Campbell (22 page)

“Whenever he likes,” Lucy replied, slamming the screen door behind her as she went inside.

Lucy knew it bugged Cole when they went up to her room and locked the door behind them when he was in town. Cole had confided in his sister that Bull made him feel strange things, when he looked at his arms, at his shirtless chest when he’d encounter him in the hallway late at night and Lucy was fairly certain Cole was in love with him. It was one of the first times Lucy had shut him out, both literally and figuratively. She didn’t like the idea of sharing Bull with anyone else. She’d told him as much when he’d finally gathered the courage to tell her that he liked boys.
 

“Are you having sex with him?” Cole asked, following her inside. “Is that what you’re doing in your room?”

Lucy’s eyes went wide at the prospect. “No.”

“Then what?” he asked, practically begging. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” she said, avoiding him as he followed her around the house. “We’re allowed to do whatever we want.”

“I didn’t kill
him
so you could end up in the same situation with some new asshole telling us what to do!” Cole shouted, once he had her cornered in the kitchen.

“He doesn’t tell me what to do, and you didn’t kill him, remember?” Lucy snapped, tired of Cole pretending their memories of that day were unique. “You didn’t finish the job! I was happy running away, but you had to go and—”

“I would have finished the job.”

“You left him gurgling on the kitchen floor.” Lucy’s mind flashed to the knife in her grandfather’s throat. “You huddled up in the corner, right over there.” She pointed to the floor by the fridge. “And you cried—”
 

“Shut up. I didn’t,” Cole stammered. “I didn’t cry.”

“You did, Cole. You cried, and cried, and I got the axe. I cut his head off. I scrubbed the floor, and I dragged his body outside, and Andrew strung him up. You wouldn’t even do that.”

“Fuck you,” Cole said, slamming his hands against the wall behind her.

“Oh, don’t you think you get to start scaring me, because it’s not going to happen, Cole.” Lucy shoved him aside and went into the living room. “And you stay out of my business with Bull. It’s none of your fucking business what we do.”

September 2012

Grove, Old Oklahoma

When Lucy woke and found herself draped over Tal’s chest, she didn’t panic like she had the morning before. Her reaction was quite the contrary, and she took a minute to try and sort through her feelings while he gently snored away, oblivious to their contact. They both needed a shower, she thought with a smile as she lay there, her head on his chest as it rose and fell. Her more than him. If there was anything she had a hard time with, it was not being clean.
 

She tried to understand what had changed, and found herself coming up short.
 
She was the same person she’d been a few weeks ago, a month ago, but now she was filled with lingering doubts about the one area in her life that she’d worked very hard to ink out in black and white. That night, while she should have been enjoying one experience, she found herself caught up imagining another.
 

Tal’s stubbly face between her thighs. His lips against her neck.
 

He wasn’t exceptional, she’d told the tiny voice in the back of her mind when it wouldn’t shut up the night before. There was nothing about him that she hadn’t seen in other men over the years, nothing that was worthy of inspiring her curiosity as much as he had. He was a boy; almost a man, who liked boy things, and smelled like a man. He was kind, capable of goodness, and logic, and he’d protected her and kept her safe.

She was lying to herself if she thought she was ever black and white in any way, shape, or form.
 

Somewhere in the distance, something that sounded like a dinner bell rang, and jarred Tal out of sleep beside her.
 

“Hey. Are you cold?” Tal croaked, his body flinching underneath her as he stretched. He didn’t look surprised to find Lucy curled around him, even though they’d gone to bed feet apart. “I think there’s another blanket.”

Lucy remained quiet, her eyes open as she faced away from him. She thought about making a fuss about how they’d woken up, but wasn’t sure she had it in her to sound the least bit authentic doing it. She felt sick from the wine, but knew a bit of water and some food would cure that feeling, but would likely have no effect on the other one that was gnawing at her.
 

She longed for her twin. She used to talk to Cole about everything she was feeling, deep in the woods behind their house. He’d listen earnestly, and tell her something about following her heart, which she’d tease him about because it sounded like it came from a lame greeting card. She’d feel assured in whatever she knew to be true in her gut, because he’d affirm all the things she knew already

“I cheated on Zoey,” she whispered, unsure of why it mattered when she found herself contemplating doing it in a much bigger way. It wasn’t exactly the biggest thought swirling around her head, but it was an important one, nonetheless.
 
“And I knew I was doing it, and I felt guilty, but I still did it.”

Tal swallowed, and Lucy could feel it through his chest as he awkwardly patted her on the back. “I suppose you did.”

“I feel terrible,” Lucy said genuinely, because the more she thought about it, the more she did. “I mean, it didn’t need to happen. I always wanted to be better than that.”

“But she…with me...” Tal mumbled, trailing off as he realized that she didn’t want to bring it up again. “Isn’t that the same?”

“We decided it wasn’t,” she murmured

“Seems the same to me,” the boy she was draped over said quietly. “If you’re in a relationship.”

“There are all kinds of relationships,” Lucy said defensively. “Look at this place.”

“Maybe I’m a traditionalist,” he shrugged, as he realized how badly he needed to relieve himself. “I need to get up.”

Lucy pulled away and moved back to her spot on the mattress and for the first time met his eyes. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Tal said hoarsely, taking in her now-familiar morning look, still dressed in his clothes from yesterday. “Thanks for not leaving me out overnight.”

When he left, Lucy closed her eyes and tried to work through her guilt in the grey morning light. She’d end things with Zoey when she got back. Explain, and hope they’d be able to build a friendship someday. That was what she felt most strongly about. The repercussions of losing the relationship didn’t bother her as much as she thought they would. If she was honest with herself, she’d been looking for an out for a while. They probably both had. Their sex life had cooled to almost frigid temperatures, even before Cole vanished and she had little interest in reviving it, which was problematic in all sorts of ways.

Of course, their conversation would be very different if Zoey was the rat.
 

“They’re making breakfast out there. Fucking bacon, eggs, and toast,” Tal said, as he came in and zipped up the tent. “It smells amazing. I guess everyone needs to keep their strength up.”

“I guess so,” Lucy answered, her mind obviously elsewhere. “I could eat.”

“I’m dying to make a joke, but I won’t,” Tal said with a quiet grin. “You’re either entirely uninhibited or you were wasted last night.”

Lucy’s face went an inhuman shade of red. “You were outside?”

“Remember, you dragged me in?” Tal’s eyebrows jumped. “How much did you have to drink?”

“I don’t drink much,” she muttered, reaching for her pants. “Shut up.”

“Hey, I could probably learn a thing or two from you.”
 

His comment got him a pillow in the face. “I can’t believe you!”

“You can’t believe that I’d stop and listen to two attractive—well, I assume the girl you were with was attractive—having sex? What part of that is hard to believe? I wasn’t the only one. Besides, I didn’t want to lose track of you—”

“You’re disgusting,” Lucy muttered, shaking her head at him as she teetered between livid and mortified.
 

“I’m sure that’s not surprising. You have two brothers,” Tal said, nonplussed by her fit. “Don’t have sex in a tent if you don’t want an audience.”

He had her there, she begrudgingly thought to herself. “I’ll remember that, I guess.”

“I wasn’t that close, and it’s not like I could see much,” he conceded. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Not really.”

Lucy wondered for a moment, as her eyes traced his jaw, lingering on his patchy four day beard, what he’d do if she kissed him, what the fallout would be. She pondered what she’d feel deep in her gut, the way she felt all the best things. A kiss was never just a kiss, Lucy knew. There was a lot more than lips pressing and pleasurable minutes at stake. Outing herself as not gay wasn’t a move she was ready to make, personally or politically. She’d never found herself more self-aware of the political ties to her sexual orientation as she was in that moment, and it made her more uncomfortable than it ever had before.
 

“At least you’re honest? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” Lucy rolled her eyes as she fumbled to get dressed in her sleeping bag. “You’re a fucking asshole, Bauman.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” he said with a shrug as he smiled mischievously. “It’s not like I went out of my way.”

“Fuck you,” she muttered. “I’m going to shower. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Once she braved the massive line, the lukewarm shower, while not a cure-all, did improve Lucy’s mood as she washed away her regrettable bedmate’s scent from her skin.
 
She found within herself the ability to start the day fresh. As fresh as any day ever was. The showers were stocked with soap, razors, and two in one shampoo, which Lucy avoided at all costs, no matter how many times her brothers had tried to convince her of its value and convenience. That morning though, she lathered up, and ran the very dull razor over everything that needed shaving.
 
She did her best to ignore the fading bruises on her face and body when she found herself in front of a mirror, and once back at the tent, she happily sorted through the bag of clothes that Red Cloud had left for her the night before, finding jeans and a grey t-shirt that fit like they were her own.
 

***

Breakfast was the most awkward experience Tal could imagine, amplified by about two hundred people. He found himself surrounded by perpetual walks of shame, couples who hadn’t coupled with one another the night before reuniting, awkward brush offs from nights that hadn’t gone so well, and every other uncomfortable situation imaginable. Sarah dodged his glance from a picnic table, her arm around some other guy. Tal found the whole scene laughable, and was pleased with himself for avoiding it entirely.
 

“…Yeah, I slept fine,” Lucy croaked from his left side. He looked up from his bacon to find her having a bumbling conversation with a woman who he assumed was her bedmate from the night before, from the way she was eying Lucy like she was a prime piece of steak.
 

It was easy to see who had taken the lead the night before from their reaction to one another. Stacy was attractive, far taller than Lucy, and if Tal had to pick a descriptor for her, it would certainly have been Amazonesque. He wasn’t sure exactly what her background was, but she was certainly exotic with her tan skin and green eyes. This morning, unlike what he’d seen last night through the tent, however, their body language was certainly at odds.

“This is my friend, Tal,” Lucy said, elbowing him in the ribs. “Tal, this is...” she looked up thoughtfully, as if she was trying to recall her name. “Stacy.”

“Listen, sorry I left like I did,” Stacy said, glancing around, ignoring her introduction to Tal entirely. “People start to grumble if you’re…like we are, and you’re not contributing for the festival. It’s just this week.”

“You don’t need to explain,” Lucy replied quietly, and she bumped into Tal as she leaned back to get more personal space. “It’s all fine. I had a good time.”

“We should take a walk. Maybe down by the lake,” Stacy smiled and reached for her hand, but Lucy pulled it away, crossing her arms, her posture defensive. With that intuitive response to the mildest bit of aggression, Tal found himself seeing a side of Lucy that made a lot more sense than the almost impossibly hard exterior that she chose to project to the world.

“I’m…I’m going to have breakfast with my friend,” Lucy replied curtly. “I’ll see you around, maybe.”
 

“Oh. Okay,” Stacy replied, the hurt and confusion on her face evident. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Lucy frowned at Tal, and nodded at an empty picnic table, apart from most of the crowd.
 

“You don’t have to hang out with me,” Tal said, confused by the interaction, which was quite the opposite of what he’d seen last night. “I’m good to sit by myself.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Lucy mumbled, picking at her eggs. “I didn’t want to go anywhere with her.”

“Why?”

She glanced over at the woman in the line and frowned. “She’s not…we’d never…I’m not interested.”

“Not sober, anyway,” Tal smiled at her as she punched him in the arm. “She’s pretty. I’d be intimidated by a woman like that. I’m intimidated by a lot of women though.”

The awkward silence as they both ate left her tense towards Tal, for no particular reason. In return, he acted the same as he always had, which he knew she found irrationally infuriating from her huffing.
 

“I’m going for a walk,” she announced, picking the last bit of her food off her plate and stomping off in the direction of the campground facilities she’d discovered last night.
 

“What are we doing here?” he called after her.
 

She paused and cocked her head at him, obviously confused. “What?”

“Are we just hanging out here until your friend comes? I really need to call—”
 

“Don’t you dare call, Tal Bauman,” she snapped. “Not yet.”