Something in the Water

by Teresa Mummert

  “Fuck,” I muttered, flicking my cigarette to the ground as I stalked toward our door. It opened before I could even insert my key, and Emery looked like she definitely didn’t use the time to calm down.

  “Where have you been?”

  I walked by her and fell backward onto the bed with a grunt. “Out.”

  “I’ve been worried sick.” Slamming the door, Emery was standing between me and the television.

  “You wanted privacy, I gave you privacy. What’s the problem?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she seemed to be struggling with a valid argument. I’d given her what she’d wanted. She didn’t have a right to be mad. If anyone did, it was me. I had spent my hard earned money on this shithole.

  My eyes scanned her jean shorts and a fitted shirt. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She asked as she looked down over herself.

  “Nothing but it looks uncomfortable to sleep in.”

  “I forgot to bring pajamas,” she confessed with a sheepish grin.

  I rolled my eyes, sitting up and tugging my t-shirt over my head. “Here.”

  “Your shirt? You’re going to run out of clothes if you keep lending them to me.”

  I nodded as I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans, kicking them off to the ground. At least one of us had prepared for the trip. Emery packed as if she was going on a weekend vacation.

  Emery disappeared into the bathroom, returning moments later with her clothing neatly folded in her hand. But all I could focus on was her thin legs that looked a mile long under my shirt that looked ten sizes too big. She tucked her hair behind her ear as her teeth dug into her bottom lip.

  I was suddenly all too aware of why Emery shouldn’t be in the same room as me. Sleeping next to her was going to be more difficult than I thought.

  “I look ridiculous,” she giggled as she walked toward the bed, lifting the covers to slide in beside me.

  “You look cute.”

  She beamed at my words, and I wondered how often Emery was told that, if ever. She had washed all of her makeup off and wearing only my shirt and her smile, she was the most beautiful I’d ever seen her.

  Pulling the covers up to her chest, she laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling that was plastered on large swirling circles.

  We both fell silent, and I struggled to think of something to say to make the situation less awkward.

  “So, you play the guitar?” She asked.

  “A little,” I confessed.

  “I’d like to hear you play something sometime.”

  “Maybe.” I’d never really played in front of anyone but Taylor.

  Rolling onto her side to face me, Emery propped her head up on her hand with a playful smile on her lips. “Maybe? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t really like to play in front of people.”

  “You’re scared. Wow. I didn’t think you were scared of anything,” she laughed softly as her long hair tickled against my arm.

  “Of course, I’m scared of things. I just don’t let that stop me from doing what I want to do.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “What scares you? ‘Cause it sure as heck isn’t half the football team, or Marcus, or even the sheriff,” she challenged, and I turned my face to look at her. She was only a few inches above me, and I felt that familiar pull that had gripped earlier on the street. But I still felt like Emery wasn’t touchable. Like she was too good for someone like me. I knew it was crazy as we laid side by side in this bed, but I couldn’t ignore my insecurities.

  “You,” I confessed quietly as her lips parted and she sucked in a ragged breath.

  “Why do I scare you?” her voice was barely a whisper, but her words weighed heavily on me. Do I tell her that I’ve been thinking about kissing her all day? Do I tell her that she would be stupid to let me?

  I pushed myself up onto my own elbow, so we were eye to eye. “You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are, and I’m kind of glad you don’t because I think if you did, you would know that you could crush me, without even trying.”

  Her eyes widened fractionally as she searched my expression for truth, but she didn’t have anything to worry about because I’d never been more honest.

  “I... I wouldn’t do that, Ford.”

  “That’s because you don’t believe it’s true.” I reached out cautiously, sliding my fingers into her hair as I slowly pulled her face closer to mine. Her eyes fluttered closed just as I pressed my lips hard against hers. I didn’t pressure her to deepen the kiss, savoring this moment because I knew I’d probably never be so lucky again. I was playing with fire, running my fingers through a wild, dancing flame, and hoping I could revel in its warmth before she burned me.

  When we finally broke apart, my forehead rested against hers, and I kept my eyes closed, steadying my breathing. I had to force myself not to kiss her again.

  We’d immediately started our friendship out with a level of trust most people never found in another. No laws, no rules bound us. We were completely free, and it was terrifyingly exhilarating.

  I didn’t want to screw that up with her, and I was still afraid that if I got too close to someone, I’d lose them like I had before. But part of me already knew that there was no way this could last. She would need to go back home, and I would probably never see her again. I tried not to think of the parallels between her leaving and losing Taylor, but it was impossible to ignore. That was what really scared me, but I wasn’t brave enough to admit that to her.

  “Can we do that again?” She asked, her voice wavering.

  “What?” I asked, my eyes scanning her face.

  “Kiss?”

  “You want me to kiss you again?”

  She nodded, her breathing grew more rapid as her gaze dipped to my lips.

  I was only human. I knew what the right thing to do would be, but I didn’t care. I pressed my mouth against hers, and a quiet moan escaped her as I swiped my tongue across her lower lip. She let her mouth fall open, and I used the opportunity to deepen our kiss. She rolled to her back, and I slid over top of her, groaning as I let the weight of my body press against hers. Her fingertips gripped my shoulder, and her legs raised around my hips. I was growing hard, and I knew if we didn’t slow down, I was going to push her too far.

  I pulled back from her, hanging my head.

  “What? Did I do something wrong?” She asked.

  “No.” I shook my head, looking her in the eye, so she knew I wasn’t lying to her. “It’s just... if we don’t stop now –”

  “You won’t be able to stop?” she asked.

  “No, Emery. God no. I just meant that we may do something that you would regret.”

  I rolled over onto my back, blowing out a loud breath as I stared up at the ceiling.

  Emery turned on her side to face me, and I could feel her eyes as she studied my expression.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I looked over at her, nodding once.

  “Have you ever –”

  “Yes,” I answered before swallowing hard.

  “With Taylor?”

  “With a lot of people,” I confessed.

  “What was it like?”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re asking me what sex feels like?”

  Her cheeks turned pink, and she buried her face in her pillow.

  I propped up on my side as well and pushed her shoulder until she lifted her head, her teeth biting down hard on her lower lip.

  “It feels good.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “What do you want me to say, Emery? It will hurt you... probably at first. But whoever you do it with will be careful not to make it worse. Eventually, it will feel good. Really good.”

  “So you hurt them, even though you loved them?”

  “No,” I laughed, shaking my head. Her eyes narrowed, and I knew she
was embarrassed. “First of all, I only loved Taylor, and second of all, it hurts most girls the first time. That’s just the way it is. But it’s worth it. Didn’t you have a sex ed class or something?”

  She shrugged. “My mom wouldn’t sign the paper to let me attend. I learned most of what I know from books.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.” I tucked her hair behind her ear as I struggled not to overthink about having a conversation about sex with Emery.

  “We should get some sleep,” I whispered. Reluctantly, I freed my fingers from her hair and waited for her to lay her head back on her pillow before I did the same. She turned, facing away from me, and I placed my arm over her waist, so I knew she wasn’t going to vanish when I closed my eyes.

  “Ford?”

  I groaned, “Yes?”

  “I think something’s wrong with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Would you... would you think differently of me if I’d have done those things... you know... with a guy?”

  “Have you?” I asked, completely blindsided. Emery didn’t seem like she’d ever left her house before she got in my car. I’d just assumed that she hadn’t gone through anything.

  Instead of speaking, she nodded her head, her hair rustling against the pillow we were now sharing. My arm flexed and tightened around her fractionally.

  “Then why –”

  She shrugged. “I just wanted to know if it hurt everyone.”

  “Yeah, at first –” My words died in my throat, and I felt my chest constrict. “Emery?”

  “Why hasn’t it stopped hurting me yet?” I could hear the tears in her voice. I tightened my grip on her, wanting to press her for answers; wanting to kill whoever had made her feel this way. But I knew it would only make things worse on Emery.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered against her hair, pressing my lips against the back of her head. “Had I known... I wouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

  “Because... I’m damaged goods now?”

  “No,” even with my voice barely above a whisper it sounded deafening in the small space now filled with unanswered questions. “You’re not damaged, Emery. You’re perfect.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. Whatever they did to you, it doesn’t take that away. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “It felt like they took everything.”

  “Only if you let them.” I pressed my lips to the back of her head again. “Don’t let them.”

  “I... I like that about you.”

  “What?”

  “The way you kiss me. You don’t touch me like I’m some little breakable thing.”

  “Who touches you like you’re a breakable thing, Emery?”

  She exhaled before shaking her head slightly. “I’m tired, Ford.”

  My mind was racing. Since Taylor had died, I’d had a one track mind. I was going to make my father pay for what he’d done. Today, that list grew.

  Emery’s body soon relaxed as her breathing evened out and I knew she’d finally fallen asleep. She must have been exhausted, staying awake only to make sure I returned to the room, and nothing had happened to me. I wasn’t used to someone caring. And now I had more questions than answers about her life.

  I had been so good at pushing everyone away, I never noticed when Emery snuck through the cracks.

  As I drifted off into another restless night, my mind was fraught with the uncertainties of my future, instead of all of the tragedies that plagued my past.

  Emery’s face was twisted in anger, and I was pleading with her to stay. My gaze was locked on her face like tunnel vision, but when the scene expanded, my father was now at her side with his arm locked around her waist.

  “Why would I want to stay here with a loser like you when I can do so much better?” Her words didn’t seem to be her own, but a direct reflection of my own insecurities.

  “Emery, I don’t want to be alone,” I begged, feeling my heart seizing in my chest. I clutched at my shirt, clawing at the fabric as I began to suffocate under the pain.

  “You’re always going to be alone. Taylor’s heart was so big to make up for you lacking your own.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe she’d be so callous, but when my eyes fell the scraps of fabric between my fingers, I could now feel the dampness of my own blood that was trickling from the cavernous hole in my chest where my heart should have been.

  I dropped to my knees, and Taylor’s father was by my side now.

  “She’s gone, Ford.”

  I looked up at his sad eyes before searching for Emery, who had vanished, leaving me to die alone.

  My eyes shot open, and my hand frantically searched the other side of the bed for Emery, coming up empty.

  “Sorry I woke you,” her voice called out from across the room, and I finally inhaled as she turned off the bathroom light and slid back into the bed.

  “It’s fine,” I whispered as I slung my arm over her, this time pulling her back against my chest as my eyes fell closed. I never thought I’d be so relieved to not be alone, no matter how selfish that was of me. Letting go of Emery was going to be harder than I thought. But as many times as I screwed up in my life, I couldn’t make her another one of my mistakes.

  My arm cinched tighter around her middle, and she sighed but didn’t pull away. I laid beside her, my eyes closed, lost in the sound of her steady breathing, using it to calm my own.

  16

  EMERY

  August 15, 2018

  It had been a week since Ford had kissed me and ever since that night; since I confessed that I wasn’t the innocent girl everyone thought I was, he’d been acting strangely. At first, I thought he’d regretted even bringing me with him, but even with this strange sadness looming in the air, he still held my hand when we ventured out and made sure I always had what I needed.

  I wasn’t sure if he was just becoming increasingly worried about what we would do when our money ran out or if it was something heavier weighing on him now that he was carrying the burden of keeping my secrets as well.

  At night, I’d wake up at odd hours to the sound of a pen scratching across the paper in his notebook furiously. I jokingly asked if he was sending my mother a ransom note, and he left saying he needed to get some air, not coming back until the sun rose again.

  After three days of him wandering the streets at night, I got up the courage to follow him, making sure to keep my distance because I’d already received my fill of lectures about how unsafe it was for me to go out alone, especially at night. He was beginning to sound more and more like my momma, and I could feel myself building up a wall between us.

  I thought for sure I’d find Ford sitting at a bar or flirting with some random tourists in the Quarter, but what I discovered hurt much worse. Ford was standing along the road, his guitar in hand as he sang the most heartbreakingly beautiful song about the pain he’d experienced.

  I was frozen in place, unable to walk away even though he’d made it clear that this was something personal to him. But as I watched the other people gather around him, dropping bills and coins into a hat, I felt betrayed.

  Why was it okay for him to share this with people he didn’t know, but he refused to open up to me?

  I watched, wide-eyed, as he thanked a beautiful young blonde for her tip and winked at her, his smile growing as she touched his arm and deepening the dimples in both his cheeks. I hadn’t even been able to make him smile that widely.

  My stomach twisted, and before I could run back to our room, his head lifted, and he noticed me, his smile fading. I didn’t know what to say or to do so I just shook my head and disappeared through the people, walking as fast as I could back to the hotel.

  I could hear him calling out my name, but his voice grew more distant until it faded altogether and I knew he wasn’t chasing after me.

  When I reached our room, I began to shove all of my belongings into my bag, hopi
ng I still had enough cash left to possibly get me a bus ticket home.

  As my eyes did one final scan of the room, the door opened, and Ford stepped inside, his guitar still in his hand.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Nope,” I seethed as I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Go talk to your new friends out there.” I walked toward him, and he grabbed my arm, my body stiffening, but I didn’t pull away.

  “Emery, come on. Don’t be like this.”

  “Like what? Do you want to tell me how to be now?”

  “I just want to keep you safe.”

  “Why do you even care? You feel obligated to babysit me now? Well, job well done. Now I’m going to go find somewhere else to go.”

  “Why are you so pissed off at me?” His voice rose in frustration, which only compounded my anger. He didn’t get to be mad. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Why did you make such a big deal about not wanting to play your songs for me but you went out and played them for everyone else?”

  “Because they’re strangers, Emery. I don’t care what they think.”

  “But you care what I think?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  I hadn’t expected that answer, and it deflated my rage, but I still wasn’t ready to forgive him. “What? You think I’d judge you for singing about losing Taylor? You believe I'm that heartless?”

  He was clenching his jaw now as if trying to bite back what was on his mind.

  “You know what? Forget about it. I don’t know why I even cared.” I yanked my arm free from his grip and grabbed the door handle, desperate to escape the claustrophobic space. As I pulled it open and a woosh of night air blew in, he finally spoke.

  “It was about you.”

  I turned around, not sure I’d heard him correctly. “What?”

  “The song wasn’t about losing Taylor. It was about losing you.”

  “Why...” I let the door fall closed behind me. “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here with you.”

  He shook his head, looking to the floor. “Not yet.”

  “Ford, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Really? Because that packed bag on your back says otherwise.”