Girl on the Run

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Girl on the Run Page 17

by B. R. Myers


  “Why are you smiling?” he asked.

  “It’s nice to be with you,” I said, “without the usual humiliation.”

  “But you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

  I looked down at my hands. Our chair climbed higher in the evening sky. The ride stopped again as the operator filled the next seat. Kirk was suddenly quiet.

  Did I miss a cue? Was I supposed to inch closer when he said I was cute? Was he thinking about Lacey? Did he wish Tyler drove us instead?

  “I can’t figure you out,” I finally said.

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re like an M. Night Shyamalan movie. I can’t pay attention to the dialogue or the flow of the plot because I’m trying to figure out the big twist.”

  “You’re looking for a big twist?” he grinned.

  “See! You’re quiet one moment, and then you say something like that the next.” He didn’t reply, making me even more frustrated. “It’s none of my business,” I said, “but you and Lacey?”

  “She’s not my type,” he said. “I like tall brunettes.”

  I picked at the chipped paint on the handle. He was totally confusing. And totally hot. “What’s not to like?” I said. “Dark hair, lean muscles, chocolate brown eyes…”

  “Your eyes are green.”

  I frowned at him. “What?”

  The Ferris wheel had almost reached the top. I scanned the crowd for the boys. They were huddled in line for the Tilt-a-whirl, talking and doing the occasional sign with Duff.

  “From this height,” I said, “They seem normal. Well, Scotty’s good most of the time.”

  “Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

  I leaned forward a bit more, then sat back with a sigh. We were almost at the top, and a kiss seemed like the farthest thing from Kirk’s mind. I had no idea what was on his mind. It sure wasn’t me.

  “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “Sigh?”

  “Stop leaning forward, you rock the seat.” He sounded strange.

  “That’s not rocking the seat,” I said. “This is rocking the seat.” I pushed back and forth laughing. “Woo-hoo!”

  “Shit!” His white knuckles gripped the bar in front of us.

  “Are you okay?”

  He groaned. “Um…I’m not a fan of heights.”

  The Ferris wheel moved again, and this time we stopped at the very top. Most flirting couples would see this as an opportunity to make out, but Kirk looked ready to barf instead.

  “Why are we even on this ride?” I asked.

  “It didn’t look this high from the ground,” he said, pressing his back into the seat.

  “That’s the next embarrassing thing,” I said. “I’ll leave the ride, covered in whatever you had for supper. You always say you can’t wait to see what happens next. Well, there you go…you’re going to be sick all over Chloe’s sweater.”

  “I promise, I won’t throw up on you,” he said. “Distract me.”

  I madly flipped through those movies again, trying to come up with a way to salvage the moment. Only one memory surfaced. “Look up,” I said. “And find the prettiest star.” I secretly crossed my fingers.

  He tilted back his head, and then quickly shut his eyes. “No,” he moaned. “That makes it worse.”

  “Um…what are your parents like?” It was the first thing that came into my head.

  Kirk took his time answering me. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” he finally said.

  “Oh, please. You owe me a few embarrassing stories.” I uncrossed my fingers, sensing the flirting had ended.

  “True,” he agreed. “My parents have regular jobs, but they, um…”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “They go to Star Trek conventions.” He cringed. “A lot.”

  “Your parents are Trekkies?”

  “The big joke in the family is they’ll move into our basement when they retire and do nothing but watch reruns.”

  I laughed for a bit, and then thought of something. “Are you named after…”

  “Captain Kirk,” he answered dryly.

  “Anyone else?”

  “My sister is named after Nurse Christine Chapel, my older brother is McCoy, and you know Scotty.”

  “Scotty is your brother?”

  He looked surprised. “Didn’t you know?”

  “No!” The Ferris wheel began to circle again. Once we were in constant motion, Kirk began to relax.

  He was watching me. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “No, I’m thinking you got off lucky. I could be riding the Ferris wheel with Spock instead.”

  “That was the dog.”

  When the ride ended, Kirk staggered to the hotdog stand.

  “Go sit down,” I said. “I’m getting a slushie. Do you want anything?”

  He shook his head.

  So there I was, in my hot date outfit, pretending to enjoy my strawberry slushie while Kirk leaned back in the chair trying to recover. The boys yelled around us, shoving hotdogs and popcorn into their mouths.

  The colour seemed to be returning to Kirk’s face. He began to make small talk, which I totally ignored. He moved closer, reading my expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing, I’m fine.”

  Scotty cleared his throat.

  “No really, what’s wrong?” Kirk asked again.

  “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

  There was another prompt from Scotty; a cough this time.

  Kirk looked at the guys. “Why don’t you line up for The Spider?” he suggested.

  Scotty was the first to stand, and the others followed. Kirk moved his chair closer to mine.

  “You look very nice tonight,” he said.

  “Thanks.” I pumped the straw in my slushie a few times.

  “Just Jesse,” he said.

  I met his eyes.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you…nice job with the guys.” He stood up and reached for my hand. “Let’s see how you handle pinball.”

  We played every game in the arcade that night, and I beat him twice at air hockey.

  Driving back to the lake gave me a headache. The guys were pumped up with sugar and their voices reverberated off the van’s windows. Kirk turned up the radio twice to drown them out, but it only made them scream louder.

  They piled out of the van and ran down the lawn, shoving and tackling each other along the way to Cabin 4A. Duff separated from the group to deliver a bag of cotton candy to Diana.

  “Pink and fluffy,” I said, “the perfect gift for anyone in that cabin.” My thoughts turned to Lacey and I wished I had kept my mouth shut.

  “Are you tired?” he asked.

  Am I tired? Is he tired? Does that mean, “Please go to bed so I can call on Lacey?” Damn you, M. Night Shyamalan!

  “I’m going to the lounge,” I said. “I want to check my email.”

  “I’ll come too, I need a mug.”

  The counsellors’ lounge was deserted. I went over to the computer desk as Kirk plugged in the kettle by the sink.

  “I hear you know everything about Jesse Owens,” he said, taking a mug from the cupboard.

  I spun in the chair. “Ask me anything.”

  “Okay…what year did he run in the Olympics?”

  “Nineteen thirty-six,” I said. “That was so easy.”

  “Berlin, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought that was nineteen thirty-eight.”

  “Nope.”

  “No, I’m sure,” he said.

  I may be totally clueless about guys, but Jesse Owens is one thing I never get wrong. “Wanna bet?”

  “Yeah.” He walked over and stood behind my chair. Reaching both arms around me, he logged onto the computer with his own p
assword and brought up the search engine. “Look it up.”

  “I don’t have to,” I said. His cheek was inches away from mine. “The answer is nineteen thirty-six.”

  “Then whatever I suggest for a bet won’t matter, will it?”

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  I was sure he could hear my heart.

  “What did you have in mind?” I whispered.

  The kettle began to boil. The rough stubble from his cheek brushed against my ear, sending flames down my body. He laughed softly and went back to the sink.

  My hand touched my cheek, trying to stop the fire from spreading. I needed to concentrate on the task at hand. I typed in the name “Jesse” and was looking for the “O” on the keyboard to start his last name when a prompt in the search field caught my eye.

  It was my full name.

  I turned around. Kirk was facing the counter, with his back to me. Why had Kirk looked up my name?

  I clicked and several sites popped up. Most were articles about my records in track and field. But close to the top, the one with the most recent date, was the newspaper article about Dad. My most horrible memory was neatly typed in columns with twelve-point font. Kirk started talking, oblivious to my discovery. I heard him pour the water into the mug.

  He knew this whole time.

  I thought I was going to puke. I stood up and walked out the door like a robot. The high-heeled sandals made it impossible to run down the steps. I managed to reach the bottom without twisting an ankle. Once my feet hit the grass, I took off in an angry march, keeping my eyes focused on Cabin 4A in the distance.

  I didn’t hear him until he touched my arm.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I hate you.” I thought that summed it up nicely.

  “What?!”

  “No!” I stopped walking and stared him down. “I will not run the stupid race. No matter how much you flirt with me or many games of air hockey we play.”

  “I don’t want you to race.”

  “Liar.” I started walking again.

  “No, just listen.” He followed by my side.

  “Shut up. I saw your little research project all over the computer.”

  “That was weeks ago, when you first got here.”

  “You knew about my dad all along, and you never said anything.”

  “What was I supposed to say?” He stepped in front of me, blocking my way. I was breathing heavily, fighting the tears. God, please, does he have to see me cry too? After all the embarrassing crap, please don’t let him see me cry.

  Kirk ran a hand threw his hair and took a deep breath. “I asked you to run, and you said no. That was the end of it. The part about your dad is your business. I thought if you wanted people to know, you’d tell them.”

  I took a few more breaths. He was so maddening. I wished I was a guy so I could punch him and be done with it. “If you don’t care if I run, what was tonight about?”

  “A chance to have a good time.”

  “That’s it, just a good time?”

  “Didn’t you have fun?”

  What could I say? Of course I had fun, but I was hoping for something more.

  “Yeah, the boys were decent. It was nice. Thanks…again.” I walked around him and continued to the cabin.

  He followed me. “Why are you so mad?”

  “Because you’re so impossible to be around.”

  “That’s nice.”

  My exasperation had reached its limit. I stopped and spun around so quickly he almost bumped into me. I curled my hands curled into fists. “What do you want, Kirk? Lacey? The triathlon cup? To see the next embarrassing situation you’ll find me in?”

  “None of those things,” he said. “I want just…”

  “Just what?”

  “Just you. Just Jesse.” There were a few beats of silence while we stared at each other. His expression was serious. I held my breath as he stepped closer. “Do you remember,” he asked, “the first night you were here, and I told you your necklace was distracting?”

  I nodded.

  “The little silver part…”

  “The charm?” I whispered.

  “Yeah, the charm,” he repeated, his voice soft. He touched my bare shoulder, then traced my collarbone with his finger, letting it rest in the small hollow of my throat. “It dangled right above this spot, and every time I looked at it, I wondered how it would feel to kiss you there.”

  Those milk chocolate eyes burrowed into mine, then looked down at my throat. And that little insignificant part of my body I had never thought about before, that soft hollow at the base of my neck, caught on fire. He leaned down. I felt his lips, and then his tongue slipped into that space.

  Soon, everything was on fire. My heart pounded like crazy as the heat spread all the way to my toes. Kirk’s mouth moved up my neck, and then paused at my jaw to kiss the skin there. I heard a sigh, and realized it was me. I felt like I was going to explode. He was moving so slow, like he was teasing me. In all the dates I’ve been on, I have never wanted to be kissed so badly. I have never wanted someone so much. “Just Jesse,” he whispered against my lips, his voice soft but urgent. “Kiss me.”

  So I did.

  The ground was spinning under my feet. I was light-headed and giddy, and my quick breaths matched his as our mouths moved together. He tasted spicy and sweet, like cinnamon and cardamom. And I was starving for him. My fingers clenched his shoulders, pulling at his shirt, keeping him there, making the kiss deeper.

  It was like I couldn’t be close enough to him. The more contact, the better. My clothes felt too big, and too warm. Kirk’s hands slide around my waist then slipped under my sweater, sending a million fireworks over my bare skin. I answered by doing the same. I was possessed. Do whatever you want, my body was saying, just don’t stop kissing me.

  We stayed pressed against each other, making out like crazy. A whole parade could have walked by, and I wouldn’t have known.

  And that’s why Kirk was the one to stop kissing first.

  “Get a room!”

  I froze in his arms, recognizing the voice immediately. My back was to Cabin 4A, but I didn’t have to turn around to know Spencer was on the porch. “Oh god,” I moaned. A few snickers and hoots echoed across the lawn.

  Kirk cleared his throat and gave me a sheepish grin. We untangled ourselves and hastily pulled clothes back in place. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, then gave me one last kiss, lightly brushing my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

  I nodded. The flush of our make-out session still had me glowing like a firefly. “Right.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and took a few steps backward. I watched him go until he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

  Dear Diary,

  Don’t worry, I will keep you well hidden from now on. The truth is, I need you. I can’t sleep until I write down every detail from tonight. I’m scared I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll just be a dream.

  I think the Universe is letting go of me. Why else would I be allowed to be so happy? Now I know how Baby felt when Johnny lifted her up into the air. Tonight was like my own Dirty Dancing. I never thought I would write this, but it’s true. I’m happy. I’m so so happy. I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love…

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  I sat with Cabin 4A at our usual table, smiling down at my breakfast. The blueberry muffins had never tasted so good, or the bacon, or the toast. Even the milk had an extra special flavour. Vanilla chai had saturated my cells, and now everything tasted like him. I was stupid with this new-found euphoria. I couldn’t wait to email Chloe and debunk her theory.

  I glanced at Kirk’s table, but it was still empty.

  “I think he’s swimming,” Scotty said.

 
A dopey grin played on my face as I marvelled at the beautiful pattern the crumbs made on the plate. A nudge against my ribs brought me back to earth.

  “Huh?”

  “J.J. Wake up,” Spencer said.

  “Morning, Jazzy,” Lacey said. “Susan wants to see you as soon as you’re fired…oops, I mean, finished.”

  I straightened up. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s great!”

  I hadn’t seen Lacey this happy since the night of the talent show. My intuition was piqued. Duff signed to Liam, who studied my face with concern. Scotty and Spencer put down their forks.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I lied. The boys looked at one another, probably thinking the same thing I was.

  I dropped off my tray, and crossed the grounds to Susan’s office. A quick glance at the lake showed a flat glassy surface. Kirk wasn’t swimming or on the beach.

  “Come in, Jessica,” she called out.

  I walked in and was stunned to see my usual chair occupied. He didn’t turn around when I came in.

  “Sit down,” Susan said, pointing to the other chair. I lowered myself onto the cold vinyl and dared to glance his way, but Kirk stared straight ahead.

  This is not good.

  “As you know, Cabin 4,” she paused then added, “uh…4A, has been proving to be quite challenging,” Susan began, “especially for someone with no experience as a counsellor.”

  “Um…okay,” I said.

  “And since your first days, I’ve had concerns,” she continued.

  “We’ve talked about this,” I said.

  “True, and you’ve done very well. Two first place prizes, although unorthodox entries, but winning just the same.”

  I squirmed in my chair and turned to Kirk, who finally met my gaze. His hair was wet, but he hadn’t shaved yet. “Are we in trouble?” I asked him.

  “Trouble?” Susan laughed. “No, Jessica, of course not. You’re being rewarded.”

  “Oh.” I sank back in the chair, relieved.

  “Your replacement is finally arriving this afternoon,” she said.

  My eyes widened. “My what?”

  Susan nodded. “A new counsellor for Cabin 4A.”

  “But Cabin 4A has me.”

 

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