by J. B. McGee
We were so innocent during those early high school summers. We had no idea what was to come. All I can remember is just being so fucking horny. I couldn’t keep my boner down half the time. And it wasn’t just me. All the guys liked her. Of course, she was oblivious. When I’d try to flirt with her, she’d grumble and pout. It just made me want to mess with her more. The pool was my favorite place because I could easily put my hands on her, toss her around, and catch her without her realizing how much I actually enjoyed it. Enjoy seems like an understatement. How much I relished it.
That day when Brody threw that snake, even though it was a standing rule not to run around the pool deck and we knew better, she slipped and fell. It was like everything played out in slow motion as her body fell backward. I was already to the side of the pool before she hit the ground, using the side as a spring board to propel myself out. But I was too late. Her head hit the concrete, and I realized in that moment I’d never be able to keep her safe. I was standing right there, and she fell right in front of me. In that instance, I was helpless, and it was the most hopeless feeling in the world.
And instead of going straight to her, the first thing I did was bust Brody’s fucking nose and send him careening through the air. He got lucky. He landed in the grass. His head was just fine. To this day, his nose is still crooked, though. I don’t think he’s ever thrown anything else on another soul since. Especially a fake reptile or amphibian.
That was the beginning of the talk about me. The beginning of Cammie slipping through my fingers.
By the time I got done with Brody, her friends were around her.
“What do we do? Oh my God!” Amie reached down and put her hand in the blood that had mixed with the water, so it looked like more than it really was. But still. There. Was. So. Much. Blood. “Should we try to take her to the hospital ourselves?”
“Cammie, how many fingers do you see?” Eddie asked. I appreciated his effort to assess her. Being the son of a neurologist, I guess he probably was thinking more about a concussion. Cammie was clearly with it. She was screaming and crying all the while making eye contact with me. Her pupils weren’t dilated. The only thing I feared was that her brains were hanging out of the gash on the back of her head. I was too afraid to look. I think we all were.
I swallowed and raked my fingers through my hair, then braced the back of my neck with my hands as I paced, my eyes never leaving hers. “Call nine-one-one,” I said without panic or any emotion really at all. None of us had any business trying to transport or move her. Hell, Brody had done enough, and I’d done enough to Brody. I wanted to be by her side, but everyone was crowded around her. It was like I was on the outside watching it all unfold. Little did I know that’s how I’d start to feel once news broke about the scandal.
Her wails increased. It was horrifying.
I’m sure she was crying because she was hurting and scared, but I recognized that other look on her face as she stared at me through it all. When we’d gotten in trouble as kids, she always had a bit of regret and remorse, like she wished she had a superpower that would let her go back and redo it. And then there was also this other look included every time. I didn’t know what it was for a long time. Eventually, I figured it out.
Humiliation mixed with embarrassment and a side dose of disappointment.
The difference between the other times I’d seen it and this time, was it was never a look directly pointed at me. I couldn’t get to her side to hug her, to comfort her. In fact, there was no way I was going to get a word in edgewise between the girls and the increasing volume of sirens. This was bad. This was so much worse than all the other shit we’d done over the years.
If I hadn’t hit Brody, we could have just called it what it was—an accident. But my hotheaded temper had turned it into more. It was that and assault. I shrugged before looking away at the familiar expression that overtook her face. I could see it out of the corner of my eye, and it made me want to hide, to be invisible, to vomit behind the bushes.
She ended up needing a couple of stitches. That incident created a small hole between the two of us. It was like my blow to Brody’s nose had planted a doubt in her mind about me that’d never been there. Teenage boys fight sometimes, but in Magnolia Grove, it was simply unacceptable. Cammie being the reason for it put her right in the middle of the talk, of the rumors. We wouldn’t have time to heal before we were dealt the next blow. That hole would turn into a gash, and there weren’t enough stitches to save us from drifting apart.
Not until last night.
What we’d experienced was the closest thing I’d seen to Cammie and Holden pre-gash. As I walked up and down the beach, I wondered if I was just being unrealistic. Had I been a coward all these years? Was I too late? Could we fill the hollowness between us with the only thing that could save us both—love?
For the first time in my life, the beach didn’t give me clarity. Time doesn’t stop, so it didn’t give me more of that to reflect and process everything that’d happened, either. The sun rose, and now it’s the start of a new day, a chance to fix the wrongs that have gotten in our way.
Nine o’clock comes and goes without so much as a call from her. I refuse to wait another second by the phone. In a way, it’s like I’ve been on autopilot since I left her. And my autopilot always takes me back to her. I’m convinced my soul was programmed to seek hers.
Last night, I locked her in this cabana safe and sound. She had no way to leave unless she called a damn Uber even though I told her not to and she agreed. I’ve already slipped my key in and unlocked the door, and the only thing left for me to do is turn the knob. The only thing stopping me is a single haunting thought.
What if she’s not here? That would suck since I made a stop on the way over here to pick her up some clothes from the house so she wouldn’t have to do a walk of shame. Nothing would get people in Magnolia Grove talking more than her wearing what she had on last night. Well, except for maybe her leaving wearing what she had on last night by my side. I smile. Damn, that sounds all kinds of fun. See, that’s my kind of shit. Make them think they have all the answers based on their perception when really I know their rose-tinted glasses are really red like the bloodsucker sons of bitches they are. So disillusioned.
Gripping the bag tighter in my hand, I roll my eyes and shake my head. Cammie wouldn’t find that fun. Or funny. Or entertaining. Or anything but repulsive probably. Good thing I stopped to get the clothes. I’m sure she would have totally expected the alternative, but she won’t be expecting this.
Curiosity killed the cat, and I can’t wait to see her again, so there’s only one way to find out. Turning the knob and slowly opening the door, I peek through the small crack I’ve created. Sucking in a breath, I ease my way through the entrance, closing it and latching the lock. Before me is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s sleeping on the couch. Her chestnut hair is a tangled mess. The skirt of her dress is hiked up around her hips.
Fuck. She and her no panty wearing self makes my cock start to strain against the zipper of my jeans.
Dropping the bag down at the foot of the couch, I grab a towel from one of the cabinets and drape it over her, and then pull up a chair.
I could stay like this and watch her forever. That sounded creepy, didn’t it? Shit, I’m getting soft.
Rolling on my side, I glance at the microwave clock in the kitchenette. Holden left around midnight, and it’s not even been two hours. I should be exhausted, totally spent, but I’m wide awake. I know it should be Oliver that’s on my mind, but it’s not.
It’s Holden.
The day before stupid Brody threw that fake snake at me and made me bust my head open in front of everyone at the pool, I was listening to music and reading in my room when the phone rang. “Hello.”
“It’s me,” a deep, husky voice said. I knew who it belonged to, but me equaled Amie. There was only one me when someone called. If someone other than Amie identified themselves as that pronoun
, I intentionally acted like I didn’t know who they were. Even now, I do it. Except there are two people who can get away with it. But back then, there was only Amie, and this was definitely not her.
“Who’s me?” The way I said it sounded more like, “Excuse me.”
“Really?”
My stomach flipped, and my smile widened at the amusement in his voice.
“It’s Holden. Who else would be me?”
And that was when one me became two. Because no one else could or would be him. Not in my eyes. I loved Amie, but I didn’t love Holden. Did I? “Hey.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?” Just like I knew who he was before I asked, I knew just what he was talking about. I’d purposely deflected it.
“Is there another me? Should I be jealous?”
What was he suggesting? We were friends. We always had been. Why would he need to be jealous of Amie? But looking back now, I know precisely what he was asking. “Unless you’re jealous of Amie, no.”
He chuckled. “I am sort of jealous of Amie.”
I swallowed, heat spreading over my body. “Why?”
“Just am.”
“Did you just call to chat?” Holden rarely ever called me. Although, the time we spent on the phone had been increasing lately.
“I wanted to know if you wanna go play laser tag with us.”
“Depends.” I grabbed a receipt and used it to mark my place in the book I’d been reading. I could hear his sharp intake of breath. I’m not sure why I liked it, but I did. It made me want to mess with him the way he messed with me so much. Had I finally found a way to get under Holden Masters’ skin? “Who’s we?”
“Brody…Amie…me.”
Interesting. “Like a double date?”
He sighed. “I knew you’d think that.” Butterflies started to take flight in my stomach. My mouth grew dry. He was wrong. I didn’t think that. My hopes hinged on it. They were on free fall. They’d been dangled high the moment he asked the question. I knew there was only one way for my hopes to go. There was no way for them to be any higher, so down was it. And hearing him say it like that had been the trigger propelling them to being splattered on the ground beneath me. “Brody and Amie aren’t a thing, so it can’t be a double date.”
He didn’t say, “We aren’t a thing.” But he didn’t have to. We weren’t. I understood perfectly. “Good. That would have been awkward since we’re just friends.” As soon as I said it, the words scorched my tongue. All the butterflies that had taken up occupancy in my stomach suddenly crashed, like someone had cut off their wings, their ability to fly high. I didn’t like the way that felt. I held my breath waiting for him to do surgery on the butterflies, to give them hope again, but Holden didn’t say anything. He just sat there. I couldn’t even hear his breathing through the line. “You there?”
“Meet me outside in fifteen minutes.” His voice was normal. Like nothing had just happened.
“Fifteen minutes?” I gasped. “Have you lost your mind?”
He laughed. “I’m thinking you’re already dressed. Your hair looks fine no matter how you wear it, and you don’t need makeup. You probably don’t have shoes on, so grab some sneakers. That leaves you fourteen minutes to stand in front of the mirror pretending, or rather practicing, to kiss me. See you in fifteen.”
My mouth gaped open as I surveyed my outfit as he spoke. Cutoff jean shorts, crop top, a messy ponytail, and makeup free face. How’d he know that? “Wait. What did you just say?”
Silence.
“Holden?”
Ringing. The operator. A generic message about dialing a number or something.
He actually hung up on me.
I shook my head. He can’t say stuff like that and just hang up. I thought for a second about calling him back, telling him off, but I figured he expected that. I’d show him.
In the bathroom, I fixed my ponytail, making it less frizzy. He said I didn’t need makeup, but I didn’t need to impress him—my friend. No, I was aiming for the potential cute guys at the laser tag place. I needed to look my best.
Reflecting back on that day, maybe he really was the only one I was interested in impressing. Probably. Definitely. Especially since he was the only guy I could look at. And boy was he hella cute.
I slapped on some bronzer, a little eye shadow, mascara, and a neutral lipstick. When I was done, it had been exactly fourteen minutes since we’d hung up. Staring at myself in the mirror, I replayed his words about practicing kissing him.
It was stupid.
Did people really do that?
Before I knew it, I was leaning into the mirror and watching my eyelids until they were so droopy my vision shifted to my parted lips. My breath created condensation. Then, I pressed my mouth to the cool mirror and eased my tongue out.
Yes, it was all kinds of stupid. Kissing Holden wouldn’t be like this unless he wasn’t into it. There wouldn’t be a barrier. It wouldn’t be cool, but rather warm and inviting. I wondered what he’d taste like. Definitely better than the mirror. God only knows what kind of germs were on it. Or how many. I pushed the negatives out of my mind, pretended he had his hands on either side of my head, and tried for a better angle before attempting to deepen it—with a solid, flat surface that didn’t budge. Not my smartest move ever.
“Damn.” His voice was low and husky. “You actually did it.”
I jumped back, leaving my heart in the sink, my dignity splattered all over the mirror. “What are you doing here?” My voice was too low, too breathy. “Who let you in?”
Holden was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorjamb. His eyes were dancing, and his smile was delicious. I wanted to test out what I’d practiced right then, but there was no way I’d allow him any more satisfaction in this little game he was playing.
I cleared my throat. “Who let you in?”
He shrugged in the same manner he’d been doing our entire life when he was about to speak a truth I didn’t want to hear. “I didn’t need to be let in, Cam. I have a key because you lock yourself out so much.” His eyebrows arched. “Remember?”
I sucked in a huge breath, but when I did, it was like the space between us vanished. I’m not sure if I took a step, if he did, or if it was both of us. He was looking down at me. When had he gotten so tall? I licked my lips. He started to walk, pushing me back toward the wall. When I was there, he pushed his hips into mine. Gargantuan butterflies took flight, and my ability to think clearly vanished. So did my ability to form words. I parted my lips, but only a moan escaped.
He boxed me in with his arms. The towel bar was like a headrest because the only direction I could move it was up, looking into his azure orbs. He brushed his nose with mine. “I told you that you didn’t need the makeup.”
I nodded, but really I meant to shake my head, so I switched the direction it was moving.
He smirked. “I like you.”
This time my head got the right signal from my brain, and it bobbed up and down. “Holden.”
“No, I really like you, Cam. Like ‘I want your lips on mine’ like you. Like ‘I want your tongue exploring my mouth instead of the mirror’ like you.”
My head got confused again, and instead of saying no, it continued to bounce in an affirmative direction. I swallowed as his lips lowered to mine.
The phone rang just as he was close. So. So. Close. I didn’t know what I wanted. When he backed away, I inched forward—like I was begging him to ignore the ringing—but he didn’t. He turned away, and when he looked back at me, he was as cool as the mirror I’d practiced kissing on a few minutes earlier. “You should get that,” he said, his tone suddenly distant as if he hadn’t had his hips pressed into mine and his lips ready to crash into mine, as if he wasn’t about to claim me.
“Yeah.” I walked to my room and picked up the phone before breathing a hello into the receiver.
“It’s me.” The other me. The Amie me. “
I’m so glad you haven’t left yet. Pack a bag with several days’ worth of stuff. Your mom just called my mom and said they need you to stay over for a bit while they take care of some business.”
Weird. Seemed like my mother would have discussed that with me, but it wasn’t the first time that has happened. I glanced at Holden. Wait. My birthday was in a few days. He randomly asked me out. Amie told me to pack my stuff. Was this some kind of ploy to distract me while they planned a birthday bash for me?
My eyes found his, and I studied him the way he was doing to me. I’m not sure either of us got the answer we were searching for out of the other, but eventually, we both broke the gaze, looking in opposite directions.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
After I hung up, I grabbed an overnight bag and started shoving stuff in it. It was impossible to ignore his overwhelming presence. I sucked in a deep breath then huffed, frustrated the ventilation in my room was insufficient. “I am apparently staying with Amie for a few days. You know anything about that?”
“Why would I?”
“This whole thing is weird. You calling to ask me on a non-double date, pretending to want to kiss me—leading me on—and now staying with Amie. Something’s off.” I didn’t even look up. I was just shoving crap into my bag. The sooner I packed, the sooner we could leave, the sooner I wouldn’t be alone with Holden.
A piece of nylon dangled in front of my face like an old clock ticking. “Don’t forget me,” he said in a cute voice.
I snatched the top part of my bikini. “Give me that.”
“I guess you need this part, too.” He shook the bottoms around, but when I reached out to grab it, he snatched it back.
“Give it to me.”
He laughed. It was contagious. I couldn’t help but giggle, too. In that moment, as I chased him around my spacious bedroom, I knew what I’d felt when he pulled away from me in the bathroom was disappointment. My hope shattering yet again. In that moment, I memorized his face because it looked different than I’d seen it in the past.