by Lindy Zart
“It’ll be fun,” I coax, patting her fine-boned shoulder, left uncovered by the light blue strapless tube top she has on.
“I’ll protect you, Cat.” Jessie wraps his arms around her, effectively moving her out of touching distance of me, and noisily plants multiple kisses on the side of her neck, making her giggle.
“I can…” Dickie swallows and scuffs the toe of his tennis shoe against the cement. “I can stay out here with you, if you like. I, uh, brought a book to read anyway.” He looks up, meeting Catherine’s gaze for an instant before he drops it.
“Thank you, Dickie, that’s sweet of you.” Catherine moves from Jessie’s grasp.
“You brought a book? Dickie, this is our vacation. You’re not supposed to read while on vacation,” I tell him, pausing as I rethink my words. That didn’t come out right.
“To some people, reading is a form of vacation,” Hannah replies, lifting her chin. “Who are you, the vacation police?”
“No, I’m just the guy who says stupid things and doesn’t realize it until after he’s already said the stupid things.” It’s a small apology, lacking elegance, but the ghost of a smile on Hannah’s olive-toned face says it’s acceptable. The sun catches her wild hair, picking out strands of red fire, something I never noticed before.
“Stare a little harder and I’ll think you like me,” she whispers low enough that only my ears catch it.
I laugh it off, but my stomach feels weird, jumbled up and twisted. “I do like you.” I bump my arm to hers.
“Yeah, that’s so sweet, how much you two like each other.” Jessie bounces on the balls of his feet, clapping his hands. “Are we doing this or what? I got plans for after dark, and by the time we go through this thing, it’s going to be close to it.”
“What kind of plans?” Hannah asks, rubbing her arms as if cold.
He aims his brown eyes at her and lets them smolder. I’m not sure how Hannah has managed to be the only girl to ever remain immune to Jessie’s charms. When he wants to be, he can be persuasive. “The best kind of plans.”
“Because that was so specific.” Hannah shakes her head and walks to the curb, pausing to glance over her shoulder before crossing the street. “See you at the haunted house—or not.”
I jog to catch up to her, leaving the others in the dust without another thought. Hannah grins like she was expecting me. Jessie appears on my other side, shrugging when I raise my eyebrows in question. A glance over my shoulder shows Dickie and Catherine sitting on opposite ends of a bench with their backs to us. Catherine appears to be talking to him, but it’s hard to determine if he’s actually talking back or not.
Jessie points a finger at the dummy closest to him and tells it, “You’re going down. This haunted house ain’t got nothing on me.” He widens his legs and flexes his arm muscles at it, a threatening look on his wide features.
“Give it a rest. No one here is impressed by your girth.”
“Girth?” Jessie straightens and gives Hannah a look. “Have you ever actually looked at me? There is no fat to be found on this lean physique.”
“Girth doesn’t mean fat, necessarily,” she replies, walking up to the ticket booth to pay. “It references your size, is all.”
“In that case, my lower region has a lot of girth.” Jessie makes the shape of a box around his crotch, laughing when Hannah’s upper lip curls in revulsion.
“But not as much as Dickie’s,” I state, shoving Jessie back when he pushes me.
Jessie turns to Hannah as he pays, pocketing his ticket. “Hannah, how does it feel knowing you gave Dickie a boner?”
Her nose scrunches up. “I refuse to comment on that. But you should be worried, leaving Catherine outside with him.”
“Brave person that I am, I’ll go first. You two Sallies can follow and watch how a pro does it.” He swaggers ahead of us, turning back to announce, “And I’m not worried.”
I give the middle-aged lady at the booth my money and tell her thank you when she hands me the change. A fake smile is plastered to her red lips and she nods, already looking to the next patron.
“I didn’t say he would be smart enough to be worried, just that he should be,” Hannah mutters to me, keeping close as we step through black curtains and into darkness. “Girls will only let looks override heart for so long—I’m guessing even for someone superficial like Catherine.”
“I don’t think she’s superficial.”
“Yeah, well, no one ever said you were an Einstein.”
“There you go, lifting me up again.”
As we weave our way through tight corridors and rooms with low ceilings, Hannah inches closer, the fingers of one hand locked around mine. She squeezes my hand like I am her lifeline, and she knows she’s safe with me. There is no real danger, and yet, I like that she comes to me for protection. Thick fog rises up from the floor, making it impossible to see where we’re going. There’s a faint sulfur scent to it, overlapped by dust and mustiness.
Around the first corner, a wolf man jumps out at Hannah and she screams, wadding a fist around my tee shirt. I laugh and loosen her grip, more afraid of her ripping my shirt than anything in here. It’s my black Lynyrd Skynyrd one.
“Wimps,” Jessie shouts back at us, a shadowy figure I catch a glimpse of from time to time.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she hisses, sounding more scared than angry.
“I’m not,” I lie.
A sinister moan floats over us, and she squeaks next to me. Something rustles on the other side of the curtained divider to my right. Hannah moves from my side to behind me, her face pressed between my shoulder blades and both hands gripping the waist of my jeans. Her fingers graze the flesh of my torso every so often, shooting sensations through me and making my pulse go haywire.
Our two-person train weaves a trail through the haunted house, the highlight of the experience being when we cross a bridge of some kind that rattles, and a clown with a knife appears from behind us. Hannah thrusts me out of the way and sprints toward the exit like I’ve only seen her run in competitions. Too busy laughing to pay attention to what’s going on behind me, I jump when I’m tapped on the shoulder, hurrying my pace to get to the door leading outside. I don’t look behind me to see who, or what, touched me, I just go.
The sky is obscured by clouds, the vicinity lit up from the streetlamps on the sidewalks full of bars, restaurants, and stores. It seems busier now than it was when we first got here. The air is humid and thick, promising rain or storms, maybe both. It isn’t fully dark out yet, but it will be soon.
“Did you see Hannah run?” Jessie asks Catherine and Dickie, who are standing beside one another. He laughs and looks at Hannah as we approach.
“I didn’t run.” Hannah looks at me for confirmation. “I walked really fast.”
“You ran, Hannah-Banana.” I gently tug a lock of her hair.
She scrunches up her nose at the childhood nickname, but her eyes twinkle, and it’s like looking at a younger, smaller Hannah. Hannah of the past, my best friend, the one surety I had, and the only one I needed.
“You haven’t called me that in years. It’s kind of nice to hear.” Hannah points a finger at my nose. “But don’t call me it again.”
I wrap my fingers around hers and squeeze them before releasing her hand. “You got it.”
“Here, Dickie, you can have the last of the fudge.” Catherine offers a small box to Dickie, and red-faced, he accepts it with a stuttering thank you.
“You guys are sharing fudge now?” Jessie demands, eyeing a brunette as she walks by with three friends.
“It…we…” Dickie swallows. “We just…we wanted to try some.”
“I bet you did,” Jessie answers. “Was it good?”
Dickie shrugs, his blue eyes looking everywhere but at Jessie.
“It’s not a big deal,” Catherine says with lowered eyes.
“I know. I just wanted to see Dickie blush. It’s adorable,” he heckles, messing up Dickie’s hai
r as he walks by. “You guys ready to split?”
“I am, yes. All that sun made me tired.” Catherine yawns prettily.
“The sun can do that,” Dickie agrees, pitching forward when Catherine gives him a smile.
Jessie jogs alongside Hannah, who looks straight ahead like he isn’t there. “Hey. Hannah. Hannah. Hannah.”
“What do you want?” she snaps without looking in his direction.
“Remember that time you were nice to me?”
“No.”
“Me either.” Jessie laughs and slows down for Catherine.
When we reach the yellow and white-colored motel, Jessie enters the girls’ room after Catherine, and with a wide grin, shuts the door in Hannah’s face.
She stares at the door. “All I have to say is that if they do it on my bed, Jessie’s balls are going to go missing.” Hannah looks from Dickie to me. “I need a beer. Or ten.”
Dickie and I exchange a grin.
I lift my head from the hard and lumpy ground and finish off my third beer. “Tell me what your life is like, five years from now. Dickie, you go first.”
The three of us are camped out on a patch of grass near the parking lot of the motel, lying on our backs behind the parked Renault. Hannah lies in the middle, dwarfed by the two of us. The scent of rain and grass fills my nostrils, the steady flow of distant traffic pricking the quiet. A low rumble of thunder sounds, the sky a dark shade of gray. It’s gone from humid to really humid, my clothes uncomfortably sticking to my skin.
“I’ll be working with computers,” Dickie says.
I wait, but when he doesn’t expand on his answer, I sit up, looking at my bespectacled friend. “That’s it? You’ll be working with computers? What about money, women, vacations—you know, the good stuff?”
Dickie removes his glasses and reclines on his elbows, his voice deepening with passion as he says, “That’s all I want to do. Invent them, build them, program them. Computers are going to take over the world one day.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoff.
“It’s true,” he insists, putting on his glasses and straightening them before lying back down. “They can already do more than anyone thought possible, and that will only expand as technology does.”
“You sound like a mad scientist,” Hannah says, smiling up at the approaching storm. Warm breezes flit over us, playing with her hair. A lock sweeps across my forearm, briefly sticking to my damp flesh.
I look down at Hannah, an unrecognizable urge to hold her taking over. I blink in consternation at my wayward thoughts. “What about you, Hannah? Where do you see your life in five years?”
My voice is rough, and she shivers as she turns her gaze to mine, as if the timbre of my tone did something to her.
What if she’s in another state, or another country? What if she’s married with kids? What if we aren’t friends anymore? What if the only time I see her is at some stupid high school reunion and all we do is say hi to one another, and even that is awkward?
Pain clenches my abdomen. The swirling clouds overhead are reflected in her eyes, and I get dizzy looking into them. I only had three beers, but it feels like I had a dozen.
“What, you assholes started the party without us?” Jessie shoves his way between me and Hannah, halting her response and breaking the hold of our eyes.
Catherine situates herself near our feet, her lips swollen from being kissed. She wraps her arms around her knees and props her chin on them, looking small and lost. I silently hand her a beer and she smiles in thanks. She changed from her tube top and slacks to short shorts and a tight white top. Her feet are bare, showing off pink-painted toenails.
“Didn’t you leave us to have your own party?” Hannah lifts an eyebrow and moves closer to Dickie and farther away from Jessie.
Jessie offers a secret smile and takes the beer I got out of my hand. I get another.
“I was asking everyone what they want their life to be like in five years,” I tell Jessie, glancing at Catherine to make it clear she is being addressed too. “Anything you want to share with us about that?”
“That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” Jessie empties the beer and crushes the can in his fist before tossing it over his shoulder. It clacks as it hits pavement. He takes my new can of beer and drinks that too.
“You would say that,” Hannah mutters.
“How about this? I hope to still have all of my hair and not have a gut so big I can’t see my dick when I look down.”
“Way to aim high,” Hannah says, taking a drink from her can of beer.
“I want to be married, with a baby on the way,” Catherine says in her childlike voice, a serene glaze over her eyes. “I love children, and I hope to have a house full of them. Laughing, playing, happy children.”
Jessie stares at her, horror widening his eyes.
“It’s just…a dream. It’ll probably never happen.” She ducks her head, playing with the hem of her shirt.
“Let’s hope not,” her boyfriend mumbles, shuddering.
I open my mouth to say something to make her feel better, but surprisingly, Dickie beats me to it. He speaks reverently, passionately. “I think it sounds lovely, Catherine, and you should have that, if that’s your dream. You should have all of your dreams.”
Catherine looks up, a wide smile bringing light and joy to her face and eyes. It’s a beautiful smile, and it’s aimed at Dickie. “Thank you.”
Jessie is unusually quiet as he studies Dickie, and then Catherine. He turns to me. “How about we liven things up with a game of Truth of Dare. Sam, do you want to go with the truth, or take a dare?”
The gleam in his dark eyes tells me whatever I choose, I won’t like it.
I press my lips together, my pulse quickening. “Truth.” I wince, instantly regretting my decision.
Jessie blinks and sits back like he wasn’t expecting that. “Okay. Answer truthfully. Do you think Hannah is a virgin?”
Hannah’s head jerks and she reaches over to shove Jessie. “What the hell kind of a question is that?”
His head thumps against the side of the Renault. Jessie straightens and rubs the back of his head. “Whoa. Calm down. Your reaction makes me think maybe the answer is no.”
Hannah fists her hands and seethes. “I hate you.”
Jessie clenches his jaw, but otherwise there is no evidence that her words affect him. “Sam? Answer the question.”
It isn’t any of my business, but I always thought, deep down, that she was. I don’t know why. I guess the thought of Hannah being intimate with anyone makes me queasy. It feels wrong, like it felt wrong for me to mess around with Elizabeth Jones.
I look at my white hands splayed against the dark, and I shake my head. “No. I don’t think she is.”
Admitting it makes it real, and when my eyes clash with Hannah’s, I see the pain and regret in hers. I want to tell her it is okay, but the words won’t come. The scene grows somber, and I’m about to call it a night when Dickie’s turn comes up.
He pats my thigh and nods when I look at him. His eyes are kind. “I dare you to kiss Hannah.”
I spit out the beer in my mouth from my newest can and Hannah complains as it hits her neck. “What?” I choke, my throat burning from trying to swallow when I shouldn’t.
Jessie shoots to his feet. “Really, Dickie? That’s the best you could come up with?”
Dickie sits, calm and quiet. “Yes. That’s the best I could come up with,” he answers after a pause.
“I’m not—no,” I sputter, moving to lengthen the distance between me and my friends, and putting the most between me and Hannah. “We can’t—we’re just—no. That would be weird.”
“Weird? How about just plain wrong and disgusting,” Jessie intercepts in a heated voice, and I frown at him. Why does he care whether or not Hannah and I kiss?
“Jessie, why don’t you stay out of it?” Hannah snaps, her eyes sizzling.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yo
u’d like for me to just be quiet, and pretend, like you,” Jessie tosses back.
“I am not pretending anything.” If someone could be incinerated by tone alone, Jessie would be ashes.
“You did, though, didn’t you?”
What the hell are they talking about? My eyes go to Jessie as he focuses on Hannah in a way that makes my blood sing and my mouth fill with bitterness. The look is intimate, familiar, and not one Jessie should be giving Hannah. It makes me want to kiss her more, if only to wipe away that look from his face. Possessiveness shoots through me, startling and undeniable. I feel like he’s looking at something of mine in a way he shouldn’t. It’s because we’re friends, and I want to protect her, that’s all. I don’t want her hurt by Jessie.
“Stop it. Stop it now,” Dickie tells the pair, a line of worry pinching his eyebrows.
I refuse to look at Hannah, and I’m not sure why. I tell myself it’s because she might be okay with kissing me, but really, it’s because she might not. She’s my friend, who’s a girl. I don’t kiss friends who are girls. I should be repulsed by the thought, but I’m not. I glance up to find her studying me. Hannah doesn’t look upset by the request, and it makes heat wash over me.
“It’s okay, Sam. Let’s just do it quick and get it over with.”
I look around us, take in the dark look on Jessie’s face. He won’t look at me, his gaze locked on the back of Hannah’s head. Catherine shifts uneasily, her gaze trained on the grass beneath her. Dickie shrugs and holds up his hands, wordlessly telling me it’s up to me and Hannah, but there is a glimmer of encouragement in his expression. I wonder at that.
A change is happening, a shift in the air, and when I reach for Hannah at the same time she turns to me, it strikes out against my flesh like hot, dazzling lightning. Her lips are electricity, sending sparks through me. The kiss is hesitant at first, and then slowly consuming. She tastes like fire and life.
I slant my mouth on hers and deepen the kiss, my hands fisted at my sides. I want to touch her, but I won’t allow it. When a small moan leaves her, I release her mouth and sit back. My body is hot and cold and shudders run through the length of me. Her eyes are dazed as they meet mine, her lips parted still. Hannah touches her mouth as if unsure of what happened. I kissed her. We kissed. Me and Hannah. I inhaled raggedly. I kissed my best friend.