by Jake Coburn
“Greg said he’d help us settle this. As a favor to his old friend, Thet,” I said.
“Hence the new outfit.” Kris shook her head. “Isn’t it a little crazy to trust Greg?”
“Danny doesn’t have much choice. Besides, some people are so crazy, they have to be good at something.”
“Even if it’s breaking people’s noses?” Kris asked.
“Especially if it’s breaking people’s noses,” Danny declared.
“I guess I should thank you,” Kris said.
I shrugged, trying to pretend like it didn’t matter to me. This wasn’t just about Kris, but I felt like she owed me.
Danny smiled and took another long swig. “I’m sending him fucking chocolates.”
“Nick, can I talk to Danny for a second? Before he passes out.”
“Me,” Danny mumbled. “I’m just getting my second wind.”
“Sure, I’m gonna . . .” I paused and tried to think where I could go. “I’m gonna go sit out by the pool,” I said, picking up my backpack.
Danny saluted as I pulled open the back door and stepped out into the Prescotts’ yard. On the patio, there were a couple of chaise longues and a barbecue set that someone had obviously started using and then forgotten about. The pool cover had slipped off the frame, and as I got closer, I saw that someone had tossed an empty keg into the center of the pool. The cover probably broke on impact and the bobbing weight had slowly twisted the plastic sheet toward the bottom. It was so contorted that it must have been sinking for hours, and I couldn’t decide whether it was starting to look like a light blue carnation or a whirlpool in slow motion.
I kicked a fleece blanket off a chaise and sat down. I slid the joint out from behind my ear. Pulling the first, hot drag, I felt the smoke spill down my throat and burn my nostrils. From outside, I could hear the sounds of the guys upstairs replaying Jill’s wait on the corner, and through the living-room doors I could make out the Dignitary sleeping underneath the coffee table. I took two more hits and stamped the rest out. I didn’t want to get stupid in front of Kris.
Kodak and I used to love to sneak away from a house party and find a quiet place to chill. We called it Book Clubbing, because we’d always borrow a book or two off the host’s bookshelf, and Kodak would usually swipe a bottle of wine. Half the time we’d end up reading on the roof of a building or in a back stair-well, but it was always the perfect way to balance out a long night of partying. Kodak loved the irony of reading a novel in the middle of all of the debauchery and mayhem. We never talked much during Book Club, but I didn’t mind. Kodak and I understood each other.
I unzipped my backpack and grabbed a can of Krylon. Giving it an even shake, I sprayed a streak into the grass and a thin film gathered on the top of my forefinger. The paint felt cool on my skin, and I rubbed my fingertips together. I brushed the Krylon off into the grass and remembered how the paint on my hands would always leave marks on my cigarette butts.
After a couple of minutes, Kris opened the back door and walked outside. Her lower lip was trembling like a five-year-old who’d scraped her knee, but she smiled when she saw me. Kris sat down at the foot of my chaise and let out a long sigh.
“I’m a wreck,” Kris said. “I just spoke to my mom. They started throwing bottles at the front door again, and she called the cops. She’s a fucking wreck, too.”
My mouth was dry. “Did you tell her where we were?”
“I told her Danny was on his way to Jersey to stay with a friend. Danny needs to settle this.”
“Where’d you say you were?”
“With Luke.”
“Huh,” I muttered. “Why didn’t Luke come with you?”
“He might be playing in some gig later tonight.”
I nodded. “Danny asleep?”
“Yeah, he found a guest bedroom downstairs. You know, I really owe you for this, Nick. I mean, you must’ve swallowed your pride asking Greg.”
“Greg’s loving every minute of this.”
“I’m sure.” Kris lay down next to me in the chaise. “How about you tell me a story?” she whispered. “I need to get out of my head, Cowboy.”
I put my arm around Kris’s shoulders and hugged her softly. She’d never let me get this close to her. It felt amazing. “What kind of story?”
“I don’t know. You know any love stories?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on. I won’t tell any of your guy friends. Promise.” Kris rested her head on my chest and tucked her hands inside her sleeves. I leaned forward, grabbed the fleece blanket, and wrapped it around us. She grinned and closed her eyes. I couldn’t say no.
“Okay, let me think. I guess it was the summer after seventh grade, and there was this girl, Michelle, at my tennis camp. Well, she had me completely strung out. Cupid must’ve been using a semiautomatic that day. And being the romantic seventh-grader I was, I got this idea into my head that I’d just sweep her off her feet.”
“And into your arms.”
“Right . . . Well, I taped a long-stemmed rose to the outside of her locker in the rec room.” I could feel the rise and fall of Kris’s rib cage against my chest. At that moment, I would’ve done the entire weekend over again just to be lying there next to her. “God, I remember standing next to locker one-twelve with this enormous rose hidden under my jacket.”
“A red rose?”
“A rose is a rose.”
Kris looked inquisitively up at me.
“It was red,” I conceded. “Anyway, my heart was pounding for the rest of the day. I was so scared to see her on the courts and have her realize it was me.”
“Why would that have been so bad?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Well, that night I wrote her this letter confessing everything and saying I thought she was brilliant and funny and drop-dead gorgeous. I slipped it into her locker the next day, but I didn’t sign it.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see. So that afternoon I sit down next to her during a water break and say, ‘Did I forget to sign my letter?’ ”
Kris burst out laughing and covered her face with her hands. “What’d she say?”
“We talked for a bit, and eventually she told me she had a crush on this guy in AA Singles.”
“That sucks,” Kris said, still smiling.
“She said I couldn’t feel as strongly as my letter said I did. She gave me that ‘You don’t even know me’ line.”
“And then she went back to her forehand volleys.”
“It really bothered me that she didn’t . . .” I paused. “I just gave her my heart, and she didn’t get it.”
Kris nodded. “‘Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar; but never doubt I love.’ ”
“What’s that from?”
“Hamlet.”
“Well, at least I’m not the only one who dies in the end.”
“Oh, come on,” Kris groaned. “What happened to that grade-school romantic?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Don’t get too cynical, Cowboy,” Kris said, shaking her head gently. “I think what you did was great.”
I pulled Kris closer to me. My pulse was speeding from the joint, and I thought about Danny lying passed out in bed and how furious Mrs. Prescott would be when she found the keg in her pool. A soft breeze swept Kris’s hair across my neck, and I let my chin rest on her shoulder. She looked over at me and smiled. I caught her eyes as soon as I began to raise my head and held them. Her smile settled but I never let go of her eyes.
“Kris, I love you.”
One . . .
Two . . .
“What?” Kris said, startled.
“I’m in love with you, Kris.” I wanted to tell her everything.
“Oh, my God.”
“I had to tell you.”
“I . . .” She hesitated.
“Kris. I’ve been in love with you—”
“Wait,” Kris interrupted.<
br />
“Ever since we met.” I’d rehearsed it so many times in my head, every word and every phrase came rushing at me.
“Slow down.”
“I could have sworn you knew.”
“I didn’t,” she whispered.
“Does that make me clever or stupid?” I asked, searching her face. She didn’t look ecstatic, but she didn’t look unhappy either.
“Neither.”
“Maybe you weren’t looking.” As soon as I said that, I regretted it. I’d given her an easy way to let me down.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I tried to sound reassuring, but my fingers were trembling.
“Nick,” she began, and I froze. “Can you give me some time? I mean, with Danny and everything else. I’m going to need time to figure this all out.”
“Fine,” I said. “As much as you need.”
“I just know that I’m glad you told me. I mean, you could’ve tried something or whatever, but you did the right thing.”
“Okay,” I said. “But Kris, can you promise me something?”
“Sure.”
“Michelle doubted me. Promise me you won’t.”
“I promise.” Kris nodded, and the few locks of her hair resting on my shoulder nodded too. “I don’t doubt you.” She paused for a second. “I think I need to go for a walk,” she said, sitting up. “Maybe do some writing.”
“You’ll need to steal a pad of paper.”
“I’m always prepared, Cowboy.” She pulled a tiny notebook out of her jeans pocket. “Can you get some sleep?”
Kris vanished before I could think of anything else to say. I guess I didn’t have anything left to say. Resting my head back against the chaise, I slipped Ella out of my wallet. I rolled him back and forth between my fingers, like a poker player in those old Westerns. If my dad were around, he could tell me what to do next.
I knew one thing, though. This was the last time I’d ever have to fall asleep not knowing what would happen if I told Kris. I slid the coin back into my pocket and closed my eyes.
The first thing I felt were Kris’s lips pressing against mine. Without opening my eyes, I reached for her and ran my hand slowly across her cheek. Her kisses nipped at my chin, then slid their way down my neck. I pulled her toward me and her lips fell back onto mine. Kris’s soft breathing tickled my nose, and all I could think was She really loves me.
“That’s my answer,” she whispered.
“I can live with this,” I said, opening my eyes.
“I was wondering when you were going to open them.”
“I was scared it was a dream. I didn’t want to chance it.” Kris’s eyes were teary and beginning to swell. “What happened?”
“I was just crying a little,” she said, wiping her nose.
“No, I can see you were crying. I mean what happened?” I suddenly had so much energy I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt like running around the Prescotts’ yard, but I didn’t want to let go of Kris.
“I don’t know.” She climbed into my arms and rested her head on my chest. “Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”
“I’m sure we can find a place to crash.”
We walked back through the living room. Only the cats were still around. Upstairs, a guy from Troy was lying stretched out on the sofa in the study, and he had a bag of mushrooms sitting on the coffee table next to a bottle of Evian. He was desperately clutching a remote control in his left hand, playing with the volume levels on C-SPAN2 reruns.
Kris and I found an empty bedroom next door. It was a small room with a couple pizza cartons, but it would have to do. Kris walked over and hit the light switch. The overhead bulb flickered for a few seconds, then flooded the room with green light. Someone had taken the light fixture off and replaced the original bulb with a cheap fluorescent one.
Kris looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “Give me a break,” she groaned.
Sitting on the bed, I turned on the table lamp.
Kris flipped off the overhead and leaned against the flowered wallpaper. “You know, I once heard a rumor about you.”
“From who?” I slid my hand into my jeans pocket and pulled out my pack of cigarettes.
“It was a while ago,” Kris said. “I think we’d just started hanging out.”
“What’d you hear?” I asked, nervously blowing the smoke up toward the ceiling.
“That you hooked up with all these girls from some high-school hockey team,” Kris said, grinning. “Somewhere in Canada or something.”
“What?” I had no idea why she was bringing this up.
“That’s just what I heard,” Kris declared.
I walked over to her and placed my hand on her hip. I needed to kiss her again.
Kris looked down at my hand. “Well, is it true?”
“No. It was a rumor sophomore year.”
She smiled. “None of it’s true?” She coolly brushed my hand off and walked over to the window. She’d never flirted with me like this before. I loved it.
“There was a girl. She was from Canada. And I slept with her in the Bahamas.”
“What about the rest of them?” Kris asked, pulling open the shades.
“That’s the fiction. She was my first, and one of my friends leaked the gossip. One thing led to another, and the Canadian girl became a hockey team.”
“Does that include the goalie?” She sat down on the windowsill.
“Depends on the version,” I said, leaning up against the window frame.
“Why didn’t you stop it?”
“I tried, but it was too late. Besides, Tim thought it was the greatest piece of gossip he’d ever heard. After a while, I think he started making shit up just to keep it going. You know Tim.”
“It didn’t sound like you anyway,” Kris said, running her hand along my leg. My calf started to shiver and I pressed my foot firmly into the carpet.
Through the wall came a piercing Southern accent. “And the distinguished gentleman from North Carolina has made several important claims in regard to . . .”
“Turn it down,” I yelled.
“. . . and for the direct aid of the various congressional organizations . . .” The volume dropped off and was followed by a muddled apology.
“Why’d you wait to ask me about it?” I said, trying to regain Kris’s attention.
“It never mattered that much to me until . . .” Her voice faded out.
“Until?”
“Until it did. . . .” She reached under my shirt and pressed her fingers against the small of my back. She must’ve felt my goosebumps. “So what’s the real story?” Kris stood up before I could lean over to kiss her and walked to the bed. She sat down on the edge of the quilt, propped a pillow against the headboard, and lay back.
“Why are you so interested?” I asked, embarrassed.
“Come on,” she said. “If everybody in your grade knew . . .”
I stepped toward her and ran my hand through her hair. I didn’t want to think about anything else but Kris. “I was fifteen. Her name was Jenna. We were really drunk,” I said. “That’s it.”
“Was it that fast?” she asked, looking up at me playfully.
“Shut up,” I said, grinning.
“Fine, you do the talking.”
“I was on vacation.” I sat down next to her on the mattress.
“With your family?”
“Yeah. Are you sure you really want to hear this?”
“I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “So this kid and I were hanging out at the Holiday Inn on the beach. There was some bar outside with a calypso band.”
“Red, red wine,” Kris sang, laughing.
“Very funny.” I sat back on my elbows. “Well, we’re sitting outside, and this girl at the table next to us keeps making eye contact with me. She wasn’t amazing-looking, but she had this nice chin-length brown hair.” I pushed my shoes off a
nd let them fall to the floor. “I mean, I’d love to say that my first time was with this Marilyn Monroe who thought that I was God’s gift to women, but . . .”
“I’d know you were lying.”
“Right. So, I’m playing it cool, just seeing what’ll happen, and she walks over to me.”
“Just like that?” Kris asked.
“Pretty much.” I leaned forward and pulled on Kris’s shoelace. The knot didn’t give and I ended up jerking her ankle. Fuck.
Kris pushed the shoe off with her other foot. “This isn’t one of those girls who plays hard to get.”
“Well, we got along really well. I mean, I’d spoken to a half dozen girls that night, and she was the first one who could’ve told me who won the Civil War.”
Kris slid off her other shoe. “What’d you talk about?”
“Music, movies, where we lived.” I lay down next to Kris and kissed her softly on the neck. “So we hung out together for a few hours, drinking these strawberry daiquiris, dancing a little, smoking all my cigarettes. You know the bit. God, I think we even walked down to the beach and named the stars.”
“How romantic,” Kris said. “And then?”
I smiled and shook my head. I couldn’t believe I was telling her this story. “So out of nowhere she has this sudden urge to go swimming. Well, we were in that beginning stage where everything seems like foreplay so I said sure. And right out there in the middle of the ocean, we started screwing around.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t drown,” Kris said, tugging gently at my hair.
“No kidding. I swallowed about a quart of salt water trying to doggie paddle and kiss at the same time.”
“Sounds good, if you can get past the salty taste.”
“When we got back to the beach we just kept going at it. And within like five minutes we were rolling around in the sand.” I lifted Kris’s sweater over her head and her hair scattered across her breasts.
“Were you nervous?” Kris asked, pulling my hoodie over my shoulders.
“Hell, I was as nervous as the kid picked last for dodgeball.”
Sliding my left hand down Kris’s back, I tripped on her bra strap and felt for plastic. I ran my hand across the belt of fabric—I couldn’t find the clasp. Giving up for the moment, I went back to kissing Kris’s neck. She took my hand in hers, placed my fingers delicately in between her breasts, and guided me to the clasp. I tensed the elastic strap and unhooked her bra.