by Julie Solano
Me:
Are you thinking about coming to town?
Pistol:
I’m already waiting outside your window ;)!
DARN HIM! Everything’s always on his terms. It’s not a choice of whether I see him. He’s already made the decision for me. I have to let him in. What can I do? Think, think . . . Oh, Mrs. Doubtfire moment! I remember the scene from the Mrs. Doubtfire movie when Robin Williams covers his face in a mask and throws on a robe to disguise himself as an old woman. Since I’m already wearing the robe, I run down the hall to grab some leftover cucumbers from tonight’s dinner salad. As I run to the kitchen to grab the veggies, I shoot Pistol a quick return text.
Me:
Give me just a sec. I’m getting dressed.
Pistol:
No need for that Babydoll. I’ve been dying to see you with your clothes off. Just let me in already.
I run back to the bathroom and fumble through my supply drawer. Luckily, I find my green gel mask and wrap the band behind my head, securing it in place. I grab the two cucumber slices I plucked from a plate in the sink, stick them onto the goo surrounding my eyes, and fumble my way to the door.
“Hellooooooo. . .” I open the door and greet Pistol, just like Mrs. Doubtfire did in the movie.
“Well hello Mrs. Doubtfire.” Pistol takes my hands and pulls them out from my sides. “You’re looking AWFUL . . . ‘ly’ good tonight,” he corrects his small falter, and drops my arms back down. Though I can’t see a thing, I can feel his movement, and sense him looking me up and down. “So what’s up with your new look? This is not what I was expecting when I decided to stop by to see you. Do you even have eyes behind those cucumbers?” I hear him chuckle as he taps at my eye cover. I dodge to the left, keeping him from knocking off the small round barrier that separates him from the truth. “Go fix yourself up! I was thinking we could grab an ice cream, but there’s no way I’m going anywhere with you looking like Yoda from Star Wars!”
“I was kinda thinking about kickin’ it at home tonight,” I fumble for a spur-of-the-moment excuse so I don’t have to go through with the ‘Big Reveal.’ Think, think, “My skin is pretty messed up from all . . . the chlorine and I was working on a new moisturizing regimen.”
“Well I’m sure you have enough of that gooey stuff left over to try it out tomorrow night.” Pistol is relentless in his insistence that I get ready. “Kaitlyn, we haven’t seen each other for three days. I’m only here for one night. We have school all week and you know I don’t have any extra time to give you.”
I feel Pistol’s warm, over-sized hands wrap around me. He begins running them up and down my legs and thighs, up my back and around the front toward my stomach. I can feel him trying to find his way under my shirt, so I slide my hands over his and slyly curl our fingers together, adding some resistance to stop his movement. The slithering and groping from every direction reminds me of an octopus, but I don’t say anything. I can tell I’m already upsetting him with my lack of cooperation in the “getting ready” department, and I don’t want to add to his frustration.
“Babydoll, I really need to do something with you tonight. I can’t handle being away from you this long. I missed you. Now take off that hideous mask and get yourself presentable.”
“Okay, let’s make a deal . . .” I joke. “Would you like to see what’s behind door number one?” I slightly hinge the cucumber away from my left eye and set it right back down, “or door number two?” I repeat the gesture on my right eye.
“I choose door number three.” Before I have a chance to react, Pistol pulls the mask right off my face. The cucumbers drop to the floor, leaving my face completely exposed. His mouth drops in disbelief. “Aw hell Kaitlyn! What happened to you?” He pushes the mask back over my face. “Ummm . . . Let’s not make this deal tonight,” he chokes out. “Okay, I get it. I’m not taking you anywhere looking like that. What is on your face? Cuz it sure doesn’t look like chlorine burn.”
“Ok,” I fess up. I drop my head, and focus on his boots rather than looking him in the eye. I take a deep breath and let it out. “The other night, we had a bonfire and Jenna kinda used a little poison oak to keep the fire burning. She didn’t know what it was, and I obviously wasn’t paying attention to what she was using. I guess that stuff can make its way through your system when you inhale it. We both have it pretty bad.”
“So what? You and Jenna had a bonfire alone? That sounds a little out of the ordinary for you two girls. Don’t you usually spend your weekends driving up to Oregon to shop at the mall?” Pistol pauses in contemplation.
The uncomfortable silence pries my eyes from his boots and forces me to drag them up to meet his eyes. I can read the look on his face. It’s telling me he knows there’s more to this story. He huffs out a quick breath, “Bonfire’s are more of a country thing . . . a guy thing Kaitlyn! Where were you, and who were you with?” belligerence begins to overshadow his formerly tolerant tone.
His aggression brings out my defensive side, and I decide now is the time to bring up the image that’s been burning at the back of my mind. “Why does it matter? You were having plenty of your own fun out in Hat Creek,” I hiss back.
“What are you talking about? I was at a rodeo; exactly where I told you I’d be. You, on the other hand, never said you were going anywhere! Where were you, Kaitlyn?”
Pistol grabs my arm, “Answer me!”
“Loosen your grip Pistol. I already have bruises from your minor assault in front of the pool on Friday. People are going to start getting a little suspicious if you don’t stop doing that.” He doesn’t let go.
“Fine,” I respond. “I’ll tell you where I was as soon as you explain THIS to me!” I raise my voice, grab my phone from my robe pocket, and shove it right up to his face, revealing the cowgirl picture.
He slowly releases his grip on my arm and chuckles a bit. He shakes his head for a second and pulls his hand up to his chin, curling his fingers around his jaw. “Who sent you that? You got spies out on me? I thought you trusted me more than that.” He pulls his hand away from his jaw and tilts his head back. Shaking his head and pinching his nose he mumbles, “That’s just Candie. I already told you about her. She’s my new roping partner.”
I’m not backing down on this one. “I thought your new partner was a guy named CJ . . . and why is your hand cradling her butt like that?”
“Cradling? Nice verb choice Kaitlyn. You can be so dense sometimes. I’m surprised they let you into all those advanced classes.” Pistol clicks his tongue as he grabs my phone from my hand and looks closely down at the picture. “For one, CJ is short for Candie Johnson. She happens to be an excellent roper. That’s all. End-of-story. And secondly, her saddle was slipping. We were short on time, so I helped her tighten it, and gave her a boost. Haven’t you ever seen a guy help a girl mount a horse before? It’s called being a gentleman.”
“By groping her like that? And look at the smile on her face! Wow, Pistol, I can practically see her heart skipping in the picture.” I pull the mask from my eyes, so he can see the full extent of how livid I am about a cowboy named CJ turning into a hot blonde named Candie Johnson.
“Well, I didn’t come here to fight. I think I’m gonna head out. Text me when you’re looking. .I mean feeling better . . . and when you can be honest about what really happened Friday night.”
He chucks my phone at the wall and marches out the door, only to be met by Caden and Brody. When he sees their red, swollen faces, he shakes his head and clicks his tongue. Scowling, he turns back to me and spits out, “Never mind telling me about who you were with on Friday. I just figured it out. And you’re mad at me about my roping partner? Huh.” He turns away and stomps down the hall.
The boys brush past Pistol and come in to check on me. At the sight of my appearance, a slight chuckle escapes Brody, but he quickly stops when he sees the seriousness on my face. “I’m not sure whether to laugh or ask if you’re okay, Pip. I heard a bang. What just happene
d?”
I release the breath I’ve been holding and slowly reach up to my head. As I pull my fingers through my hair, the sleeve of my robe slips down to my elbow exposing the very spot where Pistol had just grabbed me. Caden slides his hand under my elbow, bringing it closer to his face.
“Why’s your arm all red, T?”
Brody squints his eyes, focusing on my arm, and then does a speedy about face and runs down the hall.
I can hear the rapid thumb of his feet and the door quickly creak open and slam shut. A spike of adrenaline shoots through my entire body and buzzing fills my ears. I can’t even respond to Caden, wondering where Brody just went.
“Don’t worry about Brody! Sis, what’s up with your arm?”
Staring silently back at Caden, looks of realization and then anger quickly replace his concerned expression. He lets go of me and sprints down the hall to join Brody. Oh no. They’re going after Pistol. I stand frozen in place, wondering how I let this happen.
I hear brakes screech, a door slam, and muffled voices flying outside my window. I can’t make out their words, but the voices stop and I hear metal crunch. It sounds like someone just threw a potato sack on the hood of a car. I’m terrified to see what’s happening outside, but I find the nerve to creep down the hallway and turn the handle, cracking the door open just enough to hear what’s being said. I press my ear up against the hardwood and strain to hear the argument.
Brody’s deep voice carries through the surrounding silence, “You’d better NEVER touch her again you Son of a . . . !” A slam vibrates through the darkness.
“You think you’re really going to stop me from seeing her? I don’t know what you think you saw, but whatever it is, you’re over-reacting!” Pistol spits back, followed by another thumping sound.
“The last two times you’ve been around her, she’s ended up with bruises! That’s no accident! You think your tough manhandling a tiny, little girl?” Brody barks back. “Why don’t you try bullying someone with a little more muscle, Tough Guy?”
I hear a thump and momentary silence, followed by Pistol’s groaning voice, “You know better than anyone that she’s a klutz! That girl can’t stand on her own two feet! I caught her when she was falling you idiot! Now you’re coming after me for helping her out?”
The sound of shuffling replaces Brody’s and Pistol’s heated argument.
I cannot believe he just put me down like that and then lied about what happened. A surge of anger shoots through me and I open the door to get a better view. I can’t believe the scene that’s unfolding before me. Brody has taken Pistol from behind and has him in a headlock. His fist pumps rapidly into Pistol’s face. Caden must’ve heard the door creak, and he suddenly swings his head toward the house. He yells, “Stay back T. You don’t need to get in the middle of this.”
Fear wells up inside me and I don’t know how to react. I’m worried that Pistol won’t be able to take this kind of beating, but I’m also afraid that Brody is going to get himself into huge trouble. He has a good shot at a football scholarship. I can’t let him mess that up. I’m not worth this. I contemplate how to stop this mess when Brody screams out, “Don’t you ever insult her like that again! She’s too good for you!” I hear another thump, followed by more yelling, “Had enough?” Brody finally drops Pistol to the ground. “And if I ever see another mark on her after being around you . . . Let’s just say this is gonna feel like a gentle massage!”
Pistol scurries to his feet and jumps inside of his truck. His tires screech as he peels out down the street. Brody and Caden grab the hose and begin washing down the front sidewalk. I’m standing there watching them clean up, unsure of how to talk to them about what just happened. I feel horrible about all of this. I know they were defending me, but I can’t help but feel bad that Pistol just got the living daylights beat out of him. My stomach turns, thinking about the pain he must be in right now. He’s gonna hate me. I decide to pull out my phone and text him.
Me:
I’m so sorry Dimples. I just caught the tail end of that. I’ll talk to the boys. Please don’t hate me.
There’s no response.
I turn around and head back into the house. I am so shaken up, I don’t even know how to react. This is all so new to me. I mean, these guys have always defended me, but not against someone I care for so deeply. It has created a storm of conflicting feelings, which have left me stunned and speechless. When Caden and Brody walk through the door, I avoid a possible confrontation by sneaking through the living room and taking a seat in the dark corner. I silently crawl onto the couch and listen to their conversation. They don’t see me sitting there when they begin to open up about what just happened.
“I really appreciate you taking care of my sister like that, Bro,” Caden says with sincerity.
“You know how I feel about her, Caden. I know it’s caused a little drama between us lately, but that girl means the world to me. I’m just so incredibly drawn to protect her these days. The thought of that jerk with his hands on her tears me up inside.”
“Brody, you’ve got to be straight with me Dude. Is it just protecting her from Pistol? Cuz it seems like it might be something more,” Caden questions. “I mean, I watched you with her at the bridge. Pistol wasn’t even around. What was that?”
“Well, don’t kick me in the balls or anything, but I’m kinda feelin’ it for her lately. She’s so darned funny and witty, and I can’t get past how beautiful she is . . . The way she doesn’t take my messin’ and she throws my bull right back in my face, just gets me right here.” Brody double fist bumps his chest. “I just want to be around her all the time. I’m so confused. It’s been keeping me up at night with this kinda sick feeling; knowing you’re gonna kick my ass, and she’s gonna kick my ass, but then while I’m lying there thinking about getting my ass kicked, I realize, I’d totally risk that for her. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a girl. She’s smart, funny, athletic, gorgeous . . . The best part about her is, she doesn’t even know it. She’s amazing, and she doesn’t throw herself all over me like these other hoochies we go to school with. It’s so . . . so intriguing. Caden, I think I’m falling for her.”
“Dude, you’re right . . . You should put on a nut cup before saying stuff like that to me. That’s my sister; our best friend! Don’t you think getting involved with her could screw up our friendship for life?”
“You’re right, that’s what’s making me so sick inside. I’m gonna work on this buddy. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”
Oh my, I can’t believe I just overheard that conversation. If I wasn’t feeling butterflies before, Brody has just unleashed an entire swarm inside of me. I pull myself into a ball to try to tame the whirring tsunami of nerves thrashing around in my stomach. At the sound of my feet brushing against the leather, both boys turn toward me. Brody’s jaw slackens and I tuck my head between my knees. Looking down at my feet, I slowly raise my hand in a gesture of hello. “Hi guys, I guess I wasn’t supposed to hear that, huh?”
“Nope,” Brody pops the p sound when he responds in a slightly elevated tone. A gulp shatters the silence. “I think I’m gonna go now, Caden.”
I never look back up, when I hear the door shut behind him.
“DON’T FORGET ABOUT DRESS SHOPPING after school today,” Jenna jumps up next to me as we head into our honors chemistry class. It’s our favorite period of the day. For one, the whole gang is together, which makes it super fun. Then, there’s the teacher, Mr. Pine. Not only is he a brilliant scientist, but he knows how to use his skills to create explosive chemical reactions in all the girls. I’m not sure how I even keep my head on straight when he’s in front of the room. He’s a former pro baseball player, current coach of the Mighty Miners, and if Michelangelo’s David could walk and talk, they’d be mistaken for twins . . . well, minus the out-of-style, curly, marble hair. Okay, let’s just say he’s cut.
We take our seats, and I look up to see the lioness Chelsea, pawing her way up to
ward Mr. Pine. She’s baring her sharp teeth at the group of girls currently surrounding him. Her dominant presence and possessive tendencies, send the other girls hesitantly meandering back to their seats. When everyone has cleared, leaving her alone with Mr. Pine, Chelsea leans into him and hands him a Starbucks Coffee. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me out with that whole bonding thing yesterday.” She bats her eyelashes up at him, while a guarded expression spreads across his face. “Who would’ve thought that the balance of attractive and repulsive forces could cause such a strong connection. It’s like Beauty and the Beast or something.”
“Get a load of Cha Cha Chelsea up there flirting with Mr. P. again,” I roll my eyes and look at Jenna, who clues me in to his repulsed reaction.
“Look at his face Kaitlyn. He’s dying inside. She’s trying to bag him like he’s an eighteen year old guy. Good thing he has all that practice fending off voracious Detroit Tigeresses.”
We’re still watching the Chelsea show, when we see Mr. Pine raise his eyebrows, shake his head and walk away to set the coffee on his podium. He doesn’t say a word in response, but only clears his throat and walks back to the front of the room.
“Alright class. It’s time to settle down and get started. Take out your lab journals and turn to your notes on covalent bonds,” Mr. Pine tries to get the class on track. Even though it’s an honors class, everyone is so jacked up on Homecoming spirit that it’s hard to calm them down. Rather than raising his voice, he returns to the front of the room, stands in back of his podium, raises his eyebrows at us, and patiently sips his coffee while surveying the scene unfolding before him.