Coop snickers. “Not for long. Now that Bodhi’s having nightly rendezvous with her.”
“Sometimes you’re an ass, Coop,” I respond. “They’re together for now. Which is why nothing happened between Eva and I tonight.”
“But?” Beck questions. “There’s gotta be a but …”
“But,” I say. “Porter is a dick, and from what she said tonight, I don’t think she’s dating him by choice.”
“Dude,” Beck whistles. “Who would force a beauty like Eva Calloway to date a dick like Porter Channing?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Her parents?”
“Twisted,” Coop nods. “But totally something I could see happen.”
“What are you going to do?” Beck asks me. “You gonna see her again?”
I smile at the thought of seeing her again. The guys pick up on it right away.
“Knew it!” Coop jumps up. “You owe me a twenty,” he says to Beck. “Shit, Bodhi. Is this finally fucking happening? Are you and Eva going to declare your love for each other and live happily ever after and have insane hot sex like every day for the rest of your goddamn life?”
“Dude,” I roll my eyes at him. “You need help.”
“And you …” he points to me, “are going to get your ass kicked when Porter Channing finds out you’re meeting up with his girl.”
“She’s not his girl,” I make clear. “And I can handle Porter.”
Beck shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’m siding with Coop again, but listen to him. You don’t want to be messing with Porter Channing.”
They’re right, but I’ll be damned if I admit it to them. They’re both waiting for me to respond, but I just sit here silently trying to wrap my brain around everything.
Coop walks up and puts his hand on my shoulder. “You love this girl, bro?”
“You know I do. Since I was twelve.”
Coop turns to Beck, “You owe me another twenty.” Then he turns back to me. “If she’s your girl, we’ll figure this shit out. We always do, but come on guys, I’m beat. Someone piss on that fire and let’s call it a damn night.”
THE NEXT AFTERNOON I head back to Calvin’s house. I had spent the entire morning with Coop, giving surf lessons to a bunch of little kids, and I’m exhausted. My muscles hurt, my head hurts, my patience is gone. Kids suck all the energy out of me, but man are they fun. It’s a dangerous combo.
I’m pretty sure I still have sand in my hair and dried blood on my eyebrow from where a rogue surfboard nailed me in my face. But I’m determined to hear more about my dad and determined to see Eva tonight. Something about leaving her last night has me so anxious. Like I can’t breathe the right way until I see her again. I’m not used to feeling like this.
Pulling down her street, I see a familiar Land Rover parked at the entrance of her driveway. Porter. I’m well aware of the fact they’re dating. I know they haven’t broken up just because Eva and I have seen each other twice over the last week. I also know there’s something she’s not telling me. More about these last three years, something she doesn’t want me to hear. I know she’s been with Porter for a while and I shouldn’t feel like I’m going to vomit at the thought of the two of them together, but I do. And my heart is pounding and I have this uncomfortable yet amazing feeling in the pit of my stomach at the very possibility of seeing her later. That’s gotta mean something, right?
I pull the jeep through Calvin’s gates and down his driveway, slamming the door closed when I get out. I walk up to his house and see that he’s sitting on the front porch in nothing but jean overalls and a straw hat, sipping what looks like sweet tea from a glass cup with pink flamingos all over it. He’s an odd man, Calvin, and it’s as if he’s sitting there waiting for me to arrive. I never told him I was coming over today.
“Man, you look rough,” he greets me.
I stand there with my hands in my pockets, not up for small talk yet.
“Well, have a seat,” he points to the chair next to him. “You want one?” he lifts his glass.
I watch as the liquid swirls around. “Sweet tea?”
“Long island,” he replies.
“I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself. You get in a fight or something?” he points to my eyebrow.
“With a surfboard.”
A car door slams in the distance and I glance over towards Eva’s house, hoping it was Porter and I can finally relax, knowing he isn’t with her anymore.
“Ah,” Calvin nods as he smirks. “I see now. Son, I take deep pride in informing you that Porter Channing is the whiniest shit turd of a human I’ve ever met, and his face looks like his underwear is too tight.”
I bust out laughing. It’s nice to know my grandpa and I are on the same page with Porter. I might have to end my relationship with my grandpa Calvin if he ever confesses to me he’s friends with the Channings.
“Eva, she’s way too good for that little bastard,” he continues. “His day will come.”
We sit there for a few minutes as he sips his long island and I rock away on his wicker rocking chair. It’s nice. It’s soothing and comforting, another feeling I’m not used to.
“Hey,” I turn to him. “Last night, how did you know Eva would be out on her dock?”
“She was? Lucky guess.”
“Come on,” I say. “You stalk her or something?”
He chuckles. “I’m too old for that shit, Bodhi. Let’s just say I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure she’s safe from whiny shit turd bastards, young and old.” He stands and stretches. I can hear his bones crack. “Well, let’s go. I’m putting you to work.”
Work meant trimming every single hedge and overgrown bush that’s on Calvin’s property, while he pruned his flowering trees from a ladder and reminded me of every spot I was missing. Is this what having a dad would be like? Because I can’t say I enjoyed it very much. I collapse under one of his shaded trees in his backyard after a couple hours in. I cannot physically move another inch.
“That will do for today,” he declares, folding up his ladder. “You take a seat and I’ll whip us up some burgers and corn.”
I barely make it over to the patio chairs. My skin is on fire from being in the sun all day. I have to remember to reapply the sunscreen. I wince as I put my t-shirt back on and fall onto a lounge chair under an umbrella. I immediately doze off. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I’m suddenly jolted awake by the loud rumble of a boat engine. I can tell it’s coming from Eva’s dock.
Calvin wanders out of his house with a platter of burgers, and corn that’s wrapped in foil, going right over to the grill. I walk over and he hands me a glass of what looks like lemonade. My eyebrow raises again.
“Not spiked,” he smirks.
I drain it in one gulp. “What do you know about the Channings?”
It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “They’re a waste of space. They both walk around like they have a stick up their ass.”
“Seriously,” I say, rolling my eyes. I love the way he despises them, but I would also love an honest answer from him in between the insults.
He sighs. “Henry Channing is the wealthiest person in Flagler. He was already the president of his company before the inheritance—”
“Who died?”
He throws the burgers on the grill. “Why do you want to know?”
“Just curious.”
“Henry’s second cousin, or third cousin, distant cousin, something like that,” he answers me. “Paul Channing. Young guy. Sick, but young. Henry was the only living family member left, so he got everything, and it was a lot.”
I glance towards the Halifax in the direction of the Channing estate. “Hey, Calvin?”
“Yes, son?”
“If you moved here a few years ago, how do you know so much about the Channings and something that happened over a decade ago?” I already know from Eva that he lived here before, but I want to hear it from him.
He closes the lid to the grill. “I
moved back a few years ago, son. Back. Now go sit down and let’s get ready to eat.”
Dinner starts off a bit more silent than the night before. Every once in a while, I catch Calvin glancing across the Halifax. I need to know more but I’m afraid to overstep. I take a bite of my burger. Damn, it’s good. I might show up here every evening just to eat what he cooks me.
“If you came back, why’d you leave Flagler?” I ask him. That’s a safe question, right?
Calvin puts down his corn. “Rose. She wanted a new start.”
A new start? A new start from what?
“Were you here the same time my dad was?” I pick at the end of my burger, afraid to look up at him. “When I was born?”
“No,” he says rather quickly. “Actually, I don’t know. Maybe? Rose and I, we didn’t keep in touch with Luke after he turned eighteen, but the two of us, we both grew up here in Flagler. This house is my family’s house. Our travels took us away for a bit when we were old enough to leave. Your dad wasn’t born here.”
“You didn’t have a very good relationship with him, did you?”
Calvin puts his corn down again. “We disagreed on quite a few things. By the time he graduated high school, it was very apparent that he needed to venture out on his own. To figure things out. We needed to step away.”
“You haven’t talked to him since he graduated from high school?” I ask in disbelief.
He shakes his head. “I realize you want answers about your dad, Bodhi, but I’m not the one who can give them to you.”
Well, this fucking sucks. “Who can?” I ask him. “Who can give me the answers?”
Calvin sighs. “Luke can. And your mom could.”
I can’t help but laugh under my breath. “Of course,” I say. “You’re telling me I might never find out anything about the time my dad was with me? About he and my mom? How they met? Why he left?”
“I’m in the dark about all of that, just like you,” Calvin confesses to me. “I’m sorry, son.”
I’ve waited my entire life to find out anything about the man who is my dad, and here I am, sitting in front of his father, and even he can’t help me. “I guess I expected that,” I say to Calvin. “Maybe it’s better this way? Neither one of us knowing about his last seventeen years? He’s a myth. Luke Sullivan, the man who existed but never really existed,” I joke. The hell with all of this. I’m going to find out whatever I can. “So, when did you leave Flagler? The second time. When Eva was little.”
He almost looks relieved that I’m still asking him questions. Like he assumed I was just going to leave because he can’t tell me anything about my dad. He glances back across the Halifax and points to the Channings. “As soon as that eyesore broke ground.”
“The Channings? You left because of them?”
Calvin gives me a half smile and says, “I think it’s time you eat your burger before it gets cold.”
I lean back in my seat. That was enough for tonight. My mind is spinning. When you’ve spent your whole life looking for any minor detail that you can find about your dad or family, and in one night you’re given numerous bits of information that leaves you convinced you’ve been lied to for seventeen years, it makes you feel overwhelmed. I’ve been lied to, but what about, I’m still not sure yet.
I wonder what kind of relationship my grandpa must have had with my dad, if he didn’t even know when my dad was in Flagler, or that they were probably both here at the same time. I wonder why my dad never told him about me. I wonder why they didn’t keep in touch. I wonder why there was this need to keep all these secrets, and as much as I don’t want to question it, I wonder if my mom knew a lot more than she ever shared with me.
chapter eight
Eva
M y room, it might be my most favorite place in my entire house. When my life is out of control and I’m not sure how to function, I can hunker down in here and wait for the chaos to pass. I can hide from my family, I can hide from Porter, I can hide from life. It’s happened more often than I’d like to admit.
Today, I’m lying on my bed and going through pictures on my camera that I took walking around downtown Flagler early this afternoon. You can see all walks of life in downtown Flagler. Surfers, skateboarders, moms and dads chasing little kids, local elderly folks with wrinkly leather skin from being in the sun for eighty years. And of course, the random tourist who’s trying so desperately to blend in, but sticking out like a sore thumb with their sunburned shoulders and matching family outfits. Sometimes, I find a bench to sit on in the shade with a cup of coffee and my camera, and people watch for hours. Later, when I look back at the pictures I’ve taken, I like to think I was able to be a small part of their story for that brief moment they passed by me.
There’s a soft knock on my door and I look up to see Porter walk in. I knew he was coming over later this evening because my dad invited him and Mr. Channing over for dinner. Yet another thing I was told to attend and never given the opportunity to decline. I’ve been preparing for this dinner ever since I was informed about it this morning. I left my house as soon as I could, spent the entire day taking pictures, and didn’t come home until about an hour ago. The only thing that will get me through this dinner is knowing I’ll see Bodhi on my dock later tonight. I’m counting down the minutes.
I wasn’t expecting for Porter to walk into my room alone and unannounced though. I would have stayed downstairs or outside. My room is one place I avoid being alone in with Porter. I can’t remember the last time he was even in here. I prefer it that way.
“Hey, babe,” he greets me, closing the door behind him.
When he calls me babe, it’s like nails on a chalkboard. When he closes himself in my room, it’s like I’m suffocating.
“Where were you today?” he asks. “I came by earlier.”
I sense I’m being ambushed. “Hi,” is all I say at first, placing my camera on the nightstand next to my bed before turning around to face him. “I was out, taking pictures.”
He lies down next to me, moving my entire body in the process so that he can put his arms around my waist. His hands on my body feel foreign, even though they’ve definitely been there before. It’s like my brain doesn’t understand why they’re there now, and I want them off of me as quickly as possible.
“I figure I’d come over a little early, before dinner … so we can have some alone time,” he says, moving his hand up my shirt.
I’m crawling out of my skin now. Every ounce of my body is cringing with his touches. I’m sure you’re wondering, so I’ll save you the curiosity. Yes, I’ve had sex with Porter Channing. The first time was the only time that ever counted in my eyes, when I felt something other than disgust towards him. The others, way too many others that I like to block from my memory, were because of moments of weakness and too much beer at parties. It’s been a month or two now since the last time I let it happen, and I know our lack of sexual encounters has started to piss Porter off royally.
So here we are, Porter trying to initiate some action while my family is somewhere in the house, and me getting ready to turn him down yet again. I’m not sure how much longer this can go on. It can’t go on any longer. Tonight … tonight is the night I need to break up with Porter.
I move his hand out from under my shirt. “Porter, my mom and brothers are downstairs,” I remind him.
“They won’t care,” he mumbles, his lips go to my collarbone and I about jump out of my skin. “That hasn’t bothered you before.”
My stomach churns at the memories of him in my bed. “Come on, Porter. No. I’m not doing this right now.”
He stops. His face hovering over my own. “Why not?” he questions. “We just don’t have sex anymore? We do it every week for months and you’re suddenly done? I’m sick of this, Eva.”
I can’t help but let out a little laugh which only infuriates him. “You’re sick of it? Why don’t you take a hint then, Porter?”
“A hint, Eva? What are you trying to say?”
/>
“You know what I’m trying to say.”
His eyes are furious now. He quickly grabs both my wrists and raises them so they’re above my head. I try to wiggle my way out of his grasp, but it’s pointless. Porter’s a big guy. Your typical jock in high school, the captain of the football team, and he’s strong, way too strong.
“Let go, Porter!” I demand, pushing against his strength. “What the hell are you doing?”
He doesn’t let go. His grip only increases to the point my wrists are aching in pain. He might be an ass, a horrible boyfriend, but he’s never done anything like this before. I’m actually shocked at how he’s behaving.
“Let me fucking go,” I say under my breath. I kick my legs out, making contact with his stomach, but he’s too quick. He pins his body against mine and squeezes his hands tighter around my wrists. I feel like my skin is tearing off as his fingers press harder. He looks down at me, staring at me like I’m his pet. Something he can control. This look, it’s not love that’s for sure.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Eva, and I’m fucking over your constant mood swings,” he mutters. “We’ve had sex plenty of times, what makes this time any different from the others?”
My heart is racing, the vomit is rising up my throat. I can no longer feel my wrists under his grasp. I’m pretty sure the blood flow has stopped completely to them. They are dead under his hands. My body is going numb as well, I guess that wouldn’t be a bad thing right now. The way I see it, I only have one option here, and that option is to let him have what he wants like I’ve always done.
As I lie here though, my mind is screaming no. I’ve said no. He’s heard me loud and clear, but I don’t usually listen to my conscience when it tells me to fight for myself. I surrender to whatever the situation is because I don’t have the energy to deal with it all. I give in to Porter because I would much rather he think he’s in this loving, healthy relationship, instead of having him uncover the truth, which is that I despise everything about him. But now, now that I’ve felt what it’s like to be in the arms of someone who actually loves me, I can’t do this anymore.
Confession Page 9