Unavoidably.
Johnny arrived in the states a week later.
CHAPTER TWENTY
~ Disaster ~
-1-
From Nicole’s diary. I haven’t bothered to transcribe this. I’ve just copied it word for word from what she wrote. Keep that in mind when she uses the pronoun “I.”
Saturday, Aug 22
This is a disaster. An absolute disaster.
Johnny arrived in the states this morning. I’d known of his flight for two weeks. I didn’t tell Cat because Cat still doesn’t know he and I have been talking so regularly. Like, every few days. And he didn’t want me to tell her.
It had been platonic, completely platonic, our conversations. Not once had I intended for it to move on to this. You know the truth, don’t you, Diary? I’ve been sincere, faithful to my best friend.
And now this.
Oh, God. Oh, dear God...
He asked me to meet him up on some or other hill, about a mile out from where his parents stay. In the woods, surrounded by spruces and pines, filled with the sounds of a laughing brook below.
“Nice place,” I said to him when I arrived. The place smelled of dry twigs and underbrush and dust. For a guy and a girl, under different circumstances, it would be a very romantic place.
Johnny beamed when he saw me.
And when I saw him...
Oh, dear God. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
Diary, I’ve always been honest with you, and I’ll tell you the truth now: Sexually... Wow. Oh, my dear God—WOW. Johnny... Oh, man. This is so bad...
Johnny has...changed. I mean...a lot.
“You look...different,” I said.
I was lusting. I confess I confess I confess.
But it was a normal reaction, I swear to you. An absolutely normal reaction for any girl confronted with how he looked. He’s bulked up. I mean...MAJOR bulked up. Major major major. HARD freakin muscles. The dude must have been pumping his sorrows into iron every day for the last year. Johnny had always been big. This is different. This is...bodybuilder, man.
He’d left the stubble on his cheeks, that classic rugged look of his that he’d worn throughout high school. Only now the beard is harder, more manly.
The only thing that hasn’t changed are his vivid green eyes. But set against his now-darker skin (Portugal must have beautiful weather because he’s tanned as hell), and his harder muscles, the look was deadly.
I know, I know, I’m talking like an idiotic schoolgirl about looks looks looks. Let me tell you...it was a shock to the system. The man is different. He’s exactly that: A man. A grown, successful man.
“You look good as well,” he said.
I was uncomfortable. I’d dressed too revealingly. I’d just slapped on a chambray shirt and short white shorts. Very short. Too short. And ankle-high boots. Black boots. Sexy boots. Goddamnit.
Johnny looked at my legs for a little too long.
Fuck!
“You can relax, Nicole. I’m not hitting on you. I know it would be...awkward.”
Awkward? And if Cat weren’t around, would you hit on me then?
“I am relaxed. What makes you think I’m not relaxed?”
Johnny laughed. God. I’d forgotten how catching his laugh was.
“Some spot,” I said, looking around at the trees and the blanket he’d spread out.
“Yeah. Cat and I used to come here all the time.”
Cat. Yes. My best friend. My sister. A girl who I’ve sought comfort in when my mind had been filled with doubts and fears and worries and sorrow.
Cat.
“Hmmm, that makes me feel weird,” I said.
“Sit.” He pointed at the blanket.
I sat, brought my knees together and wrapped my arms around them. Looked ahead.
“Are you gonna relax?” he asked again.
“Do I look tense?”
“Yes, you do.”
When I looked at his eyes, his smile, trying to calm me down...
I don’t love him, I thought. I know I don’t. But do I have feelings for him? Do I? And if I do, why didn’t I see it before?
I do have feelings for him, Diary. Have. Had. I don’t know. I’m so confused!
But I only realized it then, in those woods, not before. Never before. I swear it.
“Why here?” I asked.
Johnny looked into the woods. “Why not here? Bringing you over to my place would only lead to questions. It would be rude not to see Cat. And if my family knew you’d come by first, something might slip. Cat might get the wrong idea. This is a quiet place. Very private. No one would see us here. Did you drive?”
I nodded, pointed to my new car. I’d be done with the screenwriter’s workshop this week. Before, there’d been no point in getting a car. Not in New York when your life revolves around college and home and the two are linked by a subway.
“Cat at home?”
“Yeah,” I croaked. “Doing another shoot with the bikers. Alice is doing the catering.”
He said nothing.
“So? How you doing?” I asked him. I noticed both of us were avoiding eye-contact.
“I’m surviving. I’m doing well, actually. Technically, I’m doing well.”
“Good. Good.” Having nothing to say, I said, “You promised me coffee. This isn’t coffee.” I was trying to lighten the mood.
He smiled, and it warmed his beautiful green eyes.
I looked away. Can’t look at him. Can’t. Can’t. Won’t.
But I did, Diary. I did. I looked at him...and...fuck!...I wanted him. I wanted him and I knew I wanted him.
And I knew, absolutely, without a doubt, that I would not take him.
“Yeah, bringing coffee would have been...”
“Awkward,” I finished for him.
“I just wanted to thank you, Nicole. I honestly don’t know what happened to me. I got into a dangerous lifestyle. You...kept me sane.”
“You were in love,” I said. It was a pat answer.
“Bullshit. You know as well as I do it wasn’t that.”
“If not that, then what?”
“Well, initially, sure. Maybe it was that. But...I don’t know—a new country, new friends, losing old friends. And then the money, God, I started raking it in. It was too easy. I think it should be difficult to make money, makes you appreciate it more. But it was easy for me. I closed deals, made hundreds of thousands. It goes to your head, that shit. It’s like coke—”
“Coke?”
“No, no, chill. I haven’t done that shit. I was just using it as an example. I partied, I lavished cash out, and then I started going a little wild. But you...you were always there, like an anchor.”
Fuck.
I needed to bring Cat into the conversation again, make her front and center in his mind. “I always figured you and Cat had some cosmic connection or something,” I said. “Something intangible that kept you two together even at such distance.”
“There’s no connection, Nicole. There’s just a wound which won’t heal. It’s not the same thing.”
“Hmm?”
“That somebody hurt you, and that you feel the hurt, and that you confuse the hurt with love, doesn’t mean you are connected. I lovED Cat. LovED, past tense. The love was deep, fulfilling, incredible. When it was torn apart, I was left gasping. It doesn’t mean I still love her. It just means that I was wounded.”
Damn, the boy was in touch with his emotions. “Your accent, it’s stronger,” I said.
He smiled—OhdearGod—and nodded. “A year speaking only Portuguese will do that to you. I have to think in circles sometimes. The words don’t come to me immediately, and I have to think of synonyms instead.”
“They’ll come back to you, the words.”
“How the fuck would you know?” he joked. And then came that deadly laugh again...
I laughed along with him.
“I’m proud of you, Nicole. For what you’ve become.”
Oh, fuck, don’t go saying shit like tha
t, J.
“Th—thanks.”
“I mean it. When you and I dated, you were a different person. I’m...impressed.”
“We never dated.” I was trying to diffuse the electricity forming.
“We did fucking date.”
“You broke my heart.” No, wrong thing to say!
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
At first I didn’t say anything, but then I felt I had a right to. He’s the one who mentioned old wounds, and them not being the same as love. “You did hurt me, Johnny. I mean, I know we didn’t love each other as such. But we were sixteen. Emotions were confusing back then. I cried for a week. It wasn’t love. I know that. But back then I believed it was. And back then it hurt me. It hurt me a lot.”
“It was love.”
“What?”
“It was love to you—to us—back then, so it was love. Love through a teenager’s eyes is still love.”
That hurt.
“It wasn’t right, what I did,” he said. “I’ve thought about it a lot, since you started calling me. It’s like Karma, maybe. You never treated me wrong when you and I were together, and I dumped you. I never treated Cat wrong—I hope—and she dumped me. It’s the only explanation.”
“Bullshit. It’s life. And shit happens. Karma’s bullshit. It was right, what you did. You loved Cat. You knew it. You didn’t love me—”
“But you and I were involved.”
“So?”
“You and I were involved. It’s not right to split up with one person for another. It’s right to split up with her if you’re not compatible, if you’re not getting along. But if you keep chasing that ‘other,’ you’ll never be happy.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’ve already said it. I’m sorry.”
“No, that other thing. About compatibility.”
He picked up a twig, chewed it. Shrugged. “You and I weren’t fighting. We were doing OK, I guess. Maybe it would have worked if we’d continued.” Pause. “I mean, we were definitely compatible sexually. No problem there. Who’s to say the other things wouldn’t have followed?”
Silence.
“Nicole?”
“Uhm, yeah, I’m here. I just don’t get what you’re getting at with...”
He laughed again. So relaxed, so cool. This was just a late summer conversation to him. Two friends in the woods. He had no idea what his philosophizing was doing to me.
“I think it should be pretty obvious what I’m getting at, Nic.”
Nic.
Nic.
Nic.
Diary, the last time he’d called me Nic, he had his finger inside me. And I was squealing madly into his chest while my nails gashed holes into his arms.
I swallowed hard. Said nothing.
“Don’t panic, Nic. I’m just—”
“Don’t call me Nic.”
He waited. “OK. Fine. I won’t.”
I shook my head, not believing where this was going.
“Nothing will happen if you don’t want it to, Nic...ole. So, like I said, don’t panic. You know I’m cool. I don’t chase a girl who’s not interested. I learned that lesson the hard way. But I have a suspicion you...” He didn’t finish his statement. There was no need to.
I didn’t even fight him on the statement, Diary. I was riveted, spinning, freaking out...
“Am I right?” he said.
I didn’t deny it. The world went foggy as water filled my eyes.
Cat, my best friend, Cat.
I had no doubt in my mind that I would not betray her. I still have no doubt.
And that’s why I was crying.
Because he was right.
I felt something for him. Something small. Something miniscule. But something. Something more than I’ve ever felt for anyone.
In a simple world, I would have simply pushed my lips against his, and seen where it went.
“I’ve never loved anyone, Johnny. I’m not the loving kind.”
The only person I’ve ever loved is mom. Mom, who died when I was five. And then dad. The only person I had left...
...until he’d touched me. And until I’d heard that other woman scream next door, the night before they took him away.
And then I had no one left.
No one.
And I didn’t want anyone. Still don’t. Or do I?
“I know,” he said.
“And I don’t love you. I don’t. I know I don’t.”
“I also know you don’t.” Goddamnit, Diary, he was so freaking chilled and collected about the whole damn thing! Like he knew me more than I know myself!
But it’s bullshit! It’s bull...SHIT! I DO know myself! DO!
“But there’s something there,” he said. “There’s a spark. Tell me it’s not true.”
More fogginess in my eyes. “It makes no difference if it’s true. Nothing can happen. Nothing...will...happen.”
“Nic.” I had no energy left to tell him to use my full name. “If Cat truly loved me, she would have broken up with this asshole and come running to me. But she didn’t. And I didn’t nudge her or coax her in that direction because I was watching. I was watching what she would do, what she would choose. Let the bird fly away and see if it comes back. She’s chosen, Nic. It’s over between us. Over. And, honestly, those emotions I had for her...I don’t feel them anymore. I haven’t for a long time.”
“It still doesn’t matter. Between me and you—”
“I’m just laying the cards out. I think you have feelings for me. I like you. I do. You’ve grown, you’ve changed. You’re”—he looked at my legs—“attractive. But I also think you’ve got an incredible heart. I could tell, all those phone calls, they were sincere. You were truly worried about me, about me imploding. And you were worried about Cat.
“I’d be interested to see where things went between us if we...well... As I said, physically, you and I always had chemistry. It was always intense with us.”
Diary, I won’t mention the physical reaction I had to what he said, because I’m not happy with it. But it happened, and I tightened my legs. And I changed my underwear when I got home.
“Are you done?” I said.
“I’m done.”
I stood. Waited. I wasn’t sure what to do, where to go. Part of me knew I should leave, that I should walk away and never think of this day, never mention it to Cat. I should just go to next week’s rooftop party after finishing my screenwriting class and find some guy and have him fuck me fully and hard.
And then? Do it again next week?
“Nic.” Oh, God, his voice was so soft and velvety.
I turned, faced him. Wiped my eyes. “Johnny, I never planned for this. I didn’t. I fucking swear it.”
“I know.”
“I can’t, I just can’t.”
He took a step forward.
When he touched my shoulders, I died.
I knew it would happen. Knew it.
I shivered as the tears poured from me, started to gasp, sob. Shook my head. No. It can’t happen. Can’t. Can’t.
But it did.
Johnny’s hands gripped around my arms, tightened. “I didn’t intend to make you cry, Nic.”
He smelled fresh and manly...
I shook my head, unable to speak. He shouldn’t be sorry. He’d been perceptive. He’d seen something I hadn’t.
“Nic, sit. You can’t drive home in this state. Sit.”
I gasped some more, wept for reasons I didn’t understand.
Love. A man. A friend. Those things my father did to me?
I don’t know.
I just hate it. Hate this. Hate the freaking situation. I mean, don’t I deserve love as well?
Yet, it couldn’t happen. Wouldn’t.
But he was right. I’d been there for him. And I had cared, Diary. I know more about his life now than Cat does. God, I even know how many women he’s slept with in the last year! (Nine.)
He crushed me
with a hug, and my hands fisted into his shirt. I wept into his chest, shuddered. Drenched his shirt with my tears.
He held me at arm’s length so he could see me. “I’m not pressurizing you, Nic. I’m just telling it like it is.”
I nodded, tried to get my chin under control. Looked away at the underbrush. “I’m not—I’m not—I’m not crying—because—because of that—Johnny. I’m...”
I thought of my father, his hand, how it had sought places it shouldn’t have for a twelve-year-old. I thought of the woman he took in his bedroom. How she had screamed...
God. When was the last time I remembered these things? Remembered them so vividly?
When you’ve been around sex all your life, Diary, you forget that there’s something else attached to it. Something more beautiful. You think it’s all ugly and touching and orgasms and cocks and tongues and pussies. Crass and meaningless.
And it can be.
And indeed it has been like that with me.
But it can also be something else.
Johnny brought me an inch closer. Then another.
One more.
His head moved down.
And mine... Oh, God, Diary. I confess I did it. ...my chin tilted up.
I tasted heaven when his lips found mine. Heaven. Utter peace. The memories vanished. The blackness disappeared. The world spun and butterflies hummed inside my stomach.
It was only our lips. Only the lips and nothing more in this world.
My heart imploded with need.
I closed my eyes, warming up. Felling mellow. Nothing. No war, no crimes, no pain, no ugliness. No sex.
Love.
Love.
Love?
And then my tongue melted into his. He breathed life into me, and I inhaled him deeply and completely.
And then I stopped.
Stopped.
No more.
Just. Can’t.
“Johnny.”
I licked my lips.
He held me riveted to the ground.
I was inebriated, swaying.
“Johnny,” I repeated. “I can’t.”
I took a step back, a painful, laborious, mud-wading step. Turned.
The world tilted as I staggered down to my car. I fumbled for my keys, dropped them. I couldn’t see through the fog of my eyes, the need, the fury.
I fought the keyhole, scratched the body of my new car.
Losing Johnny Page 16