.
“We prefer it,” he says. “You over eighteen?”
“Yes, sir,” Eric lies.
The man doesn’t ask for ID. Not surprising in a place like this.
“How long will you be staying?” He takes the cigar out of his mouth and taps the end of it on a nearby ashtray.
Eric’s voice is calm. Confident.
“Until the morning. Twelve hours or so.”
The man nods and hunches over to write something down behind the desk.
“Only one room left.” His eyes scan the four of us.
I swallow. All of us in one room? The logistics alone freak me out.
“Fine.” Eric hands the man the cash and the man hands him a room key.
“Room 102. Check-out is”—he glances at his watch—“eight a.m. You can get yourselves a bit to eat in the bar if you have a mind to.”
Eric thanks the man, and we all turn and leave the dim and dank lobby to find room 102.
The outside air feels good after being soaked in the lobby’s cigar smell. But the good feeling doesn’t last long.
The inside of our room smells strongly of cigarettes and cheap perfume. I swallow to keep from gagging.
To make matters worse, there are four of us and only one bed.
Perfect.
“Well, this sucks,” Bella says, dropping her bag in the center of the room. “I’ve seen snake dens more upscale than this.”
Eric puts his bag next to a scratched, wooden nightstand.
“Let’s get some food and call it a night,” he says. “The quicker we go to sleep, the quicker we can get out of here. And keep it low-key. The entire country is probably looking for us right now. We don’t want to attract any attention.”
“Eck,” Cole says. “This floor has stains on it.”
I look down. The once light green carpet is now faded, thread bare, and covered in unidentifiable black, brown, and white stains. I’m sure that if I had a black light, I’d see a ton more.
“I’m sleeping in the bathtub,” Cole says.
“It’s probably worse,” Bella replies.
“Okay, okay,” Eric says, calling us all to attention. “Let’s not forget why we’re here.” He looks at me, then at Bella and Cole. “We’ll get something to eat, then get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
A long day that will include trying to find transportation the rest of the way to Florida and convincing Coach Fish to let me swim in the meet. By then, our families will know where we are, which will open up an entirely new can of worms.
Eric takes some money out of his backpack, then stows the bag in the closet on the top shelf.
Then, we head out.
“Remember,” he says. “Low-key.”
We walk back across the parking lot and into the motel bar.
Or what they called a bar.
It’s a small structure built behind the motel, like an afterthought. As if someone finished the motel then said, “Hey, let’s build a bar too.” The walls are exposed wood, like a log cabin. At least a hundred people are pressed together inside.
A few bodies stand at the bar, drinking what smells like strong beer, but the rest of the people are scattered between tables and the cramped dance floor, watching a woman on a dubious looking stage doing a very poor rendition of Go West’s “King of Wishful Thinking.” The crowd does not seem impressed.
We find an empty table by the fire exit and sit down.
“He wasn’t kidding when he said it was busy,” Eric say.
“And I know why.” Bella picks up a flyer from the table and hands it to me. I read it out loud.
“Sydney Rae’s Big Time Karaoke contest. Winner will receive five hundred dollars cash. Entrance fee is fifty dollars cash.”
“Karaoke in a place like this?” Eric asks. “It looks like it’s all hookers and hook-ups.”
“Apparently, it has a little bit of class,” I say, placing the paper down.
Cole and Bella look at each other at the same time. Seriously, they’re too cute for words.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks her.
“You get the guitar, I’ll sign us up.”
They push their chairs back from the table and stand up.
“Wait,” Eric calls after them. “We have to keep a low profile. Remember?”
But they’re already gone, running in two separate directions, leaving Eric and me alone.
Crap on a stick.
“They better not get us caught,” he mutters.
I look around the crowd, gauging if they seem like the type of people who watch the news. They’re all older, with faces that tell of hard lives. The women wear too short, too tight jeans, while the men wear cowboy boots, button-up shirts and, in some cases, cowboy hats. No one glances at us. I hope this means we’re safe, for now.
“So, what would Purity think about a place like this?” I ask. “Would this fit into her Southern belle lifestyle?”
“Definitely not,” he says, leaning forwa
rd onto his elbows. “It’s a little common for her Southern, high-born taste.”
Our eyes make a slow, easy exploration of each other. I lean forward into his gaze. His eyes drop to my lips and my entire body turns into fire.
“We have one, final contestant.”
The crowd cheers, ending our conversation. An overweight man with the cowboy hat squints at the cards in his hand. He must’ve left his glasses at home.
“The last entry into our annual karaoke contest are Cole Winstead and Bella French. Give them a round of applause.”
The crowd cheers and hoots as Bella and Cole step onto the stage.
My eyes open wide. Bella has changed into a pair of cowboy boots and skin-tight pants, while Cole has strapped on his red guitar. He’s mussed his hair too, giving him a sexy bed head look.
So much for a low profile.
Cole sits on a stool, while Bella stands in front of the mic. He strums the guitar once, and the crowd quiets, wondering what song these city kids are going to play.
Then Cole starts to play, and a honky-tonk melody pours from the stage.
Bella’s voice drops to a low, husky tone.
I don’t recognize the song. Something about honky-tonk and badonkadonk.
But the crowd immediately loves it. Their cheers drown out most of the words. All at once, couples make their way to the floor, swinging each other around and dancing in long lines.
Eric turns to me.
“Well, as long as they’re blowing our cover anyway, do you want to dance?”
“Definitely.”
I jump up, and he leads me deep into the crowd. We join the line dance, a two-step with a few spins. We pick it up easily. I forgot how good of a dancer Eric is. And the best part is that he doesn’t try to talk his way through the song. We just dance and let the song speak for us and the music move our bodies. My soul feels lighter, and I fall for Eric just a little more.
Whenever Bella says badonkadonk and turns around to shake her butt, the crowd goes nuts. I do too.
“Work it, girl!” I scream.
Bella and Cole are like old pros. She dances and gyrates for the crowd, while Cole plays the guitar like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do. It’s magic.
Eric takes my hand and spins me out of the line dance and into a country two-step. I try my best to follow his lead, bringing a foot back when he steps forward and vice versa. After a while, I get the rocking motion and the spins. When I don’t feel so awkward, I just let go and let him spin and rock me around the dance floor, our eyes hooked onto each other, our hands clasped, our bodies hot, our breathing in sync.
My heart’s banging out of my chest, and it’s not totally from the exertion of dancing. It’s because of Eric. His touch. The way he looks at me. The way he makes me feel wanted and safe. No other boy has ever made me feel like that. Ever.
Bella and Cole finish the song and bow, while the audience screams for an encore. There’s no question of who’s won the contest. No one has worked the stage like Bella and Cole.
Sydney Rae, the man in the cowboy hat, steps onto the stage, considers Bella and Cole, reaches out, and shakes their hands. Then a woman in a bikini—insane since it’s January—walks on stage with a ginormous check that covers her from neck to waist. She smiles wide and hands it to Cole, while Bella jumps up and down and claps her hands.
“Where are they going to cash that thing?” Eric asks in my ear.
Goose bumps break out along my neck, and I swallow, hoping I don’t seem too nervous. When his hand goes to my lower back, the goose bumps spread there too.
“Thank you!” Bella yells into the mic. “Cole and I have decided to sing one more song to you before we go. It’s a love song.”
The crow whoops and pairs up.
Cole leans the check against the back wall. Then he brings his stool to the center of the stage, and Bella sits next to him.
“This one goes out to all of the lonely hearts out there,” he says.
He strums his guitar, while Bella softly hums along.
“One more dance?” Eric asks me.
My body tingles as he takes my hand and pulls me close. It’s not close enough.
Cole’s beautiful voice and his awesome guitar cast a spell over the crowd. His words are familiar, but I can’t place them. It’s a slow country song, but the lyrics don’t sound country at all. It’s not until the chorus I figure out what he’s been singing.
It’s a country version of “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid movie.
Eric’s smile tells me he recognizes the song at the same time as I do, and we laugh a little.
“Leave it to them,” he says.
“Yeah.” My voice is husky. “Leave it to them.”
Eric presses me closer, erasing all distance between us. My chin tilts up, and I gaze into his eyes.
“Ariel,” he whispers. “Please.”
His head tilts to the side, then, as if in slow motion, he leans down.
His lips hover over mine. They are so close. Only a breath away.
We stop moving. Our fingers grip each other. Our mouths are dangerously close.
He doesn’t move, and neither do I.
I can’t.
If we kiss, it will change everything.
My heart hammers in my chest.
I’m not ready for things to change. I’m too afraid it’ll get screwed up again. Losing Eric once has crushed me. Losing him again might break me completely.
I step out of Eric’s grasp and, with one last look at him, I bolt for the door.
I don’t stop until I’m outside. I fill my lungs with cold air and lean my hands on my knees, trying to gather my mangled thoughts.
When I hear the door slam behind me, I know I’ve been followed out.
“I lied to you,” he says.
I turn to him. His eyes are soft, and he quickly covers the space between us. The stars are shining bright tonight in the clear sky. A crisp wind blows my dark hair around my face. The moon is big and white. Pale rays rain down on us.
Eric places his hand on my cheek.
“I told you I wanted to be your friend. But I lied.”
His thumb makes slow circles on my cheek, reducing my mind to pudding. He cups my face as I struggled to breathe.
“I can never just be friends with you, Ariel, because I love you too much.”
His lips press to mine, and it’s like air in my starving lungs. I breathe out. He breathes in. His lips are so smooth. So soft.
My hands tangle in his dark hair, and I step closer, savoring him. Electricity buzzes through my entire body as his mouth duels with mine. My heart pounds furiously, as if trying to burst through my chest and fly into his.
This feels so right. So perfect. Everything within me is alive and quiet at the same time. My mind is clear and filled with pure happiness.
When we finally come up for air, we’re both panting and light headed. I feel drunk, although I haven’t touched a drop of beer.
He kisses the corner of my mouth gently.
I sigh, feeling like my heels are going to lift off the ground.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. “I’ve missed us.”
A single tear falls from my eyes. I don’t know if it’s a happy tear or a sad one. Happy for being back in his arms. Sad for all the time we’ve lost.
“I’ve missed us too.”
“Can we be that again?” he asks. “Can we be us again?”
He pulls back, gazing deep into my eyes.
I push his hair out of his face.
“I don’t know,” I say with a sly grin. “I think I’m going to need a lot more kisses before I can commit to that.”
His smile is pure gold as he leans in to kiss me again. “I think I can oblige.”
50
Eric and I saunter back into the bar.
Our steps are synced, our arms wrapped around each other, our hips swaying in time with a song that only we hear.
I feel
so happy that I’m sure I can walk on air. Eric’s like my own personal drug, and I’m ready to get high. He leans his head against mine, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.
We find Bella and Cole sitting at the table, the large check spread between them. When they see us, their faces break into wide grins.
Bella jumps out of her seat and throws her arms around me. I detach myself from Eric long enough to hug her back.
“Tell me you guys are back together!”
She pulls away to look at my face.
“We’re talking about it,” I say. “I mean, we’re not so much talking.”
I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. My lips still hum with the memory of his. I want to kiss him again, and soon.
Bella hugs me again. “Oh, I’m so happy I could burst.”
Her happiness syncs with mine, and there’s something wonderful about having a friend to share my joys with. Of course, I have Sophia, but Bella’s different. She knows me better than anyone. Bella has dived down past the surface of my life long ago. She knows my ugly. My anger. My pain. My hurt. I pushed her away and scratched and clawed to keep her at bay. And yet, here she is standing beside me, rejoicing with me as if nothing has ever happened.
That’s what true friendship is. Knowing someone’s ugly and loving them anyway.
Bella releases me and takes both my hands in hers.
“I knew that song would bring you guys together,” she says. “That’s why I chose it.”
“You mean the one from The Little Mermaid?” I ask.
She nods. “It worked for those two. Why not you?”
“Um, because I’m not a cartoon.”
“Cartoons or not, there’s no mistaking Disney magic. And now look at you both.”
Eric throws his arm around me, and Bella tears up.
“I’m so happy I could cry.”
“Babe.” Cole picks up the huge check in one hand and takes Bella’s hand with the other. “We talked about you getting all weird if they got back together.”
She sniffs. “I remember. I said I’d be completely normal.”
“This isn’t normal.”
“For me it is.”
He holds the door open and leads her out of the bar.
