A Place Without you

by Jewel E. Ann

  I want to believe her. Henna’s innocence feeds my soul. It calls to me like a savior offering forgiveness. She deserves the truth, but dashing her hopes isn’t how I want to love her. And the indisputable fact is … I love her. It didn’t happen. It just is, was, and always will be.

  “So your mom is Juni, but your dad is just Dad?”

  “Yes.” She returns her gaze to the ceiling, stroking her thumb over the top of mine. “It’s different with him. He was highly ranked and well-respected in the Marines. Calling him something as personal as Dad feels like an honor.”

  I like that. I like Henna’s mind and how it works outside of the box. Her take on life is the cool breeze I love so much on long rides in the mountains. She makes me want to close my eyes and just feel her presence. I guess I, too, need the comfort of just being with her.

  We stay in Alice until 2:00 a.m., mostly enjoying the silence of sharing space, mixed with the occasional random thoughts about school or living in Colorado.

  “You don’t have a curfew?”

  Henna chuckles. “I’m nineteen and they don’t call me Hell for nothing. No. I don’t have a curfew. Do you?”

  A hearty laugh ripples up my chest. “Midnight. I could be grounded when my dad wakes up. So … we’d better call it a night—or a morning.” I release her hand and lift the back of my seat while she does the same thing.

  When I open her door, she slides out and instantly wraps her arms around my midsection, resting her cheek on my chest. “Thank you for putting me in automotive class. I’m quite the natural.”

  I grin, giving my arms permission to hug her back. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “It shouldn’t. Clearly, you thought I would be good at it. Right? Surely, you didn’t put me in a class you thought I’d fail just to teach me some bullshit lesson.”

  She doesn’t see me cringe. “Never.” I release her.

  Henna pulls her hoodie sleeves down to cover her hands. “Tell Duke and Leo thanks for the ride.”

  “Speaking of rides. How are you getting home?”

  “Two legs.”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  “It’s a mile. No big deal.”

  “It’s dark and two in the morning. That makes it a big deal. I’ll drive you.” I open the door.

  She rolls her eyes and climbs into Alice. Less than five minutes later, we’re parked at the gate to her estate. I jump out and open her door.

  “Such a gentleman.” She climbs out, pulling her hood over her head.

  I glance at the gate. “Katy Perry Teenage Dream?”

  “Retina scan or fingerprint.”

  Shaking my head, I rub the back of my neck. “Such a different world.”

  “I told you I live—”

  “I know. You have a bedroom all to yourself, a bathroom all to yourself, and a kitchen all to yourself.”

  Her head whips back. “Wow. Could you be a bigger dick about it?”

  I take a step toward her, and she steps away from me. “Henna, I didn’t mean it like you think.”

  “Spoiled rich girl. Entitled. Self-absorbed.”

  “Those aren’t my words.”

  “They’re implied when you say things like that about me. I didn’t ask for this life, and I’m not complaining about it either. My shoes are off bargain racks, and my clothes are from thrift stores because that’s my personality. That’s the life I’ve chosen regardless of the one I was born into.”

  “Okay.” I hold up my hands. “I was really just joking around. Clearly, I hit a nerve, and I apologize.”

  “Don’t say that.” She deflates. “Now I feel like a bitch for going off on you.”

  “It’s fine. I’m tired. I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s just call it a night.” I take slow steps back to the van.

  “Bodhi.” She frowns.

  “Goodnight.”

  “Bodhi …” She shuffles toward my van.

  I shake my head. “We’re good. Get through the gate so I know you’re safe.” I shut the door, letting my mind sort out the night’s events, my emotions, and my reality. She’s a student of mine. We have no business spending most of the night together.

  Henna exposes whatever body part magically opens the gate, and she gives me a final wave. I lift two fingers from the steering wheel to wave back and drive my insane self home.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Henna

  MY NEW DAILY schedule …

  Third period in Mr. Malone’s office during the week and weekends with Bodhi in Alice. This keeps me equally satisfied and painfully tortured at the same time. He holds my hand in Alice. I hug him goodnight, pressing a kiss to his chest. That’s what he gives me. Since I do love him, I let that be enough.

  “Do I want to know?” Mr. Malone asks me as I enter his office the Monday of homecoming week.

  I pop out my earbuds. “It’s superhero day.” I close the door behind me.

  “Leggings, a cape, and a diaper?” He scratches his chin, pushing back in his chair and propping his red boots up on his desk. Captain America has never looked so sexy.

  “They’re underwear. Don’t be stupid.”

  “Underwear? Still doesn’t make sense.”

  “Captain Underpants.”

  Bodhi coughs on a laugh. “Why doesn’t that surprise me about you? Of course, you’re mocking superhero day in your own special way.”

  “I take offense.”

  He crosses his superhero arms over his red, white, and blue chest. “When did you come up with that idea?”

  Looking at my watch, I shrug. “Forty-five minutes ago.”

  “Well, Thursday will be your day—the seventies.”

  “Are you done making fun of me, Mr. Malone? It’s so unprofessional. I feel bullied. Should I report you for bullying?”

  He grins. “Do you have a dress for the dance?”

  “I will.”

  “Seriously? You don’t have one yet?” His eyes widen.

  “Juni will have something. It will be too OTT, and I’ll end up grabbing something from a thrift store. It’s not my first school dance, Mr. Malone. Besides, since it’s after the game, there’s no real dress code. You’ll see some kids quite casual and others dressed to the nines.”

  He nods as his smile dies. “I saw you and Warren getting coffee yesterday afternoon. I was in town getting supplies with Duke.”

  I adjust the tablecloth I’m using for large underpants. “Warren is a sweetheart. We get coffee most Sundays.”

  Lines form along Bodhi’s forehead. “You were getting into his car.”

  “Yeah. He drives since I don’t.”

  “He kissed you.” Mr. Malone disappears. It’s just Bodhi and Henna.

  “It was a kiss. He likes to kiss me. It doesn’t really mean anything.”

  Bodhi rubs the tension from his wrinkled forehead. “He’s going to want to do more than kiss you this weekend. And I know this because I’m not that old, and I remember my senior homecoming. So it doesn’t make him a bad guy, just a guy.”

  “Well, I trust him. And he’s not going to take anything that’s not his to take.”

  “I’m not …” He sits up, resting his elbows on the desk. “I’m not implying that. I’m saying you’re clearly attracted to him. Maybe it’s not something he takes. Maybe it’s something you give him because you want to.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Henna—”

  “Don’t Henna me. It’s not his. It’s yours. And nothing will change that.”

  Burying his face in his hands, he grumbles something undecipherable.

  “Since we met in the spring, have you dated anyone else?”

  Bodhi glances up, confusion marring his handsome features. “No. My sister came to stay with our dad while I was at Coachella. It’s the one time each year I can leave. The rest of the year I spend with him. Duke’s wife, Etta, watches him when I’m here, but after that, he’s my responsibility. I don’t have time to date. That’s not my life. But you can and
you should.”

  “Well, if you’re not having sex, then why should I need to have it?”

  “Henna …” He shakes his head. I didn’t think he could look more pained. I was wrong. “It’s not that I … what I mean is …” Bodhi sighs.

  My stomach tightens and my chest constricts my lungs, making it hard to breathe. “Sex,” I say on an exhale of disbelief. “You don’t date, but you … Jesus!” Standing, I slide my bag over my shoulder. “I feel so stupid. Just…” I shake my head “…so fucking stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid.”

  I grunt. “You’re right. I’m smart. Clearly, you’ve seen my grades. Straight A’s so far this semester, even in automotive class. Ha!” Letting my palm bounce off my forehead, my jaw hangs in the air a few moments. “Now it makes sense. Put Henna in a class with all guys and surely one of them will find their way into her pants.” Choking on the words, I will away the true emotion that’s like a machete slicing through my heart. “Does giving my body to someone else make you feel less guilty for hooking up with random women while your dad naps, or is it that you just don’t want to have sex with someone as inexperienced as me?”

  “Hen—”

  “No.” I hold up my hand and grab the doorknob with my other hand. “Don’t answer that. We are done. I’ll text Warren and let him know he’s the lucky recipient of my virginity.” I make it out the door and halfway to the restroom before the first tear falls. I made up the story about making out with the guy in Monaco. He tried to kiss me, but my lips weren’t his to kiss. I just wanted to make Bodhi jealous. But what did it matter? Bodhi was fucking complete strangers. I wouldn’t relinquish a single kiss, while he gave disgusting, skanky women everything.

  Resisting the urge to skip out on the rest of the day, I finish my classes and walk home in my Captain Underpants outfit, earning a few honks along the way, mostly from kids who know me. Juni and Zach are gone until Friday. She’ll swoop in with a dress that costs several grand, and I’ll surprise her by actually wearing it because Warren deserves to see me in Christian Dior before I give him my virginity.

  When I’m no longer a virgin, I’ll tell Juni all the things most girls can’t tell their moms. I’ll tell her how it hurt and how he finished five seconds after we started. But because it’s Warren, I’m sure he’ll hold me and make me feel special. Warren actually thinks I am special. Maybe “Henna and Warren” is a better fit.

  I contemplate all of this as I get so high I pass out, not my usual MO with marijuana, but sometimes the only thing that takes the pain completely away is the loss of consciousness.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Bodhi

  “YOU GONNA TELL me what’s wrong?” my dad asks as I sort my mixed vegetables into their own piles on my dinner plate.

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “My legs don’t work, but my mind is just fine. I’m not elderly, suffering from dementia, or flat-out stupid. I know you. Something has you more miserable than your normal self-inflicted doom and gloom.”

  I can’t tell him about Henna. That’s not a road I can go down now or maybe ever. Keeping him alive involves never letting him think I’m miserable because of his circumstances. College was for him, not for me. Sure, we needed the money, but he needed to feel that I was doing something for myself. Now I have a job, and I only share the good things about it.

  “I have a student that’s suffering with some personal issues. It’s frustrating for me to not feel like I can really help her without overstepping my role as her guidance counselor.” Truth.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I nod, forcing a smile. “I see that Etta made brownies. What are the chances that you let her make them without marijuana?”

  He chuckles. I’ve missed his laugh. He seems to find it when he senses I’m happy. It’s a daunting responsibility to know that not only does his physical wellbeing depend on me, but his emotional one does too.

  “No pot. And she made ice cream too. Does that make up for your bad week?”

  It’s Friday. There will be a game. A dance. And the woman I love will have sex with someone else. Maybe Etta should have put pot in the brownies. It’s been a fucking miserable week without seeing Henna. I hurt her, and I don’t know how to make it right.

  Forcing a smile, I nod to my dad. How can I be his everything and hers too? That’s just it … I can’t. So I make the only choice there is to make.

  “Brownies and ice cream it is.” I go through the motions, living the life I earned.

  *

  Henna

  “STUNNING.” JUNI SMILES at my reflection in the mirror.

  “It’s beautiful.” I smooth my hands over the soft blue dress.

  “Your eyes shine so bright in it. Warren will love it.” She hands me my silver clutch before adjusting a few pins holding my hair up in a messy bun. I pop another gummy into my mouth.

  Juni frowns, stilling her hands. “Are you dealing with pain tonight?”

  Chewing slowly, I nod, but it’s not my back. It’s my heart.

  “I’m sorry. Of all nights…”

  I shrug. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

  Concern cuts deep into her perfect face. “Are you sure it’s your back?”

  I nod, finding it hard to speak because I’m in a sexy dress for a guy who’s not Bodhi, and nothing has ever felt more wrong in my life.

  “Henna,” she presses. “It’s him. Bodhi?”

  Swallowing, I take a deep breath before speaking slowly. “I can have perfect makeup tonight …” Taking in another shaky breath, I continue, “Or we can talk about this.”

  Juni nods in understanding. After a few silent seconds, she gently wraps her hands around my bare arms. “A wise young girl once told me, ‘Don’t sweat it. Everything is temporary.’”

  I laugh a little. “Yeah … well, it started with you, but I think it’s also the mantra of everyone who experiences chronic back pain. It’s how we wake up each morning.”

  “As your mom, I’m so grateful that you do in fact wake up each morning. And…” she holds up a hand before I speak because she knows what I’m going to say “…I’m saying it for myself, not for you. So don’t feel like it’s a speech about you needing to look on the bright side or to show a little more gratitude. I’m so incredibly proud of all that you’ve accomplished in the past three years.”

  The doorbell rings. It’s Warren. Here goes nothing … just my virginity. I navigate my way down the stairs.

  “Wow!” He stumbles back with his hand over his heart.

  Juni and Zach smile. I don’t have to read their minds. Of course they want to know why I can’t fall for a nice young man like Warren. Well, they’ll have to ask Bodhi Malone. He just sort of happened, and as much as I wish at this moment that I could make him un-happen, I can’t. So even if I take off my clothes for Warren and give him my body … even if I try to love him in my mind, my heart will always know the truth.

  “You look very handsome, Warren,” Juni says, bringing me out of my wandering reflections.

  “Yes.” I jump to agree. “You do.”

  Warren smiles.

  “Good game tonight,” Zach adds.

  “Thank you, Mr. Phillips.”

  “Well, we’d better get going.” I hug Zach and Juni.

  My mom whispers in my ear. “It’s your night. It’s whatever you want it to be. It’s your decision. Just be safe.”

  For once, I know she’s giving me her blessing to stay Henna the Virgin, and her be safe is not a condom reference. It’s a good old-fashioned “fasten your seatbelt and don’t drink and drive.”

  “Love you,” I whisper back. “Ready?”

  Warren nods, looking truly handsome in his black suit as he offers me his arm. I take it and follow him to his Subaru all washed up for the evening.

  We meet several other couples for a quick dinner before the dance. My high keeps me smiling but fairly mute during dinner. Warren occasionally reaches under the table and sque
ezes my hand, giving me a reassuring smile that I try to return. By the time we make it to the dance, I’m wholeheartedly resigned to the fact that I’m going to do this … I’m going to have sex with Warren tonight—and I’m going to hate Bodhi for it the whole time.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Warren whispers in my ear as we dance to Bazzi’s “Mine.”

  “A few times, but can a girl ever hear it too much?”

  He grins, brushing his lips along my bare shoulder. It feels nice, especially when I pretend those lips belong to a messy guy who dribbles ketchup down his white T-shirt. Closing my eyes, I let my high take me back to April when the hands on me were Bodhi’s.

  Over the next two hours, Warren is crowned homecoming king and for whatever really crazy reason, I’m crowned queen. Then we chat with friends and dance more, and the more we dance, the more kisses Warren steals and the more brave his hands get, feeling intimate places of my body over my dress.

  I kiss him back because in my head he’s Bodhi.

  His touch turns me on, makes me want more because in my head, his hands are Bodhi’s hands.

  “Wanna get out of here?” Warren whispers as Ariana preaches in her most seductive voice about God being a woman.

  My head spins. “Yes.” I grab his face and kiss him, flicking my tongue against his, but he doesn’t taste like lemon. I pretend he does because all these months later I can still taste Bodhi.

  Warren groans, sliding his hand over my ass to pull me closer to him. He’s firm, but not hard like Bodhi. He’s tall, but not as tall as Bodhi. His hand grips my ass like a football that he could fumble. Bodhi grips my ass like he owns it.

  Warren pulls away, eyes heavy with lust, as he takes my hand and leads me out to his car. Our hands are clasped, but he doesn’t move to interlace our fingers. When he puts me in the car, he leans in and kisses me. It’s desperate, but sloppy. I can already feel that he’s not going to last. He’s losing control too quickly.