Whatever Life Throws at You

by Julie Cross

  Some of the fear in his expression shifts to confusion. “Don’t you?” he asks. “You’re feeling something, I can see it on your face.”

  I wiggle out of his grip and sit down on the porch swing. This seems to be the spot where important things are revealed. “How old were you?”

  He shuffles sideways and wraps a hand around the chain on the swing for balance. “Eighteen.”

  And yes, I knew this already. Math is a concept I’ve managed to grasp just fine, but I needed to hear him say it. “I’ll be eighteen in October, and if I got pregnant, if I couldn’t go to college or run track…” I shake my head. I don’t want to open the door for safe-sex lectures. “Almost everybody in your situation would at least consider other options.”

  “Then why—?”

  “Because she said it to hurt you,” I interrupt, not able to keep the waver out of my voice. “She just threw those words at me without any hesitation. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t know that her priorities don’t include me, but…” I draw in a shaky breath. “But that’s the first time I’ve been presented with such concrete evidence.”

  “Annie.” Dad falls into the spot beside me and lifts an arm around my shoulders.

  I quickly wipe away the two or three tears that fell without permission and attempt to laugh. “Guess I know who she’d offer up to the Nazis if they made her choose between me and you.”

  Dad gives me a blank stare. “Huh?”

  I laugh again. “Sophie’s Choice…” Dad’s face is still blank. “It’s on my summer reading list for senior lit.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “I haven’t seen you with a book all summer.”

  My head rests comfortably against his arm. “That’s because I watched the movie.”

  “Cheater.” Dad plants a kiss on the top of my head. “And you’re allowed to be angry with me, Ann.”

  “I’m not angry.” I look up at him and exhale before saying, “I just want you to let her go.”

  He gives my shoulders a squeeze. “I did.”

  I lift my head and turn to face him. “Wait, did you tell her—”

  “To leave,” he finishes, carefully concealing a small trace of pain on his face. “Yes, I did.”

  I’m fighting a strong urge to throw my arms around his neck and then leap up to perform a celebratory dance, but I know better than to believe it’s really over for good. “You deserve more,” I say carefully, thinking through each word.

  He gives me a sad smile. “Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot. Maybe it’s time I let it sink in, right?”

  Savannah. She told him that. If I hadn’t been eavesdropping during that conversation, I’d call her up right now and thank her.

  “So, like, you’re gonna get divorce papers and all that?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I should have held that question off for tomorrow.

  He scrubs his hands over his face and then finally says, “Yeah, I’m going to get the ball rolling this week.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. Is this the same man who yelled at me a few days ago and basically called me a selfish brat for wanting her to leave? Maybe shouting those words at me, speaking them out loud, showed him the situation from a different perspective.

  We both relax again and sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  “I thought she’d come around eventually,” Dad says. “I hoped at least that she’d appreciate having you and being part of our family despite everything that she went through with me. And Annie, I’m not going to lie, your mom held it together for a while and me…I put her through hell after my surgery.”

  The idea of Dad being selfish and wallowing in pity is pretty much unfathomable to me. I reach over and squeeze his hand. “I think you’ve made up for it by now.”

  He nods, staring straight ahead. “Maybe I have.”

  I sigh. “I can’t help thinking that this is how it is for Lenny, except it’s both of her parents. They care about her as much as Mom cares about me.”

  His silence confirms my theory. Instead of Mom’s abrupt departure being on my mind tonight, Lenny and the way she disappeared into the shadows of her life after the game today is what sits with me as I get ready for bed and crawl under the covers. Which is ironic, because the second my eyes close, she sends me a text.

  LENNY: Hanging out in pool with your bf. Want to come over?

  “I climbed out my window.”

  Brody and Lenny both laugh, taking in my pajama shorts and tank top. The lights in the London house are dimmed, but the backyard is illuminated, the pool glowing blue and yellow. They’re sitting beside each other in the full-length pool chairs, both in swimsuits dripping wet. I bite back the tiniest hint of jealousy at the idea of Brody and Lenny swimming together late at night. But if they wanted to hook up, I doubt they’d invite me to join them.

  I’m still on an emotional roller coaster myself, but I haven’t forgotten the mood shifts both of them had earlier, so I tentatively take the seat beside Brody. Lenny gives us a sly smile and then hops up from her chair, wrapping a towel around her waist. “Be right back. I’m getting drinks.”

  I watch Lenny disappear into the guesthouse, then spit out the truth. “She knows.”

  Brody’s eyes widen, water dripping from his forehead and chin. “How?”

  “I told her,” I admit, looking down at my hands. “She would have guessed anyway, and I needed her to cover for me last night.”

  Last night…boy, could I use a repeat of that right now.

  Brody exhales and then nods. “Yeah, okay, I get it. It’s just that rich kids make me nervous.”

  “You know Lenny isn’t like that.”

  After a few seconds, his face relaxes, and he slides his chair over, pressing it up against mine. I stretch out on my chair, resting my head against the back, and breathe in the chlorine and perfect Jason Brody scent wafting into my air space.

  “Thanks for posting exciting exclamation point statements for me on Facebook tonight.” He reaches for my hand, flipping it palm up and drawing circles against my skin with his thumb.

  Heat drifts from my hand up my arm. “I figured you weren’t feeling the exclamation points, but I thought your fans might be.”

  Brody keeps his eyes focused on our hands. “That’s why it has to be you.” He lifts his head, meeting my gaze again. “You know, for the Facebook page.”

  A grin slides across his face, and I feel my own smile forming. “Right. For Facebook.”

  Lenny returns, handing both of us some fancy red drinks garnished with a pineapple slice and a little umbrella. Brody lifts the drink and looks it over like he’s just been handed an infant with a dirty diaper. “Are we celebrating something?”

  “Yep.” She takes her seat again and holds up her own glass. “To me, deciding to run away to Spain in October and avoid suffering through the off-season with the birth parents being around all the time. You’d think baseball season would be worse, but if I have to see my dad, I prefer to do it with an entire stadium between us.”

  I give Brody a weary glance, but we both raise our glasses anyway. “To Spain,” I say. “An awesome excuse to run away.”

  Lenny turns to me and smiles. “I’m so glad you feel that way, Annie, ’cause I’m totally planning on convincing you to come with me.”

  I choke on the red syrupy drink I’d just gulped that went down the wrong pipe. I cough until I can speak again. “What? I can’t go to Spain. You know my Spanish is terrible.”

  “Emersion is the only way to truly grasp a foreign language,” Lenny says. “And I need a roommate, or else I’ll get stuck with some crazy girl…or worse, a baseball fan. It’s only four months.”

  My apprehension betrays me, and my eyes flit in Brody’s direction. The off-season is something I’ve secretly been looking forward to because Brody will be in Kansas City all the time, no more on the road five days a week or whatever. “I have track…and my dad a-and Grams,” I stutter.

  “We’ll leave a
fter cross country and before track starts,” Lenny argues.

  I don’t get a chance to counter that because the back door swings open. Brody’s back straightens, and he looks at Lenny, alarmed. “You said nobody was home.”

  First Base strides out onto the patio, heading straight for the steps leading into the pool. All three of us sit frozen, waiting for him to notice us or for an escape route to materialize. My heart is pounding, but for a split second it looks like he’s about to dunk his head underwater and we might have a second to hide.

  No such luck.

  He angles his body in our direction and finally lifts his gaze. His eyebrows shoot up immediately. “Well, well, can’t say I didn’t call this one months ago.”

  I hold my breath as he emerges back up the pool steps, grabs a towel, and stands in front of us. Brody’s hands clench around the towel beneath him. We’d let go of our hands the second the door opened, but now I’ve slid toward the far side of my chair. Lenny’s eyes bounce between the two of us, probably taking in the panic on both our faces. Then she launches herself into Brody’s lap.

  He’s obviously startled but doesn’t move or push her away. First Base stops, his mouth falling open, the smirk dissolving from his face. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them tight.

  “You and…” First Base points between Brody and Lenny, tangled in a tight, wet, half-naked embrace.

  Lenny rolls her eyes. “Relax, Dad. We’re just fooling around. No big deal.”

  Several different emotions cross his face until he finally says, “If this shows up in the media, I’ll kick your ass back to triple-A.”

  “Got it,” Brody says, clearly pissed off at the threat, but not enough to tell the truth.

  “And if you knock her up,” he adds, “I’ll hire someone to kill you.”

  Those are probably words my dad would use if he knew about Brody and me, but the reason behind them would have nothing to do with public image. The hurt on Lenny’s face is clear even in the dim lighting.

  First Base must have decided against the swim, because he shakes his head and goes back inside. Lenny moves back to her chair and gathers up her phone and other items. I plant my feet back on the ground, scrambling to think of something to say. “Thank you…”

  “It’s fine,” she says, bending over to grab something under her chair.

  “Len?” I ask. “You okay?”

  She swallows hard and nods, forcing a tense smile. “Yeah, just tired. I’m heading inside.”

  I stand up and reach for her arm. “Want me to stay over tonight?”

  She shakes off my grip. “I’m fine, Annie,” she snaps.

  I open my mouth to argue, but Brody shakes his head. After she’s inside, he stands up and takes my hand. “Let her go. I’ll walk you home, okay?”

  We take a minute to clean up the towels and return the drinks back to the guesthouse kitchen. When we’re two houses away, I release all the tension in one long exhale. “I can’t believe she did that.”

  Can’t believe she knew with such sureness that her dad wouldn’t give a shit who she hooked up with. My heart sinks down to my stomach.

  Brody rubs his eyes, looking even more stressed than I am. “Girl’s got some balls, that’s for sure. I feel like an ass for being relieved.”

  I reach for his hand and lace our fingers together. “I’m sure he’ll catch another tabloid photo of you with some groupie girls and forget about you and Lenny.” I try to sound casual, like I’m super cool with all this, but it’s hard to be in the background, knowing the truth but being shown something different.

  Brody stops in the middle of the sidewalk, wrapping his arms around me from behind. His lips are on my neck so fast, planting kisses against my skin. I close my eyes and pretend we’re naked in the lake again. His mouth pauses just below my ear, sending a shiver up my spine. “I’m always thinking about you. No matter what.”

  His kisses travel across my cheek until I turn my head just enough for our lips to meet. I can feel his worry about today’s game, about living up to expectations, about being with me. It’s like he’s channeling all his feelings into kissing me like he does on the pitcher’s mound. And knowing that I’m up there on his priority list with baseball makes my heart swell and scares the crap out of me at the same time.

  I spin around, and he takes my face in his hands, smiling against my lips. “I think if I could’ve taken a couple breaks to do this during the game, I might have pulled off the pitches I should’ve thrown.”

  My face heats up. “Yeah right.” I glide my fingers up under his shirt, feeling his abs flex in response.

  “After last night at the lake,” Brody says, planting more kisses on my neck, “I didn’t think I’d be able to look your dad in the eye again. Wasn’t even sure if I could look at you, either.”

  I shove him back. “What happened to never treating me like a kid?”

  He lifts his head, his expression going from amused to solemn. He nods toward his car parked across the street. “I feel too exposed right now. All the suburban families with sleeping kids. Let’s sit in the car.”

  We walk over, and I climb into the passenger side, leaving my seat belt unbuckled. Brody gets in, drives to a more secluded spot a few blocks away, and quickly returns to his earlier train of thought. “I didn’t mean that I regret watching you strip your clothes off and swimming almost naked with you,” he says, causing my heart to skip a few beats. “But it meant a lot more to me than what it would look like to anyone else. That’s the problem. I see your dad or Savannah or even Frank, and suddenly I picture being with you from their eyes and yeah…”

  I’d had the same problem earlier today. The longer I’m away from him, the more complicated everything seems. But right now, my objectives are very simple and clear.

  Brody reaches for me, pulling me across the center console, onto his lap. His mouth is hungry against mine, hands drifting under my shirt, lifting it over my head, tossing it aside. The swim trunks he’s wearing do little to hide anything, and I’m already debating touching him for real this time. He leans forward, helping me to remove his T-shirt. The sweet, gentle expression he often wears around me is gone and there’s this intensity in his eyes.

  He reaches under my arms, lifting me a few inches, kissing me everywhere. Just the warmth of his mouth against my sensitive skin almost makes me lose myself, but I force it away, afraid he’ll be able to tell how much he affects me. I don’t know why it matters, but something about losing control is embarrassing, like admitting to touching myself or something.

  His lips slide over, landing between my boobs, and he holds them there, resting his forehead against my chest and hugging me tight. His back rises and falls rapidly, keeping up with his speeding heart. “Tell me something.”

  I tangle my fingers in his hair, and rest my mouth on the top of his head. “Tell you what?”

  He kisses all the way up to my collarbone, pulling me lower until our foreheads meet. “Something you’ve never told anyone.”

  “Why?” I kiss his lips, lingering there and forgetting every bit of drama my day held.

  “It makes me sure that you and I are real.” There’s a trace of doubt in his voice, vulnerability that I’ve never heard before. And I remind myself that he doesn’t have anyone. Just an empty apartment and the memory of his mom kicking him out years ago. “I like keeping your secrets.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. “You know what happened at the lake yesterday? I’m kind of easy that way.” Brody’s body tightens in alarm, and I quickly realize my mistake. “Not that kind of easy! Jesus Christ.”

  He laughs, relieved. “What kind of easy, then, Annie?”

  I love the way he says my name, like the word is part of his breath, his lips, his tongue. There are undertones to it that I don’t hear when he says Lenny’s or Savannah’s or anyone else’s names. I’m being hypnotized into spilling my guts. Maybe I should open a window? “I don’t have any trouble…you know…enjoying mys
elf.” I close my eyes again, my cheeks flaming hot. “I’ve heard enough girl gossip to know that often it just…it just doesn’t happen.”

  “Orgasm is a difficult word for you to say, huh?” he teases. “And you’re right, it was very easy to get you there last night. I didn’t even touch you.”

  I open my eyes, my eyebrows lifting up. “You did too touch me. And I was totally faking it. Besides, you were just as easy.”

  The famous Jason-Brody-raised-eyebrow is back. “You weren’t faking. And you’re right, I was easy, too. But I’ve had months of day dreaming about you and it all built up.” He leans in, nibbling my ear lobe, then stops suddenly and starts laughing, like really hard, his face pressed into my shoulder.

  Self-conscious isn’t a strong enough word to describe my current feelings. “What’s so funny?”

  He shakes his head back and forth, practically doubled over while I’m straddling his lap. “It makes sense…holy shit.”

  Annoyed, I lift my leg to climb off of him and retrieve my shirt, but he holds me firmly in place. “It’s always about that finish line with you, isn’t it? You gotta get there and get there first.”

  I smack his shoulder, but I’m laughing now, too. Who knows? He could be right. “That’s the last secret I’ll ever tell you.”

  His smile fades, and that hot intensity returns, giving me instant goose bumps. “Can I try again?”

  I reach down, feeling for the waistband of his shorts, but he catches my wrist and pulls it to his mouth. “I didn’t mean me, just you.”

  My heart is flying. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? No, don’t give me an orgasm because it’s embarrassing if you don’t have one, too.

  His fingers glide down my stomach, my hips, pausing on my inner thighs. I bite back a gasp and force myself to shake my head. “Not now…I mean, not here.”

  Eventually, he kisses my bare shoulder lightly, and then removes his hands from my thighs, brings his hands to my face, pulling us into a deep kiss that lasts for minutes or hours. I’m not sure. Eventually, Brody returns me to my seat. I grab the discarded shirt and pull it over my head inside out. We’re both breathing hard and getting sweaty, so he starts the car and gets the AC blasting before we head home.