As usual, Molly and Chase walked together, sharing a joint. I didn’t join them, even though they offered. I did bum a cigarette from Molly, thinking I’d at least have something to do while I walked silently next to them, trying to get into the conversation they were having about some college course Molly had taken on 18th Century poets. Chase surprised me with his in-depth knowledge about dead guys who wrote supposedly profound pieces of literature. I didn’t have much to add to the conversation, being a fan of poetry only in the form of song lyrics.
When we reached the beach, we were greeted by many of the same people I’d met the night before, who all seemed to know Molly and Chase. I also noticed that Cute Coffeehouse Guy was back. He was playing a series of Pearl Jam and Nirvana songs that were some of my personal favorites. To me, there was nothing better than classic alt. rock, so after getting my beer, I took a seat on a log that was near the fire and listened to him play Yellow Ledbetter and Heart-Shaped Box.
His dark hair hung down over his face when he played, shielding his eyes. I watched his fingers in amazement, as they flew across the strings, recreating a melody that looked incredibly complex. Having no musical talent myself, I was instantly in awe that he could play some of my all-time favorites. His scratchy, raw voice made my mind race with inappropriate thoughts, just like it had the night we’d met.
After a few songs, he put down his guitar and looked around. Aside from me, there was a couple making out on a different log and two girls who seemed to be in some kind of heated debate that I suspected was a lover’s quarrel. Every once and a while, one of them would throw up her hands in frustration. I definitely did not want be a part of that conversation.
Just like last time, Coffeehouse Guy looked at me for a brief second, as if he thought he knew me, but didn’t say anything before he got up and walked toward the keg. Then I was alone by the bonfire, looking like an idiot, because I not only had no one to talk to, but I also had nothing to do. My drink was gone, but I didn’t dare get up to go to the keg for fear that Coffeehouse Guy would think I was following him. So I sat there for a few minutes, playing with the hem of my dress.
I was just about to get up and walk around when someone sat down next to me. A cup of beer was put in front of me. I took it and looked over at who had put it there, expecting Molly or Chase, but it wasn’t either of them. Cute Coffeehouse Guy was sitting next to me, sipping his beer and looking at me appraisingly. I noticed a small ring in his right eyebrow that definitely hadn’t been there the night we’d met.
“Go on, drink it,” he said. “I promise I didn’t put anything in it.”
“Thanks, I think,” I said, smiling slightly. “I honestly wasn’t thinking it was laced until you mentioned it. Now I have to admit I’m a little skeptical.”
He smirked at me before flipped his dark hair out of his eyes and looked out at the bonfire.
“Naw, I wouldn’t do that.”
I studied his profile. He seemed to be lost in thought. His eyes had a far off look in them. It was the same look I’d seen at the coffeehouse when he’d zoned out for a few seconds, but it seemed to be etched deeper into his eyes. I took the opportunity to gaze at him without fear of getting caught. He had a strong, straight nose, a feature I found to be essential in order for a guy to be hot. His lips were full and pink, and totally kissable. I was drawn to them. I wanted to reach out and touch them, trace them with my finger.
Before I knew what was happening, Cute Coffeehouse Guy turned and looked right at me, catching me staring at him.
“Are you checking me out?” he asked, smirking slightly. His sexy southern accent made him exponentially hotter.
I felt my face blush scarlet and instantly looked down at my lap. Then I decided that I wouldn’t let that embarrass me. I was checking him out, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. The new, more confident me was pushing her way to the surface.
“I was,” I said, trying to sound bold, as I took a long pull from my drink. I wasn’t nearly intoxicated enough for this conversation.
“And?”
“What do you mean, and?” I asked, noticing how clear his eyes were with the firelight bouncing off them, as they looked down into my own brown ones that seemed so dull all of a sudden.
“And what do you think?”
God his accent was sexy. I don’t know if it was the beer or the fact that I was suddenly interested in throwing caution to the wind, but I said matter-of-factly, “You have very kissable lips.”
He laughed, a big, robust laugh, before looking away and shaking his head. “Oh yeah?” he asked, as he looked back down at me, his hair falling forward into his eyes a bit.
I nodded and reached my hand up to push his hair out of his eyes, not really knowing what was surging me to be so brazen with a guy I hardly knew.
“Do you want to kiss them?” he asked, half-mocking, half-serious once I brought my hand back down to my lap.
“Yes,” I said, honestly. “But I have a boyfriend, so no.”
He shrugged. “That’s too bad. Kissing you would have been fun.”
With that he picked up his beer, got up and walked over to a group of people I’d met the night before. As he walked, he pulled out the brown cigarette that had been resting behind his ear and put it in his mouth, lighting it with one hand. I was left sitting on the log, completely dumbfounded, as I tried to wrap my head around what had just happened.
I decided that I needed some air, so I walked down to the waters edge, letting the cool breeze blow over me and the water rush and then retreat over my bare feet. I looked back for a moment and located Coffeehouse Guy still talking to the group of people he’d joined. He looked up and met my eyes for a moment and smiled. I looked away, embarrassed that I’d gotten caught staring at him again. Then I snuck another glance back and got all warm inside when I realized he was still staring.
That night I went to bed thinking about him and his very kissable lips. The next morning, I woke up feeling very guilty for thinking about his lips and vowed not to even think about straying from Ben again.
Chapter Twelve
Fortunately, I didn’t see Coffeehouse Guy or his kissable lips for the next few nights. He wasn’t at any of the parties we went to, even though, I am ashamed to admit, I looked for him.
As our second week at the beach wore on, the days sort of melted together into one with small variations between them. My dad came up for the weekend, so we did family stuff during the day, like kayaking and fishing. My parents were intent on making some family memories, corralling us kids together for some good clean fun. But at night, while my parents sipped wine on the back porch and enjoyed the limited time they had together, we were free to do what we wanted.
During the week, while my dad was back at work in Charlotte, my mom allowed us the freedom she knew we wanted. Every day Chase and I would go down to the beach. Sometimes Molly would join us, and when Keely wasn’t with Matt, she would meet up with us. Chase and I still maintained our mostly silent interactions, but we were hanging out, so that had to count for something. At night I would follow him and Molly to the beach for a bonfire or to someone’s house for a party. It seemed Molly knew everyone around our age on the island.
She explained that she’d been summering there since she was three. She had family in the states, so for a month each year, her family would come over from England and they would gather with her mom’s sisters and their families. They were all staying in the huge house we’d picked Molly up from that first night.
As I got to know her, I dropped almost all of the preconceptions I’d gained from her overall look, the fact that she hung out with my brother, and that she smoked weed. I was starting to let some of my walls down little by little, as I tried to open myself up to the new and different world that was suddenly all around me.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that not everyone was as ‘out there’ as Chase and Molly. In fact, most of the people we hung around were normal on many levels. That first night, I
must have had tunnel vision thinking that I was so different. I’d met many people who dressed just like me and probably had lives similar to me at home. I wasn’t that out of place, as it turned out, but even still, I was set on broadening my horizons.
So it was almost fitting that the week after I’d met Molly and was exposed to this new side of myself, I decided to do something drastic, something significant to make the summer memorable. I decided to get my nose pierced.
A piercing had never been something I’d wanted, but I felt the need to do something bold, make a statement. I figured a nose ring was somewhat tasteful and it seemed less of a cliché than the belly button rings that so many girls had, including Rachel and my sister.
Once I made my decision, I went directly to someone who would know all about it. I talked to Molly. She was all for going with me, but she insisted on something I’d never done before as a preparation. She said she’d smoked before getting every one of her piercings, which I learned she had six – nose, lip, tongue, both nipples and one in a more private area that made me cringe as she told me about it. She said smoking helped her to relax and stifled some of the pain.
But I just couldn’t do it. As much as I didn’t want to judge her decisions, I knew smoking wasn’t for me. So she insisted I at least be buzzed, telling me there was no way I’d want to be sober when I saw the needle they’d use. Unfortunately, all she could rustle up was whiskey. So I grudgingly choked down three shot glasses full of the brown liquid that tasted like rubbing alcohol and burned my insides as it went down.
It was disgusting, but it succeeded in essentially numbing my senses just enough that when the needle pierced through my skin, I only screamed a little. Molly held my hand and let me squeeze it as hard as I wanted, which must have been pretty hard since she let out a breath relief when I finally let go. Yeah, okay, so it really hurt.
The next morning, I stood in front of my mirror for a good twenty minutes looking the tiny sapphire stud in my left nostril trying to decide if I liked it or not. It still hurt like hell and was a little red right around the area that had been pierced, but overall, it looked pretty good. I’d wanted a hoop, but the piercer guy had made me choose a stud with a straight post, so I went with my birthstone. He said I could change it out in a few weeks once it healed completely.
I brought my finger to the tip and touched it lightly, feeling a mix of exhilaration that I’d done something so radical and dread for what my parents would say. Of course, Chase had a facial piercing, and they didn’t care, but again, he was Chase, and I was me. It was a double standard most of the time when it came to us doing certain things. With him it was expected, and with me it was frowned upon.
Keely was the first person to know since she showed up in my room a few minutes after I got done ogling my reflection and was changing into my navy blue bathing suit that I thought would match the sapphire in my piercing.
Her eyes bugged out for a second, but then she smiled and said, “That is so cool. I totally want one.”
I laughed at her, telling her I would be happy to go with her, if she wanted me to. She said she’d think about it, so I knew her desire for a third hole in her nose was short-lived. Still she kept staring at me as we made our way downstairs, shaking her head in disbelief.
Chase was more surprised than anyone. He was at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Trix when Keely and I came downstairs. He looked up briefly, then looked down for a second before his head rocketed up again and he squinted at me, probably trying to determine if he was really seeing what he thought he was.
“No way,” he said in disbelief. I just smiled, as I got a bowl from the cabinet. “No fucking way.”
“Chase,” I heard my mother call out sharply from the living room where she was doing the crossword puzzle from the newspaper. “Language.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled to her, then turned to me as I sat down and reached across the table for the box of Trix. A little softer, he whispered, “You pierced your fucking nose?”
I smiled again. “Sure did.”
“Mom’s going to freak out.”
“I know,” I said, the smile now plastered on my lips. “But she’ll get over it.”
“Damn, Em. What’s gotten into you,” he said, and I could tell liked the changes I’d gone through since we’d gotten to the beach.
I shrugged. “I was ready for a change, I guess. Besides, that’s not all I did,” I said, cryptically.
“What do you mean?”
I leaned back in my chair, excited to tell my brother about my foray into hard liquor. “I did some shots – whiskey,” I announced quietly, watching his expression the whole time, unable to keep the perpetual grin off of my face.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said loudly. “You did not!”
“Chase!” came my mother’s voice with a little more intensity this time.
“Sorry, Mom,” he called back, rocking on the back legs of the chair, so he could see her around the corner of the entry to the kitchen. He shot her one of his ‘I’m so innocent’ smiles that always won her over. Then he rocked back forward, putting all four legs on the floor, leaned forward and stared at me intently.
I shrugged, knowing he was patronizing me just a little.
“Well it’s about damn time you did something radical,” he said, leaning back in his seat again. “Sweet little Emily doing shots and getting her nose pierced. Unbelievable.”
I leaned forward, appraising him. “Maybe I’m not so sweet anymore.”
Chase just laughed. “No, you still are, you’re just a little cooler now.”
“Whiskey tastes like shit,” I said, as I poured milk on my cereal, remembering the harsh taste of the alcohol.
“It’s an acquired taste.” He stared at my nose for a few more seconds before leaning back again. “You should have smoked,” he whispered, shooting Keely a look. “It numbs the pain more, but of course you wouldn’t do that.”
I bit my tongue and took a deep breath, knowing how bitter the apology I was going to offer would taste.
“Look, I know that I might have, possibly, in the past, maybe been a little emotional about the whole weed thing.” Chase raised his eyebrows at me. “And, I might have been a little judgmental when it probably wasn’t my place.”
“Did you actually smoke?!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down so our mother wouldn’t hear him.
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. It’s not for me, but maybe I’m not going to be so self-righteous about it anymore, okay.”
“Really?” he asked, clearly not believing me.
I nodded. “I might not understand your infatuation with it, but who am I to judge. It’s your life.”
“Are you actually apologizing for being so hypocritical?” Chase asked, his eyes practically bugging out of his head.
“Yes,” I said, forcing the word out.
“Wow.” He shook his head a few times, as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“Oh, thank God,” Keely said, sounding relieved, which utterly perplexed me. I gave her a questioning look, but she didn’t answer. Chase did.
“She’s been getting high with me off and on all summer,” he explained which caused my jaw to drop, as I looked over at my little sister. “She lied when she told you it was just the one time.”
“Chase,” Keely said, shooting him a look that said she was afraid of how I would react.
“Seriously?” I asked, looking at her, then at Chase, and back to her. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known.
I was honestly upset, but not for the reasons I’d been before. I was suddenly more hurt that Keely had formed a relationship with Chase long before I had, as if she’d seen what was there all along when I’d been a hypocritical snob. But I knew instantly why she’d kept me in the dark, and I honestly couldn’t blame her. I would have kept me in the dark too. I cringed looking back at how intolerant I’d been for so long. And why? It seemed so ridiculous.
“Yeah,” Keely said softly, t
hen louder and at a rapid pace, as she took in my expression, not sure how to read what I was thinking. “I was so afraid to tell you. I knew you would judge me, like you did, so I didn’t say anything. It’s not that bad. Lots of people do it. I’ve only done it like ten times, but I like it when I can’t sleep or when I’m really stressed out.”
I took a deep breath, forcing the lecturing words down, as I had just promised not to do that, but it was hard to fight what I’d done for so long. Self-righteousness didn’t go away easily when you’d embraced it your whole life. I had to tell myself that it wasn’t my business.
“It’s okay, Keels,” I said, forcing myself to sound like I meant it, because in all honesty, I did. “I’m not upset. It’s fine.”
She looked instantly relieved and started eating her Capt’n Crunch again.
“Shit, this is too much,” Chase said, laughing into his cereal bowl. “I never thought you’d be cool, Em. Didn’t think I’d ever see it.”
I blew off his slight dig as I realized my brother and I, were not only being civil to each other, but we were actually becoming friends. It was a strange concept, but it was also something I hadn’t realized I wanted until it was right in front of me.
Smiling along with him, instead of getting angry because he was making fun of me, I picked up a dry orange piece of Trix and threw it at him. It hit his cheek and bounced into his bowl.
“Thanks, sis,” he said, not fazed in the least as he returned to his cereal.
I did the same, thinking about how much of my life had changed in such a short period of time, and it was all good as far as I was concerned. I felt lighter than I had in years – until I thought about how Ben would react to it all.
Chapter Thirteen
The day after I got my nose pierced, I’d received lecture number two of the summer from my mother. After feeling good about Chase and Keely’s reactions, my mood suddenly plummeted when my mother walked into the kitchen to refill her coffee cup and nearly dropped it on the floor.
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