Something in the Water

by Teresa Mummert

  I let the bag fall to my feet, hating that he was right. Things got bad, and I was ready to run back home. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don't apologize. You shouldn’t be here. I should have sent you home a long time ago.”

  “Then, why didn’t you?” My eyes narrowed as my anger began to resurface.

  “I’m selfish. I don’t want you to leave.”

  I swallowed hard, not wanting to read too much into his words, but it felt good to hear that he wanted me with him.

  “You deserve better than this... than me.” He sank down on the edge of the bed, pulling the guitar strap over his head and propping it on the floor against the bed.

  “Play me the song.”

  “Emery,” he protested, but I shook my head.

  “It’s about me. It’s my song. Play it for me.”

  He inhaled deeply before he picked up his guitar, clearing his throat as he placed it on his lap.

  I could tell he was debating internally about showing this part of himself, but I wanted to hear what he was willing to say to the rest of the world.

  His eyes fell closed, and his fingers strummed the strings. I watched him, mesmerized as his face contorted into a look of regret as the words began to leave his lips.

  “She doesn’t think I see her, but I’m the one who needs her... to make me a better man. Dressed up in strings of pearls, she’ll never be my girl. One day I hope she sees,” his eyes opened, finding mine as he continued. “That she’s too good for me.”

  That last line sent a chill snaking down my spine, and I wanted to run to him and wrap my arms around his neck and tell him he was wrong. But I stood frozen, lost in the deep, gravelly sound of his voice.

  “I’m too weak to say goodbye, as she spreads her wings and learns to fly. I’ll smile through the pain... my sweet Emery Layne.”

  “Kiss me again.” Stepping in front of him, I placed my finger on his lips to stop him from singing. He sat the guitar on the bed beside him and slowly stood, his body so close I could feel the heat radiating off him, and I wondered if he could hear my heart hammering in my chest. Looping his arms around my waist, he pulled me tight against him before his mouth was on mine. I let my hands fall to his chest, melting in his arms as his lips parted.

  My knees felt like they might give out from under me, but his strong arms held me firmly in place, his tongue coaxing my own lips to open. I followed his lead, for once, not worried that I might be doing something wrong because it all felt so natural, so right.

  I slid my hands up his chest and along the sides of his neck where I could feel his pulse steadily thumping under my fingertips.

  I felt alive. I had felt like nothing else before this moment mattered and I wanted more. I wanted to replace every nightmare I’d had with a new memory of Ford. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins, emboldening me as my hands continued upward into his hair, pulling his face closer to mine.

  He let out a tiny groan as he pulled back from me, leaving me breathless and confused.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he whispered and just like that, my mood deflated. I wanted to scream.

  “You have a habit of doing things you regret.” I let my hands fall to my sides, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

  “I didn’t say I regretted it, I just shouldn’t have done it.”

  “Why?” The word came out as a whine.

  “After what you’d told me.”

  “What?” His words had me so confused I thought maybe I’d misheard him.

  “Someone hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you too, Emery.”

  I cringed. “Then why are you?”

  “I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I can do? Tell me who hurt you.” His voice rose with each word.

  “Why are we even talking about him right now?”

  “Because I want to make it better.”

  “You can’t!” I was screaming, my body feeling like it was ready to explode like a bomb as someone in the next room banged against the wall and yelled for us to keep it down.

  My chest was heaving, and we both stood silent, glaring at each other.

  “I’m not some problem for you to fix, Ford. What’s done is done. It can’t be taken back.” Tears clouded my vision, and I felt defeated. Even hours from home, locked away with Ford, what had happened to me was still consuming my every thought and ruining every moment of happiness.

  “We could tell your parents or the cops.”

  “No,” I screamed before closing my eyes and struggling to slow my breathing. “It’s not your secret to tell.”

  “It’s not something you should keep all by yourself.”

  I laughed, tears finally spilling over my lashes and rolling down the apples of my cheeks. “I didn’t. I shared it with you, and now it is poisoning this,” I motioned between us.

  “You can’t let him get away with this. I won’t let him get away with it,” he threatened, shaking his head. I could tell he was serious. “What if he does it to someone else?”

  I didn’t even think about it. My hand acted on its own accord as it connected with his cheek. I regretted it the second my palm stung from connecting with his flesh. His hand went to his cheek, and he smirked before nodding as if I’d just proved him right about not caring about him.

  “How dare you put that on me, Ford. How dare you put the guilt of what he did... what he does.” Sobs racked my chest, and my voice shook. “You have no idea... it’s a small town. I can’t just –”

  “Emery, I didn’t mean,” he swallowed hard. “I wasn’t blaming you.” He reached for me, and I took a step back, flinching.

  “Please, just leave me alone,” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “Just leave,” I yelled before my cries intensified from the look of pain in his eyes.

  If he hadn’t stormed out of the door, I would have slapped him again.

  It felt like my skin was crawling, and I was desperate for something to calm me down. Grabbing an old half-drunken bottle of liquor, I tipped it to my mouth and swallowed back the liquid fire.

  I gagged and sputtered, nearly dry heaving as I tried to keep the alcohol down. It wasn’t like the sugary sweet drinks I’d grown fond of. I wondered how Ford drank it like it was water, not even grimacing from the harsh taste.

  I soon learned that after you have enough swigs, it begins to go down much easier, and I no longer cared where Ford had gone.

  In fact, going out and kissing a few strangers sounded like fun. If making out with Ford had helped heal a tiny piece of me, replacing that ugly memory with something positive, then surely others could do the same.

  Sliding my feet into my sandals and nearly falling over as my toe got caught on the strap, I cursed out loud before pulling open the door to our room and stumbling outside.

  My body felt like it was weightless, but my legs didn’t seem to want to listen to my brain, and I groaned as my body bounced against a pole that held up the overhang above.

  “Shoot,” I groaned at the pole as I made my way toward the French Quarter. “Laissez les bons temps rouler!”

  17

  FORD

  August 16, 2018

  I didn’t want to go back to the room. Not tonight. Not ever. I was beyond pissed about everything that had happened, but mostly at myself. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save anyone.

  It was already after midnight but the promise of a new day didn’t diminish the dread I’d been feeling. Or maybe it wasn’t dread at all. Perhaps it was something more.

  There was no way out of this that I wouldn’t be the bad guy. If I sent her home, it would crush her, and if I kept her here, I would ruin any chance she had for a happy future.

  Busking only got us by day by day, and no one was going to hire Emery at her age, not to mention the fact that people were probably looking for her. I would never be able to get us out of the hole I’d dug. But I couldn’t go back. Daven, even if he would accept me, didn’t need someone like me around. He h
ad enough shit dumped on his plate.

  I had to figure out what I was going to do. Thinking about my future was something new to me. I’d never had a plan, and now I was running out of options.

  I slapped cash on the bar to pay my tab and leave a tip before stumbling out into the street.

  Pulling out a cigarette, I lit it and blew out a cloud of smoke as I wandered down the street, nodding hello to the people I passed by, occasionally pausing to watch a street performer or listen to a good song that played in one of the bars.

  But nothing could keep my mind from Emery, and as I started back at the hotel, I even thought I heard her voice.

  My eyes searched the street, and I noticed an older guy talking to a girl. I knew it couldn’t be her, but it didn’t look like she was responding to his advances and he wasn’t letting up.

  Taking a final drag of my cigarette, I flicked the butt to the ground and walked toward the commotion.

  “I’m not drunk,” I heard Emery slur, and she was most definitely drunk.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as she rolled her eyes, and the guy spun around to face me.

  “None of your fucking business,” he snapped, and I shook my head. Great.

  “It is my business, actually.” I nodded toward Emery. “She’s my business.”

  “I’m not your... your... anything!”

  I rolled my eyes and focused my attention back on the guy who was clearly too old for Emery.

  “She disagrees, asshole.” He turned around to continue to harass Emery, ignoring me.

  “Listen. It’s been a really long night, and I just want to go back to my room and go to bed. I can’t do that without her.”

  “What a coincidence,” he chuckled. “I’d like to take her to bed with me too.”

  Clenching my jaw, I twisted my neck from side to side, cracking it, struggling to not lose my temper. When was the last time I actually tried not to get into a fight? What the hell was this girl doing to me?

  “That’s funny.” I laughed, but there was no humor in my voice. “Emery, let’s go.” I stepped around him and grabbed her arm, but she yanked it free from my grip, stumbling over her own feet.

  “She doesn’t want to go with you,” the asshole, whose life expectancy that was dwindling faster than Emery’s coherence, snapped, shoving hard against my chest.

  “She doesn’t have a choice, and if you touch me again, you’re going to regret it,” I warned, holding out my hand for Emery. She looked down at my palm, uncertain if she wanted to finally just give in. “Emery, I’m sorry, alright? Let me take you back to the room.”

  Her teeth had raked over her bottom lip before she slid her fingers over mine. I smiled with relief, but as we began to walk away, the stranger just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  “Whatever. I didn’t want that bitch anyway.”

  I turned around, feeling every nerve ending in my body come alive as adrenaline pumped through me like nitrous oxide through a racecar.

  I released Emery’s hand as I swung, hitting the jerk on the left side of his nose. I could feel it give way under my knuckles as blood sprayed from his nostrils. His body collided with the pavement, and he yelled out a few more curse words, but none of them were insults to Emery. Problem solved. But I couldn’t help myself, all of the aggression that I’d been drowning in liquor floated to the surface. I hit him again, and he grunted, blood pooling from the back of his head hitting the concrete.

  “You think it’s okay to hurt her?” I asked, taunting him before my foot connected with his ribs. He rolled to his side, gripping his waist, bile oozing from his mouth. “You fuckin’ disgust me,” I yelled before swinging my leg again, this time connecting with his temple. Emery winced at the thudding sound, grabbing me by the arm and trying to drag me from the man’s now limp body.

  “Hey,” A deep voice called from the parking lot across the road.

  “Shit!” I grabbed Emery’s hand and pulled her along as I ran between the old buildings.

  She whined, but I didn’t let her slow down.

  “If we get arrested, we’re screwed.” I dug the room key from my pocket and hurried to twist it in the lock. We fell inside, barely able to contain our breathing as I closed the door behind us.

  “Fuck. That was close,” I panted, as I moved the curtain to the side to see if anyone was following us, but the parking lot looked empty.

  “Oh, God,” Emery groaned.

  “What?” I hurried to her side just as the color drained from her face. “The running.” Her hand went to her stomach, and she doubled over.

  Guiding her into the bathroom, she bent over the toilet just as the contents of her stomach resurfaced.

  I held her hair and rubbed my hand over her back until she finally calmed down, before helping her brush her teeth and carrying her to bed.

  “I feel like I’m dying,” she groaned as I slid into the bed beside her. But our little game about living life to its fullest was over. I was fucking up, and I was going to drag her down with me.

  “I won’t let that happen,” I reassured her as she sat back up, ripping her shirt over her head. I turned away from her as she stood, wobbling and shoving her shorts over her hips. A few seconds later, the bed dipped again, and she was wearing one of my shirts.

  18

  EMERY

  I woke up covered in a film of sweat, my heart racing inside my chest.

  “What's wrong?” Ford sat up, the blanket falling down and exposing his bare chest. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his eye as he struggled to stifle a yawn.

  “Panic attack,” I panted as I pushed my hair from my face.

  “What? What can I do?” He asked as he threw off the cover.

  “I need my pills.” It felt like my skin was crawling.

  “Shit,” Ford pushed off the bed and grabbed my bookbag, digging through it as the contents fell to the floor around him. “I can’t find them.”

  “That’s because I left them at home. I’m so stupid.”

  “You left your medicine at home? Why would you do that?” The anger in his voice only made me feel worse. He swiped something from the ground and turned it over in his hand. “You brought Romeo and Juliet, but you didn’t bring your medicine?”

  “It’s a required read this year,” I yelled, dragging my fingers through my tangled hair.

  “Emery, are you planning on commuting back to school every day?”

  “Stop yelling at me!” I grabbed my head in hopes of being able to stop it from thumping. I’m never going to drink again.

  “I’m sorry,” he groaned as he circled the bed and knelt down next to me. Sinking to his knees, he stroked my hair as he looked me in the eyes. “You’re fine. Everything is fine. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.” He held me like that for what felt like a lifetime.

  The anxiety, the fear in my body, dissipating as it was being replaced by something else – butterflies. He pulled me against his chest, banding his strong arms around me as he held me, whispering into my ear.

  “You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

  “Do you think... that guy last night... do you think we killed him?”

  “You remember that?” He asked, shaking his head before swallowing hard. “It was me, not us, and I don’t know.”

  I wanted to ask him if he even cared, but part of me knew he didn’t, and part of me didn’t either.

  “You know, attacking some guy who disrespects me won’t take away what happened.”

  “I know.”

  I closed my eyes, getting lost in the moment, surrounded by Ford. His touch, his smell. It was all-consuming. I was very aware he was in nothing but a pair of blue boxers and me in my panties and his too large t-shirt.

  “Take a few deep breathes. Embrace it. Pain lets you know you’re still alive.”

  “That sounds awful.”

  “Sometimes, that was what got me through.”

  “Like this?” I asked as I ran my fingertip ligh
tly over the jagged scar on his ribs. He shuttered, and goosebumps trailed my touch.

  “That tickles,” he smirked before his smile fell. “I had a rough time, even after my mom left my dad. I spent a lot of years learning to defend myself. I got into a lot of bad shit, Emery.”

  I leaned forward, pressing my lips against the mark, earning me a lopsided grin. “There. Kissed it and made it better.”

  Ford pulled back from me and searched my face. I gave him a small smile to let him know I was alright but instantly regretted it as his arms left my body.

  “We all have scars. Some are just better hidden.” I grabbed his hand with shaky fingers and guided it between my legs. I ran the pads of his fingertips across the raised lines of my inner thigh. My breathing was ragged, and I shuttered as his fingers brushed against my panties.

  “Emery,” he rasped, his eyebrows pulled together. He gently pushed my knees apart wider and knelt down further to inspect the marks that marred my smooth skin. “Did you do this to yourself?” His eyes met mine, but he didn’t move. “Why?”

  “After... I couldn’t tell anyone. I just wanted it all to go away. So, I took some pills, and I carved his initials there. I thought whoever found me, they would see it and they would know he did something bad.”

  He swallowed, his fingers gripping my thighs tightly enough to leave bruises from his fingertips.

  “I woke up hours later, blood all over my sheets.”

  “No one questioned that?”

  “I’m a girl. My mom just assumed...” I rolled my eyes as the memory of my mother, forcing me to pay for a new comforter because I wasn’t responsible enough to know when my period would start. “I scratched out the letters after it healed. It made me sick to have his initials branded on me,” I whispered. My chin began to quiver, and his face fell, studying the marking.

  “Kiss it and make it better?”

  “Emery –”

  “I just want good memories, Ford. I just want you. Please.”

  His eyes searched mine, uncertain. I nodded, unable to speak; unable to move. He swallowed, his throat bobbing before he leaned in closer, pressing his warm lips against the marks and causing me to gasp. I let my eyes fall closed as a noise emanated from the back of my throat. He kissed again and again, and for the first time ever, it felt like that simple gesture really did heal me. The warmth of every exhale breathing new life into my body.