by A. E. Watson
Before I knew it, Sage and Rita showed up with Jake and Andrew and we were having us a pool party by the time Vincent arrived, obviously dressed for dinner.
He looked disappointed when he saw everyone. I hopped out of the pool, feeling weird about forgetting dinner and forgetting to tell him it was off. “Hey.”
He looked down at my bikini and tilted his head. “You wearing that to dinner?”
“No.” I laughed. “I can’t go. I’m on curfew and my dad isn’t in the mood to talk.”
“You didn't text me all day. I was sending you messages.” Vincent bit his lip, looking past me at the pool frothing with our friends.
“I was busy. The FBI came and interviewed me and Lainey and Sierra.”
He didn't look surprised at all. “Can we talk inside for a second?”
I shook my head. “Let’s talk down at the beach.” I turned and grabbed my shorts and tee shirt from the chair, looking at the water and shouting at Lainey. “Be right back.”
She nodded and screamed as Andrew dunked her.
I hurried to the beach, following Vince down the path through the grass to the water. He paused on the long boardwalk, leaning against the railing. He looked too good to be true in his pale lavender dress shirt with sand-colored dress pants. His hair was slightly styled but mostly shaggy, exactly the way I liked it. But he didn't look happy.
I hugged myself, nervous about the stormy glare on his face. It matched the clouds that were hanging around out on the sea.
“What are we doing?” he asked loudly.
I shook my head as I got closer. “I don't know.”
“Do you like me?”
My instinct was to lie. I hated the idea of sharing that with him in the daylight after I had said it already in the dark. “Yes.” I fought my instinct on it.
“Do you love me?”
I clenched and froze on that question. My mother’s voice even silenced for a second. I scowled and shook my head. “Don't ask me that.”
He sighed. “I love you, Linds. I love you.” Everything inside me tightened. He stepped toward me. “You are the first thing I think of in the morning, the very first thought I have. And you are the last thought when I fall asleep. To the point that I dream about you almost every night.”
“Vince, you can’t love me already—” I snapped my lips shut when I saw his face. I pressed them together, forbidding myself to speak further. I wanted to stop him. I wanted to go back to joking and laughing and pretending this wasn't ever going to be as serious as it was for him, even though it hadn’t really started for me.
“I get it. I’m way ahead of you in everything. But it’s only because I have spent my entire life watching you and thinking about you and driving myself insane around you. Believe me, I understand I am acting irrationally and that I am not this guy. According to the magazines and the gossip mills and society’s standards, I am the coolest guy we all know. I know that. I am the guy who doesn't do attachment. I am the guy who doesn't love girls. I have never been monogamous, and I don't know how many girls I have had sex with. I shit you not.”
I grimaced, stepping back, wishing I had stopped him. I knew what he was, but I didn't need him to say it aloud. Andrew’s mom floated about in my head, making me cringe.
He laughed. “But that face, even that scowl, makes me crazy. You make me crazy. I ache thinking about you—actual aching in my heart.” He sort of trailed off and choked out the last words.
I stepped back a little more. I wanted to tell him so many things but a dark fear riled up inside me. I shook my head. “Just friends.”
He sank, I watched him go down. “Don't say that.”
“I have to. You know yourself what kind of person you are. We all know the things you've done. I don't know if I can ever look past that, but I do know if I did and you broke my heart I would never recover. We aren’t the same.” I closed my eyes for a second and begged my tears to stay back. “You and I are so different. You have loose morals and I am almost a nun, and will be a spinster.”
“But we can meet in the middle.”
“No, we can’t.” I nearly laughed. “I am terrified of your side.”
“Then I can come over to your side.”
I laughed. “What? With—with the choking and the drugs and the flagrant lack of care for STDs. Vincent, you won’t go back, you’ve gone too far forward.”
He shook his head. “I would go anywhere you asked and be anything.”
“When I was little, my mom wrote me a letter for my dad to give to me when I became a teenager. He gave it to me when I turned fourteen. It was her list of things she wanted to tell me and she knew she wouldn't be able to.” I lost control of my tears and they flowed down my cheeks in a steady stream. I hadn’t ever told anyone about the letter, not even Lainey. “In it she said that she had relationships before she met my dad and she regretted it her whole life. She hated that she had let someone who wasn't worthy use her up. She said that she had loved boys, and they were wrong for her and she knew it, and when they hurt her, which she knew they would, she was damaged for a long time. She told me to be careful who I give my love and my heart to because most people will end up breaking it.”
“That is the most fearful advice I have ever heard. You can’t be serious. You have to live, Linds.” He mocked me.
I spun and ran back up to the house with him shouting after me. I turned left at the pool house and sprinted up the side yard. I stopped when I was completely out of breath, but I was grabbed and whirled around.
I shoved and fought but Vincent’s hands were stronger. He just pulled me into his chest and held me, letting me cry. He dropped to his knees, pulling me with him and cradled me to him. “This was the wrong week for all of this, and for that I am so sorry. I saw my chance and I took it. I wanted you to be mine so badly, I didn't care that everything else was going wrong. I am so sorry, Linds.”
I sobbed, needing the release desperately. I hadn’t realized how much I was holding in until I finally snapped. After a while, I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat mixed in with my sniffles.
He didn't say anything else.
Chapter Twenty-Two
BOOM goes the Dynamite
His hand had sought out mine in the dark again as we lay under the stars, the real ones. Everyone had left but him, and we had decided to camp out in the solarium with the windows open so the wind could get through the huge screens. We had nest-styled sun chairs that were giant. We each lay in one, holding hands over the edge.
“Can I read the letter?” he asked.
“What?”
“The letter your mom gave you, can I read it?”
It was a weird request but I nodded. “I guess. I’ll go get it.” I should have said no but I didn't. I wanted to share her with someone. I never did that.
I got up and walked to my room and grabbed it, wanting him to see why I held virtue so high in regard. It had been an important matter to my mother.
I handed him the letter and he read it aloud using the light from his flashlight, but I heard it the way I always did, in my mother’s voice.
Dearest Lindsey, I am writing this because there is a very good chance I won’t be able to tell you in person. If you are reading this, know I am watching over you. I made a special request to be a star that never leaves your skyline. I can see that you are the beautiful, strong, proud, and smart girl I knew you would be. I am so proud of you. Believe it or not, I was once a teenaged girl like you are now. I had dreams and desires and a crazy head full of crazy ideas. I wanted to be a journalist and write tell-all’s about bad companies for doing terrible things. I wanted to go to war-torn countries and tell their story. I wanted to see every nook and cranny in this world, especially the bad ones. But like all terrible ideas, that one was lost when I got old enough to have common sense. This is something you will get a little later on. It’s essential to surviving your twenties. There are a few things I want you to know, things I wish I could be there right
now telling you.
Firstly, do not give your heart away easily. I made this mistake a time or two. Some people are not worth the love you offer them. They will take it and use you up and leave you damaged. Now after being married to your father I regret ever having any of the relationships I had before him. But they are part of who I am now. Getting hurt and feeling destroyed is a natural part of life and you have to be prepared for that. I liked chocolate cake right from the pan, red wine, and my three favorite friends as a soother after a moment like that. Secondly, be safe. Be prudent and smart about the choices you make because some of them can last a lifetime. Pay attention in sexual health class, so you know what to avoid. Having a baby at sixteen can ruin a whole life. Thirdly, forgive people, baby. Forgive them and give them a second chance, but only one. Don't let people walk all over you. Be a leader but lead with compassion and kindness. Defend the weak. You never know when you might need the same kindness in return. But most of all, find your own way. If you lead with your heart you won’t ever go wrong. It might feel wrong but it’s just taking you the long way. And sometimes the long way has all the good stuff. I love you and I am always here, just whisper and I will hear you.
Love,
Mom
I gulped and sniffled a little. The letter always tore me up.
He lowered the letter and turned off the flashlight. “Lindsey, seriously?”
“I know, right? Imagine reading that at fourteen. It was intense. I haven’t read it in a long time, maybe a year. At first I read it every day and then I slowed down.” I wiped my eyes and smiled, missing her more than anything.
He lifted his gaze, shaking his head. “You read this letter all wrong. All kinds of wrong.”
“What?” I sat up. “How would you know? You aren’t even a teenaged girl.”
He sighed. “No. I am far from a teenaged girl, which might be why I understand this letter better than you do. My common sense might have kicked in earlier.”
“Asshole!”
“Perhaps. Humor me. Your dad didn't talk to you at all about anything in this letter, did he?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Don't patronize me, Vince.”
“Linds, I’m not.” He chuckled. “I am trying so hard not to. You can’t even imagine the self-control this is taking. Your mom was telling you to let your heart lead you and to be cautious, but not to get led around by your brain or by other people. She was saying not to be a puppet, but not necessarily a virgin.”
I lifted a finger but he lifted his hands innocently. “I’m not saying virginity is bad, at all. Your mom is right; I don't feel as awesome about the people I—anyway. It doesn't matter. What matters is she is saying, what’s important to you and makes you happy, do that. What scares you and makes you uncomfortable, be cautious with that. How are you so dumb for a smart girl?” He laughed again and passed me back my letter.
“Shut up!” I snatched it and folded it again. “I’m not dumb.” But the thing Lainey had said about how people take their perspective and read or see the world with it, all of that based on their experiences, made sense suddenly. I didn't want to admit it to him but he was right. I might have taken my judgmental views on everything and assumed my mom had meant something she didn't mean at all.
I stuffed it in my pocket and lay back on the sun chair, not talking.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “You called me stupid and laughed at me. I hate you.”
“I’m sorry I laughed at you.”
I turned his way. “No, you aren’t. You love laughing at me.”
“With you—I love laughing with you.”
“Liar.”
“We have known each other since we were very little. You know me, Linds.” He sighed and climbed into my huge round sun chair, snuggling into me and kissing me on the cheek. “I am not a liar. I am a mincer of words. I am an exaggerator. And I am a withholder of the parts I don't want to share. But that doesn't make me a liar.”
I turned my face sharply and felt his breath on mine. “Yeah, it actually does.”
“Your mom loved me, by the way. She always loved me. She would call me naughty little Vince and give me candy and wink. And she always smelled like cookies.” He leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. “Stop fighting this so hard.”
I shook my head. “No.” But I did nestle my head into his chest and close my eyes again. Falling asleep on him was becoming a thing.
Waking up on him was also becoming a thing. I licked my lips and wiped the spit from my cheek as I blinked and realized I had slept the entire night curled into him. My legs and back were cramping as I stretched, waking him up.
“What time is it?”
I shook my head. “That looks like morning sun. It’s early. I can feel it. I shouldn't be up yet.”
He groaned and curled around me, kissing the top of my head. “I have to go home. I haven’t been home in days, except to change.”
“I have to go back to sleep so I can wake up and lie in the sun and maybe go and get a coffee later.”
“Meet me for coffee.”
I looked up, loving the color of his green eyes compared to the thick dark lashes. “Okay,” I relented completely. “I will meet you and break bread with you in public and you can kiss me, but not in public and that will be our friendship for right now.”
“Deal, but I mean this is a date. Look pretty and wash the chlorine out of your hair.”
I stuck my tongue out.
He rolled his eyes and tried to stretch, wincing. “Oh my God, I’m too young for my back to hurt like this.” His eyes popped open. “Oh shit.”
“Did you dislocate something?”
“No, my back hurting reminded me of something.” He shook his head. “I have football starting tomorrow. We have summer camp and warm-ups before tryouts.” He didn't look excited.
“Why don't you stop playing if you don't love it?”
“Everyone loves football.” He gave me a ridiculously judgmental look. “And I don't quit, anything. My dad expects me to play. Yale expects me to play. I will play. We dance for our dinners, Lindsey, you just haven’t figured that out yet. You live like you have all the time in the world and you’re a regular girl, but that's not the case. We have expectations. I slack off in every area I can. But when anyone is watching me or looking for something from me, I deliver.” He puffed his chest, lifting me up a bit. “Banks men always deliver.” He lowered his voice like his father’s.
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Oh my God, whatever. You are such the playboy, don't even.”
He chuckled and squeezed me. “When no one but us kids are around, I am who I want to be, but when the adults are around, I am who I need to be. You need to learn how to be more flexible. Your family name depends on it.” He winked all cocky and sassy and sounded just like my father.
“You are the worst person to be giving advice on protecting one’s family name. I would bet my right arm that your dad hates the way you run around on your girlfriends and act like a dick.”
“My dad knows when he needs me to be something or be somewhere or do anything, I’ll do it.” He turned and stretched his back.
I pulled away, sighing and struggling to get out of the huge nest chair. “I like being who I am all the time. I hate pretending.”
“And I hate the idea that one day everyone will be looking at me to run the family fortune, but that day is going to come. It came for my dad and it’ll come for me. It’s who we are. Blue blood isn’t such a bad thing when you know how and when to pretend to be a commoner.”
“Commoner is a dirty word, Vince.” I offered him my hand and pulled him from the crazy chair.
He weighed a ton, and when he came out he wrapped himself around me. “The point I am making is that there will be people watching when we go for coffee and when we go anywhere. Can you try? I don't mean heels and a gown, but can you at least brush your hair and wear a clean tee shirt, and can it not be a graphic tee?”
He shook his head. “We aren’t doing the teenaged drama thing this early. Close that mouth and show me the way to coffee. I promise I will put aside time later for you to take the things I mean the wrong way and everything I say out of context.” He took my hand in his and laughed like he was daring me to get upset. I pulled my hand from his and walked to the kitchen.
Again Lori gave me a look. “Can we stop meeting like this? I like my morning coffee Lindsey-free.”
“Agreed.” I nodded. “I’m going back to bed. Can you just make this thing here some coffee?” I pointed at Vincent before I turned and walked for the stairs, leaving them both in the kitchen. I staggered up to my room and crawled into my bed.
My head was spinning with thousands of things, but I shut them all down and closed my eyes and let myself drift back off into a slumber.
When I woke my phone was going crazy. It was worse than an alarm.
I reached for it blindly, stunned it was one o’clock in the afternoon. I had slept for five hours since Vincent had left but felt way more tired.
There were messages galore in the group chat but it was in two places. And there were messages from Vincent. I opened his first and read.
Linds, what time for coffee?
We could do high tea. Want to go to that place down the shore by Stamford?
Linds, are you still sleeping?
I’m coming over.
I’m watching you sleep, Lindsey. That message had just come in.
I cringed and looked up, seeing the crack in my door where it was partially open. I jumped, seeing his green eye in the space.
He laughed and walked in. “I did call and text.”
I tossed a pillow at him. “That's not funny.”
“It was funny. You looked scared.” He sat on the edge of my bed.
“That's because I was scared. Mostly because someone is actually watching us.”
He opened his mouth but didn't say anything. He wrinkled his nose and nodded. “That's fair.”
Turning my gaze back to the texts still coming in, I looked at the group chat. Freezing the second, I realized what was happening. “Rachel is texting us again.”