by Teegan Loy
“Oh my god,” Dylan groaned. “You’re brilliant.”
I finished myself off as he recovered. He tossed a rag at me and we cleaned up again before we finally fell back into bed.
“Do you feel guilty?” Dylan asked.
“Do you?”
“I thought I would, but no, I don’t.”
“I’m glad.”
“Thank you,” he whispered as I fell asleep.
I jolted awake when I heard Agnes barking. Dylan was curled against my side, snoring softly, so I carefully rolled out of bed and peeked out the window. Mrs. Jorgenson was chasing after Agnes with the leash in one hand and the flashlight in the other.
I stifled a laugh, but the noise disturbed Dylan. I quickly covered him with the blanket and he rolled over, snuggling into the warmth I’d left behind. I couldn’t resist running my fingers through his hair. If anything, our relationship had made me realize I deserved more than one-night stands. And so did he. I rubbed my nose, itched my junk, and then dug around for my phone so I could call Stef.
“What’s going on?” she shouted into the phone. “And why am I looking at your face?”
“Are you drinking?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m well on my way to a fantastic buzz, so talk fast.”
I relayed the story of hooking up with Dylan, and when Stef sighed into the phone, I shouted at her. “It’s not romantic or anything. I don’t know what to do?”
“Still cute.” She wrapped her lips around her beer bottle and took a swig.
“Huh.” I stared at her lips, shiny from the beer, and imagined her taking a giant dick in her mouth. “Are you really good at giving head?”
“Kellen,” she shrieked. “What the hell has gotten into you? I’m trying to unwind from a week of work hell and you’re asking me about blowjobs. Either tell me why you called or I will hang up.”
“What?” I threw my hand in the air. “You have nice plump lips, and the way you wrapped them around that bottle, I just thought . . . never mind.”
“Are you sure you’re gay?”
“Er, yes.”
“So, what are you going to do? I know Dylan is leaving.”
“We’ll stay friends. This isn’t going to impact anything.”
We talked for a few more minutes before I was yawning so much, I couldn’t form words, and she wanted to get back to her party.
I crawled back into bed and fell asleep, thinking about Jamie. The next time I woke, I was alone. I rolled over and considered going back to sleep, but I heard the door creak open.
“You planning on sleeping all day? It’s almost noon.” Jamie walked inside, sat down on the end of the bed, and sniffed the air. “It smells like coconut and sex in here.”
“Jeesh, what has you all bitchy?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
I rubbed my eyes. “What’s going on, Jamie?”
“Harry and I were hanging out, and Dylan insisted he needed to talk to Harry. He looked slightly crazy, so they’re talking right now.” Jamie walked over to the window and tilted his head. “Wow.”
“What?” I asked.
“They’re not talking anymore.”
I jumped out of bed, raced to the window, and stared down at the dock where Dylan was basically devouring Harry’s mouth and trying to crawl into his lap.
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “About time. Dylan’s in love with him.”
Jamie wrinkled his nose and sneered. “Good for them.”
His reaction stunned me for a few seconds. “Did you like Harry? Like really like him?”
He shrugged. “Did you get enough likes in there? Of course, I like him. He’s a nice guy, and ya know— satisfying.”
“Satisfying? That’s what he was to you?” My anger was rising and set my cheeks on fire.
“Lose the attitude, Kellen? You have no right to judge me. Dylan left you high and dry, and I don’t see you breaking down. Besides, I don’t need love to fuck up my life. It’s too complicated.”
My stomach dropped, and I thought about arguing with him about the importance of love, but instead, I agreed with his statement. “Being in love does totally suck.”
Jamie leveled a glare that almost knocked me over. “Are you in love with Dylan?”
“Um, no.”
A voice that sounded suspiciously like Mrs. Jorgenson, shouted in my head that now would be the perfect opportunity to say something, but I bit my tongue and kept quiet.
He frowned and grabbed for the doorknob. I leaped across the room and pushed him into the wall.
“What the hell, Kellen?”
“Let’s give them some time. Dylan deserves to be happy.”
He huffed and moved back to the window, peering out again. “Fine. I don’t understand you at all.”
We stayed in Peyton Place close to an hour. Jamie paced like a caged cat, and I turned into a jealous pervert, watching Dylan kiss Harry. The jealousy didn’t come because I wanted to be kissing Dylan; I was jealous because Dylan found the balls to tell Harry he wanted him, and Harry seemed to want him too.
I rested my forehead against the window and contemplated my next move. Only there didn’t seem to be a move to be made.
“Am I allowed to leave now?” Jamie grumbled.
“Yeah, sure.”
Jamie tried to shut the door in my face, but I grunted and grabbed his arm. We bumped shoulders and pushed each other, trying to get to the bottom of the stairs first. I caught Dylan’s attention and waved. He acknowledged me with a huge smile. I watched him clasp Harry’s hand as they walked up the hill toward the house.
Jamie glared at me before he bolted, barreling past Dylan and Harry without saying a word. I immediately called Stef and filled her in on the latest episode of Peyton Place.
“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to Jamie when you were in the room. You should’ve just tackled him on the bed and kissed the hell out of him.”
“He probably would’ve punched me in the face.”
“I really don’t know what you want me to say to you anymore. I’ll be at the lake in a couple of days, and we can commiserate at the bar.”
6
Lost Loves
Dylan and Harry left that afternoon, which meant I now had a ton of free time on my hands. I was genuinely happy for Dylan but I was going to miss him. Harry and Dylan had been my excuse to not face my true feelings.
For a few moments, I stood on the dock, listening to the roar of boats and peals of laughter coming from the lake. This summer was supposed to be about fun before I stepped into the world of adulthood. Maybe this was really my indoctrination into the real world where things weren’t easy and fun was sometimes a forgotten word.
The last thing I needed was to sit here brooding, so I went in search of Mrs. Jorgenson, only to find an empty cabin.
With no one around to entertain me, I took the boat out and let the wind filter through my hair and my mind drift like the waves. When I got back to the cabin, I found a note from Jamie telling me he was going to some party on the other side of the lake and not to wait up for him.
My mind helpfully supplied me with images of him with countless beautiful people while I sat alone on the porch surrounded by Mrs. Jorgenson and her friends. If I was totally honest, I’d be happy to have Mrs. Jorgenson sitting beside me right now.
After enduring several mosquito attacks, I went to bed around three in the morning where my dreams continued the torture.
Jamie was gone for two days, and when he returned, he wasn’t alone. He’d replaced Harry with some fucking nineteen-year-old man-child named Leaf, of all things.
Thank goodness Leaf only lasted the weekend. The guy was all-hands, all the time, and it drove me nuts. Jamie asked me if I was getting a sore throat because whenever Leaf was around, I had a habit of growling. Mrs. Jorgenson and Mrs. Benson threatened to do an intervention. They didn’t like the way the veins in my neck pulsed whenever they mentioned Leaf by name.
When Leaf disappeared, Mrs. Jorgenson actually questioned me to make sure I hadn’t gone through with any murder plans. It would’ve been easy to anchor his body to the bottom of the lake. But with my luck, he’d come back as Jason from Friday the 13th, jumping out of the water to drown me or stab me in the crotch.
Mrs. Jorgenson scolded me. “I have no desire to come visit you in prison. You wouldn’t last more than a week.”
“But you would come see me?”
“I have nothing better to do,” she said. “Barbie thought we could combine the prison visits with a day of shopping.”
“Well, I appreciate it, but I didn’t kill Leaf. He had to go back to work.”
“Has he been replaced yet?”
“I don’t think so. Last time I saw Jamie, he was heading down to the dock with his phone and a towel. But knowing him, someone will probably come parasailing in and he’ll sweep them off their feet.”
She filled my plate with a large pile of macaroni salad and several freshly baked buns. “I think I’ve made this suggestion about a thousand times, but have you thought about talking to him?”
“I said hello this morning.” I split a bun in half and spread butter on it.
“Not what I meant. You sound bitter.”
“I think about talking to him all the time. I was honestly going to tell him, but when Dylan and Harry got together, we had a fight. He doesn’t believe in love. He said it complicates everything. To be honest, I don’t think I’d survive if I only had one night with him. Having him as a friend is better.”
“Eat your food. This conversation is depressing me,” she said.
“Thanks for feeding me.”
“You should learn to cook.”
“I know how to cook, I just don’t enjoy it.”
She snorted. “Opening a couple of cans and a box is not cooking.”
For the rest of the meal, she threatened me with cooking lessons. She finally ordered me to clear the table and help her with the dishes. When we finished, Agnes barked and nudged me with her head, her wet nose touching my skin.
“She wants to go for a walk. Do you think you can keep up with us?” Mrs. Jorgenson asked.
I hooked Agnes to her leash while Mrs. Jorgenson grabbed her hat, a light jacket, and doused me with bug spray. Agnes led the way, sniffing everything and continuously wagging her tail.
While we walked, Mrs. Jorgenson talked. “Remember when I told you the story of the boy who got away?”
“Yes.”
“I think I should tell it to you again. I’ll give you a few more details this time.”
I shrugged because I didn’t know if I really wanted to hear the depressing tale again. “Okay, fire away.”
“I loved him.”
“I figured that out,” I said.
“I slept with him. More than once. I was brought up in a house that favored not discussing sex. It was always implied that sex was something that didn’t happen until after the wedding day.”
“Er, are you asking if I’m a virgin?”
“Heavens, no.” She laughed. “It’s part of my story. Before Julian, people would’ve described me as a good girl, but when we broke up and Julian left, I was devastated and rebelled.”
She stopped and leaned against a tree. I took the leash from her and Agnes trotted over to us to sit against me while I scratched her ears.
“God damn it to hell, after all these years, you’d think I could tell the story proper without getting all emotional.”
She was quiet for a moment, staring across the lake. Agnes tugged on the leash, so Mrs. Jorgenson started walking again. I followed, sticking close to her and Agnes.
We walked down the road and stopped in front of the Maple Lake Pavilion, now used for weddings, dances, and family gatherings among other things. There were flyers plastered on the doors about an upcoming party for the community to celebrate seventy-five years of events.
“Years ago, this was a roller skating rink. One evening I met a dark-haired guy with the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. He skated with me the entire evening. I thought he was just visiting the lake, but it turned out he’d taken a job here. His mom and dad worked in town. We started hanging out and I fell hard.” She sat down on a bench and sighed. “My parents disapproved of our relationship, but the lake season was winding down and soon we’d go back in the city. They tolerated us for a few weeks, but when I returned to school, they discovered Julian had followed me. I was delighted; my parents were not. Eventually they drove him away.
“When Julian left, I lost some of my fight, but like I told you before, I did try to find him. When I was unsuccessful, I ran away. I didn’t run far. I came back up here to hide at the lake and stay with my Aunt Bess. This is also where I met Ray. He was a decent guy, and we married the day I turned eighteen.”
“I thought you met him at a concert.”
“I did. There was a band playing here at the pavilion. Ray was really smooth on roller skates.”
She sniffled again, so I put my arm around her thin shoulders. “Mrs. Jorgenson, you don’t have to talk about this.”
“I’m fine. The whole thing was a silly mess. At first, I thought about blaming the pregnancy on Ray, but I was already starting to show. It was simple math really, and I couldn’t lie to him.”
“Jesus, you were pregnant?”
“Yes. My parents freaked out. Said all sorts of things like I was a disgrace to the family and trash. Nice girls didn’t sleep with boys before marriage. Ray stepped up and they treated him like shit too, but finally, to save face, they allowed us to get married. They didn’t want a bastard grandchild. I was quite the disappointment. Ray always treated Julia like she was his biological daughter. I felt guilty because I still loved Julian, and whenever we’d visit a new city, I’d sneak away and page through the phone book, hoping to see a Julian Leonard.”
“Did you ever find him?”
She shook her head. “I found plenty of Julian Leonards listed. I even wrote down all the numbers and addresses, but I never called or wrote to any of them. It sounds really weird now, but I was utterly destroyed.”
I squeezed her shoulder.
“It was so much easier to disappear back then. No cell phones or internet.”
“Does Julia know this story?”
“She knows she’s not Ray’s biological daughter. She’s asked a few questions, but she’s never pressed me for specific details. Ray was her dad, but I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time to tell her more about my life. She’s a doctor now with a family of her own. I know you probably think all this is silly, but I see the way you look at Jamie. And I just think you’re going to regret it if you never tell him.”
“Are you trying to guilt me into doing it?”
“Yes. Is it working?”
“I don’t know?”
“I heard from Dylan. He’s happy but worried about you.”
“Dylan?”
“Yes, he texted me.”
“You text?”
“Of course, dear, don’t you?”
She laughed, stood, and started to walk again. We peeked in the window of the pavilion and she sighed as she read the flyer. “I’d heard rumors about this celebration. I guess it’s really going to happen.” For a few minutes, she peered into the darkness, lost in her thoughts and so far away from today that I didn’t know if she’d come back to reality. She turned the doorknob, and to our surprise, it opened.
She sighed. “Barbie told me Josie Boyer, the librarian in town, is in charge of tracking people down and sending out the invitations.”
“Is Julian on the list?”
“I don’t know. I’m too scared to ask.”
“How about if you be my date?”
“Are you crazy? You should be asking Jamie.”
I offered her my arm and we stepped inside the building.
“I haven’t been inside here for years. I’ve been invited to plenty of events, but I always refused to go inside. It’s a li
ttle strange listening to a concert while sitting out in the parking lot. Once, I went to a wedding and didn’t see anything until the bride and groom came outside to get into their car.”
“That’s a little weird,” I said. “Oh look, photos.”
She stiffened and dropped her hands to her sides. “Give me a second,” she said.
I left her standing in the middle of the room so I could get a closer look at the photos on the wall and she could collect her thoughts.
The photos were of staff from years ago. I was just about to comment on the hairdos from the 80s when I heard her gasp. She slowly reached out her hand and touched the glass of one of the pictures.
“Carrie?”
“It’s him.”
Agnes dropped at her feet and huffed while I went to stand behind her.
“This is Julian.”
I peered at the photo of a very handsome young guy and cleared my throat.
“You can say it— He was damn hot.”
“Yes, he is. Are you okay?”
“I think so. It’s nice to tell someone he existed. I see him in Julia, but I try not to dwell on it. It makes me crazy.” She smiled and leaned against me. “Let’s get out of here. The past is the past.”
“That’s really deep.”
“Isn’t it though?” She sighed and I could tell she was caught in a memory from years ago.
We walked in silence, enjoying the setting sun, the wind in our hair, and the sounds of nature.
“I feel like a broken record, but you should really consider telling Jamie.”
“Telling Jamie what?” Jamie said.
Both Mrs. Jorgenson and I jumped.
“Dylan and Harry say hello. Dylan’s been texting me.” The white lie from Mrs. Jorgenson came so smoothly, I almost forgot we hadn’t been talking about Dylan.
“And I just asked Mrs. Jorgenson to be my date at the pavilion party,” I added.
“I just spilled my guts to you. I think you should call me Carrie from now on.”