To the Steadfast

by Briana Gaitan

  He grins at me as I start the car. “So I guess you’re not in the mood to hook up anymore.”

  Running my tongue across my lips, I lean in close to him. “I’m gonna make you work a little harder.”

  The rest of the weekend is smooth sailing. Killian hasn’t been home or if he has been home, he’s staying far away from me. I feel bad for ditching him, but it wasn’t like we were on a date. I’m free to do what I please in my love life. Mischa has once again disappeared. He gave me his cell phone number but hasn’t returned a single text I’ve sent, which confuses me even more. On Monday, I make plans to go shopping for dorm supplies. I drive into Atlanta and spend the week shopping. I need new clothes for class and basic things for my room. When I return on Thursday, I’m even more distraught over the fact that Mischa has dropped off the face of the earth. Until now, I’ve been hesitant to jump back in the sack with Mischa, but spending an entire week alone has given me some new perspective. I’ll take him however I can get him. On Friday evening, my phone finally goes off.

  Mischa: Pick you up in 30?

  I fall back on my bed, a smile never leaving my face as I type out a reply.

  Cody: I’ll be here.

  Mischa picks me up in an older red two-seat Miata.

  “Taking me to Shit Creek again?” I joke as we drive off. He’s wearing a ball cap, and I pull it off and run my fingers through his hair. “Give me an adventure, Cromwell.”

  “What would you like to do? You’re eighteen now. Maybe we can go to the city?”

  “Can’t we stay around here?”

  “Really? What is there to do in Betty, Georgia?”

  I get a small feeling that he doesn’t want to be seen with me so I ask him outright if he’s scared of being seen with me.

  “What?” His face scrunches up in anger. “I would never be embarrassed of you, but I’m protecting you. You know what people say about me. My house, you don’t want to go there.”

  He’s right. People will see us together and keep talking. They won’t stop at the truth.

  “Just don’t take me to the middle of nowhere.”

  He slams on the brake and spins the car around to go in the opposite direction. “You want to go to my boat?”

  “You have a boat?” I bite my lip and cock my head to the left a little, trying to study him.

  “If you have this car and boat, why are you living at home with your mom and Violet?”

  “Because they need me. Do you want to go out on the boat or not?”

  “Sure. I’ve never been on a boat before.”

  “Really? You’re not kidding? I figure with your parents—”

  “—That I’d have been on all these extravagant vacations and stuff? I’ve traveled by land and air but never boat.”

  “Well, Cody. You are about to have your first boat ride. I have it stored at a marina about a half hour from here.”

  I settle back against the seat and reach out for his hand which has callused over from all the manual labor he does in the shop. Does he even work at the shop still? I’m not entirely sure. He’s so tightlipped about his life.

  We’re about ten minutes into the trip when rain begins to fall from the sky. It starts slowly, but before long, it turns into a full-blown downpour.

  “Damn.” I press my nose against the glass and stare out into the now-darkened sky.

  He puts the car in park at the edge of the boat dock, and as the water pounds against the metal box surrounding us, he unbuckles. “Ready?”

  “For what?”

  The corners of his mouth lift up and he pulls his shirt up over his head. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little rain.”

  “Are you crazy? We can’t go out in a storm like this. We’ll get hit by lightning or something.”

  “The odds of being hit by lightning are 1 in a million. Come on…” He unbuckles my belt, but I grab it and try to buckle back up.

  “No way, I don’t want to get sick.”

  He leans forward and presses his forehead against mine. Nose to nose. “You need to loosen up a little. You used to jump at chances like these.”

  It’s been a stressful year. I know this. Deciding to be brave and bring a little of the old Cody back, I kiss his nose. “Close your eyes and count to twenty then come find me.”

  He leans back in his seat and does as I say. Quietly, I slip out of the car and make a dash for the boat dock. I can’t see much through the rain, but I make out a row of pontoon boats and then a few houseboats near the end of the pier. I don’t know which one is Mischa’s, but I do know I have to hide, and quick. I make a turn toward another dock to get back to land, but notice Mischa about a hundred feet ahead of me.

  “Cody?” he calls out. I turn and run the other way. I jump on a boat to my left. It’s larger than the rest, but I crouch down as low as I can and pray Mischa can’t see me. Though it’s dark, there are lots of lamps scattered along the side of the dock, and I can see his shadow moving through the light mist.

  “Oh, Cody. You can’t hide from me forever.”

  He steps onto the boat I’m on. My eyes close. I can hear the water moving and his footsteps, but everything else seems so far away. He’s getting closer and closer.

  “I can always feel you,” he whispers. He’s only a few steps away from the seat I’m crunched up against. In a flash, Mischa scoops me up and his lips are pressed against mine. I let out a startled cry before letting myself melt against him. He leans back to let me wrap my legs around him. Why did I ever want to forget him? We’re so good together. This feels so good with him. He makes me feel so alive when he touches me like this. His hands run up and down my back before they stop at my bra, unsnapping the hooks.

  “I’ve missed you,” I whisper against his skin.

  Before I know what I’m saying, I let the words slip out. The last time I said them, he broke my heart.

  “I love you, Mischa Cromwell.” I immediately wish I could take it back.

  He freezes and my entire world stops. How could I have said that to him? It just slipped out.

  I don’t expect an answer. I know he’s probably never said it before, not even to his own parents.

  He stops me from talking by pressing his lips against mine. He tugs at my shirt, pulling it over my head. There’s urgency in his movements now. One that wasn’t there before. When he gets my shirt off, he pulls back to unbutton his pants. The boat is steady, but I can still feel the movement of the water below us. My skin prickles from the cold until he runs his warm hands down my body. They stop at my hips before unbuttoning my jeans. I sit back so that I can wriggle them down over my ankles. He does the same before engulfing me in his warmth. I press my face into his chest, afraid to move forward.

  “I need you,” I tell him. “I need this, but what if someone sees us?”

  His only response is a warm kiss. A kiss that makes everything else in the world seem trivial.

  “I’ll always keep you safe,” he whispers in my ear. And I trust him. Foolish or not, it doesn’t matter. A moan escapes my lips as his fingers run across my nipples, peaked from the cold.

  Out of the darkness, a light flashes in my eyes.

  “What the hell?” I gasp, pressing more against Mischa to cover my bare chest.

  Two cops stand a few yards away on the dock. “What do we have here? This your boat, kids?”

  Mischa looks at them and shakes his head.

  “Do you know you are trespassing on private property and… engaging in indecent acts?”

  Mischa smiles, but the officers don’t look amused. “We’re sorry, sir. We got on the wrong boat.”

  The officer waves his flashlight in our direction a bit more. “Get dressed, you two. You’re coming down to the station.”

  I throw my clothes on as fast as I can. Thankfully, I have Mischa’s large body to cover most of me from the eyes of the cops. He doesn’t seem to care that we’ve been caught naked on a boat. In fact, he seems to be taking his sweet time getting dressed
. I—on the other hand—am mortified.

  When we’re both decent, the officers separate us and take our information. I keep my head down, afraid to look the officer in the eye. Everything moves in a haze as if it isn’t real. We’re eventually shoved into the back of the cop car to be taken to the station. I’m not sure what is going on, but I’m positive there’s something Mischa isn’t telling me.

  “You don’t have a boat here, do you?” I ask Mischa.

  He shakes his head, but refuses to look at me. “It’s a friend’s boat. I just wanted us to be together. I thought it would be a safe place.”

  I press on. “Why did they arrest us?

  “I may have a capias out for my arrest.” His eyes dart my way as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction.

  “You’re wanted by the police? Seriously? Do you know what an arrest will look like on my record?”

  “I’m sorry, Cody. Please don’t hate me. I tried to keep you from this side of me. I wanted you to look at me like you did before. I wanted you to still believe in me.”

  “Shut up,” I say. “Just shut up. I always believed in you. You’re the only one who keeps throwing mixed signals, stringing me along like a puppet.” I turn toward the door and refuse to speak to him for the rest of the trip.

  When we show up at the station, they book Mischa and me separately. The female officer, who is taking my picture and fingerprints, looks sympathetic to my situation.

  “The guy you came in with your boyfriend?” she asks, smacking on her gum.

  “Something like that,” I mumble. “I thought he had a boat there. Guess he just wanted one thing.”

  She stands and begins to pat me down before taking all my possessions. Phone, keys, wallet, rings.

  “Take it from me. You can’t let the smooth talkers get away with things like that. Kick him to the curb. His rap sheet isn’t anything to drool over.”

  “Oh, I will. Believe me.” My voice is confident, but inside I’m scared and confused.

  “We still have to book you for trespassing, but it isn’t as bad as it seems.” She pushes a phone toward me. “Wanna call someone to get you out and post your bail?”

  I stand there with the phone in my hand for a few minutes before dialing my father’s cell phone. This will be the second time he’s had to come get me out of jail. Believe me, I’m not proud.

  When he answers, I take a deep breath. My voice is unsteady as I speak. “Daddy?”

  “Dakota? What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to come bail me out of jail. I’m at the county sheriff’s station.”

  “Jail? What in the hell did you do? Do you know what this will look like on your record? You do know that medical schools do background checks.”

  I close my eyes. He isn’t even worried about me, just my career. “I know. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “It wasn’t your fault? I swear, you sound like a child. Let me call the lawyer. I’ll be there when I get there.”

  I hang up. I should have called someone else. Anyone but him, but my contacts are limited. I’m taken to a room with three other women. It isn’t at all like what you see at the movies. There are no bars, only a white room with a one-window door. All the women turn to look at me as I step inside. Two are sitting on a bed, and another is sitting on a makeshift mattress on the floor. I sit down on the sticky ground without saying a word. One of the girls makes a move for the toilet in the far corner, flushing it to cover the sound of her puking. I try not to make eye contact, but the girl on the bed smiles at me.

  “What you in here for?” Her voice is deep. A smoker’s voice.

  “Trespassing.”

  “That isn’t so bad. Wait? Are you the girl who came in with Mischa Cromwell?”

  I don’t answer, afraid they may try and start some sort of cat fight with me.

  “I went to high school with him. Sexy, but bad news. I’m Butch, by the way.”

  Butch? Poor girl. There’s nothing butch about her, she looks extremely malnourished. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cody.”

  The girl in the corner runs to the toilet again and begins dry heaving.

  “She okay?” I ask Butch.

  Butch leans in while picking at a scab on her pale arm. A horrible stench floats from her straw-like hair. “You’re in the detox room. She’s coming off of Meth.”

  I wrinkle my nose as the girl walks over and begins drinking from a pitcher of Kool-Aid by the door.

  “Sorry,” she mumbles to me.

  I wave my hand at her. “Don’t worry about it.” If being next to a sick girl is the worst thing that happens in here, I can deal.

  Butch crosses her legs and points to the toilet. “Wait until she starts shitting all over.”

  My stomach churns at the sound. “Are you detoxing too?”

  “Nah, I just told them I was so I could be in here. We’re the only ones who get Kool-Aid.” She winks at me like it’s some sort of delicacy, and I wonder how many times she’s been in here. “They must be full everywhere or else you’d have been put in the back.”

  “I hope so.” I think back to when people are let out of jail for overcrowding issues. It has to be close to midnight, but I’m wide awake. The concrete is too cold and the other girls are too loud, but they cover the noise in my head, the thoughts that keep replaying mine and Mischa’s conversation in the car. When what I can assume is morning comes, an officer opens the door and calls my name.

  “Dakota Lombardi. You ready to go?” She takes me up front and gives me my stuff and hands me some papers to sign. “Your father is up front waiting. A word of advice. You seem like a good girl so I don’t want to see you back here.”

  “What about the guy I came in with?”

  She looks at her clipboard. “He was bailed out earlier this morning.”

  I open my mouth to ask her more questions, but she walks off.

  When I emerge from the jail into the bright sun, my father leans against his car with a scowl on his face.

  “Thanks.”

  “Took some finagling, but I got the charges dropped and am working on getting your record expunged. Every time you come here, you get into trouble. And that guy you were arrested with, he’s in here for assault. I swear, Dakota. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him last year when I picked you up from jail? That boy is bad news.”

  “I know,” I mumble.

  “Can you get through a few more weeks? Get to school and concentrate only on school.”

  I’m sick of the lectures. I’m sick of it all. I’m sick of my parents forcing me to do what they want. Sure, I made mistakes, but that’s part of growing up.

  “I don’t want to go to Columbia.”

  His nostrils flare. “What?”

  “I don’t want to go to medical school. I want to be a nurse like Nona.”

  “I thought we were past that.” He throws his hands in the air and opens the passenger door so I can get in.

  “Because it’s what I want.” I climb in and press my hands to my temple.

  He slams the door and walks over to the driver’s side and gets in. “Columbia is a good school. I’m not gonna pay for you to go throw away your future.”

  “I’m not throwing anything away. It’s a respectable career.”

  “I didn’t send you to one of the most elite boarding schools in the world for nothing. You are going to Columbia and that is my final word.”

  Pressing my lips together, I try to think of a counter argument. “I’m an adult now. I can do whatever I want.”

  “I suppose you can pay for everything yourself then? A car, plane rides, clothes, school, books, an apartment. You’ve never had a job before. Do you really think you can handle it? You can’t even handle a summer without ending up in jail. If I let you go, there’s no telling where you’ll end up.”

  His words destroy what little confidence is left in my heart. I’m left feeling empty with no more strength to fight. I lean my head against the window and close my eyes.

 
“I’m taking you to your mother’s house. I expect you to stay out of trouble for the remainder of the summer and you will be interning at my office five days a week, and if I even suspect you’re hanging out with that Cromwell boy again…”

  His voice trails off as he tries to decide on my punishment. He’d never cut me off completely, I hope.

  “Let’s just say it won’t be pretty.”

  I don’t answer, but let myself drift in and out of a light slumber.

  My father keeps me busy. Most of my duties are secretarial, so it isn’t too bad. He doesn’t stay at his office but keeps busy with his rounds. Every time we’re in the same room, he ignores me or looks at me like I’ve hurt him. Trying to get back on his good side, I sit in a chair with a smile. Mischa has tried to call, but I ignore all his attempts at an apology. When he calls, it takes forever to get him out of my head again. My mind is in a Mischa overload that I can’t seem to break free of. As summer ends, so does my anger at my father. After all, he did what he promised, and my short night in jail is a thing of the past. I’m anxious to show him how responsible I can be if I put my mind to it. I am capable of making good choices, but when it comes to Mischa my head goes out the window.

  After one particularly long day at the office, I come home to Mischa sitting on the front porch. I really need to change the code to the front gate. I put the car in park and get out. I sneak a glance in the rearview mirror and do what I can to fix my smudged eyeliner and ponytail.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand as I walk up to him.

  He digs his hands into his pocket. “I’ve tried to get in touch with you, but you won’t take my calls.”

  “For good reason.”

  “Look, I’m sorry you got arrested. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I try to step past him, but he grabs my arm and pulls me back.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  If I speak, my mouth will betray me. It will tell him how much I’ve missed him, too. I stare at the front door, refusing to acknowledge him.

  “Did you miss me, Cody?”