Reckless Together

by Gina Robinson

  What kind of alcohol do you want for your jello shots?

  I rolled my eyes and ignored it as my phone buzzed in my hand and another popped up.

  What's the weather supposed to be like this weekend? What kind of clothes do I need to bring?

  And so the sense of gloom, preceded by the sulfurous smoke of her text messages, began to settle over my happy college town. I resisted the urge to text back that the only clothes she needed were mom-type clothes—any style she wanted except skanky and cougar. I slid the phone back into my purse.

  Logan found me half an hour later. He wore a huge smile.

  "Looks like you survived the lion's den."

  "They went easy on me. Ready to pick up sweatshirts?"

  The day was partly sunny with a few non-threatening clouds scudding across the sky and windy, like always. Logan drove us to a small old house at the edge of Greek Row and had to cruise to find a parking spot. There was a line out the door of mostly girls picking up the matchy Geed sweatshirts for Mom's Weekend. The sweatshirt enterprise was a private venture by an enterprising student, who ran the whole operation. It was a great idea. The Greeks all had their matching gear. Why not the Geeds?

  Logan took one look at the line and laughed. "So this is where all the girls are." He took his phone out of his pocket.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Texting Collin and Zave to get their butts over here. There are some hot girls in line. I wonder if it's too late for them to buy sweatshirts?"

  "I wonder why you're noticing hot girls."

  "Just playing wingman for my buds."

  "Nice save." I bumped him playfully in the arm. "I also wonder if it's too late to get into the matching-sweatshirt business. Judging from the length of the line, someone is making a killing."

  It took nearly an hour to make our way through the line, into the beat-up house with its ratty furniture, and pick up my sweatshirts and Dex's.

  When we finally got back outside, the sun was shining full on and the clouds were disappearing. I grabbed the smallest of the sweatshirts from the pile Logan was carrying, snapped a picture and texted it to Mom along with the message, Clothing problem solved. Won't we look cute?

  "Sending her a picture of the extra small for Dex's mom is false advertising," Logan said. "You're delusional if you believe Melissa is going to wear a baggy sweatshirt."

  Sometimes I forgot he knew her. I hated being reminded. I shrugged. "A girl can dream."

  "That's what I love about you, El." His eyes danced. "Your naïve optimism."

  "That's what you love about me?"

  He flashed me his wolfish grin. "One thing. One of the many things."

  I folded the sweatshirt and tucked it under my arm as I texted Dex. "Let's go drop Dex's off."

  Dex was in his room waiting for us when we arrived. He rubbed his hands together eagerly, handed me a twenty that was part of the deal, and reached out for his gear. "Logan. Ellie. Welcome to my lair." He took his shirts from Logan and hefted them, fingering the fabric.

  I laughed as I watched him and pocketed my cash. "What are you? A sweatshirt connoisseur?"

  "Just checking the fabric. It's full of sizing." He frowned. "Mom will be suspicious if I wash them. She likes that fresh stiffness and the new smell." He waved us over to a chair, where he had a pile of sweatshirts. He rummaged around and pulled one from the pile. "Fortunately." He held up a finger. "I've thought of everything."

  "It's nice to be friends with the great brain," I said to Logan, who tried not to snigger.

  Dex wagged his finger at me. "I heard that, Ellie." He held up the plain sweatshirt. "Nothing on it, agreed? It's completely blank." He showed us both sides.

  We nodded.

  Logan whispered to me: "Where's he going with this?"

  "You'll see."

  Dex slipped the shirt on and flashed his back to us.

  "So far, unimpressive," I said. "It's a new blank gray sweatshirt."

  "Exactly." He hunched over and offered me his back. "Remember my puffy-paint tactile problem. Rub my back."

  "I'm not giving you a back rub." I crossed my arms.

  Dex looked over his shoulder at me and rolled his eyes. "Hurry, Ellie. We don't have much time."

  "Humor him," Logan said.

  I rubbed the sweatshirt. "I don't feel a thing."

  Dex glanced at his watch. "Prepare to be impressed. Now you don't see it…"

  "The suspense is killing me," Logan said. "Is this an inverse magic show? Isn't it usually 'now you see it'?"

  "Now you see it!" Dex said like he was parroting Logan.

  "Whoa!" My eyes went wide as brightly colored words appeared on his back. "'Not my idea,'" I read aloud. "I thought it was your idea."

  "The prank, not the matching sweatshirts. I'm going to write these words on the back of my Mom's Weekend sweatshirt and get my mother back for making me order them. And insisting we wear them everywhere." Dex looked over his shoulder, trying to see the writing that had appeared on his back. He looked a bit like a cat chasing its tail.

  "Yeah, but at least you didn't have to stand in line for them. We had to wait, like, an hour to pick them up."

  "Poor baby," Dex said.

  "You are way too good with sarcasm," I said. "Now if you could just manage sympathy."

  "Why do you think I conned you into picking them up? Waiting was part of the deal," Dex said.

  "I thought being seen as a mommy's boy by half the girls on campus was why you wanted me to do it."

  "Sucker," he said.

  Logan shook his head. "Dex, really, you're the fool. You missed out. There were a lot of hot girls. I texted Collin and Zave to get their butts over there."

  Dex nodded toward Logan. "You let him get away with eyeing other girls?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not his mother."

  Logan gave me a quick one-arm hug and walked over to inspect the back of Dex's shirt. "Awesome."

  "Heat activated." Dex pulled the sweatshirt off over his head. "Kind of like the coffee mugs and straws that change color. This is my own formulation. I really had to work at it. Most fabric paints bead up on sizing and don't soak in. That's why you have to wash things first before applying it. It's challenging to create one that soaks through the sizing."

  "How long will it take to disappear?" Logan was still staring at it after Dex laid it on the bed.

  "A couple of minutes." Dex looked at me. "Where are your sweatshirts, Ellie?"

  "I left them in the car."

  "Get them and I'll write something on them for you."

  I stared at him. "With your messy handwriting?"

  "I won't embarrass you. I've been practicing my penmanship." He pointed toward the bed and the sweatshirt on it. "That's an early attempt."

  "Even so, your block engineering lettering is very neat," Logan said. "And it's disappearing as we speak."

  "Don't praise him," I said to Logan. "He'll just get a big head." I winked at Dex.

  Dex laughed. "Too late. I've had a big head since I was born. Just ask my mom why she had to have a C-section."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Seriously, Ellie." Dex went to his desk and picked up one of those fabric-pen accordion tubes. "I can write anything you want."

  I pursed my lips, thinking. "'First-class bitch' has a nice ring to it?"

  "'For a good time call' is always fun," Dex said. "You have her cell number, right?" Dex turned to Logan. "Logan? How about you?"

  Logan shook his head and grinned. "I'm not a mama's boy. There's no way in hell I would ever wear the same thing as my mom. She knows not to ask."

  Dex shrugged. "Your loss. You're missing out on an awesome prank. I'll probably apply for a patent for my ink. If you want to use it in the future, it's going to cost you. Big time."

  I held my hand out to Logan. "You can't beat free. Give me your keys."

  Logan shook his head. "No pranking Melissa, El. You're supposed to be trying to get along."

  "Too late." Dex's gri
n lit up his whole face.

  "What is he talking about?" Logan asked me.

  "I have no idea," I said. But if Dex said he was planning something, I absolutely believed him. And hoped it would be good.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We had dinner at Jason and Lyssa's. Lyssa was big now—huge in the tummy, anyway. Jason joked that the baby was reclining in there. From the back, she looked pretty normal. When she turned around, it was almost shocking to see that big basketball-like bulge.

  At dinner, the conversation was pretty benign. Jason asked about Logan's interview. Logan was surprisingly vague about it. Or maybe it wasn't so surprising, since he was so sure he was wasting everyone's time. I tried not to think about that. The conversation turned to IT stuff. I zoned out and enjoyed looking around the table at my happy family, wishing it would always be like this. Vowing again that I would not let my mother hurt a single person here.

  After dinner, my baby sister Mia toddled around the living room, walking herself along the furniture. She was all smiles and giggles. I did the dishes for Lyssa and let her rest while I chased Mia around. At about eight, Mia's happy mood turned sour in that sudden way babies have. Lyssa picked her up and distracted her with the goodnight ritual—hugs and kisses for everyone. Mia gave big, sloppy, open-mouthed baby kisses all around.

  Logan laughed as he wiped baby drool off his lips. "Your sister's a good kisser, El. You could take a lesson from her."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Watch it, Walker." Jason put on the protective dad voice, but his eyes sparkled. "Those are my daughters you're talking about."

  When Lyssa returned from putting Mia to bed, she focused on me. "How are you holding up, Ellie? Are you ready for this weekend?"

  Lyssa was always kind and concerned, but her sympathetic tone put me on edge. She sounded too much like a counselor who was trying to fix things.

  I forced a smile and deflected. "As ready as I can be. I sent you my schedule for the weekend, right?" I bit my lip. "You probably noticed I'm going to keep Mom really busy." I paused. "It's the best way to deal with her and keep her out of trouble."

  "I wish you'd tell her about us," Lyssa said. "About Jason being your dad and about me and Mia and the baby."

  My gaze flicked to Lyssa's big belly, puffy ankles, and tired eyes. Now was not the time for her to go up against my mom. Not with Lyssa's delicate pregnancy hormones in full effect. Mom had a tongue like a stiletto—she could slice you up and bleed you out before you realized you'd even been cut.

  Jason shook his head subtly at Lyssa to warn her off. "We discussed this, Lyssa. This will be the first time Ellie's seen Melissa since…the incident. They have enough to deal with without complicating things with us."

  I loved my dad so much. He was the parent I'd always dreamed of. I hated Mom even more for keeping him from me. I nodded my agreement. "Yeah, there's really no telling how Mom's going to react to that news. With the divorce and everything that's happened, she's in a fragile emotional state."

  Not like I cared, but it sounded good and played well on Lyssa's sympathies.

  "She kept Dad's identity from me all my life. She has to have had her own reasons." I sounded so reasonable, but really I was punting. I didn't want to tell her, ever. "If this weekend goes well, then maybe…" I shrugged.

  Logan sat by quietly, but his fists were balled and it looked like he was fighting to hold back his opinions. I wondered what he knew.

  "It looks like you've planned a fun weekend for her." Jason glanced at Lyssa. "We'll stay out of your way." He grinned. "I was thinking we should have a line of demarcation. Main Street or First Avenue would be good. We stay on our half of town. You stay on yours. That way we avoid any accidental meetings. But we get Walmart, in case I need to make an emergency diaper or ice cream run." He winked at me.

  "Sounds fair," I said. "As long as we get all the bars. Mom wants the complete college experience."

  Jason shrugged. "Hey, she's of age. She can go for it." He looked at me like I better not be going for it. "I'll even throw in all the restaurants with good happy hours." He laughed.

  Lyssa sighed. "I really would like to meet Melissa sometime."

  I wrinkled my nose and made a face. "You think you do. But trust me, once you have, you'll wish you hadn't. You'll never be her friend. She doesn't like other women."

  Lyssa stared at me, not backing down.

  "Some day," I said.

  Logan

  Logan dropped El off at class late Thursday morning and headed to the library to study for his afternoon lab.

  It's your last semester. You already have three awesome job offers. Why aren't you coasting? All you have to do is pass your classes and you're out of here. Why do you give a damn anymore?

  Even his profs didn't give a shit. They were as eager to graduate seniors as the seniors were to get their diplomas and blow this joint. He'd have to screw up royally and practically force them to fail him.

  And yet a trifecta of specters chased him into the library when he could have been drinking with his buds—the remote possibility of grad school, which fueled the dream he could stay with El until she graduated. The trial. No way he was going to fuck up and give Her lawyers any ammo they didn't already have. And Mom's Weekend.

  Studying kept his mind occupied and the ghosts at bay. For the most part.

  He still worried about El. The stress of the upcoming weekend was making her crazy. She had activities planned down to the minute and was as obsessed with everything going perfectly as a frenetic bride. Tonight they were going shopping for last-minute stuff and then move the stuff El had at his place back to her dorm room. He'd tried to talk her out of it. They were practically living together. Why hide it from their parents? He wanted to spend every minute with her.

  His mom would go ballistic, but he didn't care. It was time she realized how important El was to him. El's mom would probably throw a parade. So what was the problem?

  El was the problem. And her fear of letting her mom see how in love she was with him. She'd made that mistake with Austin. What was Logan supposed to do? Act indifferent to El around her mom for the rest of their lives?

  He hated that douchebag Austin for betraying El. Hated that Austin's failure tarnished him. El said she didn't trust Melissa, that her mom could seduce the most angelic guy on the planet. But unless Melissa was willing to go as far as his old chem prof and use date-rape drugs, Logan wasn't going to fall prey to her charms. El was the only woman he wanted. He wanted her. He needed her. On his arm. In his bed. On his side.

  He'd rather be tested by fire with a full-on seduction attempt this weekend and prove to El he was immune to her mom than act out a charade. There was enough bullshit he had to hide this weekend as it was.

  His cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the number and reluctantly picked up. He had to bite his tongue not to say, Speak of the devil. "Melissa."

  "Logan." His name slid through the phone on a breath of seduction.

  He was unmoved, almost sickened by Melissa's obvious attempts to turn him on. She was mercurial and sneaky. Sometimes she was almost motherly. Sometimes she played cougar seductress. Knowing her past, he understood why she was like she was and sympathized. But it was damned hard to take, especially knowing what it did to El.

  At times like these, caught in the chasm of secrets between mother and daughter, he didn't know why he was trying to play white knight. Getting some kind of understanding between Melissa and El seemed impossible. Maybe not even smart. If he didn't love El so much, he would have given up.

  But he hated the power Melissa wielded over her. He was determined to break it and give El her life back. El held too much anger—some might call it hate—for her mom. Bottled it up. Hate is just as powerful an emotion as love. It has just as much power to consume. He knew. He lived with pure hatred daily. He was going to get rid of his, too. Soon.

  The opposite of love wasn't hate. It was apathy. A total lack of feeling or caring. Until El could get t
o the place where she could think of her mom in neutral tones and not let whether her mom loved her affect her, Melissa had too much power to destroy El. Logan worried that power would corrupt what he and El had.

  He felt like a poseur. He could never present this case to El, not when he was still consumed with hate for his rapist. That was another, more selfish reason he had to testify. He hoped once he got it all out, told his story, he could let go of the rage. That was the gift he was trying to give El now. It was too bad she didn't want it.

  "We have a problem, Logan." Melissa's silken voice brought him back to the moment. "Have you seen the ridiculous schedule Ellie has planned for me?"

  "Is that a rhetorical question?" His laugh came out more of a snort. "She spent hours planning and agonizing over it, trying to make sure you got exactly what you asked for—the complete college experience. What's the problem?"

  "Isn't that sweet of her. Friday night frat parties? She thinks her mom is a complete skank!"

  "Aren't you?"

  "Only when I want to be." She laughed. Insulting Melissa was practically impossible. "I didn't go to college, but I've been to enough frat parties to last a lifetime." She laughed again. "Maybe three lifetimes."

  "So? What am I supposed to do about it? Call Ellie and tell her you're not up for it."

  "Not up for it! You make me sound like an old lady." She sounded mockingly scandalized at the thought. "I'm not too old to party with frat boys. I just don't want to. This time." Her laughter would have been infectious if not for the cynical undertones in it.

  "So little time. So much to do. So much to accomplish this weekend. Getting back in my baby's good graces. Meeting her boyfriend's family." She let the last phrase dangle a moment before continuing. "My darling daughter's oh-so-thoughtful plans leave no time for intimately getting to know your parents and brother, Logan. A track meet? Seriously?"

  "What do you have against track meets?" Logan tried to sound lighthearted and teasing, but his heart raced. Melissa had something up her sleeve. Something El wasn't going to like.