by PJ Sharon
Alex seemed lighter, more the old Alex I remembered. During intermission, we stayed there in the quiet and talked about the stars over Iraq, Alex describing in detail the beauty of a pitch black sky with no light pollution anywhere to be found in the desert. He lowered his voice and inched his hand across the blanket until he found mine, our fingers exploring until they settled as if knowing right where they should be. Our hands found a natural comfort in each other, my pinky resting between his ring and middle fingers, a perfect fit—an undeniable connection.
I listened to the sound of Alex’s soft voice, my heart thumping a brisk pace as the warmth of his shoulder touching mine seeped into my skin, setting my sunburn on fire. I didn’t care. I could have stayed there forever, the stars bright in the night sky, our heads touching. The sky spun above me until the creepy music at the start of the next horror flick shattered the quiet of the moment. I closed my eyes through half of the movie and laughed hysterically through the other half, Alex making stupid faces trying to distract me from the freaky saw guy.
When the movie was over, Alex apologized. “I’m really sorry about the dumb movies. Next time, you pick.”
Next time? “That sounds great.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and glanced at him. “But honestly, Coop, tonight was perfect.”
We stared for a minute, the two of us smiling and not saying anything. I thought he might kiss me. I could tell he was thinking about it the way he stared at my mouth. Instead, he leaned over and kissed my forehead, the heat of his lips setting fire to my face, reminding me of my sunburn and the sleepless night ahead.
“Let’s get you back to the campsite.” He leaned back to his side of the vehicle and I jumped as a car beeped at me to slip into line. I shifted into gear, the spell broken.
I followed the traffic as it snailed its way toward the exit, sad the night was over, but truly feeling wiped out from overexposure to the sun. I yawned, realizing I hadn’t checked on his bandages. “How’s the leg feeling?”
“It’s doing okay. But I can’t wait to take this thing off.”
I knew he was referring to his prosthesis and I realized I hadn’t even thought about it all night. The more time I spent with Alex, the less I noticed his leg. I wasn’t sure if I should feel good about it being an afterthought, but it dawned on me that I didn’t think of Alex as a handicapped person or anything less than whole.
We pulled into the campsite at midnight, the lantern still lit in Brig’s tent. He was probably up reading the latest James Patterson novel, anticipating the ending a hundred pages in.
Alex walked me to the bath house and waited while I took a cool shower, the relief instantaneous on my skin. “Everything okay in there?” he called in response to my moans and groans.
I let the shower run as long as my quarters lasted. “All good!”
I threw on a loose tee-shirt and some soft sweats, and slipped on my flip-flops, my hair wet and soaking the back of my shirt. When I ran a brush across my head, I squealed. “Ahhh! Ouch!” I brushed my teeth and left my hair to dry in a tangle. Collecting my belongings, I checked the mirror one last time. My face was as pink as a Victoria’s Secret shopping bag.
“You sure you’re okay?” Alex took the bag off my shoulder and handed me the flashlight.
“Yeah, other than my wounded pride.” I felt foolish not having taken better care of myself. “I look like a beet.”
He laughed. “The prettiest beet I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“Thanks,” I said lamely. I felt less than pretty at the moment and yet his words rendered me speechless. My face grew hotter against the cool night air, quiet crowding in around us. Neither of us spoke again. The campers were all in bed and nothing sounded but the occasional rustling of a tent or a small animal in the woods.
Alex took my hand, and we walked shoulder to shoulder in the dark, sharing the one ray of light from the flashlight on the ground, guided to our site by a few glowing fires still burning in the night. Everything else was as black as tar, an eerie sense of darkness closing in on us and at the same time, like an enormous abyss. Trying to be as quiet as possible became a game between us as we walked stealthily along the gravel path.
Before long, we stood between the two tent cities, the flashlight casting a long beam across the pine needles. The light was out in the tent and the campground was completely still as if we were the only two people on Earth.
“I guess we should go to bed now,” I whispered. I blushed in the darkness realizing what I’d said.
“Yeah, I guess…”
He closed the distance between us and leaned silently towards me, his shadow causing my heart to leap and my breath to stop before reaching my lungs. I didn’t dare move a muscle, afraid he might disappear. His lips hovered over mine, our foreheads meeting. His hands cupped my face, gentle and barely touching me. I moved my lips toward his and inhaled—buttered popcorn and the evergreen scent of woods and soap filling my senses. Then his lips found mine. Before I had time to ponder the sensation, our mouths opened to each other, both searching for more. Our tongues met with a few gentle passes and then both of us fell into the kiss, an in and out rhythm that felt natural and primal. I fought to stay still, not to let my hands grab onto him and kiss him like he’d never been kissed before—like I’d never kissed anyone before, but I knew this was what we both needed—the chance to know each other in this new way; to explore slowly, and enjoy every step. After a perfect—if all too short—ten seconds, he broke free and inhaled deeply, as if to take the taste and scent of me with him.
“Good-night, Jordie.” He let me go and took one military step back like he’d just followed an invisible order to stand down. I laughed and shook my head.
“Good-night, Coop.” I crawled into my tent and handed him the flashlight. “Hey, Coop. That was the best first date ever.”
A broad grin captured his face in the shadows and his shoulders relaxed. “Me, too.”
Chapter 27
The next morning came way too soon. I slept better than I thought I would and when I came out of the tent, Brig’s Rover was gone. It was barely after sunrise. Thoughts of my brother crowded my mind. A tiny part of me felt guilty about what happened with Alex last night. Somehow, Alex and I being together—being so happy—seemed like a betrayal.
I checked the fire pit in our campsite—cold. I stepped quietly over to the guys’ luxury suite and found the coals hot enough that I could stir them and start a flame. I warmed my hands and added a few logs from the neatly stacked pile under a heavy green tarp.
“You’re up early.” Mom appeared behind me.
“I couldn’t sleep anymore,” I said.
An old hand at starting the Coleman stove, she quickly busied herself setting up coffee to brew. “Did you have a good time last night?”
I didn’t want to start with her already. “Yeah, it was nice.” I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie down over my hands, shrugging in order to warm up.
Mom eyed me through the screen room. “Just nice?”
“What do you want me to say, Mom? It wasn’t like we rented a motel room or anything. We went and watched horror flicks, we ate popcorn, drank soda…the usual, you know. We’re friends.”
“Oh? Is that all?” she pressed.
“Grrrr…Mom. Stop. Please. I cannot talk to you about Alex. I don’t know what’s going on, okay? Leave it alone. I have to go pee.”
My hasty departure ended the conversation. I couldn’t tell her what was going on because I didn’t know myself. It was obvious Alex was attracted to me. We’d definitely gone beyond being just friends. But I couldn’t help wonder what would come next? Alex definitely seemed more at ease with me, but he still hadn’t really talked about how he felt or what his plan for the future was. For that matter, I wasn’t sure of my own plans. Why did life have to be so uncertain? So complicated? So confusing?
Since I wasn’t up for another day in the sun, we decided to spend the day at the Crystal Mall, school shopping. Shopping, I could
wrap my head around. It would be good to have the only complication for my brain be what shoes went with which jeans. I wasn’t usually a fashionista, but I liked the idea of starting fresh at the beginning of a school year. I’d been saving a little of my paycheck every week and Mom would pitch in the other half. A new look, a nice outfit or two, new shoes…maybe a new bag. Not to mention all those wicked cool writing utensils, customizable notebooks and colored sticky pads.
I was a hopeless nerd when it came to school. Yeah, I fit in with small groups of friends in almost every clique, but being the best in my class had been a goal since childhood, so I spent a lot more time in books than I did with a social life. When I wasn’t studying, I was at the gym, running, or working. I had a moment to consider what I was running toward, or maybe…what I had been running away from.
I had one more year of high school and then what? Leave home and move far away…from Mom, Alex, Brig, the antique shop, Vic? Everyone and everything that mattered to me was here. It seemed Alex wasn’t the only one who needed time to work out a plan.
Mom and I came back from shopping—a successful trip in my opinion. We’d found a ton of bargains and stretched our dollars so I ended up with four new outfits, two pairs of shoes (buy-one-get-one-half-off), and enough school supplies to provide for an entire sixth grade class. I loved taking notes in pencil. I liked knowing I could erase a mistake and start fresh.
It was well after lunch time when we pulled in and parked next to the Rover. Then I honed in on a shirtless and sweaty Alex, chopping firewood like he was stocking up for the winter. He took another swing with the axe. His shoulders bulged, his chest flexed, and I drooled. He had on well-worn jeans that sat low on his hips, the arched bones and contoured muscles of his abdomen drawing my attention like I was looking at a picture of the statue of David I’d seen in Art History class. The top of Alex’s blue boxers rested below his belly button, a fine line of dark hair running downward…well…sighhh.
Brig was already at work setting up a tripod over the fire pit to cook lobster and steamers for dinner. He saved me from an embarrassing demonstration of the mystical powers of teenage lust, sure to reduce me to a simpering, speechless, doe-eyed love slave.
“Help me out here, will ya’ Sunshine?”
I dragged my eyes away from Alex, who had stopped long enough to notice me gawking and send me a satisfied nod. He continued chopping, making the splitting of logs appear effortless—not to mention incredibly sexy.
Focus on something else. Breathe. Distraction—you need a distraction.
“What can I do for you, Gramp?” Brig hated it when I called him that.
He furrowed his brows, “Don’t get on my bad side, young lady.” He handed me the lobster pot. “Go fill this up about a third of the way with water.” Then he turned to watch Alex attacking another log. “That should be enough there, son. Why don’t you head down to the showers before supper? You worked hard enough for today.” It seemed Brig was conspiring for us to have some time alone.
“Oorah, Sir,” Alex planted the axe deep into an uncut log and pulled a grubby tee-shirt over his head. He grabbed a change of clothes, a small shaving bag, and a towel. As we walked down the gravel road toward the showers, Alex seemed even more quiet than usual. His sweaty scent drove me mad, in a good way I couldn’t define, and it felt good to just be together.
“Do you want me to help you rebandage your leg after your shower?” I asked,
“No, I got it.” He was quiet for a moment, and then said, “You don’t have to take care of me, Jordie. I’m really doing all right.” He flashed the brilliant smile that made my heart jump.
“So you and Brig are spending a lot of time together. Is he helping you? You do seem better the last few days…I mean…sorry to butt in…it’s not really my business…”
“No, it’s okay. Yeah, the General has been very helpful,” he said with certainty, giving my hope button a solid push.
“I’m glad.” I waited for him to add to his declaration, but he changed the subject.
“I had a really good time last night,” he said.
He glanced my way and I gave in to the grin that crept over my lips. “Me too.”
His color had returned to a deep shade of golden brown and the afternoon light gleamed across his sun-bleached hair through the trees. Now was as good a time as any to talk about what our plans might be. I had less than a week to get back to my school life and I still needed to decide about college. I had no idea where Alex fit into those plans or how I fit into his. As of yet, I didn’t think he had a plan, and that made me more nervous than anything else. “Have you thought about what you’ll do next?” I asked.
Alex’s face lost all expression. He walked solidly beside me, his limp all but gone. After a minute, he took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m starting to figure it out, but I need more time. I need you to be patient with me.”
I stopped him and pulled him around to face me. A couple of kids on bikes passed, forcing me to step closer to Alex. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t going anywhere, but I couldn’t say so for sure with all of the decisions I had coming up about college. Instead, I said what he most needed to hear, and what I knew to be true. “Whatever you decide, I’ll always be here for you.”
He smiled a little sadly. “I hope so, Jordie. But I don’t want you to change your plans and I don’t expect you to wait around for me.” He reached out and touched my cheek, his expression slipping into the intense look of hunger I’d often seen on his face when he thought I didn’t notice. Right now, that look was all for me and it made my insides wobble like jell-o. “I can’t make you any promises,’ he said. “I think we should wait and see how the next few months play out.” He kissed my forehead, turned away, and disappeared into the showers before I could respond.
He was the most infuriating person I’d ever met. He couldn’t answer a question straight if I tied him to a chair and interrogated him with torture—a thought that seemed appealing on many levels.
I fumed and took deep breaths while he was in the shower. I filled the lobster pot with water and set it on a boulder, pacing back and forth trying to decipher what he’d said. Of course I would always be here for him. Was he questioning my loyalty after all we’d been through together? Wait around for him to do what? And what did he have to figure out? Could he be any more cryptic?
And what promise did he think I wanted? I wasn’t looking to get married at eighteen, but I wanted to have an idea if his feelings for me went beyond a friendship with benefits before I thought about leaving for eight years of college. Trying to get him to tell me how he felt was obviously a losing battle. Now he was asking me to do the impossible—be patient.
Chapter 28
All of my anger and annoyance fell to my feet, making my knees quiver when he walked out of the showers. Clean shaven and smelling wonderful from six feet away, he flashed me a one-sided dimple and tossed a wet towel around his neck. His shoulders, exposed by a white tank top, looked amazing against his tan, and a pair of fatigues hung loose and comfortable over his muscular legs. He had combed his short hair off to the side so it was no longer a military cut and spiky like it had been.
He really was too handsome for his own good. Or mine, I thought with a desire so intense it startled me and I couldn’t think beyond it. More than the physical need that swirled around my insides like a cyclone, I knew I loved him with every part of my heart. He was my best friend—the sweetest, smartest, coolest guy I’d ever known—and when I was with him, I felt full of life—like I wasn’t quite complete or whole without him. A surge of determination welled up inside me. If I had to be patient to make him mine, I could do it.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “Thanks for waiting for me.” He kissed the side of my head and then released me and grabbed the pot of water. “Let’s get back. Brig’s probably ready to get those steamers going.”
I let it go and didn’t pursue my earlier line of questioning. Patience,
huh? How did one go about exercising patience? We talked about mundane topics like fishing and how lucky we were to have had such good weather. I mulled over our progress toward a relationship, concluding that I didn’t know anymore where it was going than I had a week ago. My jaw clenched with tension. Being patient was going to be even harder than I thought.
When we reached the site, Brig and my mother had an intense conversation going on—one that stopped when we approached. Mom was tearing lettuce for a salad as if it had insulted her and she was taking her revenge. Brig had the fire banked into red hot coals, ready for cooking.
“It’s about time,” he said, taking the pot from Alex and exchanging an imperceptible nod. He hung the pot on the tripod and put the lid on.
The rest of the evening went exceptionally well once the mood shifted to food and a mean game of set-back. The lobster and steamers were amazing, dripping in butter and served with baked potatoes and salad. Somehow food always tasted better cooked outside. It also had the power to overcome our angst or our stubborn attitudes—Dunn traits that often appeared at family gatherings. Brig and I played against Mom and Alex, beating the pants off of them five games to two. Finally, we slumped into folding chairs around the fire with marshmallows on sticks at Mom’s insistence.
“It’s not camping without smores.” She handed me a square of graham cracker and a piece of dark chocolate to melt with my marshmallow, which burst into flame at that very moment.
I quickly blew it out, leaving one half charred and the other half raw. I slipped it between the crackers. “Perfect.”
Alex chuckled, his marshmallow a foot above the fire and toasting a light brown on all sides. Everyone laughed as I bit into the gooey treat, making a mess all over my cheeks and fingers, and shamelessly licking it off.
“Lee would have loved this—all of us camping together again.” Mom smiled sadly, her eyes glistening in the firelight.