Song of the Fireflies

by J. A. Redmerski

  “So then what’s the problem?”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that your girlfriend has been with so many guys, or that I’ve done really kinky stuff?”

  He shook his head and looked at me as if I were being ridiculous. “So it’s OK that I do it and not you?” he asked. And before I could say anything, he added, “Baby, this isn’t 1950. You have as much right to as much sex as you want, however you want, as I do. You didn’t cheat on anyone or screw someone’s husband.” He narrowed his gaze and said, “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Then you have nothing to be ashamed of. Definitely not with me. As long as your love for sex doesn’t land you in some other guy’s bed now that we’re together, we’re good. I’m not an asshole. I’m not going to throw your past up in your face.”

  I should’ve known all along that Elias, of all people, would not judge me. Not on my sexual history. Not on anything. The only thing I regretted was the seventeen years I wasted not realizing it sooner.

  Elias took a hold of my hands again and wedged his thumbs underneath my bracelets to find my scars. “I love you, Bray,” he said, and the moment changed in an instant. “But you’re gonna have to promise me something. You have to promise that you’ll never do anything like this again. It scares the hell out of me to even think”—he put pressure on my wrists with the emphasis of that word—“of you killing yourself. You can’t leave me in this world without you. Do you understand? Look in my eyes and tell me that you’ll never try anything like that again.”

  “I won’t,” I said. “Like I told you, I only did it once because of the side effects of that medication.”

  “But you did it once,” he pointed out. “You had it in you all along. You even admitted to having suicidal thoughts before that, Bray. That means you had it in you. And that is terrifying to me. Just knowing that it’s there.”

  “I won’t,” I said again, hardening my gaze. “I’m past that now. I’m stronger than that.”

  He thought about it for a long moment. I hoped he believed me.

  Then he leaned in and kissed me long and soft. The feel of his lips against mine and the emotion in that kiss melted me. I felt weak in the knees, and I draped my hands around his neck, interlocking my fingers. He lifted me up around his waist and held my butt in his hands.

  “Elias,” I said softly onto his lips when the kiss broke.

  “Yeah?”

  “You said that it should’ve been you.”

  He drew his head back slightly to better see my whole face. “Huh?”

  I kissed the tip of his nose.

  “Earlier,” I went on, “when you said that about my ex. You said you were pissed when you thought I was engaged, that it should’ve been you.”

  His eyes smiled and shortly after, his lips followed. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “So then why don’t we?” I blushed. “You know… get engaged.”

  His smile turned into a grin. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  My whole face flushed as hot as a Georgia summer. I wiggled my way out of his arms and stood upright in front of him again, shuffling my toes in the sand. “I-I don’t know… I guess so,” I said meekly.

  “Might as well,” he said. “I think it’s safe to say after seventeen years we’re pretty much stuck with each other. So sure, why not? We’ve been doing all kinds of crazy shit as of late. Might as well add it to the list.”

  I just stood there, blinking rapidly, with my lips parted. Then I pursed them, crossed my arms, and popped my hip to one side.

  “That was the most romantic fucking proposal I’ve ever heard in my life,” I said with heavy sarcasm.

  Elias smiled hugely, baring his prefect set of white teeth. “Wasn’t it, though?” he joked.

  My arms unfolded and I slammed the palms of my hands into his chest, knocking him on his ass on the sand. He just looked up at me and laughed.

  I started to walk off, fuming pissed, but I loved it just as much, and he knew it.

  “Baby, where the hell are you going?!” He couldn’t stop laughing.

  I raised my middle finger in the air high above me and just kept walking. I could hear his laughter carrying on behind me over the growing music as I approached the beach house.

  “I’m going to get drunk and stand in the center of the room and tell everyone that your cock is two inches long! And then afterwards, I’m going to—”

  He grabbed me from behind and pulled me down on the grass and sand.

  “My cock is not two inches long,” he laughed, sitting on top of me.

  No, it definitely wasn’t, that was for sure…

  I smirked up at him.

  He grabbed my hands with both of his and pinned them above my head. The prickly sensation of grass tickled the backs of my arms. Then he leaned in and kissed me. When he pulled away his eyes searched my face. “Will you marry me and my two-inch cock?”

  I smiled. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but for some reason it felt right. “Sure, why not?” I replied.

  He took me in for another kiss and we stayed like that, him sitting on top of me on the sand until Grace interrupted us—which was probably a good thing, because we were heading right in the sex-in-public direction.

  “Ho-ly shit! You’ve got to see this!” she said waving her hands out in front of her frantically, a crazed smile lighting up her face.

  We followed Grace back inside the beach house. A crowd had gathered in a circle inside the large living room. Elias tugged on my fingers; I followed in close behind him, and we pushed our way to the front of the crowd to see Tate and Caleb exchanging blows.

  I heard a crunch as Tate’s fist made contact with Caleb’s face. Caleb stumbled backward into a guy on the other side of the circle, but he bounced back just as quickly and returned the blow. Tate dodged it and came around behind Caleb, grabbing him around the waist with his thick muscled arms, and he squeezed Caleb so hard I thought he was going to bust a vein in Caleb’s head.

  Caleb managed to raise his arms above him and grapple Tate’s head. Tate lost his grip, and Caleb whirled around and grabbed the back of Tate’s neck, forcing his body over forward. Caleb’s knee came up, and I heard another stomach-twisting crunch. I yelped. The music and the sound of bystanders chanting was loud, but apparently not loud enough that it covered the sound of Tate’s face being pummeled into Caleb’s knee.

  Elias pulled me back when Tate and Caleb started getting closer to us. They were moving around in a circle, both of them bent forward in battle-ready stances with their clenched fists out at their sides, each waiting for an opportunity.

  I didn’t notice until I managed to tear my eyes away from the fight for a split second, but Tate’s girlfriend, Jen, was standing at my right side. I looked over at her questioningly.

  “They do this all the time!” she shouted over the noise, then turned back to the fight. “Come on, baby! You got this!”

  I was so confused. But I think Elias was enjoying it. Any moment now I half-expected him to whip out some cash and pass it to the nearest sideline bookie.

  Tate buried one hard right jab into Caleb’s ribs, then a left, then one dead center in Caleb’s gut. Caleb doubled over, and a second later Tate hooked him underneath the jaw with an uppercut.

  Caleb fell backward on his ass and tried to shake off the blow, but it was clear he had lost.

  Tate raised both arms in the air as if he were in a boxing ring, and the room erupted in cheers. Jen stepped out and kissed him. Molested him. With those two, there never seemed to be boundaries.

  Then Tate reached down and gave Caleb his hand, helping him to his feet. They hugged and joked around, and then it was all over. Everyone went back to partying. Caleb moved past us without even looking at us and looped his arms through Grace’s and Johanna’s. They disappeared into the kitchen. Tate, with Jen at his side, walked toward us.

  I looked at Tate like he was crazy.

  “Hey, it was Caleb’s idea,” he said.

/>   “Is he drunk?” I asked.

  Tate laughed. “Probably. But he’d challenge me sober.”

  He patted Elias on the back while Jen handed Tate the extra beer bottle she had been holding.

  “We’re heading to a secret spot on the beach next,” he said, looking at us. He took a swig before he finished and made a subtle face, as if it tasted sour. “Headin’ out in the morning. We’ll probably stay there for a few days. Are you two still good to go with us?”

  Elias and I exchanged a glance.

  “Yeah, we are,” I said.

  “I’m game,” Elias added.

  Tate grinned and pointed at us both, the beer bottle hanging from the same hand. “You two are gonna have to tell me what’s up with you sometime.” His grin got bigger.

  I glanced at Jen, and she smiled at me. Did she know something I didn’t? Instant paranoia. But I was relieved when she said, “Yeah, seriously. Tate and Caleb have a bet going on. A few more days and they’ll both be trying to pry it out of you just to see who won.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed Tate on the side of the mouth.

  “A bet?” I asked.

  Tate laughed. But it was Jen who elaborated. She pointed at Tate and said, “Yeah, he thinks you two robbed a bank or something. Caleb thinks you killed someone.”

  I felt myself gasp sharply, but I don’t think anyone heard. Elias’s hand slid down and linked with mine. He tried to play it off, or was trying to divert their attention away from me with my deer-in-the-headlights face. He laughed out loud and shook his head in disbelief just to distract them.

  Tate laughed along with Elias and patted him on the back one more time. Then he and Jen left us and went to mingle.

  Before we crashed, with Jen’s go-ahead, Elias and I made use of an upstairs bathroom, where we soaked for a long time in a hot bath. The music had died down an hour ago and everybody had either found a place to sleep or left. The low humming of the central air-conditioning unit could be faintly heard from the bottom floor as we sat together in the tub next to the window overlooking the beach. I lay with my back and head lying against his naked chest. One of his arms rested along the side of the cast-iron claw-foot tub. Elias had dimmed the lights in the bathroom earlier, which left the room in a low copper-colored glow that spilled onto the white marble floor near the elongated sink. The moonlight cast a grayish-blue hue on the tub through the window.

  Elias continued to massage my scalp with his fingertips long after he had rinsed the shampoo from my hair. I nearly fell asleep against his chest, lulled by his touch, but when I shut my eyes, I saw Jana’s face staring back at me.

  “Elias,” I said in a low, distant voice as I stared toward the window. “Even if nothing ever happens to me, even if I get off with a slap on the wrist, I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for what happened to her.”

  Water trickled from Elias’s arm into the tub as he reached underneath the water for my arm and pulled it against my breasts. He laid his head against the side of mine and I could feel the warmth of his breath from his nose as he exhaled softly against my cheek.

  “I know, baby,” he said quietly. “I can’t tell you not to let it get to you and I can’t say that you shouldn’t feel guilty because it was an accident, even though that’s what I feel, but I’ll be here for you. Always.”

  “I know you will…”

  He traced the bone along my forearm with the tip of his finger, up to my shoulder and then along my collarbone. I closed my eyes and let the shiver running along my spine subside.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You know you can,” he said softly with his cheek pressed against my wet hair.

  I reached up and touched his face, trailing my fingers along the well-defined curvature of his jawline, the tiny stubbles of his unshaven face gently prickling my sensitive skin. I continued to look out at the ocean, lost in the memory of Jana on the ridge with me that night, before she died.

  “If she had been pregnant with your baby,” I began, “what would you have done?”

  I felt his chest rise and fall heavily against my back.

  “Well, I would’ve been there for the kid,” he said. “I would’ve helped her raise it, but you would always be in my life. With me. Just like you are now.”

  His hand covered mine over my chest and he slid his fingers in between mine, locking them together.

  I didn’t say anything in response. He knew it was what I had needed to hear.

  I breathed in softly, and Jana’s face finally vanished from my mind. I saw only what was really in front of me then: the dark sky peppered by hundreds of tiny white dots and the waning moon hanging high above the horizon. Although I loved the night sky in any season and in any place, it never felt quite the same as when I saw it at home, above Mr. Parson’s pasture.

  “If you could go back in time, any time, and stay there, would you?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t know,” he said with reluctance, as if he needed more time to think about it. “I mean, if I could go back and change anything in my life, I guess I would. But as far as staying somewhere, I’m not sure.”

  “What would you change?”

  “The night on the ridge, of course,” he said and laid his left arm over my belly underneath the water.

  “But let’s just say you had to choose a time in your life to go back to and live, stay there forever, what time would you choose?”

  He was quiet for a long moment and then he said, “I’d choose our childhood. The day we first met up until—”

  “—until we lost our innocence?” I interrupted.

  I felt his chin move against the side of my face as he nodded once. “Yeah,” he said. “I’d choose our childhood.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “But I like being with you now, too,” he added. “Despite the circumstances, I think that if I had to choose between our childhood and our adult lives together, I’d probably choose the way we are now.”

  I swallowed uneasily and then brought his hand from underneath the water and pressed my lips to his wet knuckles.

  “What would you choose?” he asked, though I wished he hadn’t.

  “I…”

  He squeezed his arms around my body and said, “I know what you would choose. Don’t feel bad about it. But baby, when this is all over, when we’re free to live our lives and enjoy our time together, you won’t feel the same way.”

  “Maybe not,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bray

  One night of partying went by at Tate’s secret spot on the beach, but we didn’t sleep there that night. Elias got so shitfaced after drinking way too much whiskey that I thought he had alcohol poisoning. Since I was the most sober one among our group of seven, Tate tossed me the keys to his Jeep, and I drove us to a hotel in St. Petersburg. But not until after I got us lost and drove farther out of our way than I had to. It wasn’t easy navigating a giant Jeep Sahara through a state I had never driven through before, with a load of drunks and one very sick fiancé puking his guts up on Tate’s floorboard. Tate was too drunk to care. I held my breath the whole way, hoping like hell we didn’t get pulled over by the cops.

  I felt so awful for Elias. I pulled over twice to let him get some air. And by the time I got him into the bathtub and ran down the hallway with a dripping ice bucket in one hand, he had finally calmed down on the vomiting. I cleaned him up and helped him into the bed.

  I had taken it upon myself to get a room separate from everyone else. Tate said he didn’t care when I asked him as we stood at the hotel’s front desk. I put the rooms on his credit card. The front desk clerk almost didn’t rent us the rooms because we looked like a bunch of beach hoodlums and we stank like whiskey. But I think she took pity on Elias.

  It seemed like all of us slept for twelve hours straight. Except when check-out time came around—Tate woke up long enough to find me in the room next door, get his credit card back, and go downstairs to pay fo
r another day.

  By early evening, we were all awake and out on the beach, soaking up what was left of the sun. Elias was feeling much better. He said he doubted it was the alcohol that made him sick; it was probably the burritos we’d eaten an hour before he started drinking.

  “I’m telling you,” Elias said, “That felt like food poisoning. It wasn’t the alcohol. I’ve drank way more than I drank last night, and I never puked like that before.”

  I grinned at him. “Are you just saying that to make yourself feel better about drinking tonight?”

  “No,” he said. “But if I do drink tonight, I think I’ll lay off the hard stuff.”

  “Good idea,” I said, and laid my head on his arm as we walked alongside each other down the beach.

  Jen had a suitcase full of clothes with her in the Jeep, and she lent me a bikini. Elias didn’t care to swim, but Tate offered him his extra pair of trunks if he changed his mind. This was beginning to bother Elias. A lot. Tate paying for everything, paying for us, for me. I tried to tell him that it wasn’t something he could control. He couldn’t access his bank account. What money we did have was probably snorted up Anthony’s and Cristina’s noses by now. One last time Elias was going to call his father and give his dad access to his account somehow, so his dad could wire us some money, but I stopped him. It was too much of a risk.

  But either Tate was loaded or he just didn’t care about maxing out his credit cards. I couldn’t know. But he didn’t have any qualms about paying for everyone most of the time. Caleb paid for beer and food, but usually it was Tate footing the bill, except when we stayed at friend’s houses and such. That was pretty much a freebie all around.

  Before the night started to fall, Tate talked everyone into heading back to that secret spot on the beach, which was well over an hour from the hotel.

  We had already checked out of our room, and I had to pee, so before we got on the road I found a public restroom in a nearby restaurant. The stalls were full when I made it inside. I waited next to a sink, trying to avoid having to hold myself or do the pee-pee dance, until finally one toilet flushed and out of the stall stepped a girl with a blonde braid draped over her shoulder.