by Sally Henson
“These are my cousins from Chicago. Giovanni,” she motions to the guy to her right. He raises his hand in a wave and holds a beer in the other. “And Marco.” She gestures to the dude on her left. He raises his beer. They look Italian, darker complexion and hair. This Marco looks familiar.
I move closer to shake the guys’ hands.
“Lane, you go to Eastern, right?” Marco’s northern accent is strong.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“You look familiar, I think I've seen you around campus.” Marco rubs his chin.
I raise my head and take a step back. “Yeah?”
“What hall do you live in?” Marco and I have a little conversation about dorms and campus.
All the while Stacey fawns all over me. It’s really annoying, but Regan wants to keep us a secret, so … I kind of let her.
I keep my hands shoved in my pockets to avoid putting my hands on her.
Stacey peeks back at Regan and the gang. She giggles and starts rubbing my chest.
Regan’s mumbling something behind me that I can’t make out. My chest burns. I shouldn’t have turned away from her earlier. With Stacey fumbling all over me, I can barely focus on what Marco’s saying, let alone what Regan is.
Stacey’s body mashes against me and I flinch. My arms swing wide while my feet move backward on their own accord. Stacey worms her way under my arm, sliding her sweaty fingers between mine, as she curls my arm around her.
My eyes dart back and forth between her and Marco.
Marco shrugs as if her behavior is normal and keeps talking.
Ugh. My face scrunches. I’m not sure I can take this.
Regan pops up next to Stacey. “Hi, Giovanni.”
Marco stops talking as soon as he sees her.
She wiggles her fingers at them. “I'm Regan, Marco. It's nice to meet you.”
“So, you're Regan.” Marco smiles a Cheshire grin.
A silent growl rumbles through my burning chest.
“Stacey, I didn't know you had Italian in your blood.” Regan’s voice is sweet, but the look she shoots me, definitely not sweet.
Giovanni closes the gap between them. “She's much more beautiful than your colorful description of her, cousin.” His eyes roam all over her.
The fingers in my free hand curl into a ball.
“The Music Mutts! That’s where I’ve seen you.”
Marco startles me.
“Ted’s bar last weekend when the Music Mutts played.” Marco reveals something I have yet to tell Regan about.
My gut caves as if he’s punched me. Crap! I try not to, but I glance at Regan.
Her shoulders slump over as her head swivels toward me, but she won’t look me in the eyes.
I separate myself from Stacey and fold my arms across my chest.
Regan breathes out a deep sigh. The sound must have ripped some of the tissue from my lungs because it burns to breathe now.
“You were there?” I cough out, choking on my words.
“Hey listen, Stacey.” Regan turns on her charm. “It's great to meet your cousins, but it's not a good idea for you to be drinking here. Mr. Bridlow has been known to pepper people with his shotgun for things he finds less offensive than underage drinking.” She heaps burning coals of sweetness on Stacey. “I don't think your cousins would enjoy that too much.”
Their eyes round as they look at each other. I chuckle on the inside and puff up with pride how Regan handles this.
Stacey turns on Regan and blurts out, “Mr. Bridlow’s not going to shoot us, Regan.”
Regan leans back, turning her head away. Her nose scrunches as if Stacey has dragon breath.
I let out a stifled snicker. “It's true; he’s shot at people before.”
Marco doesn't miss a beat. “It was a pleasure meeting all of you.” He raises his beer around to everyone as a goodbye and hooks Stacey's arm. That signals to his brother to get into the car.
Giovanni winks at Regan before he turns to leave.
“See you around campus.” Marco nods to me.
Stacey slips out of Marco’s grasp, clinging to my arm. Regan pries Stacey’s bony fingers off, but then she wraps herself around my waist. Her cousins are in the car waiting for her, but she refuses to let go. My eyes are wide, arms raised so they’re not touching Stacey.
Regan throws her arms up, mumbling under her breath.
Stacey starts in on Regan, rubbing her nose in the fact that Stacey has her arms around me. It’s almost as if Stacey’s taunting Regan, tempting her to come out about us. I’m in shock over what’s going on. Stacey full-on body presses me.
Heat rises up my neck to my cheeks. My eyes connect with Regan’s. Her eyes glaze with moisture, looking like she caught me cheating on her. Right as I’m pushing Stacey off me, Regan turns and walks away. My mind whirls in circles. What just happened? “Let’s get you in the car,” I whisper to Stacey while I put my arm around her.
Faint gasps and mumbling surround me. I ignore them and basically drag Stacey to the car, shoving her in and slamming the door.
Cam and Rex meet me as I walk up to the fire. Tobi’s squatting next to Regan. I can’t tell what she’s saying, but Tobi’s face is pained.
The guys are talking about how crazy Stacey is, but all I hear is the bitter laugh that comes out of Regan. I rub my forehead and swipe my hand down my face. I want to roar out my frustration.
Regan belts out, “Stacey Faniger is definitely not intimidated by me. She’s constantly spewing lies that I’m screwing Cam or Lane or Paul or whoever. That’s not intimidation.”
“Alcohol is her false courage.” Haylee moves a chair right next to Regan’s and sits down.
Tonight was going … it was the best. I close my eyes and think about her kisses. Everything was going perfect, our parents haven’t found out, Cam was keeping his mouth shut, Regan thought everything was great, until I let it slip that Cam and Haylee knew about us. My lower back aches something terrible. I need to sit down, and there’s an open chair across the fire from Regan.
She has her shivering body curled up in the chair across from me. I stare at her, hoping she says something—anything. She glares right back at me. Two words and I’d be over there in a flash, warming her in my shirt.
Tobi sees her shivering, too. “Regan, you cold?”
“A little.” Her eyes never leave me when she replies.
Tobi looks at me and then to Regan, shakes her head, and says something to Rex before they escape my vision.
The fire isn’t even a fire anymore, it’s a few coals. Not even enough heat to melt the sole of my shoes. She’s so stubborn. I should go over there anyway, without her asking, and offer to warm her up. Maybe she doesn’t want me to.
She stands and makes her way toward me. My muscles release and I didn’t even realize they were coiled up.
I sit up a little straighter to make room for her to sit with me.
“Would you mind taking me home?” Her voice is quiet and even. It cuts me to pieces.
I look up at her and the back to the coals. My heart falls silent. That’s not what I was expecting. I nod and stand to say goodbye to the gang.
She’s in the truck waiting for me when I open the door, glued to the passenger door, as far away from me as she can get. I crank the engine and take off. I’m tempted to keep the heat off and crack my window on the way home, just to make her say something.
“Are you going to give me the silent treatment all the way home?”
She stares out her window. “My mom taught me if I didn’t have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all.”
“My mom taught me to talk it out.” I watch her out of the corner of my eye to see if she looks my way. Nope.
I’m not going to grovel, even if my gut’s all tensed up, telling me to. So, I didn’t tell her I watched Ross’s band play after work last weekend. It’s not like I lied to her. Grrr.
You kept it from her on purpose, jerk-face. Just like you’re keeping the fac
t that Johanna’s in your Comp. class a secret.
I pull in her drive and park.
She has the door open before I can turn the headlights or ignition off. “Thanks for the ride.” She shuts the door and walks away.
That’s it? My nostrils flare. Fine!
I take off to my house, gripping the steering wheel and gritting my teeth until it hurts. The truck fishtails around every corner. Rocks clank under the truck body, hitting metal, flying in all directions. My fist pounds the steering wheel as soon as I hit the paved road. Argh!
By the time I reach the lane to my house, I’m driving too fast and overshoot the entrance. I crank the steering wheel, causing the back end to run through the ditch. Dirt slings up behind the tires, cutting tracks in the yard. Dad’s not going to be happy about that.
I shove the gear shift into park and let my head fall back against my seat. It’s probably a good idea to cool off before I go inside.
It’s your own fault.
I take a deep breath, drag myself into the house, and go straight to bed.
My window’s cracked. I like to hear the crickets and tree frogs at night, and the cool breeze brings a crisp, clean, outdoors smell in my room. I don’t get to hear that at school. Usually, a night like tonight, I can go right to sleep, but it’s not working yet. I lie on my back with my hands behind my head, trying to unwind. My lower back finally releases and I turn on my side.
My mind is speeding through the events from tonight. I try to force myself to think about hunting, baseball, football, anything other than tonight. My back seizes up again, and I flop over to my back. When I can’t stand it any longer, I try my stomach. I twist and turn like a gator rolling in the water. My gut still hasn’t recovered from Marco, from Stacey.
My eyes pop open. Regan.
18
Regan
The nocturnal creatures aren’t doing a very good job tonight. Another bead of moisture streams down my cheek. I sniff and wipe tears from my skin with the soft sheet. My body is all knots inside and out.
A prickle of goosebumps surfaces on the back of my neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. It moves down my spine. Slowly, I scan across my room to check the door. It’s still closed; no one’s there.
“Regan?”
I jump, and gasp. My heart flies against my chest. I whip my head toward the window.
Lane’s face pops up and peeks through the screen. “Regan, it’s me.” His voice is a whisper.
I’m breathless and can’t even respond. My hands press against my chest, trying to calm my heart that’s beating out of control. I drop back onto my mattress, clutching my shirt over my heart.
“Come outside,” he pleads.
I crawl to the window. “What are you doing here? You scared me.”
He presses his hand against the screen. “Come out, please.” His voice is soft, beckoning.
When he talks like that … it melts my resolve. I press my hand to his on the screen. “Give me a minute.”
I pull on a pair of yoga pants, glancing at my clock. My parents should be sound asleep. I crack open my door to make sure no one’s stirring. It’s clear.
Lane pulls the door open when I turn the knob of the back door. The cool air washes over my face. I should be warm enough.
Lane’s hair is pointing in every direction. Eyes droopy, he’s even wearing pajama pants with his rubber boots. I almost laugh out loud at his pant legs—one tucked in his boot, one scrunched up.
I shut the door quietly. I’m so glad he came. I hate fighting with him.
“Why didn’t you use my sweatshirt if you were cold earlier? Or ask me to warm you up like you always do?”
My chin drops to my chest, igniting a torch inside me. I spin on my heel, narrowing my eyes to respond to his ridiculous question. “Seriously?” I drag him out to the shed, away from the house. “Why didn’t you ask me if I was cold? You clearly saw me sitting there, shivering. And why would I ask you for anything after your cute little display of affection for Stacey, my arch enemy? At least you could have the decency to humiliate me with a girl who’s, who’s … not Stacey. And in front of our friends?” I turn away from him, shaking my head. My stomach twists in knots and the fire deteriorates into heartbreak. I lean my back against the back of Mom’s Jeep, folding my arms in front of me.
He sighs. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't want to look at him. “You didn't want me touching you after we left the barn.” I hear him move closer to me.
“I didn't want to give Stacey any fuel for her gossip inferno.” I push out an angry, bitter sneer. “A lot of good that did me. Now she has something even better than gossip.” My stomach turns. I never thought he’d ever encourage Stacey’s efforts.
Lane leans beside me. I refuse to look at him. “I didn’t know what to do when she latched onto me like that. I thought if I hugged her back I could walk her to the car and get her in, so they’d leave.”
I laugh at his lousy excuse. “You looked right at me while the two of you became Siamese twins.” I swallow down the bile that’s inching up from that image. It’s etched on my brain, never to be forgotten. “Were you just giving me lip service when we were making out in the barn?” I mock his words, “I love holding you close to me. My arms were made to hold you.” I take two steps and lean against the frame of the shed, tugging at my shirt sleeves. The thought of his lies turns my stomach.
His eyes drop to the gravel between us before he runs his hands through his crazy hair. “I missed you. I’m tired of sneaking around and just want to be together without hiding.”
A stabbing pain shoots through my chest. “I thought you had to work last weekend and I find out from Stacey’s cousin you’re hanging out at the bars? You call that missing me?”
He shakes his head, his mouth pulled in a thin line.
I puff out a scoff. “I mean I guess I should’ve seen right through that line of bullshit, but I didn’t expect it from my best friend.”
This pain in my chest is making it hard to breathe. And I don’t use that kind of language, but that’s exactly what this is.
He holds his hands out to me, reaching through the space between us. “I did have to work.”
These stupid tears, falling in a steady stream, make me look more pathetic than believing his lies. “I thought you’d at least always be truthful with me.” I stand and pretend to search the sky for … something, anything.
“It’s the truth. I do—” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “Nothing has changed the way I feel about you. You are the only one I want to hold in my arms.”
I narrow my eyes and sneer, “Susanna’s so right. Boys are liars.”
Lane crosses the short distance, grabs ahold of my waist, and tugs me close to him. His arms tighten around me. At first, I’m off balance and fall into him, but quickly push back against his shoulders. “Let go.”
He squeezes me tighter, pressing the side of his face into my shoulder. “It wasn’t a lie.”
“Then what’s going on, Lane? I saw it in your eyes. If you were trying to hurt me, it worked.”
He shakes his head against my body.
It takes all I’ve got to keep from losing it, and I’ll have to give up my fight to get out of his hold until I can get the waterworks back in submission.
“Regan.” His voice is as soft as his breath on my skin. “Are you ashamed to be more than friends with me?”
“What?” It kind of ticks me off he thinks I’m ashamed of him. But after tonight … “I’m ashamed of myself … for being such a fool.” Here come the tears again, but I don’t care anymore. My body slumps.
Lane looks at me. His eyes widen when he sees I’m crying and then softens. “I’m sorry.” He reaches one hand to wipe my tears away, but I turn my head and try to take a step away from him. He tightens his grip again. “I let Stacey do what she wanted because I wanted you to see how you were hurting me by pushing me away.”
My heart sinks deeper, tangling and strangli
ng itself in its own heartstrings. “What did I do?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew. The way Lane reacted when I pushed him away on the way back from the barn, I should have known. I mean, I literally and metaphorically pushed him away.
“You don’t even want our friends to see us together. It makes me feel like you’re ashamed of me or something.” He lets loose of me and slides down the front of the metal shed.
I close my eyes. Except for tonight, Lane has been a loving and kind gentleman that any girl would love to show off to the world. But how can I show him off as my boyfriend if my dad thinks he’s too old for me and doesn’t even think we should be friends?
I slide down the metal siding of the shed and squat beside him. “That’s crazy, I’m not ashamed of you. But you’re going around behind my back and blabbing about us. What if Dad finds out?”
“Our friends deserve to know. We shouldn’t have to pretend around them. Maybe you don’t want to say anything because you have feelings for Cam.” He stretches his legs out, crossing his ankles.
“Cam? Please. That’s ridiculous.” I sigh and straighten my legs to stand back up, viewing the night sky through the trees limbs above. We shouldn’t have to hide from our friends. He’s right; I’m just afraid. “Did you work last weekend or did you just want to stay at Eastern?”
“I had to work, Regan. I went to watch Ross’s band after work Saturday. I should have told you, but I didn’t want you jumping to conclusions. Like tonight.”
The song of the crickets takes center stage. That and my pride crumbling about rule number three.
“Let’s not do this to each other.” He's hurting, I can hear it in his voice. Tears build up on my bottom eyelids, blurring my vision.
I try to keep the tears on their ledge. “You said everything would be the same between us, but you want more.”
“You want more, too.” His fingers clasp my wrist and he pulls me down, settling me on his outstretched legs.
Though I’m trying to fight it, I swear I feel sparks flying as our auras collide, causing my eyes to close.