Jolt

by Kris Bryant

  “It appears we are the only ones here.” Ali leans up close to me. She slides her hand up to my neck and gently pulls me down to her mouth. I feel the softness of her lips and melt into her. I’m desperately trying not to appear eager and pounce on her, but it’s so hard with her lips on mine. She’s a fantastic kisser. I want to push her down and slide across her body, full contact from head to toe, but I refrain. Another time, another place. It’s too early for that, and I don’t want Ali’s opinion of me to change. I break the kiss and sigh.

  “So what do we do now?” I ask her. I’m looking at her neck and I want to suck on it, taste her, smell her. My body swells. I need to slow my thoughts and wants down. I swear she can read my mind because she gives me a smile that is incredibly sexy, very different from her other smiles.

  “I suggest we spend as much time together as we can,” she says.

  “That’s going to be hard since you’re leaving this weekend.” I break eye contact.

  “I’ll have some time off here in a few weeks, and I’d love to see you then. That is, if you want to and can get away. And you’re always more than welcome to come see me on the road.”

  I know that I’m going to do everything I can to see her onstage. I don’t know her music, really, but I’m determined to be familiar with every one of her songs before I see her concert. “I’m sure we can work something out. I’d love to see you on tour.”

  Ali is very close to me. I’m so nervous my stomach is trembling. I decide we need to get moving before she can see how much she’s affecting me. I don’t know if I’m ready for this.

  “We should probably get out of this heat. Want to go back to camp?” I swear Ali sighs, but she helps me pack up and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. It’s obvious she wants to kiss and God only knows what else. I’m positive she’s used to getting her way with women, but I can barely handle kissing her. This is too fresh for me. I don’t want Ali Hart to be my rebound girl, even if it has been three long, lonely years. We head for the Jeep and see Renee waiting for us.

  “There you two are. I’ve been looking for you. Ali, we’d love to have a small dinner tonight as a way of saying thank you for everything you’ve done this week. We promise not to keep you up late,” Renee says. There goes my plan for an intimate dinner.

  “That sounds great, Renee,” Ali says. I notice hesitation on her part. Perhaps she’s hoping I’ll rescue her and tell Renee about our tentative dinner plans. She doesn’t know that I’ll roll over for Renee any day of the week. She’s one of the strong ones who helped me through my breakup. She picked me up, kissed my boo-boos, and kicked me in the ass when I needed to quit feeling sorry for myself. If Renee wants dinner with Ali, she’ll get dinner with Ali without my interference. We pick a time and Renee leaves us alone.

  I turn to Ali and she’s leaning back in the seat, her eyes closed for a moment. I take a mental picture to pull out later. She looks so young and peaceful, and my heart goes out to her because her life is going to pick up full force tomorrow as she heads out to continue her tour.

  “Do you mind if I grab a quick shower? Then if you’re up for it, I can come over for a bit until dinner,” she asks. This snaps me back to reality.

  “Sure,” I say. When I drop her off I remind myself to settle down. Ali shoots me a heart-stopping smile, and I have to grip the steering wheel to keep from following her. I drive over to my cabin and race up the stairs, anxious to clean up. My life has changed so much in just a few short hours. Something good is happening here, and I just hope that it snowballs into something bigger and better. I look around my cabin, happy that I don’t have to clean it very much. I jump in the shower and wince at the sunburn on my neck and face. I hope Ali’s in better shape. I slip into a pair of capris and a long tank top. I need to wear something light against my warm skin. Leaving my hair down to air-dry, I head out of the cabin to wait for Ali.

  “Hi. I didn’t want to scare you by busting in your cabin, so I decided to wait out here,” Ali says. She’s on the porch swing, her long legs tucked underneath her, and her right arm stretched along the back of the bench. She looks completely relaxed again. Her hair’s down and still wet. I’m surprised to see that it’s naturally wavy. She’s wearing cut-off jeans and a form-fitting red plaid shirt with sleeves to her elbows. She looks like a cowgirl. I want to walk over to her and kiss her, but instead I scold her.

  “Come inside. I think we’ve been out in the sun long enough today.” I look at her to make sure she isn’t pink like me, allowing myself to quickly imagine Ali without tan lines, then push the thought back into my mind to pull out at a later date. She follows me and I offer her something cool to drink.

  “Whatever you’re having.” She thanks me and takes a seat on the couch, more in the middle than on one side or the other. I sit next to her, but on the side that gives us more space. A part of me knows she’s testing me, but this is a big step for me and she’s just going to have to be patient.

  “Am I keeping you from writing?” she asks. I want to laugh at her. Even if I am struck with the strongest inspiration I’ve ever felt in my life, there’s no way I’m leaving this couch.

  “Not at all. I usually do that at night anyway. I don’t have the distraction of the kids or the camp. It’s very quiet around here then.”

  “What made you become a writer, Beth?” There it is again. The breathy way she says my name. I clench my glass to keep my hands from trembling. Now that I’ve touched her, I want more. I think about how soft her wet body felt against mine, and I’m anxious to touch her again. I shake the thoughts from my head and focus on Ali’s question instead.

  I’m tempted to recite Emily right now and her fascination with books and the journeys they inspire, but I don’t know if that will seem crazy to Ali. I can practically see Emily, hands clasped in front of her face, leaning toward me, beaming with delight.

  “I learned to read when I was young, and I loved the adventures I’d go on with the characters. As a kid, I wasn’t exposed to a lot, but a book could take me anywhere. I just loved that, and I decided that I wanted to write to help people escape. I didn’t do well as a children’s author, but I’m doing okay as an adult book—wait. Not ‘adult book,’ but a book geared toward adults instead of kids.”

  Ali chuckles. “I know what you mean. I’m going to have to pick up one of your books. Pretty much all I do on the road is read. Which one do you recommend first?” Ali asks. I can’t help but smile. Ali Hart wants to read my books!

  “My first book, The Nearness of You, is probably a good start. It’s a story about a woman who becomes obsessed with a man who works in her building. He ends up dead—”

  “No!” Ali clamps her hand over my mouth. “Don’t ruin it for me! I want to figure it out for myself.” She’s close to me again. I can see the caramel flecks in her eyes. Her eyes are actually a dark copper color instead of dark brown. She slowly moves her hand away and I lick my lips. I can taste the salt of her skin and smell the honey in her lotion. I have a choice. I can lean forward and kiss her, or I can say something to break the tension and lean back. For some reason, perhaps idiocy, I speak instead of sinking into her.

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I just hope you enjoy it. It’s like every other murder mystery out there. Except I wrote it.” And just like that, the mood is broken. Ali leans back, and I see something in her eyes that looks like regret. I try to convince myself that going slow is the answer, but I don’t even know if I believe that. Maybe Ali just wants to have one night together. She doesn’t strike me as a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of girl, but I really don’t know her. I fantasize that she’ll wait forever for me, if that’s how long it takes. Logically, I know she won’t, and I don’t want her to. She’s too beautiful not to touch.

  “So now that I’ve told you about why I became a writer, tell me why you became a singer.” I need Ali to talk because I can’t stop trembling.

  “I’ve always loved music. When I was three or four, we visite
d one of my mom’s friends who had a piano in her dining room. It completely fascinated me. I wanted to touch it, but my mom wouldn’t let me. I sat down and threw the biggest tantrum. Finally, my mom’s friend picked me up and played ‘Old MacDonald Had a Farm’ for me, and I reached down and played the song almost perfectly. I knew I did something right because she bought me a keyboard that day. It was only a month or two before I had my first piano.”

  “You’re a child prodigy.” I love stories like this. Everybody is good at something, and it’s always interesting to hear about.

  “Not really,” Ali says. “I still have a hard time reading music. I normally play by ear.”

  “Did you study music in college?” I ask, then regret the question. Not all successful people have degrees.

  “Yeah, at Mount Holyoke. They have a really good music program and it was pretty close to home. It’s an all-girls school so that helped me decide to attend,” she says. I laugh at her explanation.

  I’m starting to relax again around Ali. It’s still hard to maintain eye contact because sometimes she sends me a look that shakes me to the core. It’s not a suggestive look, just a fire that flares up and sends tiny jolts of what-ifs throughout my body. What if we start kissing now? What if I reach out for Ali? What if we remove the pillows that separate us on the couch? What if I tell Ali to kiss me again? I’m getting lost in her. I’m studying her mouth, not entirely paying attention to the words coming out. Her lips are full, and I imagine biting and nipping and soothing them against my tongue. They’re so naturally red. I believe that the redder the lips, the more sensitive they are. But maybe that’s just my fantasy. Either way, they completely fascinate me. The curves in the corners of Ali’s mouth make me want to lean forward and run my tongue across her lips until she moans for a hard kiss.

  “And if you keep looking at me like that…” When the words finally sink in, I look up at Ali in shock. Not only do I take my mind away from situations and talk to poets in my head, but sometimes I completely forget I’m in the middle of a conversation. If I could have any super power, it’d be the ability to stop time just so I could finish my thoughts before continuing conversations. I like being under the radar. Well, except in situations like this. I’m thankful I have a sunburn because I know that my face is bright red.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry,” I say.

  Ali squeezes my hand gently. “I’m just teasing. You just have this faraway look, and I know you disappeared there for a minute.”

  “I’m normally not this thrown off.” I focus my attention back on Ali’s face, trying hard not to notice how her eyes sparkle or how her long fingers are casually twisting her chestnut-colored hair. Ali shoots me a lazy smile but thankfully doesn’t call me out. Again.

  “I’m sorry I wasted time,” I say. Judging by the look on her face, my confession surprises her.

  “It wasn’t a waste. You were protecting yourself so I understand. I just figured you didn’t like me for some reason. Maybe you don’t like musicians or maybe I was rude around you or something. I’m not always aware of my actions, and sometimes my guard does slip,” she says.

  “Oh, no. You’ve been perfect. Really. I just was being selfish and stupid.” I’m just so glad that Ali took the time to make the first step. I’m too much of a coward.

  *

  Darren’s busy grilling veggie kabobs marinated in a garlic-and-herb seasoning that smells heavenly. Renee has whipped up potatoes and made black-skillet biscuits. A tray of fresh fruit and cheese and two bottles of wine are already on the table.

  “Oh, you did too much,” Ali says.

  Renee gives her a quick one-arm hug and reassures her that this is our way of saying thanks.

  “I’ve really enjoyed myself so much. Thanks again for having me,” Ali says.

  I stand next to Ali, close enough to reach out and touch her if I want. I can’t believe she’s leaving early in the morning. I can’t believe I wasted six precious days.

  “So what made you start this camp?” Ali asks Renee.

  “Well, one of our nieces had a hard time in school with being gay. I saw her struggles early on and decided there needed to be a place where she and her friends could go and not worry about being bullied or hated. We’ve been around for years, and I plan to keep this place until I die,” Renee says. She opens up one of the bottles of wine and fills four glasses. “We had some struggles at first with the town approving zoning and other stuff, but once they got to know us and understood our goal, they were supportive. We still get the occasional hate stares and slurs flung our way, but we do bring business to town, and most of the townies who don’t like us simply ignore us.”

  “Your family must be proud of what you’re doing here. Especially your niece. You’ve made a significant change to support your family. I think it’s great. What does she think?” Ali asks. At this point, I’m tempted to knock over my glass of wine for attention so that I can change the subject. This is not something I want to discuss or hear right now. I grit my teeth and hang on. This is about to get awkward.

  “She thinks it’s wonderful. She worked at the camp during her summers in college and a few years after that, but then she got busy with her career. She helps us by providing scholarships for some of the children who can’t afford it, so even though she isn’t here, she still is a strong supporter,” she says.

  “Where is she now?” Ali asks. I freeze, and Renee starts fidgeting with the tablecloth. Apparently, she realizes that this conversation has gone too far. There’s no way out.

  “She’s down in Memphis. She has a practice down there,” Renee says.

  Ali looks at me. “Didn’t you live in Memphis for a few years?”

  I so want to die right now.

  Before I can answer, Renee does. “I don’t know if Bethany told you, but we got to know her because she was our niece’s partner.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m sorry I didn’t mention Crystal before. I thought Renee might have said something.”

  “That is quite a surprise,” Ali says. We are slowly walking back toward the cabins. “I guess I didn’t realize your connection here. I just thought you volunteered during the summers.”

  “Crystal and I came out here every summer during the five years we were together. She’s busy with her practice now, and so I come out and help when I can,” I say. I shrug like it isn’t a big deal, but Ali picks up on my discomfort and changes the subject.

  “Well, I guess we’re here,” she says. We walk up the steps to her cabin. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

  Yes, of course! I want to yell, but instead I shake my head no.

  “I’d love to, but you need to get up early. It’s not going to be an easy drive for you tomorrow. And it’s already eleven.” I look at my watch.

  “Eleven isn’t late,” she says. She pouts her lips. I think she’s adorable.

  “I’m sure it’s not for you, but eight gets here early and you probably still need to pack and load up your car, right?” I ask. She laughs, nodding.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for spending time with me today, Bethany. It was my favorite day at Camp Jacomo.” She winks at me. My heart flutters and I reach out to hold the railing. I think if I don’t, I might float away just from the look in her eyes. I can’t help but smile.

  “It was a pretty good day, wasn’t it?” I say.

  She answers me with a warm kiss. It takes me by surprise and melts me all at once. She wraps her arms around me and gently pulls me closer. I want more. Ali breaks the kiss right then, much to my dismay, and turns to climb the stairs.

  “Thank you for escorting me, fair maiden,” she says. She swoops into a low bow, causing me to smile again. “Hopefully, I’ll see you before I leave,” she says.

  I want to stay, but I need to go. I continue with the charade and curtsey back.

  “Most definitely, kind lady.”

  “Good night! Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,”
she says. Giving me a quick wink, she disappears behind the door.

  I laugh. Ali just quoted Shakespeare. She’s turning out to be perfect. I head back to my cabin with my fingers over my lips, trying to keep the feel of Ali’s warmth against me.

  Chapter Nine

  It’s seven forty-five and I’m trying hard not to pace around Renee’s kitchen. What’s taking Ali so long? I busy myself with the dishes and turn when I hear Renee speak.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were up yet or not, but I was about ready to send Bethany down to make sure you were awake. I know you need to get on the road,” she says.

  Shit. I couldn’t come up with a single reason to go to her cabin this morning. I should have thought of that one. I smile at her and she grins. It’s a private grin, different than the one she shoots Renee and Darren.

  “How did you sleep?” Renee asks Ali.

  “I could have slept longer, but I feel fine,” she answers.

  I didn’t sleep well. I didn’t sleep at all, actually. I tossed and turned, thinking about Ali. I couldn’t sleep so I wrote. All night. The problem with not sleeping is that you start second-guessing everything and your judgment is severely impaired. Hence, the success of infomercials at three a.m.

  Renee is still talking to Ali and I take a moment to think about our relationship. What if Ali drives away and I never hear from her again? I run down my list of what-ifs again, but they aren’t as exciting as the ones from last night. I frown and notice Ali is looking at me. I shake my head to let her know it’s nothing.

  “We made pancakes and Bethany ran to the farmer’s market first thing this morning to pick up some fruit,” Renee says.

  “What time did you get up this morning?” Ali asks me.

  “Umm…I haven’t really gone to bed yet.” I quickly explain before Ali or anybody can scold me. “But I’ll sleep when you leave. I usually do on Sundays anyway.” I can feel Ali staring at me.