by H. M. Ward
The cop—I mean campus cop—seems to be well acquainted with Josh. “Have some respect, Mr. Gallub. I can make your life hell.” The guy swaps spots with Josh and steps off the bus. He turns on the sidewalk and points up at me. “Both of you.”
“What, are you going to ticket me to death?”
“I can ticket her, too!” He points at me, seeming too pissed off.
“Josh, I can’t afford tickets and points on my license.”
He laughs. “It’s not a real ticket. He’s not a real cop. The worst he can do is charge you $35 and throw his keys at you.”
“Really?” I blink, stunned by this turn of events. “Then why’d he pull me over?”
“Why’d you stop?” Josh has an incredulous smile on his face.
“I didn’t.” I search the sidewalk for Kevin and frown watching him walk back to a bike at the back corner of the bus. I didn’t see it before. “You’re on a bike?”
Josh tries not to laugh while speaking from lips that really want to twist into a full-wattage smile. “You got tricked, Kerry. He was probably asking for your license so he could stalk you.”
“I don’t do that!” Kevin yells from the back of the bus as he mounts his bicycle. He pulls away, jabbing his finger at Josh while spewing threats.
I blink, stunned, and when I look up to meet Josh's eyes, all the emotion I've been holding back—all the hurt, betrayal, and rejection—surfaces in a flash flood. My lower lip begins to wobble, and my eyes fill with tears.
Josh's smug smile drops to the floor. His hands fly up as he tries to back down the stairs before I start bawling. “No way. I just happened to be here. Don’t thank me!” He’s at the bottom of the stairwell, about to walk away when I start sobbing. And it’s the worst kind. I sound like I’m being choked, and the word 'bub' repeats over and over as I try to stop the sobs.
“Don’t call me, Bub, babe.” Josh sucks in a deep breath and climbs back up the stairs.
Twin rivers of tears stain my face even though I keep wiping them away. I can’t stop the convulsive wails escaping my chest. I feel like I've been wrenched in two. I rest my head on the steering wheel and hide my face.
Josh puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to regret this, but move over. I’m driving.”
I manage to slide my sobbing body into a seat near the front. The raccoon is still pissed at me for body slamming his ass into the dashboard and lets me know it by snarling at me around the corner of his seat. It makes me cry more. My brain automatically takes the critter’s hissy fit as rejection. Even animals hate me. I’m the anti-Snow White. I start sobbing again.
Josh jerks the bus into motion and maneuvers it down a side street, where he parks, cuts the engine and walks back to me. Standing in the aisle, he looks down at me. “So, how was your day?”
I don’t respond. I have my face in my hands, and my head is forward, hidden. Shame looks bad on me. I feel sick inside.
Josh slides into the seat next to me and throws his arm around my shoulder. “Kerry, there are two rules in life. The first is no one can tear you down without your permission. The second is the most important.” When he doesn’t offer it right away, I turn to peek at him through my hair.
“What’s the other?”
“When you get kicked in the balls, you gotta kick back. You’re no one's bitch, and you never will be. You’re not the kind of girl that goes down after one shot. I wish you were.” He smirks at his innuendo.
“Assface.”
“There’s my girl.” Josh tips his head to the side, trying to catch my eye. When he does, I'm surprised to see the concern on his face. This guy only cares about himself. Why, then, did he leave his convertible parked on the side of a busy road to sit on a stinky bus with me and a rabid raccoon?
“Thanks.” I manage to steady my breathing, but the stream of tears doesn't stop. “I’m sorry.” I swat at my eyes, feeling like an idiot. I hate crying in front of people.
Josh reaches into his pocket and fishes out a handkerchief. “Here.”
I glance at it and sit up a little straighter. “Really? You carry a handkerchief?”
“Think about it—I come across a crying woman with battered self-esteem desperately needing someone strong and handsome to cling to. I offer my hanky, and things get freaky. Angry sex is amazing.” He smiles at me, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
I dab my eyes with the clean, white fabric, but the tears keep streaming. Josh shifts his weight and pulls my head against his shoulder. “Take a moment. I’ll beat the world away for you.”
I nestle my head into the spot between his shoulder and his neck, dabbing my tears before they roll down my cheeks. I stare at the names written on the back of the seat in front of me wondering if their lives suck as badly as mine does.
After a little bit, Josh clears his throat and says, “I can kick his ass if you want.”
I smirk and shake my head. “It’s not a him. Well, not entirely.”
“So it’s, like, a hermaphrodite or what?”
That makes me laugh. “No, it’s my mom.”
I tell him what happened, leaving nothing out. I realize it’s like inviting an elephant into my tent, and once he’s in, there’s no getting him out—but I trust him. I don’t know why, but I do. When I finish my horrible story, I don’t look at him. I stay where I am, staring at the seatback. “I can’t undo any of this. I’m not the one who broke it. If it was just Matt, fine—couples break up—but add in Mom and I just can’t…” The word hangs in the air. I can’t accept it. I can’t deal with it. I can’t condone it. I can’t believe it. I just can’t—to all of it.
Josh shifts his weight under me, sits up, and looks at me. I mean really looks at me. When he speaks, my eyes drift and lock with his. “Then don’t. The ball is in their court. You said your piece. Leave it alone. Let it simmer and wait for the embers to die.”
“And then what? Take Mom back like nothing ever happened?”
“Life’s not that easy, Kerry, but anything worth having doesn’t come easy, does it?” His perfect hair is styled away from his face, and I notice a scar above his eyebrow—like there had been a piercing there at one time. His eyes dip to my lips before flicking back to lock with mine. He watches me carefully, moving slowly. My heart is hammering, and I feel trapped. I wanted a committed relationship when I met Matt. Now I don’t want a relationship at all. I need someone to hold me and fuck me hard—I had that with Nate, but he ran off again. Then there’s this ass of a man always there, openly wanting me from day one—and I keep blowing him off. He’s an arrogant asshole who’s just trying to get laid. He said that. I know that. At the same time, he’s the only person who’s been truthful with me from the beginning. That’s just my luck. The self-professing ass is the one I end up in a relationship with, spilling my guts.
Josh leans in, slowly, carefully, like I might spook and run off. Right before his lips are on mine, he stops, watching me from beneath lowered lashes. I feel his breath on my skin, and it’s hard not to touch him.
There’s one thing holding me in place, keeping me from moving forward. Beth. I can’t do this to her.
Josh seems to be fighting the same battle. He suddenly tips his head, making the possibility of a kiss non-existent, and laughs bitterly. “Why didn’t I meet you first?”
“If you had, I wouldn’t have spoken to you, never mind admitted I was attracted to you.”
He flashes a smile at me as he lifts his face. “Really? How attracted?”
“Enough to consider doing something I shouldn’t.”
His smile falls. He presses his eyes closed and sits back, slamming his head against the high-backed bus seat. “I promised her I wouldn’t, and I don’t break my promises.”
“I like that about you.” The words tumble out thoughtlessly. “You should lead with that instead of the lines you usually use.”
He’s not listening to me anymore. His gaze is unfocused and locked on the side of my face. He’s breathing ha
rd like he’s trying to control himself. My skin prickles and I resist the urge to lean into him.
“You like me,” he says, with the confidence of a middle schooler. He seems shocked, almost incredulous someone could genuinely like him. What’s that about?
“Yeah, I guess I do. I like that you always try and make me laugh. I know you piss me off to distract me from whatever’s bothering me. You use misdirection, slight of hand—but with words—to make me forget how messed up my life’s become. Your over the top actions make everything about you. I can’t thank you enough for that. You've walked into some painful conversations and caught me at my lowest lows. You didn’t judge. You didn’t try to fix it. You listened. It’s weird. You project this tough guy image like you want me to think you don’t care.”
“I don’t,” he says casually. “I only care about me.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head slightly, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and spewing what I’m thinking. “Maybe you started out that way, or maybe it’s all an act, I don’t know, but it’s obvious you care about your family, and you’d kill someone before letting anything happen to Beth.”
“They’re family.”
“I’m not.”
He glances over at me, his gaze lingering, wistful. “No, you’re not.”
“Yet here you are, spending your weekend on a burnt-out school bus fighting off campus cops with ego issues.”
“Kerry, I’m not some white knight.” His tone is sharp, but I don’t think he means to be.
"I disagree." I don’t get it. “Why hide it?”
“Why hide what?” He bristles and I can tell I kicked the sleeping ogre in the nuts. “You don’t know me, so don’t act like you do. You have no idea what I’ve been through or why I do anything. You’re so frustratingly—” he growls and then jumps up and tries to pace the aisle, but the raccoon hisses at him.
Josh pauses, mid-rant, and stands with his back to me. I rise and pad over to where he stands, placing my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man. You can’t convince me you’re not.”
He turns slowly, and every bit of him is seething, ready to fly into a rage. “You don’t know me, Kerry.”
“Then tell me what you’re hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” His teeth are gritted, and I wonder how his emotions can swing so far so fast. There’s something here right below the surface. It’s raw and still weeping, just like me, but covered with a layer of jokes and jabs.
“Then say it. Tell me and stop pussyfooting around this secret!”
He mashes his lips together and shakes his head. “You know what? It’s not that easy. You’ll hear it and assume a bunch of shit. I don’t have time for this, Kerry. Stopping was a fucking mistake. Deal with your shit by yourself." Josh steps forward like he’s going to mow me down. I’m blocking the only exit. Looking past me, he snarls, “Move.”
“No.”
Josh lowers his gaze and focuses on my face. “I’m not that guy, Kerry.”
“Then tell me who you are.”
“Actions should be enough.”
“They are! They’re screaming that you’re terrified I'll find out whatever you're hiding and never speak to you again. Just tell me what it is before I find out from someone else.” He stands there so long, with no response, that I’m about to give up and step aside.
“You’ll run, and you won’t look back.” He breathes deeply, letting the air fill his lungs completely before exhaling.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. It’s what everyone does when they find out. It’s the reason I can’t be friends with your friends. It’s the reason for everything.” He watches me while stepping nearer, pressing his body into mine.
“Josh…”
Desperation mingles with something softer. “Kiss me," he whispers. "I promised Beth I wouldn’t go after you. I’m not. One kiss and I'll reveal my story. This will be over and Beth won’t have to worry about anything between us ever again. You’ll run away screaming, any trust you granted gone. I knew you were like a dream that ended too soon.” His lashes lower as he leans nearer, inches from my face. “Kiss me.”
My heart is pounding and my head is spinning. Does he really think I’ll walk away? After all the shit I’ve been through? He was there for me, time after time. I shouldn’t kiss him, I promised Beth, but he seems so hurt. I can’t let him think he doesn’t matter. That’s what this is meant to be. Proof I won’t flake out and run away.
Heat rises from within my belly and travels up my chest, spreading to my arms, and flushing my face. I can’t say he doesn’t make me feel anything, because he does. I set aside all my mental issues and decide to be there for him. I place my hands on his cheeks and rise up on my toes, sweeping my lips against his. The jolt of passion is there again, lurking beneath the surface, threatening to scorch us if we don’t keep it reigned in.
His lips are soft and careful. I almost wish he wasn’t. It’s like he’s repressing what he wants to do, how he really wants to kiss me and is settling for the G-rated version. I pull back and keep his cheeks cupped in my hands. “That was nice, and you’re anything but nice, so let's try that again—and stop being so goddamn proper. That’s not you. You won’t scare me, Josh.”
His green gaze meets mine. Fear and trust mingle in his eyes, and I can’t tell which will win. When he lowers his lashes, I think he’s going to step away, but he doesn’t. Josh mirrors my stance and places his hands on my cheeks. When he lowers his lips to mine, the chaste kiss is gone, and I feel him—his excitement, his hope, his desire. Josh crushes his mouth to mine, tangling his tongue with mine, kissing me deep while pinning me to the side of the seat. His hands slip off my face and trail down the sides of my body as the kiss deepens. I gasp, breaking the lip lock, as he pushes me back onto the seat. I slip down and find myself staring up at him, breathless, wanting more.
The mindless fuck, the sex for fun, the banging to forget everything would have been great with him. He seems to sense my thoughts and shakes his head. “That’s all I’m good for now.” Josh lifts himself off of me and holds out a hand to help me up. I place my palm in his, and he pulls me up.
My lips are still tingling, and I’m not ready to let him leave, but he’s walking away. Soon he’ll be down the stairs and in the wind. “Hey, wait.”
He shakes his head. “Nope, this isn’t real. I know what comes next, so don’t feel bad about it.”
My face scrunches up as I stare at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Google me. Everything is there in black and white. Please don’t take it out on Beth, okay. I’ll stay away from now on. You won’t have to ask me.” Josh is down the steps and on the street, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, walking away like we’ll never speak again.
CHAPTER 4
I’m homeless and an emotional wreck, so I don’t Google him as soon as he leaves. I’m worried, but the only thing I know for certain is that I can’t lose Josh—not today. Ignorance is more emotionally stable.
“Back to the plan,” I say to myself and start the bus. I want to do this alone, without anyone else, but I can’t go anywhere looking like this. I need to borrow a shower. I have two options. Beg Beth for help or drive to a campsite and pay for a cold, panicked shower in a public restroom while hoping no random hobo decides he needs a pet college girl.
No contest.
I pull out my phone and text Beth.
Me: Hey, r u around?
Beth: Yeah, wat up?
Me: Can I get ready at your place?
Beth: Sure. Need anything?
Me: Want to help me ball-bash a Ferro?
The screen on my phone lights up with Beth’s face as it rings. I knew she’d be all over this plan.
CHAPTER 5
Beth’s dorm room is still sporting the hippie vibe despite her attempt to redefine herself. She’s wearing a catsuit with an oversized belt and looks a little like she fell off the page of a comic book. She�
�s tugging on my hair, blowing it out, and ranting, “They keep asking me weird questions and then giggling. Have you ever seen a grown man giggle? It’s some freaky shit.”
I’m staring at a patchwork of photographs of a sunset. The four by six-inch pictures cover an entire wall. Some of them are all one color. Some have only sand, sun, or sky. It’s a mosaic made from Polaroids.
“Beth, you’re wearing a body stocking. What’d you think was going to happen?”
“I don’t know. Definitely not man-giggles. Freaky fuckers.”
“What’d your brothers think of your outfit?”
She shrugs. “They haven’t seen it yet.”
“Oh God! You’re hiding it from them?” That’s got bad idea written all over it.
“Not hiding it, more like biding my time. If I like this look, I want to decide for myself before they say anything. I just need to breathe, you know?” She tugs a brush through another length of my hair, pulling it hard, and forcing hot air from the blow-dryer over it until it’s dry, shiny, and straight.
“I know. So, do you want to rock this look a little longer?”
“Yeah! Maybe make it more my own thing. Add some jewelry, combat boots, and a big ass belt. I don’t know. I thought about putting a sheer skirt on the bottom. Do you know what I’m talking about? They were popular a few years back, totally sheer and flowing."
I smile because I know exactly what she’s talking about. It’s another hippie-style skirt. The girl loves peasant clothes. “Yeah, you should do it. Add some of that crazy-ass makeup they’re wearing on TV right now, and you’ll look totally kickass.”
As she tugs and blows out another section of hair, she frowns. “Yeah, but here’s the problem—while this whole outfit is totally kickass—it looks completely stupid shoved in a classroom chair. It’s like inviting Batman to an English class.”
“Yeah, but everyone would know he was awesome, no one would fuck with him, and he could date anyone he wanted. That doesn’t sound too bad to me.” She turns off the dryer midsentence, and I scream the last word at her.