Forgive Me (14 page)

I’m shocked when I turn the radio station to Christmas music and Jason doesn’t balk. We ride down Route 18 and away from Rutgers, with my hand between his legs. I’m relieved exams are over. Jason finished a week before me and has been hovering over me the last five days as I tried to study. There is no other distraction in the world that can match Jason Leer’s naked body. Or clothed.

We exit the turnpike at 322 West and exit the Christmas music at the first notes of “O Holy Night.”
Had enough, huh?
It’s December 20th. There is never enough time. Classes at Oklahoma resume January 7th, a full two weeks before Rutgers begins. Two weeks in Oklahoma should be interesting. Two weeks with Jason will be intoxicating. I run my hand over his cock at the thought of it and he instantly responds.

“I’m going to drop you off and come back later,” he says, smiling.

“Yeah right,” I dismiss him as he pulls into my driveway.

“I have to go work on your Christmas present. I’m whittling you a wooden replica of my cock.”

“That’s what I wanted,” I say enthusiastically. “A cowboy and a boy scout. Very nice.” I climb on top of him. “Unless you want me right here I suggest you take me inside,” I say, and kiss him. How can I need him so much? It’s only been a few hours since I had him.

“I want you right here. Just like every other place, at every other time.”

At 5 p.m. I sit up in bed and watch Jason sleep. He looks so young lying here, so peaceful. But he is a man at the age of twenty-one who still wrestles animals for fun.

“Jason,” I say, and try to lift his arm over me. It takes my two arms to lift it and he finally wakes and cradles me.

“Jason, how long are you going to be a steer wrestler?” I ask, wondering if “this sort of thing” goes on beyond college.

“For as long as I’m alive,” he says, and I wait for the laughter. The laughter that never comes.

“Seriously?” I ask, rolling over and resting my chin on his bare chest.

“Annie, are you thinking again? Can’t you just live and let live?”

“That’s rich, coming from the guy that wants me to be so careful I need to live with him so he can keep an eye on me.” Jason sits up and I fear I’ve gone too far. He holds me tighter, avoiding a fight.

“Will you do something for me?” I ask, already knowing his answer. Jason nods and I get out of bed to rummage through my backpack. I find the last letter I received from him. He wrote it during his exam period. “Will you read this to me?”

“All your drug use made you dumb?” he asks as he takes the envelope from me.

“When I read it, it’s my voice in my head and I want it to be yours,” I say, and my honesty softens him.

“I always hear your voice. When I read a road sign, a menu, a book, it’s always your voice in my head, Annie.”
Sometimes you are so easy to love.
I nudge his hands, asking him to begin as I lay my head on his shoulder.

“Dear Annie, I see the extensive education you are receiving in civilization hasn’t dulled your smart ass. Yes, we do celebrate Thanksgiving in Oklahoma. We are a very patriotic and thankful community. Speaking of Rutgers, I used my fancy phone to look up your local news and read how a liquor store was robbed and the cashier shot, just a few blocks from your house. I think you should take a gun back to school with you after Christmas break.”

I hide my smile, not giving Jason an ounce of satisfaction.

“I’ll talk to Sean about it when we get home. Right now my head is resting on the new pillow you bought me and I’m staring at the enormous picture of the ocean you hung when you were here for my birthday. What is it with you and the water? With safety in general? Can’t you learn to love quilting or gardening? Obviously, you’d have to move out of civilization to actually grow anything in the ground. Even if you could find an inch of dirt to plant, someone would steal your crop.

“I looked up at the moon last night. I miss you, Annie. I’m tired of being apart. Come back to Oklahoma with me in January. You’ll love it. January is storm-free and warmer than New Jersey.

“And I’m here.

“Without you.

“Without my clothes on.

“Waiting for you to come.

“Whatever is beyond love and obsession,

“Jason.”

“Thank you,” I say, and roll on top of him, wanting him for the third time today. It’s only a matter of time before I call Oklahoma home.

“Do you want your Christmas present?”

“I thought you just gave it to me,” I say, still breathless.

“No. That wasn’t it. You get that every day,” Jason says, and he looks happy, truly happy. Why is it so much easier when we’re together than when we’re apart? He walks across the room and my stomach knots at the sight of him naked. It’s been six months; I hope this sensation never dies. He dives back in the bed, nearly breaking my arm, and holds out a small, square box. I hold it in my hand and stare at it.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to knock you up proper before proposing. It’s just a present,” he says, and I laugh, more so at the fact he knew what I was worried about before I did.

“There’s something to look forward to,” I say as I rip open the wrapping paper. Inside the box is a circle pendant hanging from a gold chain. It’s a turquoise stone surrounded by garnet rays. It looks like a sun, or—“Is this a spur?” I ask, studying the necklace.

“This is a rowel, which is part of a spur. I had it made for you. The blue turquoise is for you, your favorite color, and surrounding it are the red—”

“For you.”

He had it made for me. Jason starts to take the necklace out of the box and I start to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, but the smile on my face breaks through the tears and I shake my head. “Oh geez, Annie.”

“I just love it. It’s beautiful.” Jason tries to open the tiny clasp, but after several attempts with the giant clubs he calls hands I take it from him and put it on me myself. “Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas, Annie. It’s the first of forever.”

I
can’t wait sixty-three days to see you again,” Jason says as if he’s been stewing about it in Oklahoma and just picked up the phone to profess it. “You should have given me a weekend in February.”

“Do you not like your Christmas present?” I ask, knowing he is going to love it once we finally get to the lake.

“A week alone with you in a cabin is the best Christmas present ever, but the thought of it is not going to replace seeing you before the middle of March.”

“What about Valentine’s Day weekend? That’s only a few weeks away.”

“Can’t do it. Test Friday and two papers due Monday. No love that weekend. How about the first weekend in February? It’s Harlan’s birthday. He always throws himself a huge party.”

I look at the first weekend in February on my calendar and that Friday night is ZTA’s first date night of the semester. I promised Julia, Sydney, and Violet I’d go. When I didn’t do our annual New York City Trip over Christmas break, I swore I would be at date night. There must be a way to make it up to them. A way to make up screwing up the makeup for something I screwed up in December. It makes my head hurt.

“Annie, you there?”

“I’m here. That weekend is my sorority date night. You’ll have to come here,” I say optimistically.

“Harlan’s birthday,” Jason says as if Harlan’s birthday is a national holiday providing him a day off from all other obligations.

“I guess I’ll see you in sixty-three days,” I say coldly. Rodeo season hasn’t even started and we’re already too busy to see each other.

“Great,” he says, and I wish I could punch him in the face.

I change my clothes and settle into bed with my
Statistics for Economics
book. I’ve been to this class one day and the professor is already my favorite. Noble’s in there too, so I get a ride to class twice a week. No wonder it’s my favorite. My phone dings with a text.

The number is unknown, but it’s clearly from Harlan. Jason must really want me to come to Oklahoma to have given my phone number to Harlan. Or he is sitting right next to him and typed it in for him.

I text back.

I drop the phone and go downstairs. Julia, Violet, and Sydney are watching the latest HBO phenomenon huddled together on the couch. I climb in next to them and wait for my chance. The show is good; if I watched TV I would probably like it. When it ends they start to get up and I know it’s now or never.

“Any chance you guys want to go to Oklahoma with me?” I sheepishly ask.

“God no. I don’t even like the idea of you going down there,” Violet blurts out.

“It’s not that bad. In fact, it seems like lots of white people really like it.” I should have worked on some selling points before coming down here.

“I am absolutely sure I don’t want to know what that means,” Julia says, and adds, “and I am not going to Oklahoma.”

“Well see, it’s my friend Harlan’s birthday and he’s throwing himself a big party the first weekend in February, and—”

“Oh no,” Julia cuts me off.

“What?”

“Don’t try and act like you don’t know that’s date night.”

“I won’t have a date, though,” I try.

“I don’t have one either. We’ll take Noble and Wes,” Julia says as if it’s the perfect solution. But since I tripped, Wes is persona non grata. We’re going to need a Plan B.

“It’s not that simple,” I say, dejected.
Of course it’s not.

“It actually is,” Julia says, dismissing the entire subject.

Ten days of Jason’s mood deteriorating daily has been taking its toll on me, too. His tone got nastier as his calls got shorter. It’s as if date night is hanging over our heads, the anticipation growing into a malignancy pinpointing the moment I chose Rutgers over him. Ten days without a letter from him. I’m not surprised. I couldn’t think of a thing to write that would shrink the tumor.

Things, unrelated to each other, begin happening and change everything. Julia drops off the money her cousin owed me from the summer sublet of our room, a thousand dollars in cash. It is five months late, but he had to settle up with his bookie first. Tough baseball season apparently. I was in no rush. I’ve got some debts from the summer I’m not sure if I can make good on, either.

On Wednesday, we hit late night at the fraternity house down the street and Julia falls in love with one of the brothers. It may not be love, but whatever it is the guy scores an invitation to ZTA’s date night. Today, Friday, I receive my second text from “The hottest cowboy in Oklahoma.”

But none of it alone changes my mind about going to Oklahoma. If Jason and I are going to make it, I’m going to have to keep a part of myself alive doing it. I shower and dress, even add some makeup, all with a misplaced determination to succeed at being alone. When Julia and her date, Sydney and her date, Violet and Blake, and I, walk into the Harvest Moon Brewery I realize the place I belong on this very night has nothing to do with New Brunswick or Rutgers.

I watch everyone drinking and laughing together, still a bit stiff because it’s the beginning of the night. The girls look beautiful. Julia is sexy in black, Sydney is demure in blush, and Violet is completely dramatic in a red wine dress that matches the lipstick covering her gigantic smile. I have my picture taken with some of the best friends a girl could ever ask for and then they ridiculously include me in their couple’s pictures. Noble, who was invited by a sister of mine, finally saves me with a sly wink and the flash of a Jack and Coke.

“I have to say, even with all of Julia’s bitching, I didn’t expect you to be here,” he says, and hands me the drink.

“I’m making some ridiculous point to no one.” I smile through my sour tone. Because it’s impossible not to smile at Noble, especially when he’s in a suit. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. Farmers clean up well, huh?”

“The best,” I say, and realize what I really want right now is to be standing next to Jason Leer. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything, Charlotte,” Noble looks me right in the eye. My heels have me hovering closer to his 6’2” height.

“When Julia asks where I am, tell her I went to Oklahoma.” Noble raises his eyebrows.

“Oh sure, get me killed.” He jokes, letting me off the hook.

“Thanks, Noble. You are the best.” I grab my coat before sneaking out the side door.

I hail a cab and tell the driver, “Newark Airport,” without looking back at New Brunswick. I buy a ticket on my phone while careening up the turnpike. Security is a breeze. It’s there I realize I have nothing but the dress on my back and the four-inch heels on my feet with me. I hold in my hand my mother’s tiny evening bag with my phone, lip gloss, my license, and six hundred dollars in cash. I run into a newsstand to buy some water and pick-up a Jersey Fresh magnet with a big tomato on it for Harlan and a bag of peanuts. The rest is out of my hands.

The car service drops me off in front of The Copper Penny, completely over dressed, at exactly 10:38 p.m. It looks like any other college bar from the outside, but quiet. I guess it’s early, but I thought Harlan said the party started at ten. I walk into the Copper Penny and it’s not as empty as it seemed from the street. I check each face for Jason’s or Harlan’s but I don’t see anyone that comes close. I find the bathroom and consider calling him. If I do, he’ll be here within seconds. What if they changed their plans? What if they’re not coming here? I decide a drink will help me decide and slide into the only open barstool between a group of girls to my right and two guys to my left.

“What’ll you have?”

“A Jack and Coke, please,” I say, and fold my parka on the stool before hopping up on top of it. All of this takes place under the watchful eye of my new neighbor, who looks from the top of my head to my platform peep toes and back up again. Rather than avoid, I look him right in the eye as I cross my legs in front of me. My cheeks flush and I appreciate the warmth. My strapless tube dress is not only over the top for the Copper Penny, but a little chilly combined with an icy Jack and Coke.

“Pardon me for saying,” he starts, and I brace myself, “but you don’t look like you’re ready for a night at the Penny.” This makes me laugh. Besides his obvious inference I imagine how one prepares for a night at the Penny. I look around the Penny; its wooden floors are mirrored by the wood paneled ceiling and framed by the wood paneled walls. It creates a warmth of some kind, like being submerged. There are random objects, a plastic pool, a rocking chair, a reel lawnmower, hanging from the ceiling and the walls are covered with signs relaying important sayings, my favorite of which is:
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF STUPID PEOPLE IN LARGE GROUPS.

“I know. I was in the middle of a cocktail party when I decided to come.” The guy laughs as his face shows exaggerated regard.

“You don’t say? A cocktail party? Now where did you find a cocktail party ’round here?”

“It was in New Jersey.”

“New Jersey! What are you at the Penny for?” At this the girls next to me all start to take notice of me and I purposely lower my voice to deflect their attention.

“I thought I was coming to a birthday party, but I must be in the wrong place.”

“Harlan’s birthday?” he asks, and I nod my head. “Are you with Harlan?”

“No. Jason Leer.”

The guy’s face shows some level of recognition as he elbows the guy sitting next to him and says, “Yo, this is the one Leer was talking about the other day.” At this I am all ears. The other guy leans back on his bar stool and has a look. These cowboys have little time for subtlety.

“What was he saying?” I ask.

“At the time I called him a damn liar for exaggerating, but now that I see you, he didn’t quite do you justice,” he says, and I blush at his forwardness.

“Thank you, but I don’t usually look this nice. It was an important night in New Jersey,” I say, and the guilt creeps in.

“Why are you here then?”
Good question.
Before I have a chance to answer, the door opens and a crowd pours in. Their boisterous energy fills the bar, immediately changing the atmosphere. Harlan stumbles to the middle of the floor and looks me up and down. He is ten feet away and obviously drunk. I look behind him for Jason.

“What has the good Lord sent me here?” he shouts with a satisfied grin crossing his face.

“Happy birthday, Harlan.”

“Jersey!” he yells. “You have returned from that awful civilization, have you?” I move to stand in front of him.

“Yes,” I say, and cannot help but embrace his infectious playfulness. He startles me by picking me up and spinning me in a circle. I hold on tight, afraid we might fall. I think Harlan’s been celebrating his birthday for a while.

“You’ve grown five inches since I’ve seen you. Must be the nuclear plants,” he says as he puts me back on the ground, right smack in front of a smiling Jason Leer. I fight the urge to attack him, and just take him in. He’s penetrating, a stark contrast to the lightness of Harlan; the sight of Jason soaks deep within me and when I look in his eyes a familiar chill runs through me.

I lose myself in him and walk toward him without realizing I’m moving. With my heels, Jason and I are the same height. I might even be a little taller and I like it. I imagine raising my knee and having sex with him against the wall of the Copper Penny. He raises his left hand to the side of my face and I close my eyes and rest my head in it. Rutgers, and date night, and the last ten days disintegrate with his touch. Jason pulls me to him and kisses me. So very gentle at first, but then his hand moves to my hair and pulls at it as his tongue enters my mouth and I take him. I couldn’t tell you where we are. A small part of me leaves my hands at my sides, knowing their next stop will be his shirt. Jason’s tongue retreats and I open my eyes, the sight of a wide-eyed Harlan returning me to the center of the Copper Penny. I take a deep breath, so thankful for air travel.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” he says, but I do. “You are so stubborn.”

“I’m in Oklahoma, aren’t I?” I point out, not wanting to start a fight, but also recognizing the planes fly both ways.

“Now that I see how you dress for a date night things will be different in the future.”

“You’ll come?”

“No, but you are not going anywhere near one alone. How did you get from the airport?”

“I took a car service,” I say, confused on why this matters.

“You should have called me. I don’t ever want you taking a car from the airport. It’s over an hour away. Something could happen.”

“I probably won’t drown.” Jason rolls his eyes at me and I put both hands flat on his stomach, not wasting a minute with him on this stupid conversation.

“Leer, take our picture,” Harlan says as he hands his phone to Jason and wraps his drunk arm over me. Jason pulls me to him, shocking Harlan and me. “Come on, it’s my birthday. I share my team with you.”

“I don’t share Annie. Now get off her or I’ll tie you by the balls to my truck,” he says with a playfulness that surprises me. Harlan laughs and moves on. He really is great at dealing with Jason. I wonder if I start laughing and walking away when he gets all worked up how that will go.

I look up and see a girl I think is from Salem County, but that can’t be. “Is that—”
W
hat is her name?
Jason looks in the same direction.

“Stephanie Harding? Yeah. She transferred in last September.”

“And is that—”

“Jack Reynolds? Yes. He’s comes in to see her a lot.” I can’t remember a thing about him. He’s at least two years older than us. Stephanie I remember, but not all that well. Salem County is small, but I never hung out with her. Birds of different feathers, I guess. My phone dings with a text from Julia.