by Mj Hendrix
She zeroes in on Levi for half a second, opening her mouth and then closing it. She shakes her head and stomps off.
No one moves for at least thirty seconds, the scolding having shaken us all.
“What did you do?” Silas finally mumbles.
They’re all waiting, and I don’t know what to say. Did she expect me to take her to the plant nursery still? Did I imagine the intimacy of the dance while she was truly only wanting a friendship?
My face falls into my hands as a groan escapes my lips.
I wish I could say this out loud, but they would never understand. I can accept that she wants him and walk away, but how am I supposed to be friends with her, knowing she’s going to be kissing him, sleeping in his bed?
I shake my head, convinced there’s no way I can handle it. She can be with him if that’s what she chooses, but I can’t watch, even as a friend.
“If you want her, you should tell her. You never even told her you wanted to be more than friends. Maybe she’s having the same doubts?” Levi speaks up, surprising me with his words.
Hearing someone else voice what I’ve been unable to is liberating.
Dan interjects with reality, “yeah, okay, maybe. If she was a girl you could bring home. I’m not saying she isn’t worth it, but you do realize they will never accept her.”
My brother is referring to our family and hometown church. He’s right, of course. If I choose to date Harley, I would be battling harsh disapproval from my father and most likely tears from my mother. They might eventually accept her, but it would be a fight. Simply because of her physical appearance and background, they would assume the worst about her.
Is that what I’ve been doing?
I’ve typed out at least one hundred messages on my plastic keypad, but I haven’t been able to hit send on any. How do you put into words that you’re sick to your stomach with desire, self-loathing, doubt, jealousy, and the physical need to be near a girl who seems to want another man? It’s certainly not something appropriate for a text.
I find myself outside her dorm like a stalker around one a.m. A girl starts to walk in and holds the door open, smiling at me. The trusting gesture concerns me, but I go in anyway. Anyone could walk in here at night. Once I reach the third floor, I think I know what I’m going to say, if she opens the door to let me speak.
I reach room thirty-four and stare at it for at least five minutes. What if Kyle is here? What if they’re in there right now?
I’m turning away when the door swings open, and Kenna screams.
“Adam! What the hell are you doing, standing outside my door like a freak?!” She slaps my chest with her hand, her face red with anger.
I rush to explain, holding my hands up in defense against another slap. “I’m sorry. I came to talk to Harley, but it’s okay. I was—” I turn away again, but she grabs my arm.
“Harley’s at work.” She lets out a sigh, shaking her curly head. “Look, if you really are sorry, you should go see her there, but only if you mean it and you aren’t going to screw it up again. She’s been through some shit. She doesn’t need any more baggage. If you like her, you get a pass, just this once, for cold feet or whatever it is you’re dealing with.” She finishes with a pointed look.
I groan in frustration. What she’s saying doesn’t make any sense to me.
I start to ramble incoherently, “I just…we said we were just going to be friends, but I really started to…then I talked to Kyle…” I reach a hand up to rub the back of my neck. Remembering Kyle and what happened at the dance makes me doubt my presence here.
Kenna scoffs, “Okay, wow, you have to go talk to her. She will want to know what you’re thinking. I promise she has no idea.” She shoves me out of the doorframe. “Seriously, go to Billy’s Pub on Seventh. She’ll be getting off soon.”
I nod, unsure of why she’s so insistent on it after her earlier disapproving speech at the cafeteria. She shuts the door, walking down the hall. I meander back down to the parking lot, finding my truck.
I drive around for forty-five minutes before finding myself at the pub. I put it in park, trudging up to the oversize wooden door. I try to talk myself out of it before taking a deep breath.
I open it and step inside.
“We’re closing, sor—” Harley’s weary voice breaks off at the sight of me.
“Hey,” is all I can manage, a lump crawling up my throat. I shove my hands in my jean pockets.
“You don’t drink,” she clips, looking away to resume her cleanup around the tables and leather booths.
She’s wearing a skimpy uniform. I’ve seen her in worse, but somehow, her being required to wear this to work at a bar makes my skin crawl. Last time I picked her up, she had an oversize hoodie on. An apron is tied around her tiny denim skirt. The too-small white tank top with the pub’s name printed across her chest reveals some of her tanned stomach. Her hair is up in a thick, high ponytail, her neck exposed. Every aspect of her body is divine. Why is it so difficult to be around her and think clearly?
I clear my throat, “I wanted to…make sure you had a ride home.” It’s only a partial lie.
She looks me up and down, rolls her eyes, and turns around. She walks through a door into the back. I run my hand over my head, debating whether or not I should take the hint and leave. I can’t let her walk home alone…
She emerges several minutes later with a small black purse and no apron. She ignores me and walks out the door. I pinch my nose, following her out.
“Listen, if Kyle had the decency to drive you home, I wouldn’t be here.” My tone is harsh, but it gets her attention.
She stops in her tracks and flips around, eyes blazing. “Why the hell would I want that creep to drive me home?” she grits out.
I take a step back, shocked at her words. “So, he can feel you up, but driving you home is too intimate?” I’m nearly shouting in the deserted street.
She raises up to her full height, stepping toward me. “You think I enjoyed him feeling me up? You think I asked for it? You think I’m a whore, so of course, I just enjoy random men groping me in public? Is that it, Adam?” She’s shouting back at me, her hands gesturing along with her words. “Cool. Got it. Glad I finally know what you really think of me.” Her voice cracks at the end of her speech.
Her words sting my insides.
She flips around, facing the opposite direction of the dorms, and begins to march away, arms folded over her chest.
Was he playing me this entire time, and I was too naive to read into it?
My feet run toward her. I catch her, gripping her shoulders.
“Harley—” I plead.
She peers up at me, tears brimming her bright blue eyes. Her lip is quivering, causing my heart to shatter.
“He said you were…he made it seem like you were a thing…and then I saw him grab you, and you didn’t—you never pushed him away.” I’m stumbling over the words, trying to make sense of what I saw. “I watched, and I thought that…I thought that I was stupid for wanting to be more than friends if you were really with him. If you were going to sleep with him, which is what he told me,” I finish, tilting my head to the side and pleading with my eyes for her to understand my confusion and embarrassment.
Her mouth drops open, blue eyes wide.
“He said we would be…sleeping together?” she whispers the words. “He’s just a pervert that hits on me all the time. He never takes no for an answer…” She presses a hand against her forehead and closes her eyes.
I take another step toward her, craving the feel of her under my fingers.
“Okay, okay…I believe you. Why would you…why did you let him put his hands on you?” My teeth clench as I remember the act and how intrusive it was.
She scoffs, “LET HIM? Again, I will say, do you really think I enjoyed it or asked for his hands up my skirt?”
I close my eyes. “You could have—”
She cuts me off, throwing my hands off of her, “I did, Adam
! As soon as I survived a panic attack, I came to my senses and slapped his cocky, smug face! You have no earthly idea what it’s like to be taken advantage of, to be used and touched and—and you just freeze up—and—and—”
She breaks off into a sob, sinking to the filthy sidewalk, her hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the sound.
I follow her down, gripping her shoulders and pulling her into my chest. I pray my touch is comforting, but I can’t just let her sit here, crying without consolation.
I reach under her knees, lifting her effortlessly into my arms. She immediately presses her face into my shoulder, the sobs shaking her body.
13
Harley
The feeling of being lifted into strong, muscular arms is euphoric. The scent of earth and cedar is overwhelming, and it reminds me of that rare sense of peace and security, which I’ve only ever had tiny glimpses of.
My body is being placed into the warm, comforting seat of his old pickup. The tears have subsided, so I wipe my cheeks with the backs of my hands. As I suck in several deep breaths, my heart rate slowly returns to normal.
The door closes, and another reopens, the vehicle shifting with his weight. The engine roars to life, loud and masculine. I open my eyes as he lifts me up again, shifting me over to sit next to him, his arm around me.
“Careful. I might get used to this,” I mumble, resting my head against his shoulder.
He sighs. “Please do. I want nothing more.”
He removes his arm to shift the gear into drive. I feel a chill on the skin he vacated.
“Where are we going?” I ask. My cheek on his warm shoulder is heavenly.
“I wanna take you somewhere.” His voice is steady.
I reach my hand up to loop it under his elbow, resting it on his thigh. He tenses up momentarily before relaxing into my touch. I get the sense he’s never sat so intimately with a girl.
“Okay, take me away, Farm Boy.” I sigh contentedly, suddenly feeling drowsy.
He chuckles. “Whatever happened to the movie night I was promised?”
As he speaks, he reaches his gear-shifting hand down to gently graze his fingertips on the inside of my left knee. Shivers shoot up my leg at the contact. His large hand wraps around the inside of my thigh, a respectful distance from my lady bits. He sighs indulgently, relaxing into the seat.
“You’ll get your movie night,” I mumble into his shoulder.
My lips curl up slightly, and my mind is fuzzy as we drive. My eyelids droop down as the rumbling of the engine puts me to sleep.
I wake to silence and something firm and warm under my face. I jolt up, unsure of where I am.
“Hey, it’s me.” Adam’s husky voice washes over me, calming my fear.
His face is shadowed inside the truck. The air feels thick as his gleaming eyes look over me.
“Where are we?” I ask shakily.
“Come see.” He opens the door and steps out into the night, then holds out his hand.
I reach out and take it, crawling out of the truck. He doesn’t let go.
Leading me through the moonlit trees, he starts to explain, “We came out here to dig up some trees for the nursery. During the day, it wasn’t much, but I figured at night, it would be worth seeing again.”
He points to a freshly dug-up hole in the ground.
“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” I tease.
He stops. Still holding my hand, he reaches his other one up to caress my upper arm. “If you are ever uncomfortable with me…just tell me, and we can leave. Okay? I want you to feel safe.” His voice is somber, fingers still brushing over me.
My heart squeezes. “Adam, I feel entirely safe and comfortable with you. I was only teasing because of the holes.” I tilt my head up. “But your touch drives me…insane,” I say with an exhale. Confessing my feelings to him is terrifying.
His mouth falls open. He hesitates for a moment.
“Insane in a…good way?” His voice is strained.
I laugh. “Yes, a very good way. Also a way that makes me all tingly.” I squeeze his hand.
He licks his lips. His fingertips are trailing up my arm, over my collarbone, and onto my jaw. He slowly caresses it for a moment before he leans his head down. My breath hitches at the unexpected contact. His is coming out raggedly. Just before his lips touch mine, he turns his head and presses a tender kiss to my cheek. Lifting his head, he pauses for a moment, gazing into my eyes.
“You are so beautiful.” His voice is a hoarse whisper.
I’ve never felt so cherished in my life. How have I wasted any time with another boy when a man like this exists in the universe? His gentle touch on my jaw has drifted back down as he explores the shape of my collarbone. I can’t take much more of this without him kissing me up against a tree, much less gently.
“Were you going to show me something?” My tone is breathy and uneven.
A smile lifts on his mouth. “Yes. I’m sorry; I just want to touch you. Your skin is like velvet. I wondered…” He trails off, leaving me curious. “This way.”
His hand is still holding mine as he leads the way. Less than a minute later, we break through the trees, and I see an enormous structure in front of us. As we approach, I realize it’s actually three separate round cylinders. They’re all rusty with chipping paint.
“What are they?”
I saw something like them on the side of the road on my bus ride to Texas.
“They’re old silos. These most likely held grain ages ago. We still use them on the farm. Come around here.”
He directs me around to the back side of them, which opens up to a wide field. I pull out my phone, turning on the flashlight.
“Wow, that’s cool. Maybe I do need a smartphone,” he says, surprise in his tone.
I laugh. “Well, I’m a little afraid there’s going to be a snake in the grass.”
“Hmm, it is copperhead birthing season.”
My heart stops at his words. “You’re kidding me. Let’s go back. Seriously, Adam.” My voice is shrill.
He starts to chuckle. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you. People rarely ever die from snakebites anyways, okay?”
I can barely make out the smile on his face. “Rarely? Okay, I don’t exactly want to take any chances!” My city-girl bones run deep.
His smile fades. “Well, if you really want to go back, we can, but we’re almost there.”
He waits patiently for me to decide as I survey the grass around us.
“Ugh, okay, only because you have me curious.”
I’m genuinely willing to risk a snakebite just to spend more time with him.
“Okay, let’s go. Here.” He lets go of my hand, but before I can protest, he sweeps me up into his strong arms.
I make a little eek sound, surprised and delighted to get spoiled twice in one night. “Okay, seriously, if you keep spoiling me like this, I’ll be ruined for every other man,” I joke.
My hand clutches his shirtfront as he easily carries me over toward the silos.
“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” he muses as we get closer.
My flashlight reveals a rusty ladder.
“Okay, so usually, these ladders are made well enough to withstand the elements, but I want to test it to make sure, okay? I’m going to set you down. We would’ve scared away any snakes, walking up.”
He waits for me to approve, so I nod. He lowers my feet down to the ground.
“What if you fall?” I ask, concern etching my tone.
“Then, I guess you’ll have to call an ambulance with your fancy phone.” He winks at me, reaching his thick arms up to grip the bar. He lifts himself onto the high ladder effortlessly, starting to climb. He pulls on each ring before going up.
Once he’s gone all the way, he comes back down, jumping to the ground.
“Okay, it’s good to go. You ready?”
He’s got a big grin on his face, and his excitement fuels me.
“Okay, but if I die, they’ll say
you brought me out here for nefarious purposes and dug a hole to bury me, you know.”
I turn off my flashlight, shoving it in my back pocket.
“I’ll have to give you a boost,” he says.
I look up to see the first rung is about equal with my eyeline. He comes up behind me, kneeling down in the grass on one knee. The pose completely catches me off guard, and I stare down at him for a few seconds.
“Umm…what are you doing?” My mouth is agape. Surely, this isn’t some strange backwoods tradition of…
“I’m giving you a boost. Put your foot on my knee and climb up,” he says, confusion pinching his brow.
I let out a sigh of relief, my hand pressing against my chest. “Okay, cool. I got this.”
I step up onto his knee with my no-slip black work shoes, reaching up both hands to grip the bottom rung.
“What did you think I was doing?” he asks, grunting as he does most of the work, lifting me up onto the ladder.
“Uhh, nothing. Just confused.” I step on the creased edge of the silo, using it as a foothold to climb all the way onto the ladder.
“Okay…” he mumbles under his breath as he stands up.
I climb a little higher before I hear him grunting and look down to see him hoisting his body up onto the ladder. His shoulder muscles flex with the effort, and I feel a little warm. Once he’s on, he looks up at me. His smile fades, and he jerks his eyes away.
“Uhh, Harley…maybe you should climb up, and I’ll…just go up after you,” he mutters, keeping his eyes off of me.
“What? No way! I’m terrified of falling. Can you get closer, please?” My voice rises with panic. “I’m slightly afraid of heights.”
He doesn’t move, but I can hear him blow out a breath.
“Okay, uh, I would, but…you’re wearing a short skirt, and I, uh…” He clears his throat. “I can see your…your…I can see up it.”
I can’t see his face, but I would bet it’s as crimson as the thong I’m wearing.
“Oh…well then, what color are my panties?” I ask casually.