by Jay McLean
We pulled apart from the kiss, but not each other. My hands gripped her waist, her hands fisted into my shirt. "Does he know?" I whispered.
"I don't know," she whispered back.
Then we slowly, and simultaneously, turned to face Ethan.
He smirked, sauntered over to Lexi and put his arm around her shoulders. "Luckily, she's moved on to bigger and better things.
***
By the tenth hole, we were plastered. Beyond wasted. I couldn't feel my body, let alone how sore it could be. Everything was numb. Amanda had to hold me up. "It wears off real quick," Amanda told me.
"I just want to make out with you all the time."
"What?" She laughed.
"Your ass."
She laughed again. "You're not making much sense, babe."
I shrugged as we watched Tristan take his eleventy-third shot, all whilst Ethan and Alexis pointed and laughed at him. Then I felt her hand curl around my arm, and all of a sudden I was being dragged away. She took me to a spot hidden by a palm tree and a mini windmill. "Oooh, I like your thinking," I told her. She pressed her body lightly against mine and tilted her head to the side, allowing me access to start kissing her neck. Her fingers curled into my hair.
"I'm sorry." She sighed. "I feel bad, like I should be really pissed at Ethan for what he did to you, not be out here laughing and hanging out with him he hasn't even said sorry yet."
"It's fine." I sucked lightly on her shoulder. "It could be worse. He could've just beaten the shit out of me and forbid us to see each other."
She snorted. "Forbid? What is this? The eighteen hundreds? Besides, you really think anyone can stop us from seeing each other?"
I pulled back and watched as her face searched mine, waiting for an answer. I wanted to tell her that they could. That I respected Ethan enough that if he said we couldn't, then I wouldn't. But I couldn't lie to her. "Truth?"
"No," she answered. "Lie to me."
"I don't think anything, or anyone, is ever going to keep me away from you. I love you way too much. You're my heart, my world, my light."
***
Amanda was right. Whatever Ethan had in the flask was killer, but it did wear off quick enough. By the time we'd gotten home, my body was still numb, but my mind was sobering up. It was the same for all of us, which meant only one thing.
Beers in the backyard.
The girls stayed inside, something about catching up on TV. I heard them giggling about some guy who got cast in that Fifty Shades movie. Whatever.
Half an hour later, we were a mess again.
"I can't believe the shit Amanda said last night." Ethan's cap was pulled low on his head as he eyed the night sky.
"What part?" Tristan asked.
I sat up and waited for Ethan to speak.
"That shit—you know, how she blames herself for what happened that night."
I kicked my legs out in front of me. "I know, right? Like it's anyone's fault but mine."
"Psshh," he replied. "Dude, it's not your fault, either."
My eyes narrowed at him. "How is it not—"
"You know what I think?" Tristan cut in, putting his finger up in the air like he was preparing to enlighten us with a piece of wisdom. "I think it's human nature to blame yourself. When things fuck up in life, you always want to find a reason for it. There has to be a reason, right? Bad things don't just happen, especially to good people.
"So we sit around and try to make sense of it all, and the only sense we can make is that we probably deserved it, so we make up these ideas in our heads." He linked his fingers behind his head and stretched out. "Like, maybe if I didn't eat that cookie when we were thirteen that caused your best friends to fight for months, then maybe I wouldn't have turned out gay." I didn't miss the knowing look he gave Ethan before continuing. "Like that night—for months I blamed myself, too."
"What?" Ethan asked.
I just sat there and let his words sink in.
"Yeah, remember how I asked the cab driver to pull over so I could take a piss? What would've happened if I didn't? Maybe we would've got here on time, maybe the same time as them. It could've all been prevented."
"That's stupid," I said.
He shrugged. "About as stupid as you thinking that you being related to assholes is your fault."
"Agreed." Ethan raised his beer.
"Wait." I turned to Ethan. "You don't think it's my fault? The shit that happened that night? You're pissed at me. There must be a part of you that blames me."
He shook his head and looked me like I was stupid. "I never blamed you for that night. I'm pissed because you left. I mean—I'm sure you have your reasons, but to me—you took the pussy way out. It's not just that you left Amanda, but you and me—we were friends, we were housemates, we saw each other every day. When you left her, you left me, too.
"And it's not just about me having to take care of her, dealing with her crying about missing you, or her being scared or whatever. I'm pissed at you because you should've been there, too. You should've been the one to help her heal. I didn't know what to do half the time. And I was bitter as fuck because I knew you'd know what to do. You always knew what to do with her. Fuck's sake, you got her to quit being afraid of the rain. I'd been trying for years, and then you show up and make it all better. You could've made it all better for her, and I didn't know how to. That's why I was pissed.
"Then one day I open the mailbox, and there's a letter from you—and I could tell straight away, just from the look on her face, that she was still in love with you. That pissed me off more. And then you come back and she just forgives you, like she forgot all the shit you put her through . . . but I get it now. Lexi talked to me about it last night. Dimmy—she doesn't see it that way. She doesn't blame you for any of it—even the leaving part. And I get it. She remembers things differently. While I was trying to get her to stop crying from missing you—she was doing exactly that—just missing you. When I thought she was having nightmares about what those assholes did to her—truth is—she was dreaming about what they did to you. We experienced things differently. She's crazy, stupid in love with you, and I wouldn't have understood it, not until I started dating Lexi. Now I'm crazy, stupid in love with her, and it all kind of makes sense."
I stayed silent, replaying his words verbatim in my mind. I looked into the house to where Amanda was in her Hello Kitty pajamas, laughing with Lexi. I turned back to Ethan and opened my mouth to speak, but his hand in the air stopped me. "You don't need to say anything. I get it."
I'm glad he said that, because I had no idea what I was about to say.
Tristan sighed, his body slumping further down in his chair. "You guys are making me want to turn straight."
We laughed quietly.
"You think it's funny. If I could get girls like Dimmy and Lexi, I probably would."
Ethan sat up now, paying full attention to his best friend. "I'm sure there are plenty of guys interested in you."
Tristan raised an eyebrow.
"Fine," Ethan conceded. "I really don't know shit about your love life. Is that weird? Do you want me to ask you about it? I mean . . ." He shrugged. "I just don't know how open you want to be about it all."
The living room door slid open and Amanda stuck her head out. "You guys coming to bed?"
"Yeah, in a minute," we said in unison, then laughed.
Lexi snorted. "It's like we're nagging housewives and they're forty."
They closed the door, and Tristan continued. "I wish I was straight."
"Don't be gay," Ethan joked. "You can't choose that shit."
Tristan belched. "I know. But sometimes I'll be sitting on the sofa and Amanda will walk in, in her tight gym shorts and her sports bra, and her goddamn perfect ass—"
"Whoa," I said, at the same time as Ethan said, "Gross, dude."
Tristan laughed. "Just bear with me here. I'm trying to prove a point." His eyes were half closed, the alcohol clearly affecting him. "So she walks in wearing barely anything with
this killer body, and I look down at my dick," he lowers his head to look down at his junk, ". . . and I stare at it, thinking, just get hard, just once, if she can't do it for you . . . then there's no hope."
By now, I've started laughing.
He kept on, getting more animated. "I'm like, Come on, kid!" he shouted. "Get. Hard." He got louder. "GET A FUCKING HARD-ON!" He was screaming now. Ethan was on the ground laughing. I held my ribs, trying to ease the pain. The image of a twenty-two-year-old jock like Tristan yelling at his dick to get hard was just too fucking much.
"I'LL GIVE YOU A DOLLAR! JUST GIVE ME A BONER!"
***
I was still laughing when I got into bed with Amanda.
"What's funny?"
I shook my head, containing my laugh.
"What?" she asked through a smile.
"Just Tristan—trying to get hard when he looks at your ass."
"What?" she squealed.
"Nothing, babe." I was still buzzed. "I can't even explain it right now."
She didn't press further, just pulled the sheets up to her chin and got more comfortable.
"You didn't take your Xanax again."
I shrugged. "I'm fine, babe, honestly."
She scooted closer, resting her head on my chest. "Will it hurt if I hug you?"
"Not sure, try it."
She did. "Does it hurt?"
"No." Lie.
"What did you and Ethan talk about?"
"A lot of stuff."
She kissed my chest once. My fingers played with her hair. "Are you going to tell me, or is it some kind of guy code or something?"
"It's not a guy code, it's just something between me and Ethan, and I think I'd prefer it to stay that way."
"Okay," she said suspiciously.
"It's nothing bad. You just mean a lot to both of us, that's all."
She sighed. "So are things going to be okay with you two? And with us?"
"Yes." Truth.
31
Logan
I waited for her at the bar while she finished up her shift. We'd spent every spare second together since the blow up at her house. That was a week ago.
"All done." She untied her apron and threw it in the air dramatically. "I have the weekend off and I'm going to spend every single second of it attached to you, and you better not complain." She pointed her finger at me with her lips pursed. As if I'd ever complain about that.
"Shit," I teased. "I kind of planned on seeing my other girlfriends at some point."
She gasped in mock horror. "Well," she said, her nose up in the air as she made her way to the exit. I watched her ass as she did. "You better tell them to go easy on you. You should be healed well enough to let me do . . ." She spun around and started walking backwards. ". . . some really, dirty, dirty things to you."
I grunted.
Legit, grunted.
I quickened my pace to catch up to her. "What kind of dirty things?" I asked, putting my arm around her and bending low so only she could hear.
She shrugged. "I dunno," she said, then pinched my ear. Hard. "Tell me again about these so-called other girlfriends?"
I pulled back, laughing. She let go of my ear. "I love when you get jealous. It's such a fucking turn on."
We got to my truck and I opened the door for her. She turned around to face me before getting in. "Seriously, how sore are you?" She pulled at my shirt until my chest touched hers.
I shook my head. "Not sore at all."
She wet her lips with fire in her eyes.
I drove home, completely distracted by her hand on my dick.
We were there no longer than a minute before our clothes were off and I was inside her. We had to go slow. I’d lied. I was still a little sore.
***
"Does Micky need me to bring anything tomorrow?"
"No." I spoke into my pillow. I was half asleep when I turned my head in her direction. "I don't even know what it is. I hope it's just the gang, you know?"
She moved in closer so we shared the pillow and her nose touched mine. "It's a good reason to celebrate, though. You being home and all."
I couldn't help the smile that formed. "Yeah? You know what else is a good reason to celebrate?"
"What?"
I put my arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "You."
"Me?"
"Yup. Just you. I love you, Amanda."
She kissed me softly. "I love you so much, Logan."
And just like when I dreamt it, her voice, her words replayed in my head, over and over until sleep consumed me.
***
"Wake up," she whispered against my lips. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the morning light. She hovered above me on her hands and knees, her hair loose and curtaining her face.
I lifted my hand to move it so I could see her clearly. "Jesus Christ . . ."
"Why are you smiling like that?"
I hadn't realized I was. "I'm just happy."
"Why?"
"Because." I paused, searching for the right words. Moving her to the side of me, I kissed each of her wrists. "Because you're here. You're real. And you're mine."
She grinned from ear to ear. "I have a present for you."
"What?" I reared back.
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, not really a present. But . . ." She sat up and reached over to the nightstand and came back with a plate. Five cupcakes. Two with candles. "I missed out on your last birthday, and you didn't get cake the birthday before. So . . ." Her voice was strained as she lit the candles. "Happy birthday, baby. I love you."
I sat up, so we were face to face. I couldn't tear my eyes off her if I’d tried. I took my time, wanting to remember this moment. Savor it. Because ten, twenty, thirty years from now—when I told our kids the moment I knew my nightmares were over, and that my dreams had come true—I'd have every detail clear.
"Babe." She smiled softly. "The candles are going to burn out. You need to make a wish and blow them out."
I didn't need to wish for anything. I had everything I’d ever needed right in front of me. "I love you," I told her, before taking a deep breath and exhaling.
Licking the icing off one, I asked, "Why five cupcakes?"
"Oh." She shrugged. "Two are for me."
My eyebrows bunched. "And the other one?"
Her smile grew. "That's for this." And faster than I thought possible, she'd picked it up and smeared it all over my face. I froze. My body had not yet caught up with my mind. Her giggles got louder and louder.
"You are in so much trouble," I deadpanned, throwing the covers off me and lunging for her. Her high-pitched squeal filled the room, but it was cut off quickly enough when I pinned her body with mine against the floor.
She licked the icing off my face. "Mm," she hummed.
My nose scrunched. "That's kind of gross." I laughed. "I have another place you could lick it off." And like an asshole, I thrust my dick into her leg.
Her eyes widened. "That, Mr. Matthews, is an amazing idea."
And that's how we spent the next two hours. Licking icing off each other.
Best. Non. Birthday. Ever.
***
We were late showing up to Jake's. Who would have thought it would take so long to clean icing off naked bodies? Not that I was complaining. At all.
"So, you've missed out on Lucy versus Jess, Battle of the Brains." Cam laughed. They'd spent the last hour catching me up on shit that had happened the year I was away. It was just the gang, like I'd hoped. "So tell me about this so-called battle." I stretched my arms out and settled one behind Amanda's chair. Her lips turned up at the corners. She did this—noticed the little things I did that came naturally, and she took the time to appreciate them.
"She's a fucking whore," Lucy snapped.
We all laughed.
Cam began the story, "So, this girl is epic pissed at Luce because she's—without fail—top of the class—every time—which is right, because you know Luce, my girl’s wicked
smart." He put on a Boston accent for the last two words, mimicking Good Will Hunting. "But this Jess girl—"
"Whore," Lucy cut in.
We laughed again.
"Anyway," Cam chuckled. "We were at this club a few months back—" "
Lucy intervened. "She's just a fucking whore, Logan. That's all you need to know. Whore. She's been boning the professor since freshman year. The dude's like fifty. It's fucking disgusting."
"Gross," Amanda said from next to me.
Cam laughed. "So Jess—"
"WHORE!" Lucy yelped.
Cam turned to her. "Baby, he gets it. She's a whore." Then he said to me, "So Jess—" He quickly moved to cover Lucy's mouth. "—is at this club, and she purposely spilt her drink all over Lucy. Of course, Lucy got pissed. Wait; she didn't just get pissed, or mad, she like, erupted."
Jake cut in, clicking his fingers in the air, and putting on a girl voice. "Twinkle twinkle little whore, close your legs they're not a door."
We all cracked up, including Lucy.
"She actually sang that one." Cam laughed again. He looked over at me. "She had her pinned against the wall, with her hands on her shoulders. Jess—"
"WHORE!"
Cam shook his head. "Whore's eyes were huge. She didn't think Lucy had it in her. Then Luce made some comment about Whore's breath smelling like wrinkly old-man ball sacs."
Amanda spat out her water, and then started choking on her laughter. I patted her back, but I couldn't hold it together, either.
Classic drunk Lucy was always the best.
"Wait," Micky shouted. "There was one more." She wiped at her eyes as she tried to level her breathing. "Oh, yeah! Did it hurt when you fell from the top of the slut tree and banged every gray-pubed geriatric dick on the way down?"
The roar of our laughter filled the yard.
Lucy just sat quietly with a smile on her face as she drank her beer. She saw me watching her and winked. Fuck, I’d missed her.
***
"Logan," Heidi called out from across the firepit. She didn't wait for conversation to die down. She just cut right in. Everyone turned to her. She hadn't said much during the night. I figured maybe she was embarrassed in front of Amanda for the way she’d treated her the last time we'd seen her, but looking at her now, she was beyond the buzzed state the rest of us were in. She was drunk, which was evident when she mumbled, "You ever think about what would've happened if you and I never broke up? We could've been good—you and me."