Wickedly They Dream

by Cathrina Constantine

  After cramming the boxes into the trunk, Seeley turned to her father. “Dad, stop making me feel like a heel.” She wrapped an arm around his back, and in return, Henry mashed her to his side. “We can all go out for dinner sometime next week,” she added.

  Emily’s mouth twisted, saying, “In the city?”

  “Yes, in the city.” Seeley snickered, disengaging from her father’s embrace and stepping to the driver’s side of the car. “Geez, you’d think it was another continent the way you two guys are acting.”

  “You know your father won’t drive into the city,” Em returned.

  “Maybe next week I will.” His voice raised a decibel.

  Already parked behind the steering wheel, Seeley watched the departure scene as Jordan hugged her grandparents. Henry’s face fell, creating scads of wrinkles.

  “I hope you plan on visiting us often,” he said. “We’re used to a full house now.”

  Em directed a rueful glance at Seeley and Jordan. “It’ll be so quiet.”

  “Oh, please, you’re breaking my heart,” teased Seeley, speaking out of the window. “You make me feel like I’m kidnapping my own daughter. You can drive into the city everyday if you want.”

  “At my age?” said Henry. “I can’t handle that highway traffic anymore.”

  “See, I told you,” clucked Em, shaking her head.

  “We’ll figure something out, Mom.” Shifting the gears into reverse, Seeley waved goodbye.

  Jordan stuck her head out the window. “I’ll call tonight.”

  Flanked side-by-side, Henry and Em looked pitiful, like two lost puppies, and Jordon wanted to leap from the car.

  With the seatbelt chaffing her neck, she tugged the strap under her armpit. As they traveled farther and farther from Elma, she felt a heaviness gathering in her chest. Strumming through her head was her newest strategy of getting a job and purchasing a junkyard vehicle. Not simply to visit her grandparents, but to stay in a relationship with Thrill.

  “I wish I had the money to buy you a car.” Seeley sighed when Jordan had expressed her idea. “Now that I’m not working, I’m hesitant to ask Declan for the money. Maybe if you find a summer job, he’ll match what you save and get you a car before the fall semester. A lease would be good, I think. How about I ask him tonight at dinner?”

  Fall semester. “Yeah, that’d be great,” Jordan said, lacking enthusiasm.

  Disappointed, she’d been hoping for a car within the week. With her mom’s lighthearted chatter in the background, she reminisced about saying good-bye to her boyfriend.

  THRILL HAD INSISTED on a romantic getaway, at least for a few hours, without Paisley or Cayden—who’d insisted on a big send-off party. He’d picked Jordan up after dinner and drove to Hidden Lake. He’d opened the trunk, collecting a plaid blanket and a wicker basket.

  “Let me help,” she’d said, gathering the blanket and sidling next to him.

  They’d wandered toward the rusty bridge and noted two men in a wooden rowboat casting fishing lines into the lake. One man had signaled to the young couple, a friendly hand wave with a cockeyed grin. Thrill had reciprocated.

  Jordan had kept pace, hiking over the bridge and beyond. She’d sneaked a peek over her shoulder at the fisherman. He’d poked his friend and pointed to them, implying he was well aware of their make-out session.

  Birds winging from bough to bough had boisterously trilled when Thrill and Jordan had encroached upon their territory. Twigs had snapped underfoot as they’d made their way farther into the coppice, where it was cool and shady beneath sweet-scented pine trees.

  He’d halted at a bed of fertile green moss, laid the wicker basket on the ground, and reached for the blanket hanging over her arm. “This looks like a good spot.”

  Jordan had had an inkling that he’d trodden down this path many times before. She’d helped spread the plush blanket then knelt, wondering what he’d brought. “I just finished eating dinner. My grandmother cooked all day like it was going be my last meal for a lifetime. I’ll feel awful if you brought food in that basket.”

  He’d produced a bottle of wine and two cups. “I thought we’d indulge,” he’d said, showing her the wine label like a maître d.’ He must’ve noticed her wariness because he’d added, “Just a glass or two.”

  “You know I’ll be back whenever I can borrow the car from my mom. And then we still have Twisted Tour next week, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, but what if you hook up with a guy in the city and decide to move away for good?” He’d worked on uncorking the bottle, and then had poured a generous amount of red wine into a glass and offered it to her.

  “That won’t happen. I have you.” She’d smiled, seeing a downward tilt of his mouth. “I like Elma too much,” she’d rushed on. “Besides, we start our senior year in September. There’s no way I’d enroll in a new school. It was hard enough the first time.” She’d set the rim of the glass to her bottom lip and sniffed the heady wine. After taking the tiniest sip, she’d said, “M-m-m, not bad.”

  “Glad you like it.” He’d downed a liberal gulp then had looped his arm over her shoulders while pulling her into his chest.

  He’d lifted her chin with his fingers smelling of aftershave, and had studied her face. His lips had parted slightly as he’d claimed her mouth. She’d melted into his embrace. Butterflies had raged in her stomach, and she’d responded by wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders.

  Thrill had knotted fingers in her hair as he’d lowered her to the blanket. Deepening his kiss, he’d groaned. He’d tucked his arm behind her back, and leaning over her, had begun peppering her throat with kisses—licking and teasing a pathway towards the V-neck of her top.

  He’d managed to unhook her bra, freeing her of the impediment. She’d gasped. Springing upward, she’d clocked him in the head. Shaken, she’d readjusted the hooks.

  “Jesus, Jordan, that hurt,” he said rubbing his forehead.

  “I don’t want to go there. Not tonight.” She hadn’t liked the way her voice quavered.

  His eyes had taken on a look of innocence, yet the seam of his mouth had buckled. “You’re leaving tomorrow, and I thought we had something.” He’d kneeled, sitting back on his heels and reaching for more wine. “We’ve been going out for a while.”

  “I like you.” She’d moped, hearing Paisley’s voice in her head. ‘You’re giving him something, right? You’ll be tossed aside and replaced within a week.’

  “But I’m not ready for this . . . this . . .” How far should she go to hold on to him, and yet, did she really want to?

  He’d ignored her excuse. “Here, have some wine,” He’d refilled her glass then had reached into the basket, pulling out a similar bottle. He’d seemed to be weighing his options while turning the corkscrew. “I’m flawed, Jordan. What can I say?” Resorting to playing his trump card, he’d stared into her eyes and chased his fingertips over the length of her arm. “You’re pretty, smart, and I want all of you.”

  “I…I just don’t think I’m ready—” The jagged words had fallen from her mouth as she tingled all over.

  Thrill had immediately cut her off by capturing her mouth. He’d emitted a low groan, parting her lips with his tongue.

  Jordan’s head had whirled. He knew how to push the right buttons. She had been drowning in him. Sensations were amplified as he’d kneaded the inside of her thigh in conjunction with his enticing mouth explorations.

  She’d wanted more. Her body had been on fire as his hands had slid under her shirt. He’d left the confines of her lips to torture her ear with his tongue. Her vivacious blood had resonated in her ears, along with her ragged breathing. Boldly, her hands had fumbled beneath his shirt, feeling his hot skin under her fingers. There had been a tug on her waistband and the distinct sound of a zipper.

  She’d turned to petrified stone, caught between wanting to go all the way and knowing she truly wasn’t in love with him, at least not yet. She whipped her arms up like a barr
icade, thrusting him off to the side.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “I can’t. I can’t do this.” Her voice had shaken with indecisiveness.

  He’d wiped down his flushed face, eliminating the signs of longing. Then in a terse tone, he’d asked, “Are you still hung-up on that Mark guy?”

  Astonished, she’d said, “That came from out-of-nowhere.” She’d avoided his eyes and righted her crinkled shirt. “Mark’s been gone for a while. And besides how many times do I have to tell you that we were just friends.”

  “Jordan.” Her name had sounded sweet coming from his lips, even if stiff. “Remember the night I couldn’t get a hold of you, and Paisley called me to hang-out?” He’d paused until she nodded.

  I don’t want to hear about him and Paisley rekindling an old romance.

  “After I dropped Paisley at home, I stopped by your house. I really wanted to talk to you, but I knew your grandparents would be pissed for stopping in so late. I parked down the street and snuck around the back of the house. I was going to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention. Guess what I saw?” He stalled to run a hand under his jaw, then snared her eyes. “I heard rustling coming from the woods. And then I saw him. Mark. And can you guess who he was carrying?”

  He paused, and she’d bit her bottom lip.

  “I was so frigging shocked, I couldn’t move,” he’d continued. “I wanted to kill him. And I wanted to beat you for playing me for a sucker. I left before I did something I’d regret. And I’ve been thinking it over ever since.” His tone had turned frivolous. “Besides, we haven’t actually committed ourselves to each other. Have we?”

  Thrill hadn’t bothered to pour wine into the glass. Instead, he’d drunk right from the bottle. Swiping his mouth on his arm, his shoulders had heaved as he breathed deep.

  “When I came over the next day, your face was all scratched liked you’d been in a fight. I felt miserable, figuring he’d hurt you, and I’d left you alone with the sick ass.” His face held bottled-up emotions, lips taut. “Either he hurt you, or you’re screwing him on the side, leaving me with zilch?”

  Shocked and offended, she’d said, “No! What’s gotten into you?”

  “What am I supposed to think?” His eyes had sparked. “You’re mine, and I see you in the arms of that prick. Give me a break. I’m not fucking stupid.”

  “Mark surprised me and . . . and . . . we had an argument. I don’t even remember what it was about.” She’d fought for a frank explanation. I’m not lying, just omitting the absolute truth. “I ran into the woods to cool off and fell over a branch. I twisted my ankle, that’s why he carried me out, and that’s how I got the scratches.” She’d drunk a hefty draft of wine to wet her throat. When she’d spared him a glance, he’d scowled accusingly. “Why didn’t you say anything the other day?” she asked.

  “I held it together because I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of your grandparents. I wanted to see what you’d have to say today.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow, and you’re making it real hard.”

  “Hard for you? What about me?” He’d picked up the wine glass and swirled the sediment. “You decide, right now. Either you’re with me or not.” He’d poured the liquid residue from the bottom of his glass on the ground.

  Jordan had slugged the remainder of her wine and made the decision to end all discourse concerning Markus. Kneeling, she’d sloped forward and twined her fingers behind Thrill’s neck. He’d hesitated before placing his hands on each side of her hips, drawing her in. His accusing eyes had taken on a balmy glow as she’d inched her way to his mouth.

  She’d kissed the side of his neck, inhaling his pleasing scent. Bringing her lips to his ear, she’d breathed, “I like you very much. I like being with you in this way. I’m just not ready for a full-fledged commitment.” She’d felt him shudder. “Please, can’t we enjoy each other without . . . you know?”

  “Hell,” he’d grumbled, and curled her into his arms.

  SEELEY BROKE IN to her daughter’s thoughts. “Your daydream must be a doozie because you’re smiling like a love-sick puppy.”

  Jordan flicked her hair over her shoulder, turning to Seeley. “Huh? What’d you say?”

  “You’ll probably miss Thrill, am I right?” Seeley said, as if reading Jordan’s mind.

  “Yes.”

  Seeley pondered over her early and fast relationship with Jack, and now that Jordan had a boyfriend, the sex talk was way overdue. Needless to say, broaching the topic was never easy. She aimed for a conversational tone. “Is it serious?”

  Jordan shrugged. “He’s my first boyfriend. I really don’t know how to act or what to expect.”

  “Um, well, unfortunately, I’m not too hip on the dating game. Your dad was my first and last boyfriend until I found Declan.”

  Trumpeting her own experience would be far-fetched, it had been nothing like Jordan and Thrill’s relationship. Seeley’s teenage years had not been mediocre, and lacking experience she was uncertain as how to dole out advice.

  “After Jack, it took me eight years to find Declan. You can ask me anything.” She positioned her phrase between them like a salve. “I’d like to help, if I can.” She caught a glimpse of her daughter’s cringing nose and mouth. “I’m not too old to know what’s hip. I’ve heard that William McKenna has a reputation.”

  Jordan opened her mouth to protest, but Seeley slapped the steering wheel.

  “Wait. Wait, I didn’t say it was a bad rep, only that I’ve heard all the girls at Elma High are starry-eyed over their football quarterback. Even your grandfather keeps tabs on him in the local paper. I just would like you to take it slow.”

  Jordan appeared indignant with her arms banded over her chest.

  “I’m hoping you’ll go to college.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to marry the guy,” Jordan said, sounding contrary. “We just started going out. And now I’ll be away, so who knows what’ll happen? Thrill might start seeing someone else.”

  “Oh? You think he’d toss you away so quickly?” She stifled the urge to suggest they take a break and see other people, but thought better of it.

  Jordan leaned her head on the headrest, shutting her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ll probably see him at least once a week.” Seeley merged the car onto the exit ramp. “You think he won’t be happy with that arrangement?”

  “Paisley doesn’t think I can hold on to him,” Jordan blurted, then grimaced.

  “Why does Paisley think that?”

  “It’s complicated,” Jordan said in a rare form of petulance.

  Seeley assumed her daughter did not fancy conversing in length about the controversial topic with her mother.

  Jordan pressed the button, sliding down the side window. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, regaining control. “I can take care of it. Thanks for asking, though.”

  Seeley felt as if she had been hit over the head with a frying pan. Thanks, but no thanks, and don’t meddle. Adolescence was convoluted, exasperating, and a jumbled mess—that, she did recollect. She should keep her trap shut, but she felt the need to offer motherly support.

  “Jordan, I understand more than you think,” she said, her tone soft. “I love you very much and only wish to help and put you at ease.” She glanced over at the sweet face of her daughter. “If Thrill really likes you, he’d respect your wishes. If there’s any pressure on his part, then he’s not worth treasuring. And I know you. Morally strong. Don’t ever be ashamed of that.” She took her hand off the steering wheel to squeeze Jordan’s arm.

  “Thanks.” Jordan turned her head to stare out the window.

  THEY WILL FIND YOU

  HER MOM DIDN’T understand about Thrill, not really. Getting the gist from the stories Em and Henry had conveyed over the years, her mom had never been a typical teen.

  Arriving at the apartment, Jordan refused to let Seeley drag her luggage inside, in her condition. So i
t took longer than expected to unpack the car with her fundamental necessities.

  “Henry was right. With all these boxes, you’d think you were moving in for good.” Seeley tied an elastic band in her hair. “Which I’d love, but I know you want to finish your senior year in Elma.”

  “It’s not much stuff. I need my own pillows and the crocheted blanket Em made me. And then if I find a job, I need to be prepared, so I packed decent clothes, just in case.” Jordan carted the plastic bags, overflowing with her blanket and pillows, and threw them on the twin-sized mattress.

  Seeley propped her shoulder on the doorframe, rubbing her stomach. “The room’s kind of small. I hope everything will fit.”

  “It’s bigger than my room at home.” Jordan dug into a corrugated box, then rolling her back upright, said, “Hey, before I forget, I saw Father James yesterday. He’s freaking out because you haven’t gotten in touch with Father Chesterton. You also had an appointment with Father James, and you blew him off. What’s that all about?”

  Her mom looked as if her insides were being torn apart. She frowned and bent at the waist, then just as suddenly, her face softened.

  “Mom, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Fine. This baby’s going be a bruiser,” Seeley said, winded. “I’m getting pokes from the little brute already.”

  “I don’t know much about pregnancy, but isn’t it too soon to feel the baby moving?”

  “We’ll see. I have a doctor’s appointment next week, don’t worry.” Seeley pulled at the border of her knit shirt, appearing edgy. “Let’s get this place in order.” Jordan made for the box when Seeley braceleted her wrist. “I didn’t mean physically. When was the last time you practiced telekinesis?”

  “Last week. Markus said I was slacking. I’ll tell you later about training in the woods. Why?” Jordan felt her mom’s firm grip getting tighter, the pressure released as she let go.

  Seeley narrowed her eyes as she concentrated on the suitcase. The locks snapped, and the lid popped open. Shirts and jeans floated into the air like ballooning sails.