I echoed her scream and ran the other way, darting across the room, knocking into Merilyn’s dresser, causing a bunch of things to fall to the floor.
Miss Girlfriend, I deduced, was blocked as Caleb caught her one-armed and pulled her back to restrain her. “Jess, don’t. Jess …” he said while she thrashed inside his containment like a rabid prisoner of Azkaban. He effectively herded her toward the door as she continued to hiss and growl.
“This is bullshit. I came here to support you, and you do this? At your sister’s wake? You leave me alone downstairs and go make out with someone else?” she screamed out in the hallway with a huff.
My body shook while I watched the scene. I had no control over its response to confrontation or an excess amount of stress or anxiety. I never had.
This was not my life. Crazy. Unpredictable. I was not that girl, the kind who kissed someone involved. But he had made me that girl.
Dammit.
Staring down at the floor, I spotted a worn composition notebook with a cover ripped in several places and pages curling at the edges. Senior year bucket list was written sloppily on the front in Mer’s scrawl with some doodles of my own making. It was fitting that everything would end like this. My best friend gone, her brother still an ass, and me … as sad as I ever was.
2
______________
Caleb
-then-
Celia’s back. I stared at the pristine pair of baby blue Chucks lined neatly against the wall at the front door then kicked Mer’s well-worn green pair out of the way and sprinted up the stairs, two at a time, unable to wait a moment longer to start the fun.
“Boom!” I plowed into Mer’s room like I owned the joint. It was my favorite thing to do to get under her skin, though I hadn’t done it much lately. Busy summer. Getting older. All that shit.
“Caleb! What the fuck!” Mer yelled from her closet doorway, covering her chest with a T-shirt that was obviously not on.
“Ah! Why aren’t you dressed?” I yelled back, slapping my hands over my eyes and turning toward the other side of the room. “I need bleach!” I was so grateful there was no actual boob slip because of her quick reaction, but still … Ew.
“Why don’t you knock, asshole! Mom’s hearing about this,” she snapped.
A giggle emerged from the floor, and I looked down toward the familiar tone I hadn’t heard for almost the entire summer. Celia lay on her stomach, her bare legs bent upward, feet kicking in a shallow scissor motion as she stared at the notebook on the carpet in front of her. Her short shorts had crept up, the hem cupping the crease at the very base of her ass, which was looking nicer than it ever had. She faced the desk against the wall, her head leaning onto her left hand, straight hair spilling down to the floor and puddling in a soft brunette pool. Fuck. I blinked and shook my head. I’d had thoughts about her before, sure. Maybe even a few welcomed dreams since she’d become friends with Merilyn. But this instant reaction had caught me off guard.
“You two …” Celia said, not even turning to acknowledge me. “I missed this.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you missed Caleb being an ass and invading our privacy,” Mer said, stalking past me, fully clothed—thank God—and shooting me an extra special side-glare as her fist slammed into my bicep. “You’re such a shit. And you’re dropping sawdust all over my floor. The least you could do is shake off like the dog you are before coming into the house. Dad doesn’t even bring home that much crap from his shop and he’s there all day, Mr. I Gotta Part-Time Job With My Daddy.”
I rubbed the spot mockingly, letting out a not-so-fake “Ow.” It did hurt a little. I’d rather sprint barefoot over a mile of Legos than admit that, though. When she settled onto the floor beside Celia, I moved across the room in front of them for a full view, then purposely shook out my T-shirt, watching the sawdust I’d smuggled in float to the floor. “At least I have a job.”
“I’m putting in my application for The Shack this week. Speaking of …” She nudged Celia in the arm. “You should too. They’re looking for carhops.”
“That’s a good idea,” she replied. “I was planning to look around for something when I got back. Babysitting gigs might be nonexistent since I had to bail on my regulars for the mandatory summer-long grandparent visit.”
“It wasn’t all that bad, though, was it?” Mer asked.
“Not really. Took some time getting them moved and settled. Their new place upstate is nice. Isolated. It’s exactly what I told you on the phone. Boring despite what my mom tried so hard to sell me on.”
“So basically right up your alley?” I joked. She was the opposite of Mer, completely happy with the everyday boring. Content with reading a book and playing with her camera rather than hunting for something to do in this small-ass town that both Mer and I often felt trapped inside.
She rolled her eyes at my comment, still not looking at me. “The time with all of them was good, though, since they won’t be as close now. And I took some great landscape pictures to add to my portfolio.”
“Well, I’m glad to have you back, Tarsier,” I said, needing to stay in the convo and to rile her up with the nickname. “Mer was losing her mind without you, and that was driving me crazy, so …”
Mer let out a huff and picked up a pen to doodle in the same notebook as Celia. After a moment, Celia finally lifted her head from the hand it was resting on and looked up at me.
Holy shit.
I inhaled sharply, trying my best to play it off with a sputtered laugh/cough. How was it possible she’d gotten hotter in a couple of months? She’d certainly spent some time in the sun because those tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks had darkened up, demanding more attention. Her lips were parted, the lower plump one jutting out all pouty like. And those eyes. Those fucking bright-green rimmed hazel doe eyes of hers stared at me as if she knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Caleb,” she replied, arching her brows in irritation. “So happy my return will make your life easier. Maybe you can reciprocate by ditching that oh-so-flattering nickname that wore out its laughs last year, one day after you so kindly bestowed it upon me.”
“Not a chance,” I said instantly with a smirk. Oh how I loved getting under her skin. Much more fun than irritating Mer or her other hanger friends. Celia’s reactions? Those were like pb&j, sunshine, and woodworking—I lived for them. “Things wouldn’t be the same.”
“I can handle that kinda change,” she retorted with a tilt of her head.
I coughed again and looked down at the book, needing an escape from those eyes. I loved every second they were on me, but today they were more intense than ever, making my thoughts wander, making things heat up all over. I pulled my shirt bottom out again, this time for a flash of cool air on my skin. “So what are you doing? School doesn’t start for a week, nerds.” Damn me to hell, I had to be closer. So I dropped to the ground and reached for the notebook.
“Nerds?” Mer replied with an audible pfft as she snatched the book back. “You’re one to talk, Honor Boy.”
Celia chuckled, the tone a sharpened lollipop—sweet but lethal.
“I know you’re jealous of my intelligence, hater. But seriously, what’s this?” They were up to something, and I wanted in.
“If you must know,” Celia said, cutting those eyes to me, “your daredevil of a sibling has decreed that we create a senior year bucket list.”
“Bucket list, huh? Like there’s something or someone Mer hasn’t already done?” I said, and they both glared at me.
“Now who’s the hater?” Mer snapped.
“Okay, okay. I’ll bite. What exactly is making this list?”
“Sure, there are some things I’ve done, but Celia hasn’t—”
“You don’t say,” I interrupted with a chuckle.
Celia’s face reddened. Her eyes dropped to the book, and she choked the pen as if she were imagining a grip around my neck instead. Crap. Maybe that was too far.
Mer huffed a breath. “Get t
he fuck out. Don’t you have to get a shower and go hang with Sadie or Shirley or whoever your date is?”
“Shit,” I whispered.
Mer laughed. “What a charmer.”
“I would have remembered …” Had I not been sidetracked by the pair of baby blue Chucks downstairs. Celia bit her lips together and scratched another star onto the page. “It’s Sophie,” I added, feeling the need to explain for some reason. “And her dad ordered a dining set and hutch.”
“So what? You telling me your part-time job at the shop includes turning tricks for pimp daddy Dad?” Mer laughed again then deepened her voice. “Tell you what, for an extra benji, I’ll throw in a date with ma boy.”
“Funny,” I admitted, keeping my eyes on Celia’s doodle progress. Star. Scribble fill. Tap. Tap. Tap. “No. She asked me, so I figured why not. If she has the guts to do that she might—”
“Put out?” Mer spat incredulously.
“No! Damn, Mer! She might be worth a chance. I think she’s … nice. She’s a sophomore. Not sure if she’s my type yet.” I pushed up from the floor and flipped onto my ass, kicking my feet out and leaning back onto my hands. “Just drop it.”
After a few moments, Celia broke the silence. And even though I knew it was more likely meant to dismiss me than to save me, I stayed put, too curious about their plans to leave.
“So what are your ideas?” she asked Mer, tapping the pen to the page again.
Mer swiveled the book toward herself, wrote out Senior Year Bucket List quickly on the cover, then flipped it back open to the lined page. “We take notes on each task to keep track of progress. No need to do them in order. Variations of each task might be counted depending on the situation.” She switched from marker to pen and started writing numbers down the left margin. “I can’t think of any other rules right now.”
“Sounds okay to me. I’ll start,” Celia said, her voice climbing a little with excitement. “Skip day.”
“Tradition for senior year. That’s a given,” Mer replied, starting to write. “Crash a party.”
“Ooh. Going big, are we?” I said with a whistle. “How about something more daring, like jumping off Eagle’s Nest. We haven’t done that one yet.”
“True,” she admitted, writing it down.
“I thought that limestone quarry closed because that one kid died?” Celia asked. “Also, it’s a bit farther out of town. We’d have to ask someone for a ride if we have any issues borrowing our parents’ cars. I know my mom will probably monitor the mileage I rack on hers. And I’m not sure how I feel about others joining in.” The last part was a murmur. She wasn’t exactly one to put on a show, so unlike Mer.
“That was a rumor from years ago. People still go.” Mer shrugged. “And, I forgot to tell you the good news! Mom recently upgraded and handed over her ancient Corolla, so I’m in business. The boundaries for this list are not as tight.”
“You mean we’re in business.” I checked her. Of course she would fail to mention the car deal included me. “They said we’re both using it.”
“For school and activities, maybe. But if I get a job, and if dad eventually gives you the old POS truck … Also, you aren’t part of this. Go away.”
“Dad may never surrender The Beast. And what do you mean I’m not part of it? Why?” I asked with my best sad-dog face. There was no way I wasn’t.
Celia looked up, her lips curving at the same time. “You’re not a senior.” Her thin finger tapped the word at the top of the page for emphasis.
“True, but I refuse to miss out. I can already tell it’s going to be amazing-ly dumb, especially if you all keep adding boring crap.”
Celia’s mouth popped open at my description, and Mer chucked her hairy pink pillow at me, which I caught with my hands … and my face.
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Mer said. “We’ll do some epic shit without you.”
“Won’t happen,” I replied, spitting out some pink hair before tucking the pillow behind my head and falling back onto the floor to sprawl. I knew Mer would fill in more adventurous tasks eventually, but I needed to be in on it all. Boundaries would be pushed, comfort zones crushed, and many first-times conquered, and I was all about that. Especially when it involved Celia, Ms. Inhibited herself. There was something thrilling about cracking the shell of a shy little egg. Maybe it was the process, seeing the raw emotion with each new crack. Or maybe it was the anticipation of the final reveal, what would be unleashed in the end.
“Get drunk,” Celia added, making my mouth pop open this time. She wasn’t the typical party type. Mer had dragged her to a few, but as far as I knew she stuck to drinks from the virgin variety or held a keg beer to fend off the offers until it was time to escort Mer home. So yeah, color me shocked. Those eyes were on me again and she arched a brow. She was happy with my reaction. Interesting. Maybe the egg was ready to break.
She tipped her head and added, “Get lost.”
“Yeah, get lost, Caleb.”
“I think that was for the list,” I corrected Mer.
“That was for both,” Celia replied to me, but turned her attention back to the book, some hair slipping the hold of her ear and falling in front of her cheek with a gentle caress.
Gentle caress? Wtf? I was losing it. Getting back on track, I said, “Ouch. But at least those ideas are a little better.”
“Okay, smart-ass.” Mer scribbled down more words. “How about climb the water tower? Get a tattoo.”
“Hell yeah, now we’re talking,” I said, watching Celia’s flinch.
“Good luck with that one, Caleb. I’m already legal. Celia only has a few months. But you have over a year.” Mer laughed.
Celia chose not to comment on either the tattoo idea or Mer’s verbal slap to my ego. But she did recover, choosing to add another task instead. “Kiss someone at the top of a Ferris wheel.”
“Oh nice! I like that.” Mer scribbled more words. “Kiss in the rain too. And maybe kiss a stranger.”
I rolled my eyes and faked a yawn. “Enough with that girly shit.”
Mer threw the pen at me. “Get out. This is ours, not yours. Go get ready for your nice sophomore.”
Despite wanting to hang out longer, I knew she was right. About the date thing, not their list. I would definitely be involved in that. “Yeah, I better go.” I hopped to my feet only to freeze. It took a moment before I realized I was waiting for Celia to look at me again, waiting for one more hit from those hypnotizing eyes. Shit. I was losing it. I’d always enjoyed when she was at our house, had fun messing with her—scaring her, teasing her. But it wasn’t until that pause that I knew exactly how much.
Her absence for most of the summer hadn’t bothered me. The return, though. It was like a kick in the teeth, heart, and dick all at the same time. Unreal.
3
______________
Celia
-now-
“Girl, if you don’t turn that damn phone off, I’ll be forced to switch your margarita order to an Uber,” Nadine said, waving her pointed and polished neon orange nails between my crouched face and the screen I had resting on the table edge.
“What? Are you too cool for us now?” Mina added, bringing my already unfocused eyes upward for the first time in several minutes, the bright red and white strip lights along the dropped ceiling behind her making me blink.
The bar area of our favorite TGI Friday’s was packed. All bar booth tables full, and most of the bar stools too. Another Friday at Friday’s. I giggled to myself.
“You barely spoke at work all week, your eyes have been on that thing since we got here, and you just sucked that drink down like you haven’t had liquid all day. You’re so focused on the screen, you’ve made Mr. Hot Bartender frown when he tried to snag your attention. I’m not waiting for the food to arrive for you to dish,” Nadine urged.
Mina, Deandra, and Julie all nodded in agreement across the table from us.
They were my work crew. My ride-or-dies. Well, my ride-or-dies t
wo nights a month at the most because all were over thirty-five, two married, three with kids. And I … I was the early-twenties introvert whose coworkers included her despite their age difference, interest differences, and all-around life differences. They were licensed insurance agents or underwriters who needed a ladies’ night to get away from both office work and homework, involving something a little stiffer than the wine they cooked family meals with. I was the happy loner who needed to get out every now and then so she didn’t feel like a total loser. It worked out. And it was why they’d been my closest friends since I started working at Pearson Insurance as a file clerk my freshmen year in college.
They all stared at me with the judgy eyes they normally reserved for my jerky division manager Jerry.
“What?” I asked, my head feeling lighter as I looked at them again, then tipped my glass back to drink whatever bit of water the ice had melted into inside the last sixty seconds. Where the hell was that second ’rita?
There were audible exhales of irritation—also usually reserved for Jerry, and maybe Fran, the big boss’ bitch-ass secretary. Oh, wow, my tipsy thoughts had moved from melancholy to pissy real quick.
Nadine leaned her broad shoulder to mine, pinning a few of her long box braids between us as she tapped a pointed nail to my screen. She was the urger. The voice of reason at work. The one who spread her gentle toffee wings and tucked me under them, but who also knew exactly when to shove me from the tree. “Who’s got you fucked up? We know it’s not Booty Call Brent.” Someone giggled, and she shushed them with a quick breath. “As much as we’d like you to be done with that fuckboy … It’s something else, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you see in him,” Mina said, backtracking a bit to stay with the juicy Brent topic because she liked to spill the tea but kept her interest low-key enough to be tolerable. She ran her long, self-tanned, and ringless fingers through her straight black strands then tossed a glance toward the bar to see if anyone picked up her “I’m single” show.
Senior Year Bucket List Page 2