by Nancy Bush
“As I recall, you sowed a few wild oats in high school yourself that could’ve ended in disaster,” Caroline reminded him.
“If I’d fathered a child, believe me I would’ve taken care of it.”
“Hmm.”
She sounded suspiciously disbelieving.
“Tina Phillips was not pregnant when she went back to California,” Jake growled, covering old, old ground.
“I wasn’t thinking of Tina.”
“Then who are you thinking of?”
“There were other girls.”
“Oh, right.”
“There were.” She studied her nails.
“I was there. I ought to know.”
“I could name one.”
Jake’s gut tightened. He knew where this was going and now he was really irked. Refusing to fall into the trap, he stayed silent. Caroline, however, seemed intent on making this an issue. “You know who I mean.”
“I didn’t keep a scorecard,” Jake declared through his teeth. “And I never got anybody pregnant.”
“Okay, okay.” Caroline suddenly capitulated, lifting her hands in surrender. Maybe she was as tired of the subject as he was. “Let’s drop it.”
Perversely, Jake now found himself wanting to jab the needle a little bit more. “You’re not talking about Sherry.” Caroline didn’t immediately answer, but the skin on her face drew tightly over her fine bones.
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
“Then why did you bring it up?”
She glanced at him, then gazed out the window, the corners of her mouth turning down. Jake’s annoyance melted. What was he doing? What were they doing to each other? “Sherry and I were — ” he broke off, unable to find the words.
“What?” Caroline pressed softly.
“Nothing. An infatuation that lasted a few months, that’s all.”
“Do you ever think about her?”
He shook his head, though he did think about her sometimes. He’d certainly thought about her last night after their run-in. Memories had danced inside his head so hotly that he felt almost hung over this morning, as if he’d indulge in some wild, bacchanalian orgy.
“You talked to my mother, didn’t you?” Jake realized. “She told you Sherry was in town.”
Caroline nodded. “It just kind of took me aback.”
“It’s all over and done with. Sherry left just before graduation. For God’s sake, Caroline, I was eighteen. That was so long ago, I can barely remember it.”
“I remember,” she said softly, and there was a wealth of feeling in those few words.
He gazed at her thoughtfully, uncomfortably. “Things matter too much when you’re young. It wouldn’t be the same now.”
She choked back a laugh. “Well, I hope things matter now!”
“You know what I mean.”
Caroline was reflective. “You had a hard time getting over her, Jake.”
“Yes. I did.” He and Sherry had had a huge fight and then she was gone. Straightening his shoulders, Jake said, “You know all about it.”
“It’s just that sometimes I think if it had just faded away, it would’ve been better. For me. And you,” she added haltingly. “Why do you think she came to see you now?”
“She said she didn’t come to see me.”
“Patrice said she did.”
Jake’s pulse jumped, but he hid his reaction, realizing Caroline was feeling too insecure to understand. “Patrice can’t stand Sherry. She never could. God knows why. Maybe because Sherry didn’t live ‘on the water.’”
“Don’t be so hard on your mother,” Caroline defended quickly, hearing the implied rebuke. Her feelings paralleled Patrice’s too closely for her to take any criticism in that direction.
“Don’t be so kind. Patrice can take care of herself.”
Caroline curled her fingernails into her palms. “Would I be out of line if I asked you not to see her again?”
“Sherry?”
“I know it’s silly.” She lifted one shoulder helplessly.
“It is silly,” Jake agreed.
“I know, but, will you not see her?”
Jake narrowed his eyes at his fiancée, aware of undercurrents he’d never heretofore suspected beneath Caroline’s placid exterior. “I don’t even want to see her, but if I run across her, I’ll talk to her.”
She didn’t like the answer but she could hardly lay down the law on an issue that was so old. “Just don’t go out of your way, okay?”
“Caroline!” Jake laughed at her fears, both touched and irritated at the same time.
“Promise,” she demanded, blue eyes gazing anxiously into his.
“What is this?”
“I don’t know. I was just so in love with you, and all you could think about was Sherry Sterling.”
Her passion surprised him. She was incredibly intense, and it was so out of character that Jake could only stare. With a feeling of unreality, he lifted his hands in surrender. What did it matter, anyway? Sherry Sterling was a chapter from his past.
Ten-fifteen and Beachtime Coffee spilled over with people. Sherry felt positively guilty about hoarding one of the few tables all to herself, but she was powerless to move. Apathy had settled over her at the chore she’d been given. Why couldn’t J.J. Beckett just be a bittersweet memory? That was where he belonged, between the pages of a faded photo album, occupying a tender, but miniscule, corner of her heart. He was her first love. That was all she wanted him to be.
Unfortunately, he was so much more.
Drawing a deep a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of coffee and listened to the amiable chatter around her. Then she made the mistake of closing her eyes, or maybe it was a calculated move by her nagging mind, and another memory hit her: the first time she and J.J. made love in the Beckett tree house.
It was the beginning of senior year. She’d worked at Bernie’s all summer and slowly, little by little, she’d drawn closer to J.J. whose reasons for dropping by after work grew thinner and thinner until he made no pretense at all that he was stopping in to see her. This put Sherry into orbit. It was unbelievable. The word on the street was that J.J. Beckett and Sherry Sterling were an item–and it was true.
First day of school. The other girls glared at her in envy and disbelief. She could read it in their faces: what’s she got that’s so great? Sherry basked in the glory of it. She didn’t dare tell them that apart from a few moments alone, when he’d either driven or walked her home — she still hadn’t gotten over her fear of him seeing her ramshackle house so those times were few — they hadn’t shared much of anything except that one kiss.
That all changed after the first football game. It was a hot night and Sherry waited near the sweating cheerleaders for the game to end and for J.J. to be all hers. She still detested football. It was a brutal sport in the same league as boxing, as far as she was concerned. But she kept those thoughts firmly to herself and after a fabulous game where J.J. threw seven completed passes to Tim Delaney, she was ushered away from the screaming fans by Mr. Quarterback himself for a secluded drive up the beach and a make-out session that left her breathless.
“Just don’t bite me again,” he whispered after their first bout of frantic kissing.
Sherry struggled with the gearshift knob, which stubbornly inhibited how close they could get to each other. “I only bite people who deserve it,” she murmured, thrilled by his low-throated chuckle
“I’ve got to get an automatic,” was his response before his mouth was crushed against hers again and he twisted around so the gearshift was his problem.
Heaven. Pure heaven. That’s what it was. Their trips to an isolated spot on the beach became more frequent. At first she tried to play it cool. She wanted him to think she didn’t care that much. It was safer that way. But in truth, her old attraction was revved up, full throttle. With every kind gesture and happy grin he rained on her, she lost herself a little more. Like an undertow sucking her beneath its deceptively c
alm surface, she felt herself pulled down under the power J.J. Beckett’s personality. She told herself that he was a heartbreaker; his reputation had been earned honestly. She still remembered how he’d kissed her the night he’d nearly frozen to death from hypothermia. That one kiss — the one she reviewed in her head almost nightly — had told her everything. She knew his advances weren’t to be trusted.
But Sherry’s heart was involved now, and her careful conscience was ignored. She and J.J. began engaging in some heavy petting and although she told herself not to be stupid, she wanted him.
Then one day in the girls’ bathroom she overheard some disturbing news about J.J.’s feelings for her — news she didn’t want to believe.
She was inside the stall, just getting ready to leave, when she heard Annie, a friend of Caroline’s, talking with several other girls, among them one Sherry liked, Summer Mape. It was a riveting conversation and Sherry couldn’t help eavesdropping.
“You know what he wants from her,” Annie was saying, heaving a huge sigh. “I mean, I love J.J. to death but he certainly moves through the women, y’know? This Sherry’s too easy. He’ll be sick of her so fast it’ll be epic.”
“You really think so?” one of the listeners asked her eagerly. Everyone loved to think some other girl was a slut.
Sherry stood still as a statue.
“Well, she doesn’t have a curfew. She’s hanging around all the time. Her dad’s a drunk and her mom’s a basket case. I heard my parents talking. Sherry’s clinging to J.J. for dear life, if you know what I mean. Personally, I feel sorry for her.”
“Maybe he really likes her.”
“Oh, he does like her,” Annie agreed earnestly. “He likes her a lot. But it won’t last. That’s just J.J.’s way. As soon as they’re won — ” she snapped her fingers “ — he’s on to the next one. And he always stays friends, which is the worst ‘cause it just gives them false hope. Take a lesson — never give it up to J.J. Beckett. Remember Tina?”
Sherry leaned closer to the stall door, straining to hear. She knew all the J.J. Beckett stories but now that she was involved with him she wanted to hear them again. Tina may have been a notch in J.J.’s belt but that didn’t mean Sherry would be. J.J. and Tina had been just a hook-up. Everyone knew that.
Annie’s voice lowered confidentially. “Tina tried to trap him. She even told him she was pregnant.”
“Dumb,” one of the girls breathed.
“I know, but J.J.’s mom took care of everything. Paid her off and shipped her back to California. I think she had an abortion.”
“I thought that was just a rumor. You’re sure she was pregnant?” This was from Summer whom Sherry knew to be cautious about unsubstantiated rumors. Thank God someone was.
“Tina didn’t leave school for nothing,” Annie pointed out frostily. The other girls murmured their agreement, and Annie added, “She stalked him like a psycho, poor bitch.”
“Why would she get an abortion, then?” Summer asked. “Sounds like she’d want some connection to him. She’d probably keep the baby.”
“That’s just what I heard,” Annie said, annoyed.
There was a shuffling of feet and backpacks, and they left in a herd. After several minutes Sherry carefully let herself out of the stall. To her shock Summer was still there, lost in moody introspection as she stared at her own red-haired, freckled reflection. Sherry’s eyes widened and met Summer’s in the mirror.
“Eavesdropping,” Summer remarked without rancor. “I don’t believe much of what Annie says. You shouldn’t, either.”
Embarrassed, Sherry nodded. After a moment she added, “I don’t want to be the next notch, though.”
“Then you better be careful.” Summer was pragmatic. Always. Sherry learned that fact quickly over the following months for, although she didn’t know it at the time, she and Summer, along with Roxanne, were destined to become good friends — the first truly good friends Sherry had ever known.
But for the moment Sherry was cautious. “What do you think I should do?”
“About J.J.?”
Sherry nodded.
“You really want him?”
“I don’t know.” Yes.
“One thing I know about J.J. Beckett, one thing everybody knows about him — he doesn’t want an easy conquest.”
“Right now were just sorta hanging out together. He calls me up and we do something with a bunch of his friends.”
“Never alone?” Summer arched one russet eyebrow.
“Sometimes …”
Sherry didn’t want to talk about that. It wasn’t anybody’s business but hers — and J.J.’s. Yet, she had questions. Questions about how far to go. She knew other kids were doing it, but should she? Did she want to, yet?
Ever since their first kiss, Sherry had dreamed of something more. Passion, desire, aching need. When she was kissing him she felt as if they were melded together. The only two people on earth. All that mattered. But if she had sex with him, what then? Somewhere in the last few months she and J.J. had begun to trust each other. She was J.J. Beckett’s girl now, or so people liked to say — and she liked them to say it. And it wasn’t all just making out, either. J.J. was opening up. After Sherry stopped zinging him with sarcastic remarks, gradually J.J. had warmed up in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible.
In time she believed he would tell her he loved her.
“Hide your feelings a little, girlfriend. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Then you’d better learn. The more you show, the more he knows he’s got you.”
Sherry absorbed the news silently, knowing she would never be able to follow through. The impenetrable wall around her feelings had crumbled, disintegrated completely. She was so in love there was no hope of erecting a new wall now. When J.J. looked at her, really looked at her, she could read his thoughts and knew he was thinking of their private moments together. No, she couldn’t act like she didn’t care.
“Oh, God. You’re a mess, aren’t you?” Summer shook her head dolefully.
“I can’t stop thinking about him,” Sherry admitted.
“You love him?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Think he loves you?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Fine, tell me about a typical ‘date’ with Mr. All-American.”
“We haven’t been on that many real dates. He kinda comes over to the counter at Bernie’s and talks to me. Then he hangs around and fiddles with the napkin dispenser and the Parmesan cheese… and …”
Did this sound as stupid as she thought it did? Lord, she was an idiot!
“True love,” Summer observed flatly.
“We did go with Ryan and Kathy Pruitt to a movie one night,” Sherry said defensively.
She didn’t add that Ryan and Kathy had made out like crazy in the backseat to and from the movie, and Kathy had shot Sherry sharp, distrustful looks all evening. It had nearly ruined Sherry’s time with J.J. She’d been forced to merely hold his hand in the front seat, too uncomfortable to even share a kiss with the two of them going at it. As soon as she and J.J. were alone, he made her promise they would never go out with them again. It was a promise Sherry could easily keep.
But since that time, things had heated up between them — and Sherry had done nothing to stop it. From their first few times together, when Sherry’s pulse ran a few beats fast, to holding hands or feeling his arm thrown carelessly over her shoulders, to soft, stolen kisses, to a brush of his hands across her hair, ostensibly to pull it away from her face except that his hand lingered, sensuously stroking, before he seemed to recall himself — from those first times, things had progressed at lightning speed. Each time his hands had explored a bit further, tenderly touching while “No” ran through her mind, left unsaid, until she decided that this, too, was okay.
So, where did it end?
“Have you made love yet?” Summer asked.
&nbs
p; “No!”
“Good.”
“But… ,” Sherry said with a hard swallow.
“Keep from doing it as long as possible. That’s all I’m saying.”
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“Try not to be alone with him. He’s a really attractive guy and things happen. Make him commit first — but that won’t happen, ‘cause J.J. Beckett doesn’t commit to any girl. Go out with someone else. Keep a lock on your heart. Make him work to win you, and if he doesn’t even try, you haven’t lost anything because he didn’t care in the first place.”
“Wow.” Sherry’s head reeled from Summer’s clinical assessment.
“I’ve been through a few break-ups. They’re not fun. This is your first guy, right? J.J. Beckett’s a bad choice for a boyfriend. Especially a first one. He’s too cute, too popular, and basically too used to having everything come easy.”
“I’m not easy.”
Summer gave her a look Sherry wasn’t sure she liked. “Everyone knows you never have to go home. You’re every guy’s dream.”
“I’m not like that.”
“Who cares? Everyone thinks you are.”
“Well, they’re wrong.” She was burned.
“Then prove it. Leave J.J. alone.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Listen to me. Forget J.J. Go out with another guy. Meet someone new. Toy with some jerk’s emotions like they toy with ours. It’s rotten, I know — ” she spread her hands innocently “ — but it’s the only way I know to come out on top.”
“I don’t think I could be that mean.”
“Just wait for it. Some guy will come along who’s got his own ideas about what you need and how he’ll give it to you. That’s the guy who deserves to be slam-dunked. But not at first. Let J.J. see that he’s interested in you, then do it.”
“Maybe that works for you — ”
“It works for everybody. I’m telling you, if you shower J.J. with attention he’ll lose interest.” She snapped her fingers. “You gotta be smart.”
Sherry went away from that conversation with two ideas beating at her brain: one, she liked Summer, and two, holding on to J.J. would be next to impossible without some sort of manipulative stratagem. Although part of her rejected the idea straight out another part recognized the wisdom of her words. It was as if some distant, primeval feminine piece of herself that had known eons ago to use wiles and deception in order to keep the upper hand in a male-dominated world, suddenly sat up and grew ears. Yes, she needed to play this game. Yes, she needed another attentive male to play his particular role.