Waterdreamer (The Emerald Series Book 2)

by Kimberly James

  “It’s not funny,” he whispered, then pushed himself away from the counter and made a quick adjustment to his jeans.

  At the risk of coming across disrespectful, I kept my perch on the counter because, honestly, I wasn’t sure my legs would support me yet. Noah retrieved his drink from the counter and popped the top, laying a hand over my thigh.

  “What do you have planned for the day?” Mrs. Jacobs’s voice was pure innocence as though she hadn’t noticed our hot and heavy body lock, discreetly giving us time to regain our composure.

  “Just hanging out,” Noah said noncommittally.

  “How’s Patrick?” Mrs. Jacobs shot me a quick glance over the table where she was transporting the contents from one purse to a new one with the tags still on it. Mrs. Jacobs had a very casual, no fuss sense of style. Accessories were the one exception. She had a weakness for handbags. Expensive ones. I could read the price tag from my spot on the counter. Lots of zeros. “I’ve missed seeing him.”

  Did she know my dad was gay? Was it my place to blurt it out if she didn’t? I wasn’t sure if it even mattered. It shouldn’t matter, but it had been the first thing that popped into my mind when she’d asked about him. Oh, yeah, have you heard? My dad’s gay.

  “He’s good. Just got back from a business trip.” I could’ve bit my tongue. She paused and eyed Noah as if she were putting that nugget of information together with Noah’s prolonged absences at night this week.

  “Tell him I’d love to see him. Maybe you can come over for dinner one night next week. We’ll throw something on the grill.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll ask him.”

  On her way to the door, she stopped in front of a small mirror that doubled as a key holder.

  “What are your plans?” Noah asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone. She did seem a little flustered. Her hands were jittery and her cheeks had a slight flush of pink.

  She threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder and looked Noah square in the eye. “I have a date.”

  “You have a date,” Noah echoed, and his fingers squeezed my knee. “With Marshall?”

  “No. Not with Marshall.” She waved her hand in front of her face dismissively. “And it’s not really a date date.”

  “Do I get to meet him?”

  It was fun to watch Noah get his hackles up over someone besides me.

  “It’s not that serious. We’re just hanging out,” she said, lobbing Noah’s words back at him. “I’m meeting him at the farmer’s market and we’re going to lunch after. Dutch.”

  “Well, if he lets you buy your own lunch, dump his ass.” Noah crossed his arms over his chest, clearly offended at the thought.

  She walked over and patted Noah on the cheek, offering an indulgent expression. “Thanks for the advice.”

  “No problem. Have fun on your date,” Noah said, snaking his arm out and pulling the tag off her purse.

  “Oh, gosh. Thanks.” She turned back around and reached for the door. She paused before opening it and looked back, her gaze traveling between the two of us. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you two are having sex.”

  Was this a question? If so neither of us answered. Heat infused my cheeks, and I shifted uncomfortably on the counter. I wanted to nudge Noah in the arm. This was his mom looking at us all fresh-faced and eyebrows raised. Did she want confirmation?

  “Are you two being careful?” she asked.

  “Yes, mom. We’re being careful.”

  “Good.” She smiled and shut the door behind her.

  “Well shit,” Noah said when we were alone. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to her asking if we were practicing safe sex or if he was that bothered by the idea of her on a date with another man. Which brought back to the forefront of my mind my dad’s “coming out” the previous night. I guess, in a way, I understood Noah’s feelings.

  It was hard being the kid sometimes.

  “Are you really surprised, Noah. Your mom is really…” I was about to say “hot” but reconsidered. Noah had an old-fashioned streak in him. He might not appreciate hearing the term applied to his mother, even if it was true. “She’s a very attractive woman.”

  “I get it. Dudes think she’s hot.”

  Yeah, he was bothered all right.

  “I just remember them together, her and my dad, and I don’t want someone coming around and messing with that.”

  “Well, you can’t expect her to stay alone forever. She’s in the prime of her life,” I offered gently.

  “I know. I’m being selfish. I want her to be happy again. I mean she’s happy. Just not like she was when my dad was alive.”

  Conversation stalled, each of us lost in thoughts, worrying about our parents. Might be a good time to bring up last night and the big reveal, but I was hesitant. I was still conflicted for unknown reasons. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk about it yet.

  “Did you talk to your dad about Flores?”

  “No.“ I took a deep breath. “You know when I told you my dad was back in town? Well, I didn’t know he was back.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and readjusted the hem of my dress. “He was with someone.”

  “Well,” he said slowly. “That’s okay isn’t it? He’s in the prime of his life and he’s… attractive, I guess.”

  “He was with a man,” I said, leveling my eyes on him.

  “A man?” Noah studied my face. “You mean, like they were together?”

  I nodded.

  “Your dad is gay?”

  “Yep. That was the gist of the conversation we had at Rendezvous where they were eating.”

  His brows shot up and his mouth turned down. “Humph.”

  “Humph? That’s all you have to say?”

  “Well, what is there to say? I didn’t see it coming but…” He shrugged. Then he looked at me. “Are you okay with it?”

  “Yes, I think so.” I covered my face with my hands. “Oh, God. I feel like a horrible person. Why do I feel like he just told me he has cancer or something? This shouldn’t be this big of a deal, should it?”

  “I think it’s a big deal. Obviously your dad does too or he wouldn’t have kept it from you for so long. And if you really had no idea…”

  “I had no idea. How do you live with someone for so long and not suspect something like that? Was I really that self-absorbed? And they’ve been dating a while now. How could I not notice?”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t suspect either. It’s understandable you’d feel…”

  “Protective,” I finished for him because now that I’d had time to process the idea, that was my overwhelming emotion. “I almost feel like the parent now. I don’t know. Somehow this leaves him so vulnerable. People are cruel. They’ll hold it against him and judge him and that will make me want to bash someone’s face in.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me, an expectant look on his face, as if I’d just proven something.

  “Are you really okay with this?” I asked. Because for some reason, I thought he might not be totally comfortable with the idea. Noah, Jeb, my father and brother—all of them had this extreme maleness about them, despite the long flowing hair. And their sense of macho protectiveness when it came to me, or any female, left me with the impression they could be less than tolerable to the idea of homosexuality. On the other hand, the disparity between the genders could lend itself to it.

  “Caris, I’m the last person to pass judgment on someone else. I have gills. I have webs between my toes. I’ve lived my whole life under a certain degree of prejudice directed at me just because of those seemingly insignificant genetic traits. We all have.” Noah lifted me off the counter and gently set me on the floor.

  I opened my mouth, prepared to argue that it wasn’t the same, that those people that might consider him—us—sub-human wouldn’t label my dad the same way. I was well aware of the prejudice that existed against gay people in certain communities, their need to “fix” them. Just like for so
long I felt I needed fixing when all I needed was the freedom to be who I was. I guess, in that sense, it was the same.

  “Thank you,” I said, tilting my head to kiss his jaw.

  “How about we forget about our parents. And uncles. I’m about to work your butt off so you’re fully prepared if you ever do have to bash someone’s face in.”

  I laughed and pulled his face down to mine. “I adore you, you know. Like really, really adore you.”

  “Yeah, give me about twenty minutes and say that again.”

  “Ooh, that sounds promising,” I said, hooking my fingers in the belt loops of his jeans.

  “I’m going to change.” He kissed the end of my nose. “You stay here.”

  “Only if you promise to put those jeans back on later.”

  “If it will make you jump me again like you did earlier, I promise.”

  Twelve

  My first senior year party ended up being my last senior year party. It was pretty much a disaster. Looking back, I describe it as the night I officially became a them.

  I didn’t notice anything different at first. We parked a ways up the street as cars already lined the driveway and curb in front of Derrick’s house. It sounded like every other party I’d ever been to. A lot of yelling, Actually, all I heard was yelling. Like just about every house here, Derrick’s house had a swimming pool, and that’s where everybody was gathering. In the backyard, circled around the pool. Staring at Derrick.

  “Holy shit.” Ally stifled a laugh behind her hand. She cut me a glance. “See what you would have missed if you stayed home?”

  I should have stayed home.

  My steps slowed as I took in the scene. Derrick sat on the diving board in a metal patio chair. He was naked. His chest poked out prominently because it appeared his hands were secured behind his back. His ankles were tied to the legs of the chair that rested precariously close to the edge of the narrow surface of the diving board. It was apparent the slightest movement, the least bit of leaning, would topple him over into the water. A position, I assumed was on purpose, guaranteeing he would be found before he could get loose. The words “lick a dick” were written in red marker under the mat of dark, springy hair on his chest with an arrow pointing down.

  The penis in question was well displayed. Whoever had tied him to the chair made sure his legs were spread as wide as possible, and they’d positioned the appendage between his thighs to full effect. If humiliation was the culprit’s goal, they’d achieved it. Derrick’s so-called friends were taking their time getting him out of his predicament. A few of them discreetly took pictures with their phones. Some not so discreetly. I think that’s what all the yelling had been about. Derrick threatening anyone who dared to get their phone out and use it. He was still spewing expletives, spittle forming in the corners of his mouth. Some of his buddies had crowded up to the end of the diving board and were discussing their strategy for getting him loose. Derrick’s face was bright red, the veins in his neck and throat bulging.

  Other than that, he appeared to be fine. Pissed as hell and rightly so. Derrick’s eyes burned with anger. Humiliation oozed along with the sweat dripping down his cheeks. His dark hair was matted to his forehead in wet clumps. One of the smaller guys was making his way out on the diving board, careful to not make it dip forward. He got far enough to crouch down behind Derrick and start working on the ties at his hands.

  “Look on the bright side, Derrick. All this time we thought you drove that big truck to make up for the size of your penis,” Charlene Goodson yelled, and a chorus of giggles followed. I might have laughed, too, if not for the suspicion gnawing at my gut.

  “Don’t act like you’re not well acquainted with the size of my…” Derrick’s response died when he saw me. His eyes slammed into mine, shooting fire.

  He involuntarily jerked, the front right leg of the chair scraping sideways a fraction, and it was enough that he tipped right over and fell into the water with a decided “kerplunk.” A certain degree of screaming ensued, mostly from the girls. My own mouth fell open. A few of the guys dove in after him and started working frantically on the ties. He sank right to the bottom. I watched, eyes wide, heart thudding. I didn’t think they had time to get him untied before he ran out of air. The diving well looked deep, maybe twelve feet. Derrick was a big guy. Weren’t they strong enough to simply drag him out?

  Seconds ticked by and turned into a minute. One of the guys came up for air and immediately went back down. A sense of catastrophe riffled over all of us standing around watching, helpless. Panic clawed at my throat, my heart swelling in empathy. That had been me a few short months ago, suffering from some phantom weight in my legs, anchoring me to the bottom, wanting to drown me. I was well acquainted with the helpless feeling. The rise of panic as your lungs started to burn and your chest felt like it was going to burst open. The way Derrick must feel right about now.

  I dove into the pool. Bubbles fed out of Derrick’s lips as he shook his head back and forth, openly fighting the binds that held him to the chair. One of his feet was loose and he kicked off the bottom to no avail. I grabbed his face between my hands and put my mouth on his and blew air into his lungs. He stilled, and when I drew my face back, our eyes met through the chlorine filled water. He damned me with that look. Not wanting to waste any more time, I shouldered some kid out of the way and grabbed the back of the chair and with a few strong kicks of my legs dragged the chair and Derrick out of the deep end and up the slope that lead to the shallow end. The legs of the chair scraped over the concrete bottom as I did what three or four of them couldn’t. Derrick sat just tall enough in the chair that his head reached above the water. He gasped, sucking in air. One of his hands was now loose and he was ripping at the other tie along with the hands working to free him. When it finally gave, he threw the offending tie across the pool and shot up so fast water splashed my face. He towered over me. I lifted my eyes from his heaving chest until I stared into his heated gaze. Accusing me. Like this was all my fault.

  “Get out of here,” Derrick snarled, his lip curled back over his teeth. “And stay the hell away from me, you freak.”

  Silence descended as all eyes trained on me. I envisioned everyone straining to hear what Derrick said. More people had arrived and the whole deck of the pool was filled with gawkers. My classmates. People I walked down the halls with, sat beside in class. They were all looking at me like I was an alien.

  “I didn’t do this,” I said to Derrick. Did I? I shook my head. No. Noah said he wouldn’t mess with Derrick. He wouldn’t have done this. Derrick could have drowned. I couldn’t believe Noah would put him at such a risk. But who else could it have been?

  “Get the fuck away from me,” Derrick said, and then he spit on me. The warm spittle stung my cheek then oozed its way down to the corner of my mouth. I braced my back as humiliation clawed its way up my spine. I wiped Derrick’s spit away with my hand.

  “I didn’t do this,” I said again on a wasted breath. He didn’t believe me and neither did anyone else. And I might not have done it but I was confident I knew who did.

  I crawled out of the pool. My head spun. I dimly remembered Erin taking my arm and leading me away from the pool. The stares. The whispers. I’d saved him, hadn’t I? Why were they all looking at me like I was a parasite?

  “Ally, you coming?” I heard Erin ask, her voice the lone sound in the otherwise quiet yard.

  “I think I’ll stay,” Ally said, and then we were walking back around the house, through the wrought iron gate. I dripped pool water. Thick on my skin like syrup. My stomach rolled. I jerked my arm free from Erin’s hold and bent over, retching in the grass. Staying upright was a struggle. I clutched my knees and closed my eyes as another wave of nausea washed over me. After I emptied my stomach, Erin helped me back to her Tahoe. Once in the seat, I laid my head back, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

  I couldn’t believe Noah would do something like that. As my stomach settled and I became more
myself, my anger grew, overshadowed by my disappointment in him.

  “You want to go home?” Erin asked from the driver’s seat.

  My head lolled to the side. There were three of her, all shimmering in and out of focus. I zeroed in on the one I thought was the real Erin. Speaking seemed impossible, but I forced the words out.

  “Take me to Noah’s.”

  * * *

  I was feeling much better by the time Erin pulled into Noah’s driveway. Other than I was rage-roaring mad. My stomach had settled. The dizziness passed. I jumped out before the Tahoe rolled to a complete stop, slamming the door behind me.

  I knew Noah was here. He’d said something about hanging with the guys on the beach. I smelled the fire before it came into view. They were all sitting in their beach chairs—Noah, Daniel, Jeb, Cree, and Levi—having a good ol’ time. The five of them talking and laughing and drinking in the firelight.

  Levi saw me first. I must really look irate with the way his eyes widened. Noah had his back to me, and he was saying something to Daniel and had no idea I was barreling down on him.

  I knew this was a bad idea. And I was sorry. Really, I was. Because these were Noah’s friends. Not to mention they were my friends too, but they were his friends first, and I was about to cause a major scene. But he could have really hurt Derrick. Derrick could have easily fallen in that pool and drowned before anyone found him and that would have been all on me because I couldn’t handle a little teasing and complained about it.

  “Uhh… Noah, your girlfriend is here and she looks really pissed.” Levi’s face brightened, like he was going to enjoy whatever was about to go down. And it was about to go down.

  Noah turned around, and when he saw my face, he slowly stood from his chair. “Caris, what’s wrong?“

  “As if you don’t know.” I shoved him with both hands in that impossibly hard chest.

  He stumbled backward a step, more I thought from surprise than my strength. I’d just dragged a two-hundred-plus-pound guy out of a pool and I couldn’t even knock Noah off balance.