1981: Jessie's Girl (Love in the 80s #2)

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1981: Jessie's Girl (Love in the 80s #2) Page 4

by Lindy Zart


  “I was thinking my best friend was going to be shot and I couldn’t stand the thought of you not being here,” she screams back, her hair as wild as her eyes. It gives her an animalistic vibe that is—not what I should be thinking about.

  Brackets of worry line her mouth, and her eyes are black with fear. I inhale unevenly, not able to draw enough air into my lungs, and each time I exhale, dizziness sparks through me. I could have lost her as effortlessly as she could have lost me. Loving people fucking sucks sometimes. Jessie and Dickie are my best friends, but Hannah is the best of the best. We connect in a way I don’t with anyone else. Simply put, she’s my other half. I’m not entirely sure what that entails, but it’s true.

  I grab her face. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again, got it?”

  She nods, her eyes shimmery with unshed tears.

  I pull her into a tight hug, and she hugs me back. Her little body perfectly fits within the frame of mine. I’ve hugged her many times, and never have I noticed that before now. Hannah’s sweetly faint scent wraps around me like her whole existence hugs mine, and I finally begin to believe that she’s okay, and I’m okay. We’re all okay. It makes the quiver in my limbs worsen. What a way to start the road trip.

  “Sam?” Her voice is muffled and quiet against my arm.

  “Yeah?”

  “I lied.” She pulls away, the fire in her eyes telling me not to bother arguing. “I’d do it again. I’m sorry, but I would. And I’m not sorry, actually.”

  I ran a hand through her hair, my fingers getting tangled in the thick locks. I pull her to my side as a police officer approaches us. “I’d do the same.”

  The beer is warm, but Jessie insists on having a celebratory drink in the parking lot of ‘Noah’s Incredible Adventure’, one of the more popular attractions in Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin. It’s mid-morning and the parking lot is filling up around us as we hover in a circle, clad in swimsuits and sunscreen with our lukewarm beers in hand. We look ridiculous, and I feel like an ass.

  “We need a toast. Ready?” Jessie eyes us all.

  “Go for it,” I tell him, positive it will be a righteous one, and by that, I mean that it won’t.

  “To heroes with supersized ammunition.” Jessie nods at Dickie, whose skin seems to be permanently red since the restaurant reveal.

  Dickie looks away and shakes his head.

  “And stupid bravery.” He looks at Hannah and she lifts an eyebrow in response.

  Jessie smirks at me. “And peace-talkers who don’t say anything helpful.”

  “And foxy ladies who know how to dial up the good guys.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Catherine and she smiles.

  “And especially, here’s to jerks who get hit with bullets! Yeah!” He chugs the can of beer, the bandage on his arm catching the sun and glinting like a stamp of courage against his tanned and toned build.

  Jessie’s lucky—the bullet merely grazed his upper arm, taking a chunk of skin with it and raising him to an unconquerable status he won’t benefit from. He already thinks he’s invincible.

  When the can is empty, Jessie crushes it to his forehead and flings it through an open window of the car.

  “What a great speech. I’ll never forget it, no matter how much I want to,” Hannah says dryly, tossing back the brew like it is water. Her one-piece is black, showing off her nicely muscled legs but not much else.

  I grimace as the beverage swims around in my mouth before I choke it down, repeating the motion until it’s halfway gone. Dickie doesn’t touch his beer, staring miserably at the ground as his short fingers dig into the aluminum he holds. He hasn’t removed his glasses or his shirt, but he did change it from the plaid button-down to a simple gray tee.

  Catherine’s arm brushes across mine as she timidly sips from her can of beer, her eyes shifting from the hot pavement to the car to Jessie. She looks lost, unsure of herself among us. Catherine is creamy skin and long limbs, her stomach slim to the point of being concave. The bikini she’s wearing is sea green and skimpy, and I am silently hoping it falls off at some point today, but only if I’m nearby.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, wondering if she’s normally this quiet or if it’s because she’s feeling overwhelmed. I can see how that could happen after being around us for a while.

  “Oh, um, yeah.” She nods, the worry line on her forehead smoothing as she looks at me. “I’m okay. Thanks for asking.”

  I shrug off the gratitude like it’s no big deal, even though I’m grinning on the inside. “Anytime.”

  When I look at my friends, it’s to find them all watching us. Jessie has a thoughtful look on his face, which, that in itself is worrisome, but as I watch, he turns it on Hannah, and it melts into dark satisfaction. I frown and unconsciously take a step closer to her as Jessie lifts his eyes to mine, just for an instant, just long enough for me to wonder what he’s thinking. I don’t think I’ll like it, whatever it is.

  “Are you ready to rock?” Jessie suddenly shouts, jumping in the air and whooping as he takes off toward the park. “Let’s go, you slowpokes!”

  “Too many muscles and not enough brain,” Hannah says, her tone regrettable and completely fake.

  With a shrug, Catherine takes off after him, her rump jiggling as she jogs. It makes my mouth go dry. I stare in fascination, wanting to do all kinds of things with Catherine that Jessie would beat in my face for even thinking.

  Hannah notices the focus of my eyes, shoving at me. “Don’t gawk. It’s rude.”

  I stagger to the left, stepping on a piece of sharp rock as I right myself. I sling an arm around Hannah’s shoulders and mash the side of her face to my armpit in retaliation. “Now you’ve gone too far. Smell the wrath of my ire.”

  “Ew, like I want your armpit sweat all over my face! Get off.” Hannah stomps on my bare foot with the heel of hers.

  A swearword shoots from my lips at the stinging pain that follows and I let her go. “You’re like a ferocious kitten, you know that?”

  “You’re like an obtuse orangutan,” she replies with sweetness.

  “Coming, Dickie?” I call over my shoulder without looking back, a smile lifting my lips at Hannah’s words. I think of the months to come when I won’t hear her voice and snarky comments every day and the smile falls from my face.

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” is his faint reply.

  The adventure park features the three waterslides of Jungle Rapids, Bumper Boats, and a go-kart track. A fence surrounds it with an opening to enter and pay. Jessie and Catherine are already through and on the other side, watching as we approach from where they’re seated on a bench. His dark coloring next to her pale attractiveness is striking, like night and day side by side.

  “You have the hots for her, don’t you?” Hannah’s voice is quiet, teasing, but there’s an edge to it I can’t miss.

  “Who, Catherine?” I try to sound innocent, but it is a dismal failure.

  Hannah trails her fingers along the side of the fence as we walk. “What do you see in her anyway?”

  I gesture toward the lean and lovely blonde. “Isn’t it obvious? Look at her. She’s beautiful.”

  “She has the personality of a hamster.”

  I scoff, “Come on, Hannah, do you actually even talk to any hamsters?”

  She laughs and tugs at my arm hair, the sensation close to hurting but not quite. “There are lots of pretty girls. Pretty girls aren’t necessarily the right girls.”

  “Who said anything about wanting the right girl? Maybe I just want the pretty one for now.”

  She halts her footsteps, glaring at me when I stop with her. “Figures. All men are pigs, and you’re no different. And you know what?”

  “What?” I taunt, putting my face close to hers. I can’t keep the grin off my face, not when she’s spitting mad, her skin lightly pink from the sun and annoyance with me. Hannah smells like the coconut suntan lotion she put on in the car, and the beer she drank. Bitter and sweet, that’s Hannah.

&nbs
p; “I hope you do something stupid and Jessie sees it. If you’re going to think with your dick instead of your head, you deserve whatever you get.” She storms off, past Jessie and Catherine and in the direction of the waterslides.

  I cup my hands and yell after her, “Thanks for your support!”

  “What the hell is her problem?” Jessie wonders.

  Dickie comes up from behind, his shoulder brushing mine as he pauses near me. “She’ll calm down.”

  “She won’t. Calm and Hannah usually don’t coexist,” I claim, frowning as I look at my friend. “You left your glasses on.”

  “I’m not going on the waterslides. I’ll do the go-karts and the Bumper Boats, but not the waterslides.” Dickie’s words are fast, sharp with panic.

  I clap him on the back and my hand comes away wet. I wipe it on my brown swim trunks. “Do what you got to do, my friend. I’m heading for the waterslides.”

  I wave to Catherine and Jessie as I stride past, following the path Hannah took. I slathered myself in the strongest sunscreen I could find, but I still feel the burn of the sun on my sensitive skin. I’m going to look like a lobster with green eyes by the end of the day.

  Hannah’s waiting for me by the haphazard pile of blue and green mats used to go down the waterslides. She doesn’t say anything as I grab a mat, and side by side, we begin the long trek up the walkway and steps to the slide. The line is long, bodies in various shapes and swimwear around us. It’ll probably take thirty minutes to get to the top, all to go on a two-minute ride. I grin at Hannah, and she smirks back. It’s totally worth it.

  “Forgive me?” I ask, lowering my face so that I am looking into her eyes.

  “You’re too stupid to stay angry at for long.” Hannah faces forward, a smile playing with her heart-shaped mouth, a twitch I want to smooth away with my finger.

  “I can always count on you to make me feel better.”

  We move forward four footsteps.

  “I’m not your friend to make you feel better. I’m your friend because someone has to look out for you and make sure you stay somewhat logical.” Hannah flutters her eyelashes at me. “Your brain tends to leave you much too often.”

  “I see. You’re my friend for my benefit then.” I nod thoughtfully as we move forward another few feet. “You get nothing out of it.”

  Hannah pats my chest and I look at where her skin meets my flesh, her hand small and dark against my whiteness. The touch burns me, and I determine the sun’s already had too much fun with my skin. It can’t be because of the feel of her hand on me, and it isn’t like I enjoy it, not at all. It’s the sun.

  She says, “Glad you’re understanding finally.”

  “I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss Dickie too, but I’m really going to miss you, more than anything,” I blurt out. My throat tightens at the confession.

  Hannah’s fingers spasm and fall away.

  I didn’t mean to say it. I don’t want our last summer together to turn into some sappy, sob-fest where we’re all depressed and miserable. I know I’ve told her before that I was going to miss her, but I was drunk and it didn’t technically count. I don’t know why I said it now. Maybe the sun is getting to my head. I just know that when Hannah goes, part of me will be absent.

  “We’re moving again.” She nods toward the gap from us to the people ahead of us.

  We’re almost to the top before she speaks again, her voice low and uneven with pent up emotion. “I asked you to come with me. There were plenty of colleges you could have applied to near where I’ll be. You chose to stay home. You chose easy.”

  I stare at my bare feet, the soles burning up from the sun-kissed wood plank on which we stand. “I did. I wanted easy, Hannah. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. Staying in Taylor Falls made the most sense.” I look up, and she catches my self-mocking smile. “You know I don’t like complications.”

  Hannah snorts. “Yeah. Because having a thing for Jessie’s girl isn’t complicated or anything.”

  Scratching the side of my neck, I shrug.

  “What makes her so much better than other girls—than me?” Hannah’s eyes are trained ahead as she asks the question.

  It’s our time to go, the three slides waiting, all in a row. I stand before one on the right, with Hannah in the middle, and an older guy on the left.

  I’m not sure what she’s asking me. Catherine isn’t better than Hannah. She’s different. She’s soft and light while Hannah is prickly and forceful. She’s new—I’ve known Hannah since I was a toddler. Hannah fits in with me and Catherine stands out.

  I turn to answer her and she’s gone, speeding down the slide with her hair straight out from her head. Her scream is full of laughter, and I chuckle.

  The lifeguard asks me if I’m going or not, and with a nod, I sit on the mat and push off, water flying over me as the mat and I go zipping along. It feels like my stomach is going to drop right out of me, or that I’m going to fly off the slide and that’ll be the end of me. Before I can take a breath in preparation, I’m hitting water hard and fast. It roars over me like an angry tidal wave.

  I go under, water shooting up my nose and into my mouth. I struggle for what seems like minutes but is only a few short seconds, and then I vault upright, choking and coughing, my chest searing as I inhale. I swipe water and hair back from my face as I discern where I am and where I need to go. A lifeguard stands at the edge of the pool, waving me over. I search for the mat, find it, and with it in hand, wade through the waist-deep water.

  Hannah waits for me, beaming. Water drips from her, leaving a puddle around her feet, and her springy hair is matted down, giving her the appearance of a drowned rat. “Wasn’t that the coolest?”

  “Holy shit!” Water weighs down my shorts, and I tug them back up over my hips, grinning broadly. “That was a riot!”

  “Want to go again?” Her eyes sparkle.

  “I totally want to go again,” I admit, high-fiving her as we turn back to the waterslides.

  * * *

  After spending most of the day at the park, we check into a motel—two rooms, one for the guys and one for the girls. Jessie complains loudly and incessantly over the sleeping arrangements, but when money is brought up to get a third room for him and Catherine, he shuts up. It isn’t like he won’t sneak into her room anyway.

  “If things get weird in your room tonight, you can sleep with me—well, or Dickie, but if I were you, I’d want to sleep with me,” I tell Hannah as we walk the six blocks to reach the Wisconsin Dells Strip. The Strip has various forms of entertainment, but all I’m interested in is going through the haunted house advertised on a pamphlet inside my room.

  She looks at me with squinted eyes. I’d blame the look on the setting sun, but I know better. “I think I’ll be fine, Sam, but thanks for your concern.”

  Hannah’s wardrobe doesn’t have much variation. She’s either in shorts or jeans. I think I’ve seen her wear a dress once—at our high school graduation—and she was not happy about it. She did look nice though, and I told her. She punched me in the arm for the compliment. The jeans she’s currently wearing are tight on her frame, and the brown V-neck tee shirt isn’t any looser. I’m amazed she can walk in the clothes.

  “I’m serious.” I turn my gaze from my friend and study Catherine’s upside-down heart-shaped derriere. The pink slacks she has on are perfectly formed to it, and the sight is heaven and hell combined. As I watch, Jessie’s hand drifts down her back and gives her rump an appreciative squeeze. I look away and shove my hands in the front pockets of my jeans.

  “Yeah, you look serious. Real worried about my welfare.” Hannah reaches behind her for Dickie’s hand, pulling him up in line with us. Her words are snappish, but her tone is kind as she says, “Dickie, has anyone told you that you’re the slowest walker ever?”

  Dickie huffs along beside Hannah, drops of moisture trailing down from his shaggy brown hair to his face and neck. “Sorry,” he gasps.

  He s
howered and loaded up on deodorant before putting on clean clothes, but his hygiene efforts were in vain. Poor guy is never going to get laid. I worry about him in New York. My eyes involuntarily drop to his groin. Although, maybe I shouldn’t. I quickly avert my eyes.

  The streets are packed with vehicles, the majority of which are most likely tourists. The sound of exhaust is loud and the smell of it is thick in the air. Restaurants and other businesses fill up the space on all sides from where we are. We cross the street, a car honking when we take too long. Jessie gives the driver the middle finger and the honking starts up again, the horn loud and angry. He laughs, jumping over the curb and landing gracefully on the sidewalk.

  We get burgers from a food stand, walking the length of the Strip as we eat. Scents of sweets from the fudge shops tickle my senses, mix with various perfumes of those around us and fried food as it wafts over from nearby restaurants. Every other store is a clothing or souvenir shop. A young guy performs card tricks to a small crowd, sweat covering his face as he talks, and music overlaps conversation.

  I look across the street and find the haunted house. Swallowing the last of the burger, I crumple the wrapper and toss it in a nearby wastebasket.

  “That’s where I’m going.” I nod to the black building with two corpse-like dummies set up against it. They are clothed in black tuxedos with white wisps of hair sticking up from balding heads, their eyeless faces twisted in grotesque expressions.

  “Oh, do we have to?” Catherine asks in her small voice, looking from Jessie to me. “I don’t like scary stuff. I have nightmares.”

  I squint my eyes at her much like Hannah recently did to me. She’s sort of been a drag since we got here. Dickie at least did the go-karts and bumper boats. Catherine refused to go on anything at the waterpark, instead sunbathing herself on a reclining chair for the afternoon. My eyes flick over her faintly bronzed skin. She does look good with the slight tan, I think, my irritation fading away as appreciation takes over.

 

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