Journey to the Unknown

by Jacqueline Francis

  Though, the fact that she accepted his moodiness didn’t mean she wasn’t confused by it. It seemed like she was caught amidst a fishing game with him. He’d toss her out and then reel her back in again. Crude remarks and then sweet words of encouragement. Shouting and then tenderness. He’d shut her out and then there were those brief moments when it looked like he wanted to let her in. She wanted that. She wanted his trust and his friendship…maybe even something more.

  It was a ludicrous thought. Her head kept telling her that it was impossible to like someone she knew nothing about. And she really didn’t know anything about him. Foods and movie preferences, yes. A little about his family, but not much. There was no concrete reason why she was feeling this way. All of her like was based on fleeting glimpses she saw of the person hidden behind the walls. The guy who sat outside the restroom for almost an hour. The guy who unstrapped her shoes when she was drunk and watched Frozen with his nieces. That guy was hidden behind a thick layer of asshole, yet that didn’t stop her from feeling the way she did. Add to that the tingles every time he touched her and…God help her.

  He looked at her differently since they’d kissed and it made her body react differently. She felt…hot. All the time. Not flustered. Hot. She hadn’t known it was possible to fantasize about a person while being in their presence, yet now she was doing just that. She wanted him to kiss her again, touch her. Secretly she obsessed about how his hands would feel caressing her body and she was driving herself crazy trying not to think about it, but being with him twenty-four-seven made that impossible. Then there was also that penis-groping from the other night that led to a whole array of very…naughty thoughts. Hormones really were a bad thing.

  She took out another stick of beef jerky from the packet in her hand and forced herself to chew on it. It was awful stuff, but she was missing South African food and this was the closest thing to biltong she could find.

  “So I was thinking,” she said, sitting down on the wooden bench beside him. “We should stay at the South Star in Albuquerque. It has an indoor pool for you. You seem to be taking longer and longer in the shower, which means you have some sort of swimmer’s withdrawal thing going on.”

  A puzzled expression crossed his face. “How do you know I’m a swimmer?”

  “The same way I know everything else about you. I figured it out. That rocking hot body of yours is from cardio not weights, you’re anti-social which means you’d choose a sport that doesn’t involve other people and you love water. Do you see how easy it is?”

  “And it must be sooo easy for you. You’re a genius.” He reached over and took a stick of jerky too, flashing her a sarcastic smirk as he did so.

  She couldn’t understand why he was still upset about that. He’d been dropping comments like that all day when she thought it had been sorted out yesterday. It was almost like he was trying to make it an issue and she wasn’t going to get sucked into another argument, so she simply ignored the comment altogether. “And we need to go shopping. I’m running out of shampoo and body lotion. And I need to stock up on my pill.”

  That immediately got his full attention. “Are you sick?”

  “No, it’s my birth control pills. My period is kinda sporadic, so the doctor put me on the pill to regulate my cycle.”

  He shut his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to get her words out of his head. “I don’t know why I asked. Why do I do that to myself? It’s gonna traumatize me forever.” He took a few seconds to collect himself before he looked over at her. “I think I’m gonna go Will Smith on you and institute a box like what he did in Bad Boys 2.” He used both hands to outline a square. “And in this box we’re gonna put in everything that we—and when I say we, I mean you—are not allowed to talk about for the rest of the trip. So your—”

  “What color is the box?”

  “It’s…it doesn’t matter.”

  “You want to introduce a hypothetical box, I need to be able to picture it.”

  “Fine,” he huffed. “It’s black. So in this box—”

  He stopped when she took the box from his hands. Anyone else would have ignored her or carried on talking but Kevin had an odd imagination, so to him this box made of air was real.

  “What are you doing?” he asked with exasperation.

  “Black is a bit morbid. I’m just gonna paint some pink flowers on it.”

  She started tracing flowers on the side of the box and he yanked it out of her hands again.

  “Awww, Kevin. You smudged my flower.”

  “No flowers! Right. So your ripped hymen, your menstrual cycle, it goes in the box.” He dropped in the topics one by one. “The actual size of my penis, the theoretical size of your penis, it goes in the box. While I’m at it, I’m gonna throw Dean in there, too.”

  “What do you have against Dean? He’s a really nice guy and I’m sure if you just got to know him, you’d—”

  “I don’t know why you’re still talking about him,” he said curtly. “He’s in the box. Oh, one more thing. Absolutely everything that happened at Rachel’s party goes in the box. All right?”

  He put the imaginary lid on the imaginary box, looking very happy that these topics of discussion were now tightly locked away.

  “What about you screaming like a girl because of that spider?” she teased. “Can we talk about that?”

  His dimples sank in but he pulled his lips in to stop a smile. “That goes in the box, too.” Opening the lid a fraction, he dropped that in as well, then placed the box beside his thigh.

  Jasmin shifted on the bench, lying down and resting her head on his lap. “What about you?” she asked, looking up at him. “Can we talk about you?”

  He didn’t answer, just stared at the whirling drums of laundry in front of him.

  “I think I figured out what’s going on here,” she said softly. “You don’t want anyone close to you. I’m guessing you push everyone away…but with me specifically, you’re not exactly sure at what distance you want to keep me, so it’s this constant push and pull.” She kept her eyes on him, but he continued to stare elsewhere. “I bother you, Kevin…and not for the reasons you keep saying.”

  His jaw tightened and he gave his next words a lot of thought before looking down to say them. “What do you want to know?”

  That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. It was probably because of what she’d told him yesterday about him getting off his high horse, but she didn’t know if his reasoning was because he wanted to prove that she didn’t bother him, or…confirm that she did. Either way, it was an opportunity she wasn’t going to waste.

  “You’re in college?”

  “Was.”

  “Were you studying something in the science field?”

  He was reluctant to answer and his response was short and to the point. “Engineering…Electrical.”

  “You seem to love science, so why did you drop out?”

  “Next question.”

  His unwillingness to divulge everything made her change her line of questioning. She didn’t want to push for too much too quickly and she decided to ease him into it by not asking anything about him directly. “What’s your mom like?”

  Although relieved, he sighed as if the topic was a heavy weight on his chest. “My mom…my mom is the best mother anyone could ever ask for. She loves with her whole heart. She forgives way too easily. She has this warmth about her that kinda…sucks you in. It’s suffocating and comforting at the same time.” His eyes glazed over and he tried to appear emotionless. “She never knows when to give up…and I’m not sure if I love or hate that about her.”

  “You’re very lucky to have her,” she said and she meant it.

  Her mother had given up on her almost immediately and hearing all that just made her wonder what it would be like to have that, someone who loved her unconditionally. The thought was so foreign and distant, she couldn’t even imagine it. She looked up at him again and her open-book face must have told him everything she was fe
eling because his hand went to her forehead, gently brushing her hair back. He had an odd fascination with her hair and he generally looked for any excuse to touch it or undo her braid. At this moment, however, that gesture was just his small acknowledgement of her pain.

  “What about the rest of your family?” she asked.

  “You sure you wanna know?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled. “Yeah.”

  He told her about every member of his family, his dad, his siblings, Shane’s two boys and Dom’s three girls. Stories about his niece, Makayla, took about fifteen minutes on its own. His blue eyes lit up just talking about her.

  He seemed to be closest to his brother, Max, and despite the fact that he was adamant that sisters were annoying, he definitely had a soft spot for Jordan.

  He told her that Dom was a carbon copy of his dad, strong and ever reliable. Shane never shut up and Kevin usually tried his best to avoid him. Max was in love with his best friend, Danielle aka Danny, but was too much of a dork to make a move. And Jordan was snarky and sarcastic, but deep down she had a good heart.

  From hunting trips with his dad and brothers to big family lunches at Christmas, he rehashed all his favorite memories. He mentioned Perry a few times, quite by accident, but Perry’s presence seemed to be intricately woven into every memory, making it impossible to tell a story without him in it. She could sense that they had once been very close and was intrigued to know what had happened to cause their friendship to fall apart. Kevin chose to sidestep it completely and after a short pause each time, he moved on like the name hadn’t been mentioned.

  She listened to every detail with fascination, her mind trying to conjure up images as if she were a witness to all those memories. She was a smart girl. She could figure out theorems and equations and chemical compounds, but trying to picture the love within his family unit was unfathomable, something she knew nothing of. She could see it, see them eating together as family, laughing around the dinner table, but she had no idea what it would feel like.

  “Do you want that someday?” she asked. “A big family of your own?”

  His fingers were still toying with the edges of her hairline and he purposely lost himself in the task for a while. “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

  She thought he would end it there, but he was surprising her a lot today.

  “There are a lot of things I need to deal with…a lot I need to change before then.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, firstly I’m a dick, incapable of maintaining a relationship. Girls don’t stay with me for very long. Secondly, I’m…I’m fucked up inside…and to bring someone into the shit storm that is my life right now…it just wouldn’t be fair. But…maybe someday I’ll move past it, though I’m not sure when that might be.”

  He gave her a short, sad smile and carried on playing with her hair. She was still trying to digest the shock. She didn’t think he would ever talk to her so openly and this new information caused her imagination to run wild. She had many theories, but the most prominent one was that there was a girl involved, a girl who had probably cheated on him…with Perry. It was the only theory that explained why he was reluctant to get into a relationship and why he and Perry were no longer friends. It just didn’t answer why he was on his way to Florida, but she was hoping that he was willing to open up to her a bit more.

  She waited a minute and gathered enough courage to ask her next question. “Is it…is it because of what happened between you and Perry?” She nervously chewed on her lower lip. “Is that what you need to deal with?”

  He froze, his fingers immediately balling into fists. Unlike at the Grand Canyon, he didn’t even consider the option of telling her. The walls she’d been chipping away at for the last hour immediately came up again. He shifted on the bench, letting her know that her head was no longer welcome on his lap. She lifted off him and he stood up, running both hands through his hair before clasping them together at the back of his head. He looked stressed and anxious as he paced up and down a few times, but, more than anything, he looked…hurt. Tears lined his eyes and she didn’t know what to say to make it right, to take them back to the place they were just two minutes ago.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Jasmin…” It came out strained because he was gritting his teeth, grinding them hard against each other. “…from now until we part ways, the topic of…Perry…” The name caught in his throat and he took a few seconds to compose himself, as if saying it broke something inside him. “…the topic of Perry is always…always off limits.”

  He moved swiftly to the other side of the laundromat and, with a trembling hand, he shoved the glass door open and walked out.

  THAT NIGHT

  Three months ago…

  Kevin opened his eyes and waited for his blurred vision to refocus. The smell of burnt rubber hung in the air. His body was stiff from the impact and as he looked around, he noticed that everything was upside down. The car had flipped and was now lying on its roof. He was the only one in there, because despite the fact that he always harped on about it like a nagging mother, he was the only one who ever wore a seatbelt. He needed to find the rest of them. The details were fuzzy, but he remembered the force flinging Perry through the windshield.

  There was blood everywhere, but the only pain he felt was a burn down his forearm so it couldn’t have possibly come from him.

  He unclipped the seatbelt and allowed his body to collapse against the crumpled roof. The window was broken, so he climbed through, carefully crawling around the shards of shattered glass on the street. Once he was out, he struggled to get to his feet. He was dizzy and disoriented. He looked around, but the only light came from the headlights of Clayton’s car and it didn’t do much to aid his search. A strained groan took his eyes to the back of the car, where he saw Clayton lying in the middle of the road.

  “Fuck!”

  Kevin immediately raced towards him and as he got closer, the sight he encountered brought him to an abrupt halt. Shock made him freeze for a few seconds. Clayton’s legs were completely mangled from the knees down, jagged pieces of broken bone had ripped straight through his jeans. He dropped to his knees beside Clayton, frantic and panicked. “Oh, God…Clay…Oh, God…I’m gonna…I’m gonna get help.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked but it still worked. His trembling fingers punched in 911 and the rest was a blur. His sentences were broken and unstructured as he spoke to the operator. All he remembered telling her was their location before he hung up again.

  “Clay,” he said, shifting around him so he could hook his hands under Clayton’s arms, “I’m gonna try and get you off the road, okay?”

  All he got in response was another pain-filled groan.

  He didn’t know if it was a good idea to move him, but it was dark and they’d hit something in the road. It could happen to another driver and he wasn’t going to take a risk by leaving Clayton lying there while he searched for Perry and Shandré. He lifted Clayton’s upper body, and very carefully and very slowly, he dragged his body to side of the road.

  “Clay.” He tapped his cheek until his eyes fluttered opened. “I need to find Perry and I need you to stay awake, so just focus on something and keep talking.”

  “I’m okay, Kev.”

  Kevin looked down at his legs and his stomach turned over. “You’re not. You’re losing a lot of blood and I need you to do something to stay awake. Sing or something.”

  “Okay,” he replied weakly.

  “Just keep singing until I get back.”

  He stood up as Clayton began singing Bridge Over Troubled Waters. It was the worst song he could’ve chosen, but Kevin didn’t care. He walked down the side of the road, but he only made it ten feet before he fell to the ground. The mixed smell of burnt rubber and blood, the sight of Clayton’s mangled legs, he couldn’t take it. He threw up, choking on beer and bile as it hurtled out his throat.<
br />
  Clayton’s voice was getting softer and weaker.

  “Sing, Clayton!” he shouted before hurling more vomit onto the sand.

  Clayton carried on singing, but over that he heard a strangled gasp in the distance. He froze, trying to hear over his ragged breathing.

  “Perry!” he shouted, standing up again. “Perry, where are you, man?”

  “I’m here, Kev.”

  Kevin followed the faint sound of his voice through the tall grass until he eventually spotted him. Again, the sight of his best friend made him stop dead in his tracks. A steady stream of blood oozed out of the open wound on the side of his head.

  “Fuck!” Kevin ran both his hands through his hair, clasping them at the back of his head.

  He didn’t know what to do. He was utterly helpless. Two working hands, so eager to assist. Two working legs, ready to run miles to find help. Yet he didn’t have one fucking clue what to do.

  “Perry,” he said, his voice shaking with fear and panic, “help is on the way.”

  He crouched down beside him and carefully lifted his head onto his lap. Whipping off his T-shirt, he used it to cover the wound, hoping it would stop the bleeding. But the red flow was relentless, instantly seeping through the material. The smell was nauseating and he felt more bile rise up from his empty stomach.

  “Where’s my girl, Kev?” Perry was so weak, it was barely a whisper.

  He looked around in a vain attempt to find Shandré, feeling even more helpless when his eyes couldn’t find anything in the dark. “I don’t know.”

  “You have to find her.”

  Kevin reached out and took his bloodied hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Please…please go find her…She could be…she could be hurt.”

  “Perry…Fuck!” He gritted his teeth, angry tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He was the only one with the power to do anything and yet he was powerless to do anything at all. “I don’t…I don’t know where she is.”