by Jolene Perry
“I think I can manage.” I smirk. But as soon as I do, I realize I’m falling back into our flirtation again, which I really need to quit. I just don’t know how to be around her in any other way.
“There you are.” Her finger touches my dimple. “My Antony.” Her eyes close and she drifts off as I drive.
I’m wound up tighter than I’ve ever been. What am I going to tell Amber? What will I say to Hélèna? This whole thing is a disaster. I pick up my phone and flip it in my hands, knowing I need to call Amber, knowing I need to try and explain, but I don’t know how to do that when Hélèna’s sleeping in the passenger’s seat.
I’m pretty sure I’m screwed here.
- - -
Hélèna’s still asleep or passed out when I get back. I grab her trunk first and haul it onto the boat.
“Wow.” Dad’s brows go up as I lower the trunk in.
“You’ll see why tomorrow.” Because Hélèna will look impeccable, even though we’re in small-town, Washington. She’ll stick out here as someone who definitely doesn’t belong, but she won’t care a bit. In fact, she’ll thrive on it.
I walk past Amber’s boat, and almost knock, but chicken out and continue up to the car.
I pull Hélèna out of the car and cradle her in my arms. It makes me feel strong, like a man. Good. Her head lolls against my chest.
“I sorry, Antony. Drank too much at dinner.” Her voice is soft and sloppy.
“I got ya.” I chuckle. “You weigh nothing.”
It’s tricky getting through the door and I walk very slowly down the ramp and nearly run into Amber.
My first instinct is to drop Hélèna, but she’s miraculously still in my arms. Amber and I stand, still staring, my heart banging this moment into my memory.
“I didn’t know Hélèna was coming. I found out hours ago.” I shift to make sure I don’t drop her, and she’s incredibly still asleep against me.
“Antony.” Hélèna’s hands clasp me more tightly, but her head’s still solidly resting on my, and her body’s still limp.
Bad timing.
“Long enough to drive all the way to the airport, hang out in Seattle, and carry her to your boat without calling?” Why does Amber have to be so impossible to read? Is she mad? Really mad? Hurt? Frustrated? I don’t know how to tell.
“Shit. I should have called. I didn’t know what to say.” My heart’s hammering so loud, I’m worried I won’t hear her if she says anything to me.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Amber steps around me and starts up the ramp.
I can’t very well yell with Hélèna in my arms. “Amber please. She’s just a friend.”
She spins at the halfway point, her eyes narrow. “Oh, I remember the arrangement you have with Hélèna.”
“Amber…” I start toward her. But the whole damn situation is ridiculous. I can’t very well chase one girl while carrying another. Shit.
Amber slams the metal gate door behind her, and I continue to Dad’s boat. It’s all I can think of to do.
Getting up the back of the boat is tricky. It’s a good thing Hélèna’s so small.
I kick the door a couple times before Dad opens it up.
“Some help?” I ask.
“Oh.” His brows go up. “Is she okay?”
“She can’t sleep on planes, and I know she’s been traveling forever. She also had too much to drink at dinner.”
“How did she manage that?”
“She’s older than me. Twenty-one.” I carefully step down the stairs and lay her on my bed, next to Louis. There’s nowhere else on the boat that trunk would fit.
“Antony.” She rubs her face. “Aides-moi avec mes vêtements.” Help me with my clothes.
I ignore her request, take off her ridiculously high heels, and slide the blankets over her.
“Merci.”
“Bonsoir.” I touch her hair before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind me.
“Well…” Dad breathes out.
“That’s Hélèna.” Stupid thing to say since it’s pretty obvious.
“I guessed.”
“I’ll be right back.” I take two steps to the door.
“Where you going?”
“I ran into Amber on the way here.”
“Carrying Hélèna?” His brows go up.
“Yeah.”
He nods. I run.
I knock on her boat door first. No one’s there. I scan the parking lot, but she isn’t there either. I start toward the coffee shop. I’m not sure what time it is, or if they’re still open. Amber’s walking with Kent and Brit.
“Hey!” I throw my hands up in the air as she turns around. I swear just speaking French with Hélèna for a few minutes brings it all back. The French asshole guy stuff. “So, did this happen before or after?” I gesture between her and Kent.
“Before or after what?” Amber puts her hands on her hips. “You not calling?”
Shit.
“I don’t know why you think you’re better than me in this situation!” She’s just standing there, with stupid Kent, and his stupid grin that I really want to punch off his face.
“I didn’t know she was coming!” We’re thirty feet apart on the sidewalk. Half of me wants to grab her and kiss her the way I always want to kiss her, and the rest of me wants to turn around and walk away from the work and exhaustion and the wholesomeness that’s Amber.
“Well I planned this study session, for Biology, a class you’re not in, over a week ago!” Her face is in a true scowl now.
I rub my hands roughly over my face. “Amber, I just want to talk for a minute.”
“We’re going to study, Antony.” She lets out this long, exhausted breath that makes my stomach sink. “You and I can talk tomorrow.” She turns and they continue up the street. Together.
“Tomorrow,” I say. If I live that long.
- - -
“Looks like you’re in a pickle.” Dad chuckles as I step back into the boat.
“It’s just…I don’t…” I have no idea what to say.
“Sorry.” Dad’s arm goes over my shoulders. “I didn’t mean to make light. You do realize how many guys your age would die to have two beautiful girls after them, right?”
“Only because they don’t know what it’s like.” I press my fingers into my eyes, as if the pressure will force some brilliant idea to come to mind.
“You’ll do the right thing. You’ll figure it out.”
“Well, I’m glad one of us thinks so.”
“I’m guessing you’ll take the couch tonight?”
“Definitely.” And there will probably be very little sleep involved.
“Night, Antony. Let me know if I can get you anything.”
“A drink?”
He frowns. “I don’t mind a drink once in a while, but don’t use it. Make sense?”
“Makes sense. I’m gonna try to crash.” Guess that means no drink.
I lie in bed feeling torn. I shouldn’t be torn. I know how I feel about Amber. It’s deeper. It’s more. It’s different. But Hélèna and I have this connection, too. I miss my old life, a lot. More than I realized. I like how polished she is. Maybe the difference is that Amber makes me work, and at the same time, she doesn’t make me work. I want to do it. To do what it takes to be with her.
Amber is exciting in a completely different way. I would always feel like Hélèna was only half with me. When Amber’s in the same room as me, she’s completely there, with me. Maybe that’s really all the answer I need. I pull my phone out.
MISS U
And hit send.
R U SURE U HAVE THE RGHT GIRL?
That one hits my gut. She’s mad.
ABSOLUTELY SURE
K - SEE U TOMORROW
TOMORROW. AND I DO MISS U
THX
Will that short interchange help me sleep? Probably not.
I lie back and close my eyes. Nope. Not going to help me sleep. My body refuses to let go of the tension. I stand up and go to my room to crack the door. Hélèna’s unmoved from where I left her. Why is she here? If she was going to come because of Mom, I’d have seen her in New York. I’m not sure why it suddenly feels weird that she made the trip, but it does. It’s both like and unlike her to just drop in this way. She never plans too far ahead, but it also feels like she’s looking for something. Hopefully it’s not me.
Eighteen
How Hélèna manages to crash and still look practically perfect while sleeping is beyond me. I’ve been up for a while, and she hasn’t moved. This buys me some time to find Amber and try to explain something I don’t understand.
She’s not on her boat. She’s not at the coffee place. As I wander back down to the docks I notice her truck is gone. My chest sinks. Great.
Now I guess I’ll have to face Hélèna, who I also don’t know how to talk to, or even how to be around since most of our normal activities are sort of off-limits.
I send Amber another text.
PLEASE CALL OR COME BY AS SOON AS YOU’RE BACK
I wait and wait, but get no response.
Perfect.
I sit on a bench in the parking lot, trying to pretend I just like the bench and not that I’m desperate for Amber. But I sort of am. I’m being stretched and pulled in too many directions to make a good decision about anything. I know it’s rude to leave Hélèna alone on the boat, but I still don’t know what to say to her or how to handle her, or if I can even say “handle” when I’m talking about a girl or if it’s something I should be giving myself a black eye over.
And then there’s Amber who I just want to hold and force to understand how I feel. But I can do neither because we’re not in a great place for talking, much less holding. What sucks is that I have no idea how Amber’s feeling because I’ve never felt that way, but I do know I made her uncomfortable and that me carrying Hélèna didn’t help things any.
If Mom was here, she’d know what to tell me, but I can’t think about Mom. It starts churning around all the stuff I’ve been shoving away.
At somewhere between one and two in the afternoon, I give up and go back to the boat.
Hélèna steps out of the room as I come in, stretching her lean arms over her head.
“Bonjour.” She blinks a few times in sleepiness.
“Bonjour.”
“You look confused,” she says.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I’M DONE RUNNING. IN TOWN.
“I’m sorry.” I look frantically between Hélèna and the door, feeling desperate to get back out.
“I’ll take a shower. See you in a few.” She gives me a small wave.
My mouth’s open like an idiot, but no explanation about Amber comes out. I sprint out of the boat in hopes to catch her before something else gets in our way.
- - -
“Amber! Wait up!” I finally find her on my way back down. I’m sweaty from running up the hill, and out of breath from both panic and my short sprint.
“Hey.” Her voice sounds so sad and tired, and once again I wish she’d let me hug her and push it away.
“I want to talk. Please.” I’ve said please more to this girl than probably anyone else in my whole life, aside from Mom. And really, it’s not fair since I was around Mom all the time.
“Alright.” She sighs. “Let’s talk.”
Great. She agreed. Now what? “Let me just say the worst thing first.”
“The worst?”
“She kissed me at the airport. I mean, it was her, and I didn’t have a chance to think or…”
“And you kissed her back?”
It seemed a little bad at the time, but not horrible. What am I doing? “It’s just that. I forgot. I mean.” I run a hand through my hair. “I can’t even remember the last time I picked her up or she picked me up that we didn’t kiss that way, and she just did, but I totally pulled back…”
“After kissing her.” Amber crosses her arms as we walk, and pushes her legs faster.
Shit. I’m losing this one. Another one. Why the hell do I keep trying so hard?
“Amber! Wait dammit!” I jog up behind her.
“I don’t have the energy for this right now.” She stops and lets out a breath.
“I didn’t invite her. She probably thinks I’m crazy, but I haven’t touched her. Please, please, let me just talk.”
“Aside from the kiss. You haven’t touched her aside from the kiss.” Her hands on her hips. Her jaw is tight. She swallows. She’s thinking. She’s not running away. “It comes down to meaning or not meaning to do things, Antony. Remember?”
Shit. I do remember. That was me lecturing her over Kent. “I feel pathetic. I know I’m not perfect. I know I’m like, probably a disaster for someone like you, but…” but I’m more desperate for you all the time.
“But there are a ton of girls who think you’re the sweetest, greatest thing ever. I get it, Antony.” The annoyance in her voice comes across crystal clear.
“No.” I shake my head. And yeah, I did want to say that, but I didn’t say it. “I need your help.”
“You’re chasing me down to tell me you kissed someone else and that you need my help?” Her brows rise, and I have this sinking feeling she’s about to blow me off. It’ll be a first for me, which really sucks.
“Please. Even I’m sick of hearing me say that word. Please just walk with me, okay?”
“Do you know how I feel right now? Do my feelings register here at all?” She taps the side of my head.
“No, I don’t know how you’re feeling. I guess I—”
“How would you feel if I kissed Kent?”
“I’d kick his ass.” The words come out before I can think or filter.
She shakes her head. “Well, that’s not how I feel. It hurts like I can’t breathe.”
I rest a hand on either shoulder and slowly rub her upper arms. “Shit, Amber. I swear…”
“You swear. Whatever.” She stares at the ground. It’s a whole different kind of rejection, and one I’m not sure I can take.
“Fine.” I stand taller. “Hurt me back.”
Her jaw is clenched as she steps toward me. Her breath hits my face. “I’m not strong enough to do the same kind of damage.”
And just when I didn’t think I could feel worse, I do. My head rests forward, she still hasn’t moved away and the warmth from her touches me, but I don’t get to touch her. Not right now.
“Let’s sit.” She moves away.
“Okay.” I follow her in silence, a little unsure of how to begin.
She takes a seat on a bench and I sit next to her, just not as close as I’d like to, which, again, really sucks. This distance all came from one stupid conversation about girls. Well, and Hélèna showing up. Okay, and my stupid need to kiss her back. It’s like for a moment, I felt like I was needed in a way that Amber doesn’t want me. Not yet.
“Okay,” I start.
She holds her hand up between us.
Guess this means we’re not talking yet. Her arms are crossed and she’s staring at the playground.
“So, I…”
But she silences me with her hand again. It almost looks like she’s trying not to cry? Did I do this?
I wait. My heart’s starting to panic, pounding crazily.
“What’s up?” She’s way too cool. She may have invited me to sit with her, but she’s still in the process of blowing me off.
I need to say something important, something big. “I miss you.” That’s it? Even I think that’s lame.
“What is it you need my help with?” She folds her arms more tightly.
“Fine.” I sit back and fold my arms. We can both play this stupid game. “I like Hélèna. She’s a good friend, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“You seriously called me over here to ask me about the girl you kissed? Are you mental?” Her face pulls into a scowl.
She kissed me, but something says that I should probably keep that to myself. Okay. I’m not playing anymore. Really, I can’t afford to. I unfold my arms and rest my hand on her leg. “I really, really like you. I want Hélèna to go home, but I don’t know how to tell her without hurting her feelings. Okay?”
Amber’s shoulders relax. Her arms relax. She lets her head fall down and stares at her lap.
“Be honest. Completely.”
“That doesn’t work.”
Her head snaps toward me, and as much as I wished she’d look at me a moment ago, now I wish she’d look away. Her scowl is fierce. “What do you mean that doesn’t work?”
“I mean. I tried that with you. I told you everything you asked, and you got upset. I was just trying to share, answer your questions.”
“But everything you said just confirmed all the things I was scared about with you.” The vulnerability in her scattered blue eyes makes me want to kiss her.
“But don’t you get that I’m not honest with anyone else the way I am with you?” I lean toward her and breathe in, which is a really stupid thing to do when you like a girl more than she likes you.
“That’s not it. I mean, that’s not all of it.”
“Well, what’s the rest of it? I want to fix this.” Why am I putting so much work into this girl when a sure thing is sitting on Dad’s boat? The moment the thought rolls through, I know why. I’m totally falling for this girl, and I want to. Not just to be with her, but to be around her, to know her.
“It’s everything. You asked if you could sit closer. I said yes and then your arms were around me and your legs were around me, and then you started to kiss me.”
“Right.” Because being close is nice.
“And then when we did kiss, it’s like it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. So, yeah. It’s more than you being honest and me being afraid of the things you told me about other girls. It’s me knowing you’re the kind of guy who will always want more, and when you’ve taken everything from me, you’ll…”