Three Summers

by S. J. Sylvis

  Twenty-Two

  It’s been two weeks since Rowen and I have started up again and I can’t say that my mind and heart are on talking terms. It’s like my heart is lapping up the feeling Rowen gives me just as a dog laps up water after a hot day in the sun. Then my mind, she’s cowering in the back of the classroom like a student who doesn’t want to be picked by the teacher. The rational part of my mind is scared to death that Rowen is going to leave me again, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick myself up. This time with us is so unlike the last time. It’s much more powerful than our little high school love.

  We’ve had several more dates together. Nothing as elaborate as the first date, per se but each one still makes my heart flutter. Sometimes we just talk after work, hanging out on the bed of his truck in the parking lot of the club, stealing simple touches and hot and heavy make-out sessions, and a few times we probably could have gotten charged with indecent exposure crimes. But we still haven’t had sex, which is a huge step to take. I want to speed things up but at the same time, the more I get intimate with him, the more I fall for him—so here I am, teetering over the edge of the Grand Canyon. Trying to grab onto the rusty copper boulders like they’re a lifeline.

  The entire town knows about us now. It was only a matter of time before the old ladies that cluster together at Joe’s coffee patio every morning knew. They’re the pot-stirrers of this town: gossiping about the latest fling between couples, who stole the town flag, that kind of stuff. Crazy old bats, if you ask me. They started on us the second we took the final step and went out in public, holding hands. Yes, holding hands—big whoop, huh? Well, according to Mrs. Silinsky it was a big freaking deal. Even my parents mentioned it.

  “I see you and Rowen are taking the next step… ” my dad had grumbled under his coffee. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

  “Oh, stop it hun. They’re in their twenties, they’re adults. Let them make their own decisions.” My mom winked at me from a distance and I mouthed a simple “thank you.”

  Of course, Rowen’s parents are fine with the pair of us starting up again. His parents always liked me, and hey, I didn’t go around stomping all over Rowen’s heart. We still don’t feel the need to hang out at one of our houses. I told him it made me feel like I was in high school again, and he agreed. Although, I know he’s just happy with not having to see my dad.

  “Hey, Sadie. I’m gonna go. Can you lock up after the Kerry’s leave?” I bluntly roll my eyes at the Kerry’s sloowwwy packing up their gear. They are, by far, the slowest freaking people on the planet. I half think they do it on purpose. They like seeing “the help” have to wait around for them. Mrs. Kerry comes to the pool every single day, and every single day, she is decked out in some different, sparkly diamond necklace, an enormous black sunhat and a skimpy one-piece bathing suit. (You know, the kind that forms a V in between her breasts to her belly button). She waves her children off and goes on to reading her magazine, all while sipping leisurely on a margarita. She’s high-class, that’s for sure.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll lock up.” I don’t bother telling Sash I’m using the showers to get ready again. I don’t think we’re really supposed to use these showers to actually shower with shampoo and all that good-smelling stuff. They’re built to wash off the chlorine and that’s it, but I can’t very well go into the clubhouse and use those showers. I’m not a member, remember?

  When the Kerry’s finally get their things and leave, I go over and clean up the rest of their mess. Dispose of the sticky ice cream wrappers, take the empty margarita glass to the concessions area, and wipe down their table. Then I hear a voice.

  “I like that angle,” Rowen quips, raising an eyebrow, and I give him a death stare. Except really, I’m blooming on the inside. Maybe these bathing suits aren’t so bad after all.

  “Are you ready?” he says, as he walks up from behind me, taking the rag and finishing cleaning the table.

  “No, not even close. I need to shower. Will you keep watch?” He leans around me, wrapping his bare hands on my wet suit. The butterflies flutter all over my skin. No matter how many times he leans in to kiss me, I still get all flushed and nervous.

  “Of course.” He pecks me on the cheek and follows me to the shower, leaning against the outside entrance as I grab my things. I walk barefoot on the white and blue tile floor; it’s a pretty extravagant locker room with its crystal white tiled walls and light blue accents, especially considering it’s only for washing the pool grime off your body.

  I almost feel a little scandalous shimmying out my bathing suit while Rowen is a simple ten feet from me, propped up against the door. He’s there and here I am, naked and basically wanting to invite him in to join me. I shake my head and tell myself it’s too soon, even though my hormones are saying something different. I step into the scalding hot shower and take a deep breath, letting the water cascade down my body, relieving my pent-up nerves. Once I go to reach for my shampoo, I mouth, “Shit.” I forgot it in my bag and I definitely need it or else this shower will be pointless. My hair will still smell like chlorine, and I don’t want to smell like chlorine. I want to look and smell as good as Rowen does, all washed and devour-able.

  “Rowen?” I yell out, while peeking my head away from the water running into my mouth.

  “Yeah? You okay?” he yells back.

  “I’m fine, but I forgot my shampoo in my bag; can you grab it and bring it? The bag is by the door.” Before he can step in here, I also yell, “But close your eyes when you come in here. There aren’t curtains.” These are not private showers, like I said; they’re only here to wash off the chlorine.

  I hear him chuckle. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but we’re on a different playing field now. My breasts are fuller than when I was that tiny seventeen-year-old girl. I have more curves, and I look like a woman. I’m not ready for him to see me yet. I want to be ready, I want to be in sexy lingerie; I want it to be planned… I think.

  “Okay, I’m coming in.”

  When I see him walking into the locker room, holding my strawberry shampoo in one hand, I let out a little laugh. He has his other hand slapped across his face, covering his eyes. He walks in the direction of the sound of the water and I say, “A few steps to the right,” hiding my snicker. His foot hits the wall and he grunts.

  “Stop messing with me or I’ll uncover my eyes.” I roll my eyes and glower at the tiny voice in the back of my head saying, “Do it.”

  He walks a few more feet towards me and says, “It’s taking every bit of willpower that I have to keep my eyes shut… ” My heart starts beating even faster in my chest as I take the bottle from his hand, our fingers just barely skimming. He turns back around, facing the direction of the door, and un-prys his hand from his face. He walks a few feet as I pour my pink shampoo in my hand, letting the air fill with the smell of sweet strawberries. I rub the shampoo through my hair and stare at his back, feeling the intense desire between the two of us.

  “That smells the exact same as it did three years ago. Sweet… ” His voice is hoarse and his back is rigid. I don’t say anything as I wash the shampoo out of my hair.

  The time it takes me to wash my hair seems excruciatingly long. He doesn’t move the entire time and then I suddenly feel bold. “Rowen… ” He turns around in a flash and walks over to me, grabbing my slippery torso and putting his forehead to mine, barely glancing down at my exposed body. The water is pouring over the two of us and he inhales sharply, taking in my strawberry shampoo.

  “You know, every time I smelled any type of strawberry scent, I wanted to bang my fist against a wall. Even the mere glimpse of a strawberry would drive me insane. I couldn’t keep the memories away, no matter how fucking hard I tried. Every single thing reminded me of you. Everything.”

  I stayed silent, only nodding my head against his, because it was the same for me. Everything reminded me of him or of some type of memory. The boy in my Public Speaking class that would shake his hair out
of habit… Rowen. The smell of freshly cut grass… Rowen. A deep, musky scent… Rowen. Everything screamed Rowen.

  Rowen’s hands trail up my bare back and I arch out of reaction, feeling his wet shirt on my breasts. How badly, I wish that he were bare-chested like me. I step up on my tiptoes and place my mouth on his, sensually and full of passion. My chest rises and falls with every stroke of his tongue. He dips his mouth down to my neck; I move it slightly to the right to allow more access. I can feel myself melting beneath his touch. I feel myself coming undone, just with his lips on my slick body. Maybe it’s the water, maybe it’s something in the air, but I can feel myself trembling.

  I reach my hands under his shirt and pull the wet, heavy material away from his body. I run my fingers down his abs as his trail down past my belly button. I follow his cue and just as I’m reaching my hand into his shorts, I hear a woman’s laugh coming from near the door. My head snaps that direction and Rowen quickly spurs into action. He turns the water off, throws my towel at me, and gathers my bag, all while dragging me into the far bathroom stall. I wanted to laugh so hard. (It was one of those moments where you know you shouldn’t laugh and you should actually be quite nervous but the bubbling laugh inside of you desperately wants to come out—that was me, in this moment.) I snicker, unable to hold it together, and Rowen looks like he is going to bust at the seams, smashing his lips together and clenching his eyes. He covers my mouth and shakes his head “no” at me. I suddenly stop laughing, as I can still feel my desire to undress him the rest of the way, even in this tiny bathroom stall. We’d been interrupted and as much as I should be afraid that we are gonna get caught, I just want to do it all over again. When Rowen’s eyes meet mine for the second time, I can still see the desire swirling in them. I lick my lips, almost reaching up to get a taste, again.

  “Are you sure no one will come in here?” a woman says. I can tell she’s an older woman; her voice is one laced with sophistication. It’s a woman whose heels are clicking on the wet tile.

  “I promise.” I hear Sash’s voice and I meet Rowen’s wide-eyed expression. I know my my face has to mimic his, as I feel my own eyes grow large.

  “You promise what… ?” The women’s voice is dripping with sex and I cannot believe what I am hearing.

  “I promise, Mrs. Richards… ma’am.” My mouth opens up and I swear I could swallow the entire world. Rowen puts his finger to my lips, shushing me.

  This woman, is the club owner’s wife. The wife of a man who is probably the richest person in this entire city, hell, maybe even this entire state. They have four kids, who are all teenagers—meaning that Mrs. Richards is definitely in her forties. Holy crap! Sash is having an affair with the club owner’s wife, and you know how I know that? Because I can hear the smacking of lips and audible moans coming from her mouth.

  “Why is it wet in here?” she says, out of breath. I put my hand over my mouth, to keep myself from gasping out loud.

  “I guess someone showered before leaving.”

  “Ugh, disgusting. Let’s go somewhere dry. I don’t want my hair ruined.” I roll my eyes and almost snicker, but Rowen’s rough hand covers my mouth and he has on a small smile, holding in his laugh.

  “Come on, hottie.” she says, and I shut my eyes so hard to keep myself from hearing anything else, although that doesn’t work because I hear with my ears, not my eyes. The second I hear her giggles become distant, Rowen’s hand leaves my mouth and I literally lose it. I crack up so hard that my stomach cramps.

  “Oh my God!” I say, through another fit of laughter. I grip the towel I have around my body, just so it doesn’t fall off with my incessant cackling.

  Rowen shakes his wet hair, spraying my face and says, “What a fucking night.” I meet his stare and we crack up a little bit longer, all while sneaking out of the bathroom stall. I throw my clothes on fast, watching Rowen’s gaze linger over my most intimate parts. I know that look, I remember him drinking me up when we were younger, although this look is filled with much more desire. The desire of a man. I’m thankful that Sash flipped the lights off; that way Rowen can’t see just how much he affects me.

  “Camping?” I exclaim. “But Alicia is coming down for your party!”

  Rowen, Kyle, and I are hanging out at the football stadium, our old hangout spot (minus Samantha). We all used to sneak out here, climb the metal football stands, sit up at the very top, overlooking the town’s lights flashing and drink whatever kind of beer we’d brought. Normally it would be the cheapest thing we could get their hands on. I didn’t usually drink, which led them to calling me, “Goody Two-Shoes. Everyone but Rowen called me that. He’d snarl in their direction and tell them I didn’t have to drink if I didn’t want to. But tonight, I’m totally drinking. After all, it’s legal now.

  “Relax, it’s still a party. It’s just out at my parents’ lake house.” Kyle retaliates.

  “Oh, okay then. Good.” Alicia is coming tomorrow night and I guess instead of going to Kyle’s fancy rich house, we’re going to the lake instead. I quickly grab my phone and tell her to bring a bathing suit and bug spray and she sends me back a thumbs up emoticon followed by another emoticon that shows a girl with her hands up in confusion.

  “So, tell me more about this Alicia.” Kyle intones while Rowen grabs my tiny waist, snuggling my body in between his.

  “Alicia is amazing. She’s kind-hearted but also a little wild. She’s never on time, for anything… ” Rowen laughs and responds, “Which probably drives you crazy.” I purse my lips, but he’s right.

  Kyle chuckles, “Okay, but what does she look like? Show me a picture.” I grab my phone and scroll through the million pictures I have of Alicia and I, stopping at a snapshot of us from one of the football games. I pick this one because it shows just how beautiful she is. Sure, I could have shown him the one from Halloween when she was dressed like a slutty nurse, but in this one, she looks beautiful. Her dark-olive skin is glowing under the stadium lights and she’s laughing at something I said. Her bright jade eyes are shining against the dark contrast of her skin and hair. She has that perfect hair. The kind every single girl wishes she had; shiny and perfectly wavy. I used to get so envious when she’d wake up, fluff her fingers through her hair and look just as good as the night before.

  I don’t even remember who took the picture as I stare at it longer. I’m in it with her and then I feel my eyes widen a little. It’s not just a picture of Alicia and I; Library Boy is in it, too, holding my hand. I look over at Rowen and watch as his gaze zeros in on the hand-holding. I feel his knees shift a little and he instantly goes stiff. Kyle mumbles something like, “Hot damn, she’s attractive,” but he also feels the shift in the air. All of a sudden, I feel like I’m in trouble. Like Rowen has just caught me doing the neighbor or something. But, that can’t be right because he and I were nothing last year. I was simply trying to find myself (read as: trying to get Rowen out of my system).

  “And I’m out… ” Kyle jumps up, glancing between the pair of us. “See you two tomorrow.”

  With Kyle out of ear distance, I take in Rowen’s posture. He’s definitely mad, or upset. His jaw is clenched tight, muscles playing at the sides of his face. His fists are balled together and if I look closely enough, I can see his chest rising and falling quicker than normal beneath his blue shirt.

  “So, that’s what you were doing all year?” I close the picture on the phone, hearing it click, and I blink a few times, trying to figure out what to say.

  “Did you expect me not to see anyone else in the last three years that we’ve been apart?” My voice comes out ragged, full of emotion.

  “I don’t know what I expected.”

  “You can’t honestly tell me that you haven’t seen another girl since everything… ” As much as it pains me to say it, I know it’s true. He’s been with other girls. I know he has, otherwise he wouldn’t be have been so damn confident during our little sexual session in the shower the other night.

  “I’
ve seen other girls, Sadie.” My heart plummets. Ouch. “But none of them came even close to you.”

  I blurt, “And none of the guys came close to you… why do you think I came back to the club this year? I tried to date, I even had sex to try to rid you from my brain and guess what. It didn’t work.”

  His head whips to mine and I realize that I just told him I had sex with someone else. I feel like I’ve stepped over the imaginary line we drew for one another last year. My face instantly feels hot.

  “You had sex?” He accentuates the word “sex” and my face gets even hotter. Just slap on some bacon and it’ll be sizzling in no time.

  “Haven’t you?” His expression says it all. He looks away from me quickly, trying to hide the guilt.

  We don’t speak for a few minutes and I can’t decide what to say. I almost feel the guilt eating me alive that I actually had sex with someone I didn’t love, all to get rid of someone I did love.

  “I’m sorry.” I whisper and he quickly grabs my waist and pulls taut around his knees.

  “You shouldn’t be sorry. I led us to this.” That little devil on my shoulder is nodding her head. I scowl inwardly. “Plus, I wasn’t exactly a monk during the last three years.”

  “So, you’ve been with a lot of other girls?” I feel my heart cracking. Snap, crackle and pop. That’s my heart right now.

  “I had sex a lot that first year of school. I was trying to just stop thinking about you. The attack, leaving you, this… ” He reaches up and softly touches my now faded scar. “It didn’t work. It just made me crave you that much more.” I see the desire swarming in the air. Despite the conversation we’re having; I still just want him to pick me up and lay me flat on one of these bleacher benches and show me just how much he regrets the last three years.

  I whisper as softly as the wind is blowing, “I feel like the last three years have just been us going around in circles, destroying each other. Over and over again.”