Knee Deep (9 page)
“I promise.” I know as soon as the words leave my lips that it’s probably a lie, but it comes out all the same.
His shoulders relax. “Call me if you ever need anything.
Ever
. Okay? I don’t like this. At all.”
“Thank you,
Romeo
.” I widen my eyes, trying to tease.
“I’m serious, Ronnie.” His face is tight. “This isn’t funny. Right now I want to go kick his ass and talk to your dad.”
Panic
.
Can’t breathe
. “Please, no! No one else would understand.”
“
I
don’t understand, Ronnie.” He leans forward until I can feel his warmth, his breath. “And
you
shouldn’t either.”
My hands drop to my sides. “Okay.” I wish I could try and joke about it with him, but I know he won’t let me. His serious face makes it all more real. He puts his arms around me and holds me on the sidewalk until I lean into him. How is it possible that I’m gaining comfort from him knowing this crazy thing that’s happening? His arms loosen and I reluctantly start to walk next to him, part of me wishing we were still standing together.
I keep my eyes on the ground, unwilling to see whatever Luke’s eyes might hold. I don’t need any more confusion, and I’m certain that’s all looking at him will get me right now. We walk the rest of our three blocks in silence and stop at the end of my driveway.
“Night, Ronnie.” He doesn’t ask, just pulls me into another hug; the kind where I know he won’t let me go until I’m holding him the way he’s holding me. It’s dangerous to hold Luke like this, all wrapped up in his warmth. He’d be way too easy to fall for.
My head rests against the window in the back of Dad’s car. At the last minute he rented the house we sometimes use in the summer and declared that our whole family, dopey big brother Ben and all, would head to the beach for Thanksgiving weekend. No one else.
With how tense Shawn has been, and with the way Mindy thinks Luke is looking at me, I need the separation.
That “Angel” song from the nineties version of
Romeo and Juliet
plays over and over on my iPod. My eyes close and I’m wearing wings, wandering through the crowd looking for Romeo. He finally makes his appearance through the fish tank—as Luke. But I’m allowed to feel all floaty about Luke when I’m thinking about being Juliet. It’s okay.
I feel Ben’s hands push on my feet which rest on the seat between us. “Watch your space.” He smirks. His freckly face and red hair match mine—no mistaking us as anything but siblings.
I stick out my tongue, mostly cause it’s what he expects from me, and push my feet against his thigh. The song starts at the beginning again and I close my eyes. Once again I’m Juliet, wings floating behind me, smiling across the room, heart beating hard, something in me knowing that my life is about to change because of the guy in front of me.
And then I think about Romeo, seeing a girl who he’s ready to do anything for, and not being deterred. Juliet barely pauses when she learns the truth—“my only love sprung from my only hate.” Why does their story have to be so tragic? A smile pulls at my lips.
Because it’s a tragedy, stupid.
An ear bud flies out and my eyes snap open. I scowl at Ben who now has it in his ear. His brow wrinkles up.
“Research,” I snap and jerk my ear bud back. Maybe I should listen to something else.
***
When we were twelve, Mindy made this huge blanket and pillow creation for a sleepover. We dubbed it blanketopia, and put it in our notebook. I’ve just completed my own masterpiece in front of the TV despite my extremely full stomach from our Thanksgiving feast.
“Hey, Rhonda!” Only Ben calls me this. And only because he knows it annoys me.
I don’t answer.
“Your boyfriend’s here!” he yells down the stairs.
What? Shawn’s not supposed to be here. I pull my tank down so it touches the top of my pj pants and head upstairs. There has to be some mistake.
I step onto the back porch to see Luke in the driver’s seat of Shawn’s mother’s car. Luke.
And
Shawn. Why is this happening? I’m not sure what to do.
When our eyes meet, Shawn jumps out of the passenger side. “Surprise babe!” He raises his hands high in the air and stumbles once before catching himself.
Has he been
drinking
? Dread seeps into my stomach, and it shouldn’t. I should be thrilled, but it’s just not…it’s just not what I needed this weekend.
I glance at Luke who shrugs as he gets out. “I’m stuck with my dad for the holiday. His house is just a mile south of here, and Shawn called, so…”
“So…you ended up here.” I smile and Shawn comes at me from the side, pressing his face to mine. The smell of beer or whiskey or something hits my nose, and his soft stubble rubs my cheek—definitely drinking.
“There’s a party just up the beach. Put on some cutoffs and join us.” His lips press into my face, and then down my neck as he speaks. “You don’t even have to put on your bra if you don’t want,” he whispers.
Disappointment hits me in a wave, and I still manage to plaster on a smile. But why tonight? And
why
is he drinking?
Sucks. My dinner is like a rock in my stomach, and blanketopia will have to wait until later.
***
I’m in a tank, a
bra
, and short shorts. I cut off another two inches from the bottom before leaving. They barely feel like shorts, they’re so small, but I know it’ll appease Shawn, and with how tense things have been, I feel like I have some ground to make up.
Both Dad’s and Shawn’s eyebrows raise as I step upstairs from the basement, but for very different reasons.
“Don’t worry, Dad.” Ben rests his broad arm over my shoulders. “I’ll keep her out of trouble.”
“Right.” Dad lets out a sigh.
I try not to make eye contact with anyone. Not with Dad’s worried face, or Luke’s apologetic one, or Shawn’s…well, no one would mistake how
he’s
looking at me, and my dad is probably right to be nervous.
Shawn’s arm is around my back as we walk up the beach; his hand is in my front pocket and he’s caressing my hipbone, pressing his hand to the bottom of my pocket, as close as he can get to between my legs. Seriously, we’re walking with Luke and
my brother
.
Everyone at the party looks to be about college age, and Ben, despite his promises to my dad, disappears immediately. I’m trying to figure out where all these people came from and why they aren’t lounging around the TV with their family for the holiday.
Shawn begins to rock our bodies to the ear-splitting music, but he’s harsh and it all feels forced. I relax my arms around his neck and try to move with him—anything for us to keep the peace tonight.
My eyes catch Luke’s over Shawn’s shoulder just before a blonde bounces up to him and hands him a beer with a smile. It’s weird to see him smile at her. There’s a pang in my chest, even though I shouldn’t care. It’ll probably be good. I’ve heard nothing more about Aubrey, or any girls for that matter. Maybe Luke getting involved with someone will help keep his Romeo stuff on stage. Or with someone else. That works too. He’s been looking at me way too intently, and I’ve been noticing it way more than I should.
“Come
on
, Ronnie.” Shawn’s practically grinding us together and I’m just not into it. I ate a huge dinner and was about to rest in my blanketopia.
“Sorry, this is not at all what I had planned,” I yell in his ear.
“But it’s better, right?” he asks.
“Yep.” Only not better. Every part of me begs to go home. To warmth, comfort,
aloneness
.
Luke’s now dancing with the blonde, his beer in hand. She’s gazing into his eyes with a smile that means she’d probably do anything he asked. A knot forms in my stomach, as I wonder if she’ll be the new girlfriend.
Kind of sucks, because just like he said at the beginning of the year, he wants more than that. But a worse thought hits my gut. Maybe she’ll give him more, and again, I wonder why on earth I suddenly care. Or, I need to find a way not to care.
***
Shawn and my brother are both drunk and laughing way too loudly in front of Shawn’s car. Mouths open, holding onto one another for support. They look ridiculous.
My arms wrap around my middle, trying to hold in some warmth. There’s no way my parents don’t know what’s going on here, even if they’re settled in for the night. We’re just outside the circle of light from the porch, but it doesn’t take a whole lot of brains to know there’s been drinking.
“Shawn asked to stay overnight here with you,” Luke says quietly. “I’m thinking with the amount of alcohol he drank, I should just take him to my dad’s house to sleep it off?”
I glance to where Ben and Shawn are still laughing over nothing. “Yeah.” I let out a breath of relief. “Thanks.” And then the wave of guilt hits me. I should want him here. And it sucks because I
do
love him, but this weekend was supposed to be my break—not another time to shove all the recent frustrations with him back in my face.
“He’s headed home tomorrow.” And Luke’s voice almost makes it sound like he’s trying to help me out with this information. I can’t have him think that things between Shawn and I aren’t good. It’s just wrong.
“He’s my boyfriend, Luke. I want him here.” I’m glad the light from the porch is dim because I don’t know how the lie comes off, and Luke reads me too well.
He looks down at the ground. “Sorry.”
“You two look all buddy-buddy over there.” Shawn’s eyes narrow.
“Buddy-buddy?” Luke laughs. “How old are you? Let’s get out of here.”
“Nah, nah…” Shawn gestures, making him stumble as he comes my direction. “I’m stayin’ here with my girl.”
“Your
girl
is my sister.” Ben stands up taller and then laughs, so hard that he’s wiping away tears—I have no idea why it’s so hysterical that Shawn and I are together.
Shawn takes the last few steps to reach me. The smell of beer hits me before his warmth does.
“Well, I got you guys home. I’m going to finish out the night.” Ben waves once over his shoulder, and starts toward the path back to the beach.
I’m not sure if I react, or if either of the other guys reacts to Ben leaving, because Shawn is staring at me. “Did you not
want
me here?” His voice is low.
His dark eyes and tight face warn me to take a step back.
“No, of course I do, I…what’s going on with you?” I hate him like this. It’s just not
him
. If he’d just talk to me, or if we could go back to just hanging out and goofing off or something, maybe this dark part of him would start to fade away.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” His face pulls into a deeper scowl.
I take another step back but reach out to him with my hand, hoping somehow, by touching him, it’ll help him relax back into himself. “You just don’t seem like yourself, and…”
“If you want to see more of me, then don’t run away from me, babe.” His hands grab my hips, tight.
All I can think is how I need to not react, but my chest is all fluttery and my arms go weak. “I’m not running, I…”
His brows come down and his eyes turn black, his hands tighten even further. “What the hell would you call it?”
A small whimper escapes my throat and Shawn’s torn from his place in front of me. I gasp and jump back, as Shawn spins around to face Luke.
Nothing but breathing. Mine. Luke’s. Shawn’s.
Luke’s standing tall. Shawn’s fists are clenched, and I’m sure they’ll fight. They can’t fight. Can’t.
Please
.
Luke’s face breaks into a huge smile; he laughs, and slaps Shawn on the shoulder.
I almost collapse in relief.
“Let’s get out of here, Shawn. We can head back down or back to my dad’s place. We got Ronnie home for curfew, but that’s no reason for
us
to call it a night.”
Shawn looks back and forth between Luke and I for a few moments. His body wavers a bit before taking two shaky steps towards Luke.
“Climb in.” Luke opens the driver’s side door and rests one foot inside.
Shawn steps back to me, his anger suddenly forgotten. His lips come at mine in a harsh kiss that tastes like beer, before weaving his way back to the car.
Shawn likes to drink, but he’s not usually like this. I wonder if he’ll remember anything tomorrow.
I give a small wave as they pull out and almost fall on the front porch steps.
Shawn’s been back in Cali for almost a year. Has he just hidden this part of him? Is he changing? Will he change back? Has his dad always been an angry man? I don’t remember that at all. Or are things between them getting worse? Maybe I’m just making too much out of a few small incidents. I mean, he shoulders a lot of responsibility at his dad’s shop—does his anger stem from that, or something else? All I remember from him is sweetness, even from the months before school started up. None of this makes sense.
I love Shawn. I need for him to be the guy I fell in love with. I’m not sure what life would be like without him, and I don’t want to find out.
***
I have a text from Shawn in the morning.
SHAWN: SORRY. I WAS OUT OF IT LST NIGHT. BRLY REMEMBER WHAT HAPPND. HAV TO GET HOME THIS AM FR WRK. U KNOW BLCK FRI AND ALL THAT. DAD’S BEEN ON A RAMPAGE 2. SORRY AGN. LOV U BABE.
I send him an
I love you
back and roll over in bed, just hoping to get the kind of rest I need while we’re here and away from home.
“Ronnie?” Dad knocks on my door.
“Come on in.” I don’t move.
“I know you hate it when I make small talk to get to my point.” He’s quiet, but his voice is all business.
My chest sinks. This means he’s worried about something and wants to start asking personal questions.
I roll over to face him. “What is it, Dad?” I want to keep the irritation from my voice, but this weekend has so far not at all been what I needed it to be, and Dad asking personal questions isn’t going to help anything.
“Shawn was in rare form last night.” His hands shuffle in his khaki pockets a few times. “Is something going on with him?”
“No. I don’t know.” The words come out slowly. Again. Sucks to have an over-observant shrink for a dad.
“You don’t have to answer me.” Silence hangs for a moment. “I’ve already talked to your mother, but we both know she’s colossally unobservant.”
I smile. “Dad!” I’m sort of surprised he brings up something we both know, but have never said out loud.
“It’s just that I know Shawn was drinking last night. I can no longer stop your brother, him being legal and out of the house and all, but it’s not just that.” Dad’s lips push together like they always do when he’s really thinking. “It’s you. You seem, distant or something. And maybe it’s just normal girl teenage stuff, but I want to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Everything’s great, Dad, just a lot going on. I’m probably keeping myself too busy.”
Please let this work
.
“Well, then I’m glad you’re staying behind today.” He lets out a long sigh. “I wish I had the option.”
Poor Dad has gotten drug behind Mom for shopping every weekend after Thanksgiving for as long as I can remember. “Sorry.”
“Your brother is joining us, so enjoy the alone time, okay?” He grabs my foot under the covers and gives it a squeeze.
“Thanks.” And now I’m suddenly glad my dad’s a shrink because he’s observant enough to know I need time. Why does everything have to have two sides like this?
“See you.” He stands up and walks out.
I’m going to have to do better at not looking distracted, frustrated and busy. Dad’s not one to let things go.
***
