She Loves You, She Loves You Not... (17 page)

Even though she makes room for me, our hips and thighs touch. I can’t help but feel her body heat sizzling my whole left side. She extends her legs toward the pit.

“How did you find this place?” I ask.

“There are lots of hidden treasures if you know where to look.”

I get the feeling she’s explored every nook and cranny of this entire area.

“How did you get here from Canada?” I ask.

“You ask too many questions,” she says.

“Well, excuse me if I want to know about you.”

She swivels her head and meets my eyes. “Why would you want to know about me?”

Is she kidding? She seems serious. “I’ve just never met anyone like you.” My whole life has been lived in a closed environment, like an ant colony. I’ve never been exposed to anyone outside of school or home or my father’s circle of acceptable influences. “You’re interesting,” I say. “You’re mysterious.”

She laughs.

“Well, you are.” Heat rises up my neck, and I hope she can’t see the blood infuse my cheeks.

She picks up a stick from the fire pit and draws in the dirt. The electricity between us is almost visible, and if we don’t talk or something soon, I’ll just start rambling and she’ll find out how boring and stupid I am.

“So, are you in a relationship?” I ask.
Oh, nice. Be blunt, Alyssa.

She looks at me. “I don’t do relationships.”

What does that mean? “Ever? You’ve never been in a relationship?”

“They’re messy,” she goes. “It’s better not to get involved.”

“That’s the truth,” I murmur.

“Tell me about her,” Finn says.

I hesitate. “Who?” But I know who. It always comes back to Sarah.

She adds, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Finn’s the only person I’ve felt remotely close to in so long. This cave, or silver mine, seems like such a private, intimate space, and I need to release all my bitterness, let the memories go. Carly’s right. I can’t keep it bottled up inside. “She cheated on me with my best friend. I thought he was gay—I thought she was. Hell, I thought we all were. Apparently, he and Sarah didn’t define
gay
the same way I did.”

Finn stops dragging her stick through the dirt and gives me her full attention. I summarize the events leading up to my being disowned. For some reason, I can’t relive the bedroom scene yet.

“Pathetic, huh?” I say.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m the one responsible, that I didn’t see it coming, and they played me like the blind, deaf, and dumb idiot I am?” My eyes well with tears.

Finn says, “You shouldn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She snakes an arm around my waist, and my head falls onto her shoulder. She’s right. What did I do wrong? I chose the wrong girlfriend. The wrong best friend. Finn’s the first one to say it wasn’t my fault. But how can she know?

“You’ve
never
been in a relationship?”

She lets out a deep breath. “It’s just easier to avoid all that crap,” she says.

I can see every sinewy muscle down her legs. In comparison, my legs are like flabby chicken flesh. “Haven’t you ever fallen in love?” Because, yeah, it would’ve been easier if I hadn’t gotten involved with Sarah. But knowing love? Having been loved? I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

I face Finn and see something new in her eyes. Need and desire and want.

She jumps to her feet. “We should get back.”

“Wait.” I snag her wrist.

Suddenly, she’s pulling me up and holding me, her arms around my back, and she’s kissing me. There’s a magnetic force so strong, I can’t break free, or don’t want to, and her need
pulses through me as the earth quakes under my feet, and I’m losing control—

With all the strength and willpower I can summon, I push away from Finn. “Don’t.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Then she stumbles back and scrabbles up and over the rubble.

“Finn,” I call. My voice echoes. “Finn, wait.”

She caught me off guard, that’s all. Which is partially a lie. Do I want her? Yes. Am I ready? No. I don’t know.

I clamber over the rock pile and find my way in the dark, scraping my arms against the jagged edges of the mine’s wall as I weave toward the exit. In the open, the bright sunlight bleaches my vision.

Finn is yanking on her helmet. She slings a leg over the motorcycle and guns the engine, tossing me my helmet. I catch it, put it on.

Without warning, she shifts into gear, tears off toward the dirt road, and leaves me behind. I yell after her, “Hey!”

She’s going to leave me here.

She’s almost out of sight before she makes a wide arc in the pine trees, motors over a mound of rocks, and roars up beside me, idling.

She revs the engine. Again. Louder. Again.

She’s scaring me.

She revs until my ears hurt, until I get on, and then she tears out of there at top speed, recklessly heading straight down the mountain. I have to close my eyes and smother the shrieking inside my head because I know we’re going to crash and die.

Finn drops me off at Carly’s and leaves in such a hurry, she doesn’t even say good-bye. What happened? I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings or make her think I didn’t like kissing her.

I did. I’m just… why didn’t she warn me? Work up to it?

I hate hurting people’s feelings. The week before prom, Sarah and I got into a huge argument. I wanted to meet her at prom, go together without actually having to explain to my parents. My whole life has been plotting ways to avoid the inevitable.

Sarah wanted it all: the limo, the date, the meddling mother fussing over her daughter’s dress and hair, the proud papa taking photos. She wanted to go with Ben so she’d be seen as a “normal” person.

Everything was so fucked up. I yelled at Sarah, “Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? Bitch.”

I’d never called anyone a bitch. I made her cry.

I cried myself sick the night of prom. Then I chopped up my hair—don’t ask me why. I stayed in my room all weekend,
feeling I’d had a relapse of mono. When Dad saw me for the first time, he got pissed about my hair, and I shouted at him, “Stay out of my life!”

He grabbed my arm and whirled me around. “Don’t you
ever
talk to me like that!”

He terrified me.

I apologized meekly.

Tanith said, “Oh, Alyssa, why did you cut off all your beautiful hair?”

Because I hate myself, okay?

I still can’t do anything right.

I fill the whirlpool and then slide down to let the jets pulse my back and neck and arms. My arms burn where they got scraped in the mine. The stress of the last few weeks and months has lodged in my bones and muscles.

I don’t want to hate Sarah. Or Ben. Or Dad. I don’t want to believe I have the ability to hate anyone. I don’t know how I feel about Carly. I hate her for abandoning me. I hate her for who she is and what she does for money. But I love her too. She’s my mother. She took me in when no one else would, and she’s trying to make up for the past. She is trying.

This is nice, letting all my anxiety bubble away. I don’t know how long I lie there, just numbing out.

An unfamiliar sound jerks me to awareness.

My iPhone. It’s ringing. I stand and slosh out of the whirlpool to retrieve the phone from the dresser. “Hello?”

“Alyssa, are you at the house?” Carly’s out of breath.

I’m a shriveled apricot. “Yeah. I’m—”

“Thank God. I broke a heel, and I’m supposed to go on in
five minutes. Do you think you could get my silver stilettos from my closet and bring them to the club?”

“Um… sure.”

“Come to the back door. I’ll have someone meet you.” She disconnects.

I dry off and get dressed, and then I go to her room and open the closet. She has at least a dozen pairs of stilettos. Two are silver. I grab both and take off.

A gauzy haze dulls the headlights, almost like fog rolling in off the ocean. It’s not fog, though. It’s smoke. Thick and acrid. My throat burns.

All the muted lights through town are eerie.

Cars cram the parking area around Wet Willy’s, so I circle the perimeter, bouncing over old tire ruts. In back I see Finn’s motorcycle propped by the exit door. She’s standing under the bug light, drinking a longneck beer as I pull up to the building.

When she sees me, her spine stiffens, and I think she’ll dart inside. But she doesn’t. She lowers the beer to her side.

“Hey,” I say. “Can you smell the smoke now?”

“What smoke?” She coughs.

At least she’s joking around. I hand her the stilettos and say, “Looking for these?”

Finn hooks her fingers through the straps, eyeing them like they’re alien creatures. Geena rushes out. “Oh, hi, Alyssa.” She covers her mouth and coughs. “What’s all this smoke? Did the wind shift or something?”

Neither Finn nor I answer because we’re gazing into each other’s eyes.

Grabbing the stilettos from Finn, Geena says to me, “Thanks, sugar.” She hustles inside.

Finn steps back, and I clench her arm. “About what happened in the mine…”

She shakes her head.

“You caught me off guard,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

She peers over my head into the woods.

“That’s a lie. I’m not sorry. I liked it.”

Her eyes train on me again. They draw me toward her. The lights inside extinguish, and hooting destroys the moment.

“I better get in there,” Finn says.

“Yeah, so you can watch the show.”

She expels a sigh.

“You know you love it.” I push her shoulder playfully and head back to the car.

As I’m unlocking the door, I glance over my shoulder and see that Finn’s still there, watching me. Watching me watching her.

Logo is showing a sexy short film, two girls dancing in a bar, getting it on, and I can’t watch without thinking of Finn. The solitude in this house makes me want to tear out what’s left of my hair. I go around and amp up every radio and CD and TV until the crescendo of sounds splits my eardrums. It doesn’t help. I retrace my route and punch everything off.

I go out onto the deck, where the air is so thick with smoke, I can barely breathe. I don’t care. I sit on a sling chair, hugging my knees while the gnats begin a feeding frenzy. Forget this.

I remember my iPhone and head upstairs to get it. Bring it back down. I sprawl on the sofa. Wow, I could download a
million apps. Out of habit I press 458, our code for
I love you
. Then 498,
I want you
. 458. 498.

May

A knock sounded on the door, and you freaked. You hadn’t shut and locked the front door because it was still light outside. Dad and Tanith had gone to a charity event at his law office and left you with Paulie. Paulie wanted to play Guitar Hero, of course, but you barked at him, “I don’t want to play your stupid video games!”

Paulie looked like he was going to cry.

The self-hatred and rage had seeped into all your relationships. “I’m sorry,” you told him. “I just don’t feel like it.”

His shoulders drooped. “You never feel like it anymore.”

He was right. Something was changing inside you, hardening, and you didn’t like what you were becoming. To redeem yourself, you popped popcorn for him and you, and then you curled up on the couch with a book while Paulie played alone.

Paulie said something that took a minute to register. “What?” you asked.

“Can I ask Ben to come over and play with me?”

You snapped, “No!”

Paulie pouted.

Your cell was in your hand, where it was permanently attached. You’d been texting Sarah, 458. ILU. 498. IWU. Over and over, 458, 498, 458, 498…

The doorbell rang, and you got up to answer it. Ben stood there.

Paulie rushed over and flung open the screen. “Hey, Ben. Come play Guitar Hero with me.” He grabbed Ben’s hand and yanked him inside.

Ben said, “Hey, Alyssa. ’Sup?”

“Nothing.” Had Paulie called him anyway? Brat.

Ben said, “We came to see you.”

Sarah leaped out of the bushes. “Surprise.”

The night exploded with stars. Sarah stepped inside and embraced you. A short hug, since Paulie was there. You’d both been so busy with finals and papers and projects, you and Sarah had barely spoken all week. You’d hardly spoken to Sarah or Ben since prom, three weeks earlier.

“Hi, Paulie,” she called to him.

He didn’t answer. He was too busy restarting the game and jabbering away at Ben or himself. Ben smiled at you. There was something in his eyes, and Sarah’s too. She said, “Where are your parents?”

“Out,” you told her.

Her eyes softened to a smoky blue. “Can we go to your room?”

You hesitated, but you felt so needy. So lost without her.

“We’ll be back,” she called to Ben and Paulie.

Ben said, “Take as much time as you need.”

You closed the bedroom door behind Sarah and switched off the light. She switched it back on. She went over to your bed and sat, patting the spot next to her.

“I’ve been texting you,” you said. “I know I’m not supposed to, but I’ve missed you.”

Sarah reached out for your hand and pulled you close. “You’re so great.” She sat you down, turned your face to hers, and smiled. “So amazing.”

You held her hand in your lap and said, “I need you, Sarah.” You’d never felt the kind of desperate need you had for her. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Sarah swallowed. “Oh, baby.” Her eyes welled with tears.

You kissed her. Looking back, she may have resisted, but it wouldn’t have mattered. You didn’t want to see. You took her in your arms and kissed her so urgently she had to feel the want and desire rippling through your body. She kissed you back. She wrapped her arms around you, and you both lay back on the bed.

You lay together kissing, falling so far into each other, you’d never find your way out. You wouldn’t want to. God, she could turn you on. Sarah came up for air and whispered, “Remember the first time we made love?”