The car grows thick with sadness as we drive through the snow. Diving again, diving with her, and everything else i hoped for when i booked that trip to Cozumel dissolves as the snow turns to gray angry sleet.
A blast of wind rocks the car. The road is getting slick, and it’s hard to see where it goes.
“Do you want me to drive?”
i can freaking drive a car.
“Just don’t hit your brakes, or we’ll end up in the ditch.”
Brakes? Not me. That’s you, babe.
chapter 26
FRUSTRATION
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #36, YES?
His knuckles line the steering wheel,
white as the ice pellets pinging the windshield.
Wipers whisk clear a path revealing
the grim tunnel we’re crawling down,
heading off to nowhere.
Blackness edges closer and threatens
to overtake us.
am I as cruel as I feel?
Is there any sense in denying him the ocean
he craves?
If I can’t give him my body,
why can’t I sacrifice my terror—
sink under the water,
let it close over my head,
encase me,
entomb me,
tangle me in its depths?
(a faint whisper tickles my ears with yes.)
But panic seeps in through my fingertips
and up to my heart that thunders
so loud I can’t hear the whoosh of the wind.
What if I lost him to the water? What if I
lose him anyway?
Ice was so much simpler
than this premature snowmelt
that threatens to swirl me downstream
in a torrent I can’t
hold back.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Is there something of me I can offer
to the disappointment glaring
from his granite eyes?
I strain to hear as the cold car
creeps slow down the white storm’s trail.
No answer. Nothing.
What—it’s just there—
No. It’s not.
I am naked, unarmored.
Between the absolutes,
in the world of gray where I’ve strayed,
is there any yes I can give him?
an elbow? my shoulder?
an ankle? a toe?
Pathetic fare for a hungry boy.
Can I let him—no.
I know he loves—no.
What about . . .
maybe.
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
i keep up the hurt silent act until we’re close to her house. The sleet falls so thick i almost miss the turn onto her gravel road. We slide crazy around the corner. Leesie gives the wheel an expert crank that keeps us from crashing.
“You know, babe.” i look sideways at her, playing cool even though my hands are adrenaline slick. “Your road used to scare me.” The car slides again. i correct it this time. “But i’m driving it. Even in the snow.”
“Ice. That’s even harder than snow.”
When we get to the farm, Leesie tells me to park down by the sow barn where no one can see us. If she thinks more piglets or even another frustrating make-out session will solve everything, she’s wrong. “The storm is getting worse. i should get home.”
“Please, give me a chance.”
i drive to the barn, park the car. She undoes her seat belt, slides across the bench seat, and eases herself onto my lap, leaning across me so i have to hold her.
She nuzzles my neck, letting me drown in her loose hair. “I’m sorry I reacted like that to your present. The whole thing was really sweet. I know you’re trying. So should I.” She presses her lips on me, trembling.
At first i’m mechanical. Same old stuff. i’m angry and bored. Cold. i chew the corner of her lower lip like she wants. She kisses me back, mouth open, soft, trusting. i’m tired of soft, tired of holding back. i thrust my tongue deep into her mouth thinking she’ll freak again, but she likes it this time, arches into me, won’t give it back.
Why is she doing this? blinks on in my brain for an instant, and then i get too caught up to care. The only thing i can think about is where my hands will go next, where my lips will go next. i suck on her collarbone, run my tongue along it, and kiss the point of her top’s V-neckline.
The hard thump of her heart pounds into my lips.
She forces my mouth back to hers, plays her tongue over mine, then shifts and sucks on my neck. i massage her stomach, pressing harder and harder. i gotta get my mouth on that, so i shift her from one arm to the other and lay her down on the seat. i shuck out of my jacket, break out of the shirt, then bend over and press my mouth onto the silky pale skin just beneath her navel. She gasps. Her skin, saltier tonight, takes me back to the ocean.
The steering wheel jams into my hip. i ignore it. i have my mouth on her flat, sexy stomach, my arms around her, pressing her body to my face. i feel her quiver. i sip her again and again, marking my territory. She caresses my naked back, writhes, lets out a little moan.
i readjust my position, whack my hip on that damn steering wheel. “Let’s get in the back.”
“What?” She raises up on an elbow.
“There’s more room.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Same thing you want to do.”
“No, we’ve got to—”
i ignore that, stretch out on her, get into her mouth again. No recess tonight.
She spits me out. “I can’t do this.”
“That’s not what your body’s saying, babe.” i commandeer her mouth—don’t let her speak again until she’s breathing hard.
“We’ve got to stop.”
“No.” i won’t let go of her.
She pushes me off, holds me away. “Unless you’ve got a condom in your wallet”—she sounds relieved, like she found an out—“it’s kind of a moot point, right?”
i roll onto my side, balancing on the edge of the bench seat, ease my wallet out of my back pocket, slip out my condom, and press it into her hand.
She drops it into the dirty snow on the floor mats, shakes her hand like it stung. “I can’t believe you had that.” She fights her way out from under me.
i sit up. “Why wouldn’t i?”
“I didn’t think you were—”
“Responsible?”
“The type of guy that carries around a condom.” She opens the Chrysler’s door, a rush of wind and sleet invades the heated car.
“They’re your rules, babe. Not mine.” i reach for her, but she ditches, leaves me sweating in Gram’s car. i retrieve the condom and crawl out after her.
“Come back, Leese. This isn’t fair.”
“You’re going to freeze.”
“Impossible.” Ice pellets sting my bare upper body. “i’ve had enough frustration.” i reach to kiss her, to get her hot again, maneuver her into the backseat.
She dodges me. i lunge and get ahold of her, lock her in my arms. i slip on the ice underfoot, and we both hit up against the front fender. The cold metal grazes my side. “Okay. If you don’t want to tonight, that’s cool.” i bite her ear. “There’s lots of ways of doing it without really doing it.”
She’s shocked, screams at me over the wind. “I’m not doing THAT.”
“That’s not what i meant.” i let her up. “Please, babe, i need you.” i hold out my arms to her. “You’ll still be a virgin when we’re done. i promise.”
She backs away, into the driving sleet that’s destroying her jacket. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“You did it.” A flicker of anger sparks in my gut.
“You ruined the whole night.” There are tears in her eyes and ice in her hair. “It started out so perfect.” She bends against the wind, licks snow from her kissed pink lips.
“
Give me a break, Leese.” i take her arm and maneuver her into her freaking pig barn. “It was a bunch of lame kids dancing badly.”
“It was perfect.” She sniffs and shakes her head. “We should have gone back into the dance.” The barn door slams shut and it’s pitch dark.
The anger in my gut starts to smolder. “And have your parents in my face all night?”
“They like you.” She flicks on the lights. “Give them a chance.”
“You don’t get it, Leese.” i look down at the barn floor covered with soggy pine shavings. “I couldn’t stand it. Watching them. Together. It’s not fair.”
That knocks her. She doesn’t know what to say. Why would she? What has she ever given up?
A mama pig snorts. Babies squeal.
“And then you go and act like tonight’s the night. i’m thinking, whoa, she doesn’t want the Intercontinental, fine. Let’s go for the backseat.”
“Don’t be so crass.” She wraps up in her jacket like i’m going to attack her.
i grab her shoulders and shake her. “i’m a freak orphan! Creepy, just like your Troy.” My voice is hard. “i want to love you, Leesie. If that’s crass—fine.”
“You just want to sleep with me.” Even in this sweaty barn, she’s turning back to ice. “You don’t care about love.”
“It’s the same thing.” My hands sting where i touch her. “One comes from the other.”
“Not for me.” Her head drops. She whispers, “I really love you.” Her hands curl into fists on my chest.
“And my kind of love isn’t real?” i shove her off me. “It’s more real than all your religious fantasies.” The anger pulses in my veins, pounds in my fingertips, turns my brain crystal clear. “More real than a bunch of stupid lies some guy made up because you can’t face reality. Grow up and get over it.”
“That’s a lie,” she shouts smack in my face.
“No, babe, you’re a lie,” i snarl. The anger in me sizzles, leaps, mounts. “If a list of dumb rules is more important to you than us—than really loving each other—you’re a huge lie.”
“Don’t be like this, Michael, please.”
“It’s the only way i know. Truth.”
“I never lied to you. Except—” She swallows hard, won’t look me in the eye. “I’ve wanted to tell you a couple of things for a long time. First”—she comes close again, hangs on to my arms, trembling—“I told Gram about the lake and your pool dive.”
“You what!?” i shove clear of her. The fury is burning.
Leesie stumbles but doesn’t go down. i advance on her. “You put Gram up to Dr. Drab? What the hell, Leesie? What am i supposed to say to that?” The anger surges in me, molten and dangerous.
“I was scared, barely knew you.” She backs away, terrified. “She’s your guardian. She deserved to know. There’s one more thing I need to say. I’m applying—”
“You interfering little bi—”
“Don’t, Michael.”
The rage is a river now, coursing all through me. “i thought you were my ally—but come to find out you’re the puppet master. No wonder you dissed my trip.” My efficient free-dive-trained heart races out of control. i gasp, can’t get enough air. “i planned it special for you.” i’m panting, too fast. Can’t breathe in this putrid barn. Can’t see. “And you wouldn’t even stick your big toe in the water.”
i want to hurt her. i reach out, ready to—i don’t know what.
My mom’s voice rings in my head. My hand drops.
Leesie rushes me, plants a desperate kiss on my mouth. So fake.
i wipe her off. “Don’t touch me.” i stumble out of the barn into the freezing snow, sleet scalding my face. “Don’t touch me ever again.”
chapter 27
GUILT RIDE
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #37, SCUM
I tremble on my knees, praying he’ll be back.
the barn door bangs in the wind,
slamming a shot of pain to my stomach.
He’s gone.
slam.
He’s gone.
slam.
He’s gone.
my chic suede jacket
is a soaking wreck of dripping fringe.
my hair reeks like pig manure.
I wander outside, follow the dizzy icefall
into a world I don’t want to know.
It’s cold, getting colder, and the lights of the house
are so far tonight.
His tracks mar the snow black.
How many times have I walked this road
in the dark? there’s the grain elevator,
lurking silent fortress,
grandpa’s barn, broad and solid,
unchanged by storms.
my feet climb slippery cement steps.
my hands open and close the solid pine door
that blocks out the howling night.
I flee to the bathroom, afraid the empty house
will see me. I stare in the mirror
while hot water thaws
my icicle hands, draw back confused.
all I see is scum.
milk scum, pond scum, scrub bucket scum
that hides under pure white soap bubbles.
I cocoon myself and soak my pillow,
fake sleep when my family returns, kneels,
murmurs amens and good nights.
scum can’t pray.
scum can’t crack her scrips
and read at the ribbon,
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.
the taste of his tongue lingers in her mouth.
His raspberry kiss stains descend her stomach.
Her betrayal floats before her eyes—
fresh grief suffuses his face.
scum broke him in the frozen night,
and all she can think of is
what it would have felt
like, what will happen next
time, if he’s still awake, if he’d
let her in.
Please, Lord, don’t slay me.
are all her years of No
a joke? Cover for a weak sinner
who can’t stay temple chaste,
who almost breaks the big one
the first chance she gets?
scum can’t sleep, for fear of his body
haunting her dreams.
In morning’s light, scum can’t face
shiny silver sacrament trays piled with purity,
can’t drink cleansing from a miniature plastic cup
knowing Christ suffered for what she did,
what she wanted to do,
what, even now, she aches for
with every breath
she takes.
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 11/29 7:12 A.M.
chapter 28
GETTING BACK
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
School is the last place i want to be, but i won’t let Leesie think i need her to come down to Gram’s and be my nurse-maid. i storm around glum and fierce. She looks way too good. Her hair, long and full and gorgeous, tortures me with its scent when she walks by. She’s got on more makeup than usual. Bright glossy lips. Pouting. Mocking. Soft pink cheeks. Heavy eye gunk. i don’t like it—makes her look plastic. Tight jeans and a pretty face. Fake. She should be upset, destroyed, red nose, swollen eyes, dirty, stringy hair. Tomorrow’s her birthday. Guess she got what she wanted—me off her case.
That jerk Troy hangs out at her locker, biceps bulging, giving her Hot Tamales candy. Creeps me out. Guy always has a red tongue. i was just a project, right? Her soul to save for the month. Maybe Troy’s her next challenge. She’ll turn him into a monk or something. i watch him whisper something to her. She slams her locker and stalks away. All hail. The Ice Queen cometh.
Between classes, she walks toward me down the hall. Her eyes latch onto me like she wants to talk. i don’t. My head hurts from my mom screaming all night, and it’s all Leesie’s fault.
She should have let me dive. What business did she have messing with that? What does she deserve today? Dirty look? Naw. Cold’s better than nasty—give her back ice.
i stare beyond her and notice a guy creeping up behind, his hand poised to grab her butt. i give the freak a total hands-off-or-i’ll-kill-you look. He hurries by, hands to himself. i can’t help it, glance her way. Red face, eyes on the floor. She caught the look, thought it was for her. Part of me says stop and explain. The angry me knows better. i keep walking.
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
Taken by Storm Page 11