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Her Hometown Girl

Page 11

by Lorelie Brown


  “Really?”

  No, not really. I’m lying through my liar teeth and I don’t know why. I can’t make my mouth shut. “Yeah, I like to be in my classroom around six thirty.”

  Holy crud, there go more lies. Lightning is going to strike me dead. God’s going to tell me to get going once I get to the pearly gates.

  “I sleep in.” She rubs my arm, and I know part of me could respond. I could turn my face and kiss her mouth, and she’d start us all over again. Maybe that’s what I need. What I want. “It’s what comes with having such late hours usually.”

  “We’re ships passing in the night?” I wish I would stop saying stupid stuff, but there’s panic at the back of my throat and I cannot stop. “I don’t want to wake you up too early.”

  “Maybe I should go.”

  “No,” I say, but Yes, I think.

  And she hears the silent me. She pushes up until she’s sitting, then bends down to kiss me. We taste like sleep twined together, but then she pulls back. “Shit, your car.”

  “I’ll get a Lyft. I have a credit. I referred a friend,” I say in a rush. Because when I lie, I always pile it on thick? I’m such an idiot.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  I have zero interest in getting on a motorcycle at this hour, but I have no freaking clue how to say that to her. For a brief moment, I consider rolling onto my side and feigning sleep. Maybe it will work if I pull my pillow over my head. I don’t know if I can sleep without a light, though.

  Alternate plan. I shove myself into Cai’s personal space instead. Head on her shoulder, arm across her ribs, my hips against her thigh. I make a noise like I’m so very tired even though every nerve in my body is on high alert. “I’m so tired.”

  “Uh-huh.” She’s not buying it, but she’s not pushing me either. Instead she curls her arms around me. Her chin comes to rest on the top of my head. “Sleep, little one. Just sleep.”

  Except of course I can’t. I’ve painted myself into a corner. I’m practically vibrating with awakeness. Is that even a word? I don’t care. I can’t figure a way out of this. “Tell me about your sister.”

  And poof, just like that. she’s as stiff as I am frantic inside my head. “Xue?”

  It’s cruelly reckless, but either I’ll understand her a little better or she’ll pull away and leave me safe in my quiet darkness. “Yeah.”

  Silence spins out for one breath, then three. I’m not sure which way she’s going to break, and then she drags in a breath that’s slow and deep and too shaky for saying she’s off, thanks for the good time. “She was so fucking brilliant. Everything my parents wanted. The perfect daughter.”

  “But you weren’t?”

  She doesn’t answer. I picture her staring at the ceiling. I hate the dark. It’s heavy. I feel it on my skin and in the way I try to fill in the shadows with what I should be able to see.

  “She was in pre-med and acing it. She worked so hard. Her whole world revolved around studying. I was already partying a little bit. Having her as my older sister meant that I couldn’t measure up no matter what, so I sort of stopped trying.”

  “Going to parties doesn’t mean you’re not trying.” I play with the ends of her hair. I love how long it is. At some point she must have gotten out of bed, because she’s wearing her boy-cut panties again. I’m still in my underwear too. It feels strange to remember what we did hours ago and still be even partially dressed together, but I’m grateful at the same time. I’m not ready to be naked in the dark. With her, I mean. “You enjoyed being with friends and having a good time.”

  “Yeah, but I was barely making it through my classes. Cs get degrees,” she says with a wry tone. “Except that didn’t really go over well with my family. We’re fourth generation American, but Mom still put lots of emphasis on grades. And, like, if I were in a Lifetime movie, I’d have made some miraculous turnaround after Xue died, and it would all be this big lesson about living to my fullest potential. Mom never said it, but I know she thought maybe I’d go into pre-med also.”

  “Maternal expectations can be rough. My mom’s coped okay, but the biggest problem she’s had is me living so far away. She’s always pictured me living in Idaho. All the generations nearby, you know?” I roll over and click on my bedside lamp. The shade makes for a diffused yellow glow over Cai and me. “You’re really pretty.”

  “Thanks.” Her hair is a black river around her shoulders and over her breasts. Both her knees are bent, casting shadow over her panties. I’m drawn to the hard line between her ribs and the slide down to her stomach.

  I didn’t take the time last night to really look at Cai’s tattoos. They’re almost overwhelming in a mix of dark and color. I spread my hand over the soft skin beneath her shallow navel. On the left is a grinning skull in dark colors. A fine spider web drapes around it and spills across her lower stomach. It’s grim but so perfectly crafted that it’s hard not to admire the delicate lines and gradient shadows. “When did you get this one?”

  “About … four years ago? I think. A friend of mine did it. Brooke was in training, and she needed to give out some ink.”

  Even though I know better by now, I’m still a little surprised to touch the skull and not be able to feel anything but Cai’s silky skin. The texture is so intricate that it should feel rough like bone would. But it’s a part of Cai. “I’d be really nervous about getting a permanent tattoo from someone who was still in training.”

  “We all have to learn sometime.” She points to the front of one of her thighs, which is covered with a portrait of an elephant in an intricately designed frame. “I did this one.”

  “Upside down?” I twist around on the bed so that I’m facing it properly. I tug at her knee in order to make her lay her legs flat. “You did this upside down?”

  “Yeah. I had time and needed to practice.” She pushes up onto her elbows. “Check out the bottom-right corner. I really fucked that up.”

  Once I zero in, I think I see what she’s talking about. “Where the lines go together?”

  “Yeah. Still annoyed about that. But it’s like fifteen years old and still hanging in there, so I guess I did okay.”

  “That’s an understatement.” The elephant is staring straight out from the portrait with a lifted trunk. Her eyes are weary. “She’s so stately. She’s seen a lot. Run from poachers. But maybe she’s still trying to live the life she wants to.”

  I look up and realize Cai’s watching me instead of looking at her tattoo. Because duh, she’s been living with it for years. There’s nothing new in this art that she carries with her. I still admire mine daily. I can’t imagine it becoming a forgotten part of my existence.

  I think I’m blushing. The tips of my ears tingle. “Is that stupid?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, still watching me the whole time. “Not stupid.”

  “But totally over the top. Sorry.”

  “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Don’t apologize.” She catches my hand and pulls on it, and I do that stupid thing again where I flinch and yank away. I smile and immediately put my hand on her stomach, but I don’t think she’s buying it.

  I’m such an idiot. My insides are shaking. I hold my hand where it is, hoping she can’t tell. “Okay,” I say blithely, as if I didn’t just show off my damages. “I’ll give you all my weird brain dumps. No problem.”

  Her eyes are narrowed. She sees right through me. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  There’s a long, slow beat of air that can’t find its way into my lungs. She covers my hand with hers. Our eyes are locked. It’s a screwed-up game. Her fingers wrap around mine. I’m still fine.

  She tugs.

  I yank backward hard enough that my butt skips four inches across the bed. I drag my legs up so that I’m a knot. “What the fuck?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’d be fine if you weren’t trying to haul me around.” I cross my legs over my chest.
“I think you should go.”

  “I think we need to talk about this.”

  I jump off the bed and grab a pair of pajama pants from an open box full of clothes. “There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t like being shoved around.”

  She pushes up to a seated position on the edge of the bed. She’s naked but for her panties. I’m rapidly getting dressed. I can see the death spiral, and I can’t shove my foot in my mouth fast enough.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. She’s so calm, so rational, as if she’s intentionally trying not to let the situation escalate. So naturally that only makes me feel even more out of control. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here.”

  “Nothing. Like I said.”

  “I’m not going to push,” she says. “I hope you know that you can tell me anything.”

  She stands and comes closer to me. Her hands lift as if she’s going to soothe a wild animal. I think that makes me the animal in this situation. This has gotten completely out of control. I reach out and grab her, lacing her fingers through mine. It’s easier to do than I would have thought. My shoulders unlock enough to relax into a straight line.

  “There’s nothing to tell. Really. I don’t know why I freaked out.” I put a smile on my face. “I’m tired and it’s late and I have to get up so early. Plus the kids take so much out of me. I’m being weird, and I really didn’t mean to.”

  I hold my breath and my smile. Don’t ask, don’t ask, chants through my head. What we did together earlier in the night was so good. I don’t want anything about Jody tainting the memory of being on my knees in front of Cai.

  Besides, there really isn’t anything wrong. I’m overly sensitive. That final night was the crashing end of a relationship that had never been healthy. It wasn’t worth this response. Even my brain is blowing it out of proportion. There’s no way I could explain this to Cai and sound anything less than crazy. I don’t want to talk about it.

  She squeezes my fingers and moves close enough that she’s inside my space. Our hands are at our hips. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. Totally. It’s fine. I’m fine.” If I say it enough times, maybe it’ll be true.

  “Do you want me to go?” One of her nipples is playing peekaboo from behind the curtain of her hair. She’s so confident in herself. Nothing about her seems to faze her. Her tattoos are impenetrable armor.

  “It might be for the best. I have to be up in only three hours.” I desperately want her to go, and I badly want her to stay at the same time. I don’t know how to sort out my own head. “Work tomorrow …”

  “Yeah. I get it.” She cups the side of my face in one hand. Her touch is soft. I lean into it and let my eyes close. “Just … tell me if you need something. I’ll give it to you if I can.”

  Tansy

  “Why are you still at the school?”

  I’m twenty-five minutes into a conversation with my mom when she drops the question. There’s a hundred things I could be doing, but Mom and I have been building a new relationship over the past couple of months. I didn’t talk to her much when I was with Jody. It was hard to have a conversation without Jody needing something, or asking questions while I was still on the phone, or jumping into the topic and insisting I put it on speakerphone. I hadn’t noticed how short my conversations with my mom had become until it was too late.

  I’m flat on my back on the rug in our library nook, my feet up on a padded bench that I usually use when I’m reading to the kids. On the wall above me are the natural disaster projects they turned in last week. Corbyn has a really nice eye for emotion in her drawings. The fear on the faces of the earthquake victims is surprisingly real. I guess that’s what Sunday afternoon drawing classes with a Cal Arts student will do for you.

  “I had a lot of grading to get done,” I tell Mom.

  “Couldn’t you take it home?”

  “It’s not exactly cozy there. I haven’t really unpacked.” I sigh. “Honestly, I haven’t unpacked at all.”

  There’s something clattering on the other end. Mom’s making dinner. “You’ve been in that apartment for two months. You know what I say. A tidy room …”

  “Makes for a tidy brain. Yes, Mommy,” I tease. “I heard that a thousand times when I was a kid.”

  “I’m going to send your brother out there.”

  “Mom, no!” I sit up in a panic. “What?”

  “He’s bouncing around the house like a bum ever since he got laid off at the factory. He needs something to do.” She’s got that note of determination in her voice. “He’ll come unpack for you.”

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  “It’ll be good for you and good for him.”

  “Mom, you can’t.” I rub my forehead. It’s not that I suddenly have a headache, but I can feel the pressure of my brains trying to scramble out of my head because I can’t figure out how to solve this. “Justin’s got a life. He’s not your proxy to send off.”

  “Not much of a life, he doesn’t.” She makes a tsking sound. “That Johnson girl dumped him, and I can hardly blame her. He was at the bar flirting with Rebecca Wilkins. You know her. She was a year behind you.”

  Life in a small town is such a weird little dance. There are certain things that are wholly public and other parts that are never talked about. “Is there anything you don’t know about his life?”

  She gives a tuneless hum as she thinks about it. “I don’t think so? Oh! I don’t know what kind of porn he likes, thank goodness. But I swear to god that’s about it. I need a break from him, Tansy. I haven’t had a quiet dinner with your father since Justin moved back in.”

  “So that’s what this is about. Not me unpacking.”

  “Do your mom a favor.” Water’s running. I wonder if she’s making pasties. Probably not. Too much work for an average weekday. She’d save that for Sundays, when Nanna comes over for what’s left of family dinners. I miss those. “I need to get laid.”

  “Oh my god, Mom,” I shout. I sound like a humiliated teenager, and I don’t care in the least. “Don’t do that to me!”

  “I’m just trying to build honesty,” she says, but she’s laughing too. “Transparency is important in relationships.”

  “I hate you.”

  “So I can send Justin?”

  “Don’t you dare.” She can’t see it, but I’m wagging a finger. “How about I come visit instead?”

  “How does that solve my problem? That’s even more people in my house.”

  “Don’t you want to see me?” Mostly, I want her to stop talking about her sex life. Forever. “I’ll bring a friend. She’d like hunting, I think.”

  “A friend?” It’s very much like Mom for her to narrow in on that part. “Like a friend-friend? You’re not already dating, are you?”

  “No,” I say, because I don’t really know what it is that Cai and I do. We’ve seen each other a couple more times, but we haven’t had sex again. Some make-outs, but not sex. Part of me agonizes about having freaked Cai out, but another part of me has enjoyed the slow burn. Things aren’t as heavy as my relationship with Jody, and I can’t help but feel like that alone keeps it more casual. Being with someone is supposed to be work, and with Cai it’s just fun. No matter if we’re playing PS4 games or hunting for the best taco truck, life is good.

  “We talked about you having some time to just be yourself.”

  “Yeah, this is fine. It’s no big deal. She’s my tattoo artist.”

  “Your tattoo what?” She’s practically screeching.

  Bingo. That got her off the trail. “Yeah, it’s on my calf and it’s really pretty. You’ll love it. I’m going to check in with Cai—that’s her name—and see if she can get off work around my October break.”

  Because the children attending the academy are the offspring of the rich and entitled, they can’t go an entire month of school without having at least a four-day weekend. As a result, we have a random vacation break in October. I’m definitely not complaining. It
’s the perfect time for hunting white-tailed deer in Idaho.

  “You’re going to come visit?” Mom’s getting excited now that the idea is sinking in. “How long can you stay?”

  “I can probably stay the whole week. I’ll see if Cai wants to just come up for part of it, or if she has the time off or something. I don’t know if she exactly gets vacation hours.” Probably not, now that I think about it.

  “This will be wonderful! I’ll call your nanna. She’s missed you so much.”

  “I know.”

  It’s been four years since I’ve been home. Jody saw to that. It was never that she said no, we couldn’t go visit, but she made it so very, very hard. I managed to talk her into a trip for Christmas our second year in college. She picked a fight with me the night before. I think it was about taking the trash out—I was nagging her by reminding her, even though the can was literally overflowing and I had nowhere to dump the coffee grounds. She slept on the couch that night and ignored me when I woke her up to go to the airport. Flat out ignored me and pretended to sleep.

  It’s humiliating to remember the way I begged her to come to the airport and how I apologized for asking her to take the trash out. I couldn’t imagine showing up in Boise with an unused ticket and having to explain why my oh-so-wonderful girlfriend decided to bail at the last minute.

  Then she made it harder and harder for Mom to visit me.

  I cried alone in the bathroom when Mom and Dad quietly sent back their RSVP card marked not attending.

  God, I had no damn spine.

  “This’ll be great,” I find myself saying, and I mean it. This isn’t just about keeping Mom from sending Justin to do my unpacking. I want to go visit now. I need to smell the mountains. With or without Cai, for that matter. If I show up alone, that is one hundred percent A-okay with me now. “See if Uncle Theo can come too.”

  “Sure! Of course!” Mom’s bubbling over. “You go buy tickets. I’ve got to make calls. We’ll go shopping too.”

  “Oh, no way. You’re not getting me into Sam’s Buckle Emporium.” I laugh.

  “They have some cute shirts! I need you to tell me how to wear skinny jeans.”

 

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