Two Weeks

by Andrea Wolfe

  Good and bad things, here today and possibly gone tomorrow.

  I feel like I don't know who I am. This is pure chaos, no matter how I look at it, no matter how I frame it.

  I'm just as confused as Todd was that I wouldn't say anything about Vince. I froze up, just lost the ability to speak of it. I'm not sure why.

  Was I actually trying to protect him from punishment? Was I just avoiding the drama?

  Can I actually work things out with Vince? Undoubtedly, it feels like a square peg in a round hole. Maybe I'm just a total idiot for thinking that I'd gain something by keeping my mouth shut.

  As the aspirin kicks in, the tumult of my thoughts starts to subside. Some peace gently arrives along with the effects of the medicine.

  I'm still sleepy, and it's making me overdramatic. I leave the bathroom and climb back into bed, taking a moment to soak up the image of sleeping, sunlight-lit Ally before me. I've never slept with anyone as beautiful as her in my life.

  And then she angrily groans in her sleep and turns over to avoid the sunlight.

  I laugh and eventually fall asleep again.

  ***

  "Jackson?"

  I slowly open my eyes. Ally's right on top of me, wry smile on her face. She's wearing one of my t-shirts and it's hanging low around her neck and I can see the tops of her breasts. It's a pretty good sight first thing in the morning.

  "What's up?" I ask.

  "It's nearly noon," she says.

  I shake my head in disbelief. "No way." I look over at the window, trying to interpret the position of the sun. "It's probably only like nine."

  She laughs and shoves the display of her cell phone in my face. It's four minutes to noon. "See?"

  "Jesus," I whine, "what the hell happened last night?"

  "I was hoping you'd tell me that."

  "Aww, c'mon, Ally, I don't want to get into all of this serious stuff already. I just woke up."

  "Already?" she asks incredulously, mocking my tone. "It's lunchtime, for God's sakes." She starts laughing. "I've been up for two hours."

  "Oh, whatever," I say. "You're not the one that got smashed in the head with a bottle last night."

  "Poor Jackson," she says, stroking my arm. She leans forward and kisses the top of my head.

  I wrap my arms around her back and pull her toward me, giving her a firm, deep kiss. She smells incredible, like lavender and cinnamon and honey. It's an intoxicating blend.

  "I think I know how to make you talk," she says devilishly, pulling away from the kiss. She slowly moves away from me. Her hands slide under the elastic of my shorts and it's clear what her plan is.

  "We'll see about that," I say. I'm about to say something else, but she's already started and oh God, she's fucking good at this. She's so intense, yet so gentle. I've never had a blowjob this good in my life, and hell, I think it would be an understatement to call her an expert.

  As much as I want to prolong the pleasure, she's just too efficient. I finish super quick, and when my climax has subsided, she sits up and curiously stares at me.

  "That was way too easy," she says, grinning from ear to ear. "Now I think you owe me an explanation."

  I take a deep breath and stare up at the ceiling. I'm in a really good place right now, and I try my damndest to soak it up while she's still got those beautiful prying eyes affixed to me.

  "I don't think you asked me nicely enough," I say, staring right back at her. "I'm not that easy."

  "Oh?" she asks.

  I nod. "I don't think you're being very sincere—and I've got an idea."

  "I'm listening."

  I sit up slowly, and then pounce on her, taking her by surprise.

  "Jackson!" she shouts playfully. "What the hell are you doing?"

  I tickle her a little bit and she whines. "Interrogation tactics," I say. "From the rulebook of Ally Moore."

  "Interrogation? Why the hell am I being interrogated?" Her words spill out one at a time between giggles.

  And then, I yank down her panties and when my tongue's on that very wonderful—and very sensitive—spot between her thighs, it doesn't take long before she's screaming my name loud enough for the neighbors a mile away to hear and shoving all the blankets off the bed.

  When she's finally back on earth, she pulls her panties back into place and then jolts upright. "Enough goofing around," she says, cheeks flushed with heat.

  "What, you didn't like that?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

  "Go to hell," she says. "And I loved it." Ally groans and pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. "You owe me an explanation, Jackson," she pleads. "I was... horrified when I saw you like that. I haven't been so scared in a long time." Her expression is really somber and I realize I should probably stop goofing around. I guess her climax freed her real emotions.

  I gulp hard. Things have changed.

  "Let's finish packing and I'll tell you on the way," I say.

  "You promise?" she asks. I see some of the former happy expression returning to her face. I want it all to come back.

  I shrug. "Yeah, I guess. Whatever happened to the whole not getting too serious thing?"

  "I thought you were dead!" she shouts miserably. "I need to know. I'm sorry." She stares down at the bed and I realize that I should probably just get this over with. "It's different now."

  Ally looks genuinely distraught and I absolutely despise seeing her that way. I'm not going to be able to take anymore of this. "Okay. I'll actually tell you on the way there."

  "Good."

  We finally climb out of bed after that. I get dumped in the kitchen, preparing breakfast while she showers to save time. It's a shitty deal, but I eventually acquiesce. First though, I make coffee to help boost my spirits and energy levels.

  I make us a huge omelet using a little of everything in the fridge. It's got tomato, onion, mushroom, bacon, sausage, and then winds up covered in all the shredded cheese I've got left, which proves to be a lot more than I anticipated.

  I chop the omelet into two pieces—definitely not equal sized pieces, however—and throw some toast on each plate.

  Ally comes into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel and proceeds to stuff her face. "It's too good," she moans after a huge bite. "It's got everything I like in it. I don't know what to do with myself."

  I notice her nearly empty plate. "Is that going to be enough for you? Do I need to make more?"

  She takes a big gulp of coffee and sets down her fork in exasperation. "No, no. I'm already stuffed and I'm still going for some reason."

  I laugh and then finish off my own plate. When we're done, we throw the plates in the dishwasher and start it.

  The trip won't be that long, so I don't need to pack much. I throw a couple outfits and a bathing suit into my backpack and call it good. Ally's already got her suitcase packed since it's the same one she brought to Red Lake in the first place.

  "You need to hurry up," she says as I'm gathering my toiletries. "I've been ready to go since I got here."

  I ignore her complaining and keep going until I've got everything together. "I'm going to go look around outside," she says. There's a hint of curiosity in her voice. "I'll be waiting."

  She leaves and then I finish up. When I'm all set, I do a quick check through the house to make sure I haven't left anything on that shouldn't be left on.

  I lock up and walk toward the truck.

  "Jackson!" Ally screams. "C'mere!"

  I can't tell if she's panicked or excited. I don't pause to figure it out. I run to where she is next to the fence.

  "Be quiet," she says. I approach with her and she bends down, pointing toward a tiny hole in the ground.

  "What is it?" I say.

  "Baby bunnies!" she says with glee. I can't believe how giddy she is. I swear she might explode at any second.

  I take a closer look, and sure enough, there's a small hole in the ground surrounded with the mother's fur. The babies are incredibly tiny and their eyes aren'
t even open yet. Although they climb and hop occasionally, they mostly stay cuddled together in a big furry clump for warmth.

  "Now I know what they've been doing out here," I joke.

  "Aren't they so cute?" She's so overwhelmed that I don't think she'd even notice if an atomic bomb went off down the street.

  "They're babies," I say. "Aren't all babies cute?"

  "No," she says matter-of-factly. "Definitely not. Have you ever seen a baby kangaroo or a parrot?"

  I shrug. "No, I guess not. They're ugly?"

  "Oh yeah," she says. "But not these little guys." I think she's hypnotized because she's still not moving.

  "Well, shit," I say, "I'll have to be more careful the next time I mow because I went right over this spot a few days ago."

  Ally slaps me on the arm. "You asshole! You could have killed them! They're so tiny and innocent!"

  "Hey, how was I supposed to know they were there?" I snap back. "You sure as hell didn't. And they look just fine to me."

  She gives me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. They're making me crazy. We should probably go before I try to take them inside and raise them."

  I laugh and help her up. "We can check on them later."

  I drag her a few steps, but then she stops again. "Aww, I don't want to leave them. Where is their mother?"

  "I think the mom only stops by a couple of times a day to feed them. I'm sure she'll be back."

  "Okay." I lead her to the truck and grab her suitcase, tossing it in the back with my huge backpack.

  It's almost two when we finally pull out of the driveway. Carsonville is only about a half hour away though, so our trip will be brief.

  After we pass through town and head north, Ally immediately seizes the opportunity.

  "So what happened?" she asks firmly. "Please tell me."

  I stare out into the passing sugar beet fields, feeling like I'm right there inside them. The rolling countryside sprawls in every direction. It's always been a comforting sight when I drive out here.

  "What do you want to know?" I ask, my eyes returning to the dotted white lines on the road.

  "I want to know how you got smashed in the head with a bottle. And I wanna know why."

  "Is that all?" I still don't look at her.

  "Well, and the contract stuff. I mean, you're so good that I don't know why you wouldn't do it." She's also staring at the countryside. It's a great backdrop for a conversation, a definite perk of the area.

  I grab my water bottle from the cup holder and take a swig. "That guy Vince did it. He and his friends were trying to pick a fight with me and he wouldn't leave me alone. So it escalated. I was just worried that you'd come out in the middle and it would really freak you out or something."

  "Jackson!" she pleads. "They beat the shit out of you and you were just worried that I'd be scared? I could have run inside and got help."

  "I just don't know," I say defensively. "It could have been much worse and I didn't want you to have to witness it. I wasn't thinking clearly. I was scared too."

  She's quiet for a moment. "Well, why would they do something like that? Who the hell are these people?"

  "They're children," I say. "And if I treat them like adults, they act even more like children. That's why I didn't tell Todd, okay?"

  She nods.

  I shake my head. "And if I had said something to Todd, Vince would have made up some story about me attacking them and it would have been their word against mine. It's easier to move on than it is to work out all of these small details."

  "Oh." She looks over at me and smiles wanly. "Well, you really thought this through, huh?"

  "I guess," I say with very little confidence.

  "But what if Todd figures it out?"

  "He won't. Vince will probably never speak of it again. And I don't need to keep this going if I don't have to. He can believe that he scored a victory against me, and if it gets him to shut up, that's fine. The whole situation is comically immature."

  Ally stretches out her arms and legs and reclines in the seat. "Okay, well, that's one mystery down. So what about your fighting career?"

  Honestly, I don't want to tell her about my spinal stenosis. It feels too... dramatic. But I also don't want to lie to her. I dislike that option more. I'm under the gun now.

  I let out an audible groan. "You're probably going to hate me for this," I say as a preface.

  She turns to me with a confused look on her face. "Why do you say that? I mean, it's not my place to tell you how to live your life. It just seems like there's... more to it."

  I lose myself in the scenery again. We're about halfway to Carsonville and I notice plenty of cars heading out of town. A summer festival ended a couple of days ago; people are clearing out. Perfect for us. Fewer tourists.

  Ally's eyes are still trained on me. She really wants to know what's up. I can see the curiosity like it's been tattooed on her face.

  "You know all that talk about me going pro in football?"

  She looks back at me. "Yeah, but just what you told me."

  "Well, I did go pro, but when they checked me for health issues prior to starting, I tested positive for spinal stenosis. It was the death of my career right as it started. It's a narrowing of the spine. If I got hit too hard during a play, it could paralyze me. So I got dropped."

  She covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh God, to make it that far and then have the rug pulled out like that. I can't even imagine. That's like getting a record deal and losing your voice permanently."

  "Yeah, well, I'm over that now. It definitely changed my life. Changed the way I think about everything."

  I catch her biting her lip. I have an idea what she's going to ask. "So, what about with the—"

  "Fighting?" I ask. "It's still a risk. Todd doesn't know about it. Less of an issue than in football, though."

  "So are you saying that it's unsafe to fight? That you could wind up paralyzed?" She wants me to lay it out for her. Black and white. No bullshit.

  "Yes." I look over at her and smile. "But everything in life has its risks. I'm just worried that something will happen as soon as people are relying on me. If I sign with Todd, it's going to seriously mess him up if I'm suddenly unable to fight anymore. It's non-exclusive the way it is right now. Mostly for fun. But maybe I'm being overly cautious. I could potentially fight for the rest of my life without a single problem."

  "That's really sad," she says, her tone melancholy. "I'm so sorry things turned out this way."

  "I got the news right before my parents passed away. I definitely had to re-prioritize after that. And then I lost my scholarship." I debate telling her the real truth about Jeff and me, but I still don't feel ready.

  "Would you ever stop fighting?" she asks. "If you had to? You train so hard and everything. It's obvious you really care about it."

  "I don't know," I say. I feel a lot of different things swelling up inside of me. "I've been alone for a long time and fighting gives me something to do, risky or not. I mean, no matter how you spin it, I'm still going into a cage and fighting people. Plenty of other things could go wrong too."

  I watch her fidgeting in the seat. It's clear that I've made her nervous. "I guess that's true. So you wouldn't stop if someone asked you?"

  "Who would ask me to stop?" I'm not following her logic.

  "What about me?" she asks. "What if I asked you to stop?"

  I give her a tired smile. Now I see—she's just testing me. "I'd probably say it's not your place since we're not in a serious relationship." I don't like how the words feel as they come out of my mouth.

  "That's not very nice," she complains.

  "You're the one that asked me," I remind her. "I wouldn't have said anything if you hadn't interrogated me."

  "Is that such a bad thing? I mean, I just wanted to know about your life," she says, trailing off. "It's so sad what happened and everything. I wouldn't want anything else to happen to you... whether we're serious or not."

  My fists
tighten around the wheel. I feel like I'm at the lectern delivering a powerful speech. "I don't know what to say about it, Ally. Some days, I feel like I'm meant to do this and I should go for it with guns blazing. And other days I'm worried that it'll all go wrong and I'll crash and burn."

  "What if you do get hurt? Who will take care of you?" She's trying to make eye contact now, but I stay focused on the road.

  Her words press up against an uncomfortable part of me. "Ally, please. As much as I appreciate this, it's not that big of a risk. I don't need to live my life in a constant state of worry. Cancer'll get me before the spinal stenosis."

  I catch her fidgeting again. "I'm sorry," she says. Her arms are in a straitjacket hug. "I've never been in a situation like this. I don't know how to feel. I don't want to see anyone get hurt. I mean, people care about you, Jackson, even if you think you're all alone. And I care about you, even if this isn't supposed to be serious."

  I feel bad. I feel like I've hurt her and I hate it. "Please," I say, taking one of my hands from the wheel and resting it on hers. "Don't take this the wrong way. It's just been hard for me to come to terms with, I guess. I don't know what to think about it either."

  Ally accepts my hand, wrapping her fingers between mine. Her demeanor seems to be slowly improving. "I won't. And there's no reason to waste time worrying. You're totally right about that."

  For a few minutes, there's silence in the cab. It's not good or bad, just real. I want to get past this vibe though, soon. I want us to have a good time together while we still can.

  Ally saves the day. She turns on the radio before we say anything else and turns the dial until she's on a classic rock station.

  "I love Led Zeppelin!" she shouts as Jimmy Page's guitar solos blast from the speakers. She cranks it up even louder.

  I start laughing uncontrollably and she notices.

  "What's so funny?" she yells above the music.

  "Just didn't expect you to be into classic rock."

  "My dad played it all the time growing up."

  A flash of memory pops into my head. "Oh yeah, Jeff used to complain about it all the time. That your dad would only listen to oldies music as he called it."

  She continues bobbing her head along to the beat of the music. "And you guys were into grunge then, right?"