by Sally Henson
When Susanna lost her scholarship, she lost her chance to get out of our dead-end town. She also lost the one thing she'll never get back—her virginity.
She didn't even get to go to a community college that first year after high school because she had to work to pay for her and her baby. Her parents said, if she wanted to play house like an adult, she could work like one, too.
What happened to Susanna scares me to death. I absolutely cannot stay in Stelmo for the rest of my life.
The pressure pushing against my chest increases with each beat of my heart. I clutch at my shirt. My dad would disown me if I ever got pregnant before I was married. With my brother gone, I would have no one to help me.
My thoughts go back to my cousin. After Jesse found out, he told Susanna they would get married and move to Carbondale together. Once his family got involved, though, everything changed. The Fanigers did everything they could to trash Susanna. All in the name of protecting “Jesse’s precious future.” His family claims little Abby’s not even his child, telling everyone Susanna slept with every guy in the senior class. To this day, Stacey continues to carry on the family tradition, spreading lies about Susanna every chance she gets.
He didn’t stay with her. That spineless jerk didn't even try to stand up to his family when they drug Susanna through the mud. He went off to college and never looked back. He doesn't even come home to see his little girl. The jerk’s not even paying child support. The state's done the testing to prove Abby’s his, but unfortunately, since the scumbag, Jesse, doesn't have a job, they can't collect any money.
Susanna, on the other hand, is trying to juggle being a mom, working, and going to college. She told me she loves her daughter, but this isn’t the life she planned. She should have waited and saved herself the pain of failing God, herself, her parents, her future, and especially Abby.
It was painful listening to her pour out to me her life with Jesse and without him. Even after all the crap she's been through, she says she still loves Jesse. I don't understand how she could love someone who would drop her like a piece of trash.
New tears stream down my face in her honor. My heart aches for her.
My mom never explained sex like Susanna did. I mean, she probably shouldn't have been so graphic, but she said it was important for me to know everything. She said your whole world changes when you fall in love and you want to love every part of that person including their body. And a girl needs the protection of marriage to bare her mind, body, and soul. Without that commitment, she ends up being and feeling used and devastated and is left with nothing to show but a child without a dad. She would know.
She said her best advice is not to have any boyfriends until I'm at a place in my life where I'm ready to get married. As extreme as that might sound, it seems like great advice to me.
The tumultuous storm outside has settled into a steady rain. No longer crying, and long past sobbing, I spend some time on Lane’s third point. He seemed so sure of himself when he slid his fingers across my cheeks and planted his lips on mine. Gah, he’s always sure of himself.
Was that his first kiss? Probably not. He acted like he knew what he was doing. Lane's good-looking and eighteen, for Pete's sake.
It was my first kiss, though. It wasn’t some quick peck on the cheek, either. Even now my body warms thinking about it. It was the kind of kiss you read about that gets your heart alert and your mind thumping…argh…I mean your mind alert and…oh, whatever. Just thinking about it, him, what happened, gets me all flustered. His lips were so warm, moving slow and meaningful on mine. I kick my legs and arms against the bed and silently squeal.
Reliving the moment has my blood racing through my body like a Ferrari EnzoEn on the Autobahn. But I just stood there, frozen, unable to move my legs, unable to speak at the time. I roll to my belly and bury my head in the pillow. I'm such an idiot.
I flop back over and bite my lip as I stare at the ceiling. I did eventually hook my fingers in his belt loops at his hips. So, I guess I did move, a little. A shout of delight bubbles inside my chest, but I hold it in. Lane’s kiss was both the most amazing and the scariest thing I have ever felt.
The rain is subsiding, and it's the wee hours of the morning. My eyes hurt. It feels as if there’s no liquid left in my body. There's a mountain of crumpled toilet paper used as tissues on the floor beside my bed. I'm exhausted and keyed up at the same time. I need more time to sort this out—a couple more days to find a solution. I don't really want to think of Lane as anything more than a friend and screw up our futures. But can I take someone else being his girl?
My muscles hurt from this internal fight. Obviously, I could ignore, or at least deny, anything more than friendship before. My stomach coils in knots again. Can I continue to do that, or is it all but impossible now? Will going on as friends be enough for him?
My heart sinks. After that kiss, I doubt it.
Before I finally drift off to sleep, I pray a selfish prayer.
God, help me make the right decision with Lane. I like the way he plays with my hair and his kiss tonight. But I don't want to make the same mistakes as Susanna, and I need to get out of this town. I don't want to lose him as my best friend, either. This problem of mine is nothing, compared to all the problems of the whole world, but it’s my little world, and I know you care about it, too. Please help me make the right choice, Jesus.
24
Regan
Monday
Monday morning is as expected: disastrous. I have a headache, and I didn't get enough sleep. Luckily, I awake while Dad, my human alarm, still sleeps. Before I do anything else, I bag up all the tissues that piled up on my floor last night and shove the bag in the kitchen trash can.
At breakfast, my mom asks me if I feel all right—I don't. My stomach hurts, my chest feels like it’s caving in, my eyes are red and puffy, and I think I'm dehydrated. Of course, I don’t share this with her. Instead, tell her I'm fine. She eyeballs me all morning but doesn't say too much.
At practice, Tobi tells me I look like a train wreck. I'm last in about every drill we run through. After practice, I have a splitting headache. Tobi tries pumping me for information about the state I’m in, but I'm able to push her inquisitions off by telling her I feel like I’m getting sick.
A nap and plenty of water through the day makes open gym that night a little easier to handle. I push Tobi off again, go straight home, shower, eat supper, then go to bed. I cry again, pray for direction—guidance—help—a light bulb or something to go off. Eventually, I fall asleep grieving the loss of my best friend.
25
Regan
Tuesday
Tuesday is much like Monday. My head aches before I even get out of bed. When I look in the mirror, my eyes are almost like slits they’re so puffy. Splashing my face with cold water doesn’t help the swelling go down.
The smell of eggs and sausage cooking makes my stomach grumble in hunger and heave at the thought of eating. I'm still dehydrated and down several glasses of water.
Mom wants to play Twenty Questions this morning. Not wanting to share the details with her yet, I tell her Lane and I had a fight. She nags me until I eat something. I can only stomach a few bites of sausage and a half of a piece of toast.
This routine of crying half the night, sleeping only a few hours, and eating a few bites at every meal isn’t healthy, but I can’t seem to do anything about it.
At practice, I’m nearly dead last in drills and running. I’m able to push Tobi off, again, telling her I still don’t feel good. On my way home, I roll the windows down. The fresh air and sunshine feels good against my skin and lifts the weight I’ve been under. It’s like my pores are sucking in the oxygen molecules and they magically fill my lungs so I can breathe without pain.
When I pull into the shed, the lightness and ease I felt dissipate. One look at the spot where my life was turned upside-down two days ago stirs a tangled mess inside me. pain return with the I Memories of a racing heart
and butterflies dancing mix with knots of breaking rules and broken dreams fight for control. I shut the Jeep off and let my head fall back against the seat. My heart is overruling my brain and insists on rehashing my first kiss.
Finally, after I am fully messed up and twisted about Lane again, I muster the strength and drag myself to the house. Mom’s busy with sewing and I do my best to avoid her by taking a shower and a nap. Sleep comes intermittent and restless. I have no escape.
I lie on my bed, gritting my teeth and stare at the ceiling. I know I’m overly tired, but the constant turmoil is taking a toll on me and it’s Lane’s fault. Why did he have to open his mouth? My fist pounds against the bed. I could have kept this attraction tucked away, maybe.
I try to read, but I can’t concentrate. Since I can’t focus on reading, I watch my favorite movie. It’s distracting enough to get me through the rest of the day.
I’m still tired at open gym, and my defense sucks as bad as I did last night. Tobi knows I’m keeping something from her. She’s gracious enough to give me one more day and then she said I have to tell her what's going on—or else.
I drive straight home afterward. Every time I get in or out of the Jeep in the shed, I relive my kiss with Lane and the hurricane of emotions whirls inside of me. I hope and pray a shower washes it all away.
The hot water lessened the tension, but my stomach is still in knots. I’m able to put on a façade that I’m okay at the dinner table and manage to eat enough to keep my mom from nagging me. As soon as I get the dishes washed up, I brush my teeth and go to bed.
I lie in the dark with my window open. I need to hear the sounds of the night to keep me from crying out loud. Toil and anguish rip my heart in two as I try to figure out what to do about Lane.
Susanna’s experience and words of wisdom are nagging on me. It doesn’t matter if I have a connection with Lane that goes beyond friendship, I can't allow it. Even if I want him to kiss me again, we shouldn't go there. Susanna has me scared to death of dating anyone for fear of things getting out of hand.
I don't want to ruin our friendship ... if it's not already. If I cross the line into anything more than friendship, my goals and dreams might evaporate. I’m afraid I’ll end up like Susanna. The thought makes my heart sink. Being married would ax becoming a marine scientist and moving to the coast. Everything I’ve planned and dreamed about would change. And I don't want to fail God, either.
Ugh. I wrap my arms around my stomach and roll on my side. I can feel my supper churning in my belly. I can't date Lane. I'm not staying in Stelmo. If Lane does what his parents want he’ll stick around this black hole town. But can I go on without him?
It’s been two days and I miss him. Even though I’m still a little angry at Lane for not leaving things the way they were between us, I want to see him.
The pain in my temples explodes into an all-out stress migraine. Sleep. I need sleep. I’ll pray for God to show me what to do, and then I’ll be still and listen. Regardless of the outcome, I'll call Lane in the morning.
26
Regan
Wednesday
The sun is still coming up when my dad wakes me this morning. I have less of a headache today. My eyes are still puffy, though I didn't cry as much last night. I can feel it as I blink them open. And when I realize what today is, anxiety suddenly rushes in.
I turn away from my open door and press the palm of my hand against my chest, trying to ease the pressure. Just like dominoes, butterflies rush my stomach, my heart rate increases, and a jolt of fear courses through my veins. There’s no way I could stay in bed now, even if I wanted to.
I stomp to the bathroom for my morning rituals, and then return to my bedroom to get a grip. You can do this. With a couple deep breaths to calm my heart, I make my way through the kitchen so I can make my dreaded call.
When I pick up the phone, Mom asks, “Who are you calling this early in the morning?” She's at the stove cooking scrambled eggs.
“Lane.”
I love my mom, but this whole thing with Lane is too awkward to share with her. I really don't want to talk to him about it either, but it's not going away.
Mom keeps her eyes on the eggs in the skillet. “He's probably still sleeping. Are you sure you want to wake him?”
I swallow and answer, “Yeah. We need to talk. He's busy—I'm busy. He'll be leaving for college soon enough.” Tears sting my eyes and I blink them away as I head for the privacy of my room. He’s leaving, Regan, get used to it.
I dial his number and sniff. Mrs. Cary answers with the standard hello. “Mrs. Cary? This is Regan. Is Lane around?”
“He’s still asleep. Is everything all right?” She sounds concerned.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” I don't want to give her any details. “Would you let him know I’m on the phone?”
“Okay, honey, just a moment.”
I can hear her walk through the house and open his door. An uptick of air whistles through my nostrils.
“Lane? Lane, sweetie. Regan is on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”
“Huh?” His sleep-ridden voice sounds hoarse.
“Regan is on the phone.”
“She is?” he yawns. “Thanks.” I hear the bedroom door shut as he clears his throat. “Regan. Good morning.” He sounds surprised and relieved.
“Morning.” Maybe this was a bad idea. I wrap my free arm around my middle. “Hey, I, uh.” I clear my throat. “I was wondering if you had a lunch break today. Are you working today?” Everything is coming out fast and clumsy. I feel so awkward.
“Yeah, I'm working. My lunch is at eleven.”
Oh no, I forgot. I hold my breath. “Hold on.” I press the phone to my chest and call down the hall, “Mom, you don't need the car today do you?” I didn't even think about asking her before I called him. Say no, say no.
“Not until about two this afternoon.”
My shoulder drop back into place. “Um, Lane? Can we meet for lunch?” Stop with the nerves … it's just Lane.
I hear his bed squeak. “Sure, that would be … uh, yeah … yes. Do you want me to pack something? Where do you want to meet?” He's getting a little excited and anxious, too, fumbling his words.
I lean my back against the wall of my bedroom and stare out my window, hoping the scenery calms my insides. “How about Eagles Landing?” Eagles Landing is the local roach coach food truck. The owner is a chef who ended up coming back to his roots of Stelmo. “It's supposed to be at Lake Nellie this week. We can get something there.”
“Sure. They’ve got great food.” There’s a long pause as if we’re leaving something unsaid.
“Okay. Bye.” I rush the words out, uneasy by the silence.
“Regan?”
“Yeah?” My chest tightens, wondering what he’s going to say.
More silence.
“I'm glad you called,” he lets out in a whisper.
Breathe.
“I'll see you later.” I try to hide my anxiety and click the “off” button.
27
Lane
After Regan hangs ups, I collapse onto my bed. I was beginning to think she wasn’t going to call me.
Like, ever again.
I seriously can’t imagine life without her, so I’m not sure how I could have handled that.
I’m so relieved, but my body’s buzzing with energy. The girls are still asleep. If I yell out a victory whoop, Mom’s not going to be happy I woke them up. A silent victory dance will have to due.
After a run and a long shower, I head into the kitchen for some breakfast.
Mom’s sitting at the kitchen island drinking coffee. “What’s with you this morning? You’re never up and moving like this unless you’re going hunting.”
Instead of telling her what happened Sunday, since Regan would kill me if I did, I opt for something vague. “Just in a good mood today.” I grab a bowl and the cereal out of the cabinet.
Mom holds her cup in both hands, takes a sip,
and looks at me with a knowing grin. “What did Regan want so early in the morning?”
I turn away and grab a spoon out of the drawer. Mom has this sixth sense. Somehow, she knows exactly what’s going on with me just by reading my eyes. I don’t know how she does it. It’s freaky. Avoiding connection with her gaze is the safest route.
“Oh, she heard Eagle’s Landing food truck is going to be at Lake Nellie today and wanted to meet for lunch.”
“Sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll take the girls by there,” she suggests.
I can feel her eyes boring into my head. Today’s Wednesday, the girls have dance today at eleven thirty, so even if they did go, we wouldn’t be there more than fifteen minutes at the same time.
I take the seat next to her and dive into my cereal. “Yeah, you should.”
At first, work is busy, but then is slows way down. It’s been slow most of the time lately and I feel bad for Mr. Nitsua. He’s paying me to stand around mostly. I try to stay busy, but I can only clean so much. Plus, I really want to spend time with Regan and my friends before I leave.
I knock on the office door. “Mr. Nitsua?
He looks up from his computer. “What’s up, Lane?”
I step into the doorway and lean my shoulder against the frame. “The store’s been slow lately and I appreciate all the hours you’ve been giving me and everything.”
He slides his glasses off and leans his back against the desk chair. “And?”
I shift my weight. “I’d like to move up my last day.”