Saving Maddie (20 page)

From across the room, I could see that Ms. Beatrice’s eyes were getting moist. “Leonard said he wasn’t doing well.”

“He don’t have much time left.” She sat up in her chair. “Your daddy dropped by here looking for you, you know.”

“I’m not surprised. I talked to him before I came by.”

“He called and told us he had gotten hold of you. He didn’t explain what was going on, but I figured it had somethin’ to do with Maddie.”

“She’s planning to run off. I’m trying to stop her.” I shook my head. “I’m
going
to stop her.”

“You’re gonna have a tough time with that, you know. My little Maddie can be pretty darn stubborn.” She smiled. “But if anyone can talk any sense into her, you can. Just don’t be so eager to save her that you lose yourself.”

I stiffened. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure you think you do.” She picked up the remote. “You better go rescue Maddie. Ain’t no telling what Carl’s said to her by now.”

I closed Ms. Beatrice’s door behind me and continued down the hallway. Before I even reached Mr. Rollins’s room, I heard his voice filling the corridor. I entered the room to see him and Madeline doubled over in laughter.

Madeline wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Joshua. I was about to head back.”

“No problem. It gave Leonard and me some time to play a couple of games of chess.” I moved closer to Mr. Rollins. “I thought you were supposed to be in bed.”

Madeline laughed again. “I’ve already tried to get him
into bed, and both times, he waved me off. It seems Mr. Rollins has had a miraculous recovery since leaving the recreation room.”

Mr. Rollins’s eyes had more of a spark in them. “Leonard told you he let me win, didn’t he?”

I shifted my gaze to the door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled.

“Boy, you the worst liar I ever met,” he said. “I’m sick, and most days I can’t even take two breaths before coughing, but today ain’t one of them days.” He winked at Madeline. “I ain’t felt this good in two weeks.”

“But all that moaning and coughing?” I asked.

“I was fakin’.”

I snapped my fingers. “You knew he was going to throw the game. You knew he was going to let you win.”

“Like my daddy used to say, if you can’t win, cheat.” Then he picked up Madeline’s hand and pecked it. “Ms. Madeline, thank you for gracing me with your presence once again. It’s always a pleasure.”

Madeline stood and did a half curtsy. “The pleasure is all mine,” she replied with a thick Southern accent. She walked to the door, but paused before exiting the room. “You take care of yourself.”

He nodded. “And you do the same.”

I waved good-bye to Mr. Rollins, and we headed to the car. I was surprised when Madeline slipped her arm into mine.

“Mr. Rollins told me that your dad came by looking for you.”

I nodded. “I talked to him while you were in the bank.”

“Is he mad?”

“Yeah, but not as mad as I thought he’d be.”

She stopped walking. “Why didn’t you tell me you were supposed to be going to Savannah for a youth retreat?”

I laughed. “I must have been too busy drinking and throwing up.”

“That’s not funny, Joshua.” She unlinked her arm. “The more you hang around me, the more fucked up your life gets, and all you can do is make jokes?”

“You’re not …
ruining
my life,” I said. “I’ve been to Savannah plenty of times. There’s nothing there I haven’t seen before.”

“But Joshua—”

“The fact of the matter is, I’m not supposed to be there. I’m supposed to be here. With you.”

“I bet your father thinks otherwise.”

“You know, it really doesn’t matter what my father thinks.” I took her hand and intertwined her fingers with mine. “It doesn’t matter what your father thinks, either.”

Madeline spent the next few seconds focusing on a passing car.

“You can stay with us if you want to.” I lightly squeezed her hand.

The sun had sunk close to the horizon, casting Madeline’s face in a yellow glow. “Yeah, like your folks really want me crashing at your house.” As she let out a little spurt of laughter, her bottom lip trembled.

“I asked them, and they said yes. The guest room is all yours if you want it.”

She swallowed hard. “I used to wonder how I would have turned out if I had had parents like yours. Good parents. Parents who cared …” Her voice cracked. “Parents who actually listened to me.”

I thought back to my phone conversation with my parents. Madeline was right—they
were
good parents. By no means were they perfect, but when it counted—when it mattered most—they trusted me. They believed in me. They listened to me.

“Well, what do you say?” I asked. “Will you come home with me?”

“Joshua, I can’t….” She cleared her throat, then took a deep breath. “I’m leaving. I’ve made up my mind.”

I could have said more, but I didn’t want to push her. Not yet. “I just wanted to offer.”

“You’ve done due diligence.” She pulled away from me and headed to the car. “Consider yourself off the hook.”

chapter 18

M
adeline stuffed the last article of clothing into her bag and zipped it shut. “I think that’s everything.”

In what could only be classified as a modern-day miracle, Madeline was able to force all her clothes, shoes, and books into her two bags, with the clothes she planned to wear tomorrow draped over the back of the wooden chair. Looking at the motel room now, you would never guess that this was the same room we had slept in last night.

Madeline had taken a shower and changed back into her oversized T-shirt. For the first time since she had been back to Conway, I couldn’t see any hint of purple on her body. No lipstick. No nail polish. Nothing.

The air in the room seemed to be charged. Every time
I looked at Madeline, walking around in nothing but that T-shirt, all I could think about was what we almost did last night. What I wished we had done. What I still wanted to do—I think.

I looked at the bottle of tequila standing solitary on the desk. “Not taking that with you?”

“I figured I’d leave it for you.”

“There’s no way I’m touching that stuff again. I still can’t feel my fingers.”

She placed her hand on the neck of the bottle. “Too bad. It was fun drinking with you. Much better than drinking alone.”

“Yeah, and other than the mind-wrenching headache, excessive vomiting, and skin-peeling slap you gave me, it was the best time of my life.” I scooted to the edge of the bed. “Why
did
you slap me, by the way?”

“The way you sounded, so adamant and so righteous, you reminded me of my dad.”

“Well then, why did you kiss me?”

“Because you’re
not
my dad.” She dropped the bottle into the trash, then sat beside me. “I don’t think he’s spoken a kind word to me in four years.”

“Your dad was wrong,” I said. “None of this was your fault.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“It matters to me.” I took her hand. “Don’t go.”

“Joshua, you don’t understand. I need a place where I can blend in. Where no one knows me. Where I can disappear.”

It felt like Madeline was trying to pull away from me,
but I refused to release her hand. I could feel her cracking—I knew she was close to changing her mind. I just needed a little more time. “Please, stay. I won’t judge you.” I paused. “I’ll even let you slap me again, if that helps.”

“I think you’ve had enough abuse.” She smiled and squeezed my hand, her skin soft against mine. “Are you sure you’re not going home tonight?”

“Not unless you’re kicking me out.”

She looked at the back of my hand. “I’m not kicking you out,” she whispered. Then she yawned.

“Ready for bed?”

She nodded. “I have a lot of traveling to do tomorrow.”

Madeline still hadn’t told me where she was planning to go. Whenever I asked, all she would say was
far away.

We sat there for a few more minutes, her rubbing my hand, me trying to come up with something interesting to say. Then she yawned again, and then I yawned, and then we laughed a little.

Finally, I caved. I grabbed one of the pillows and threw it onto the floor. “Be sure not to step on me in the middle of the night.”

She glanced at the two remaining pillows on the bed. “Is that what you want? To sleep on the floor?”

“I don’t. It’s just—”

“Joshua.” She kissed the back of my hand. “I want you to come to bed. With me.”

I stared at her for a long time—so long that I almost lost myself in her gaze. And as much as I wanted to be thinking about her, I found myself thinking about everything
but
her.

The church said that premarital sex was wrong.

Jenn believed it was okay if you were in love.

Tony said that we were young; we had the rest of our lives to “live right.”

And I … I didn’t know
what
I believed.

But I did know this: I loved Madeline Smith. Even after all these years, she was my best friend. She knew me better than anyone else. She understood me better than anyone else.

And I knew I wanted her—wanted
this
—more than anything else I had ever wanted.

Maybe it was wrong, wanting to be with her. But if it really was a sin, it was one I could live with.

“Joshua?” She let go of my hand. “It’s okay. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought … I’m sorry.”

“No,” I whispered. “I want to. I’m sure.”

She smiled. “Then go turn off the lights.”

As she scampered into bed, I checked to make sure the door was locked and turned off the lights. Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating my path back to the bed.

“Hurry up,” she said. “It’s cold under these sheets.”

I kicked off my shoes and slipped underneath the covers. I knew I should have probably taken off my shirt—well, Frank’s shirt—and my jeans, but with the way my lower extremities were acting, the more layers I could keep between me and Madeline, the better.

I lay in the bed, my body stiff, my mind racing. I mean, it was about to happen. It was really about to happen!

Madeline put her hand against my chest. “Good Lord,
Joshua, your heart feels like it’s about to burst,” she said. “Calm down, baby. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Baby?
The only other person who had ever called me baby was my mother.

It sounded so much better coming from Madeline.

“What about …” I gulped. “What about condoms?”

“In the top drawer of your nightstand. I put them there earlier tonight.”

“Oh. Good. Now all I have to do is figure out how to put one on.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll take things as slow as you want.” She kissed the bottom of my chin before yawning once more. “We could just go to sleep, too. That wouldn’t be so bad.”

With the way my body was revved up, there was no way I was going to sleep anytime soon.

I took a deep breath, and then, straining my neck as much as humanly possible, I kissed her, very lightly at first. And then those very light kisses turned into heavy, body-shaking, soul-stirring kisses. She kicked the sheets from her legs and pressed her bare feet against mine. They were cool, but not cold.

At some point, the kissing became more than kissing as my fingers traced a path from her jawline to her neck to the valley between her breasts. It was the thinnest of material that separated my skin from hers.

I slid my hands to her hips. My fingertips brushed against her underwear, and I immediately jerked my hands back to the safety of her cotton T-shirt.

Madeline stopped kissing me for long enough to climb
on top of me, and then guided my hands back to her hips. “You can take off my T-shirt if you want to.”

I nodded and cupped my fingers underneath the edges of her shirt as she brought her hands over her head. I peeled the shirt away from her body, and reveled in her nakedness.

She looked down at her breasts. “They’re too big,” she said.

“They’re beautiful.” I ran my fingers across her stomach. “You’re beautiful.”

“No offense, but you’re probably not the most objective person at this point.” Then she laughed and covered her chest, like she suddenly realized she was naked. “You know, I’ve never understood the fascination that guys have with breasts. When you think about it, it’s nothing but skin and fat.”

“Um … I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it like that before….”

She frowned. “I’m sorry for babbling on like this. The last thing you want to hear right now is how much I hate my breasts.” She started kissing me again. “I promise, no more interruptions.”

“No, it’s okay,” I mumbled, my mouth half-covered with hers. “Tell me what else you don’t like.”

She leaned back. “Are you serious? You really want to know?”

I pulled her to me; she nestled into my arms like she was made to fit there. “Of course. I could use all the help I can get. This is uncharted territory for me.”

She laughed, and before I knew it, I was laughing as well. And things just seemed so much … easier all of a sudden.

“Nipples,” she said. “I hate it when guys squeeze my nipples. It’s like they’re trying to tear them off.” She reached under my shirt and tweaked one of my nipples. “Really, does that feel good?”

I flinched as she dug her fingernails into me. “No, I suppose not.”

“See, I think every guy should get their nipples squeezed, just to see how uncomfortable it is.” She spoke into my neck, each word a cool breeze on my sticky skin. “So what about you? There’s got to be something girls do that you hate.”

I chewed on my lip for a second. “Well, there was this one time when Jenn stuck her tongue in my ear….”

And that was how it went. We bounced from talking about what we didn’t like about making out to what foods we didn’t like, to what we didn’t like about our families, to everything.

We would stop talking every few minutes to kiss and grope and twist around in the sheets, but we somehow always got back to talking again. As much as I wanted her body, I wanted to talk to her more.

And with the way Madeline kept laughing and smiling, I knew she felt the same way.