The Summer Before Forever

by Melissa Chambers

  She scooches her chair up next to mine. “Don’t do that. Don’t look back. We had no idea. And all that talk, that was just fun between us. A fantasy.”

  I wipe another tear. “I didn’t understand.”

  She rests her head on my shoulder, wrapping her hands around my arm. “He’s an idiot. A gross, disgusting idiot.”

  I give a humorless chuckle. “I didn’t think he was gross before.”

  “You didn’t know him. Neither of us did. You liked what you saw on the outside…what he portrayed. He’s good-looking like that. His gross comes from the inside, which is the worst kind of gross.”

  “I can’t help it.” I clench my fist at the frustration of it all. “I just feel so stupid.”

  She lets out a huff. “If liking a cute boy makes you stupid, then you just called every girl in the world an idiot. Congratulations.”

  I can’t help a smile. It’s times like these I feel so lucky to be the one who nabbed her for my best friend.

  I rest my head on her head and imagine our roles being reversed—her feeling like the idiot and me consoling her. Nope, doesn’t add up. She would have backed out the second she felt uneasy, taken control of the situation before it got out of control, or just walked away at the party and joined another conversation. That’s Jenna.

  I lift my head. “Where does your confidence come from?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I was just born this way. I don’t know how else to be.”

  “Did you ever get nervous before you took the stage on America’s Newest Sensation?”

  She huffs out a laugh as she looks off at the football players. “I got excited. Like freaking ecstatic.”

  “Even knowing millions of people were watching you?”

  “I didn’t think of it like that. There were cameras there, but they were just machines. The studio audience wasn’t nearly as big as they make it look. When I would walk out on stage, I’d find a few select people in the audience and split my time singing to them and to the judges. I zoned everything else out.”

  “Guys?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Little girls, mostly. They look at you like you can do no wrong…like you’re the most amazing thing they’ve ever seen. How could I not have confidence with someone looking at me that way?”

  Jenna’s ability to surprise me never fails. All this time I’d imagined her making eye contact with cute guys in the audience as she sang, her confidence being boosted by their attention. And the whole time she was connecting with little girls in awe of her…probably ones who reminded her of herself.

  I shift my gaze to the football guys. Landon goes long and catches a pass just before another guy jumps him.

  Jenna pulls her feet up onto the chair. “It’s kind of like the way Landon looks at you.”

  My belly ignites at her words. I roll my eyes. “Please.”

  The game breaks up in the distance, and Landon walks toward us.

  “Did you sleep with him last night?” she asks.

  I jerk my head toward her. “No.”

  Her face opens in a grin. “Don’t ever play poker.”

  I run a finger across my forehead, chin down. “I…fell asleep on the couch.”

  “In his arms?”

  I shift in my chair, my stomach gurgling. “It wasn’t like that.”

  She laughs, grabbing my forearm and giving it a squeeze. “It’s totally fine, Chlo-Jo. He’s legit. He’s how it’s supposed to be.”

  He jumps over a picket fence and heads our way while I consider her words. “I think you might be right.”

  She stands up and stretches. “You doubted that?” She turns toward Landon who is stepping onto the patio. “Talk about gross.”

  His hair is damp from sweat, face and neck covered with red splotches, his freckles more prominent than usual. Even like this he’s super hot…maybe even more so.

  Jenna pinches her nostrils together as she slides open the patio door. “I hope you’re showering before dinner.”

  He runs his fingers through his hair and then flicks his sweat at her. She scoots inside and then sticks her tongue out at him from behind the sliding glass, giving me a quick wink before she walks away.

  He squeezes the football in front of his chest, which causes his muscles to flex, and…wow.

  “How was your shopping trip?” he asks.

  I adjust myself in my seat. “Good.”

  He notices my forty-something manicure, which makes me hide my nails.

  “Was my mom okay?”

  I smile. “Your mom is awesome.”

  He nods and tosses the football up in the air. “We’re all set.”

  “For what?”

  He holds his hands out to the side. “Self-defense class.”

  I sit up in surprise. I guess I didn’t believe he’d follow through. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Tomorrow at one. Is that cool?”

  “Yeah…sure.” I’m not sure I’m ready for it, but it is on the list, and I really do think I need to do it. I don’t ever want to be caught in a situation like I was on that pontoon boat and have to rely on someone else to help me. I thank God every day that man who helped me was hanging out on his houseboat that night.

  “Cool.” He goes for the sliding glass door. “Is my mom cooking?”

  “We got Chinese.”

  “Sweet.” He lets himself inside and disappears, leaving my confused brain in a whirl.

  On the one hand, he makes the most fantastic brother. He’s sweet, caring, concerned…

  But on the other hand, holy erupting volcano is he hot.

  Jenna and I sit on my bed waiting for Landon who just came in from work promising he’d be quick in the shower. To keep my mind occupied and out of the gutter, I’m making Jenna listen to some of my music.

  “Okay, so maybe this one isn’t barfable, but that last one was,” she says.

  “Oh, please. That guy on that song you just played me said he wanted to chew the girl’s gum. That’s disgusting.”

  Jenna crosses her hands over her heart. “So cute. He thinks she’s so hot he even wants her gum germs.” She pulls her own wad of gum out of her mouth and offers it to me. “Chloe Stone, will you chew my gum?”

  I bat her hand away, which makes her try to put her gum on me. “Get away from me, nasty!”

  She makes kissing noises while she pretends to stick me with her gum, and I hold up a pillow in defense. “Okay, quit. It’s your turn. Go.”

  She pops her gum back in and picks up the phone, poking away at it. “Okay, this one is Ariel Loveall.”

  “You did one of her songs on the show, didn’t you?”

  She looks proud. “Very good. Yes I did. But not this one. This is from her new album.”

  I close my eyes and take in the song. The girl’s not bad. Maybe not even as good as Jenna, but it’s the song I like more than her voice. It’s pop but with an Indie edge.

  I sneak a peek at Jenna, and she’s got her eyes closed, but she’s mouthing all the words with passion like she’s dying to belt them out, but keeping restraint so I can hear the song without her embellishments. I love her for loving music with me, even if we don’t always agree on what we love.

  I close my eyes and refocus just in time to catch an interesting lyric.

  Nice to meet me, look out world.

  Giving up is easy, but I’m no goodbye girl.

  I like it. I think I’m ready to go kick some potential attacker behind.

  The song ends, and Jenna and I open up and meet each other’s gazes. “Well?” she asks.

  “I give it a 9.5. I can dance to it.”

  We turn to find Landon at the door doing a little dance move. Jenna rolls her eyes and then hurls a pillow at him, which he combats with a karate move.

  He points at the pillow.
“Did you see that? That’s how it’s done, ladies.”

  Jenna gets up off the bed and forms a karate stance, looking about as threatening as Dora the Explorer. “Prepare to meet your ultimate demise, unworthy opponent.” She moves her mouth in between words like a dubbed foreign film.

  She yells and ascends on him with her pointer and middle fingers extended ready to poke his eyes out. He stops her by resting a straight up hand on his nose and forehead. She puts her hands on her hips.

  “What?” he says. “That’s a classic Three Stooges move.”

  “Did my dad get you into that?” I ask. I used to catch him watching it when I was a kid.

  “The Three Stooges are awesome. I’ve loved them for years,” he says.

  Jenna shakes her head in disappointment. “Boys.”

  I pocket my phone. “Are we ready?”

  We all head down the stairs and out to Landon’s car. Roth is walking up the driveway.

  Landon turns to Jenna. “Oh yeah. Roth wanted to come.”

  She gives Landon the stink eye.

  “Hey,” Roth says, red-faced.

  Jenna grabs him by the shirt. “Get in the back with me so we can make out.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  “No.”

  Fifteen or so people hang around the studio, mostly women, but a handful of men as well.

  I lean in toward Landon. “I think we’re the youngest ones here.”

  “You might be right.”

  Jenna messes with Roth giving him fake karate blows, which he seems to adore and only gives moderate effort in fending off.

  A woman breaks away from a group and stands in front of us.

  “Hello everyone. I’m Connie, your instructor. Three years ago I was attacked in broad daylight in a grocery store parking lot. I was mugged, pistol whipped, and lucky as hell I wasn’t put in the trunk of a car.”

  I swallow hard, my chest constricting at this woman’s bluntness. I’m sure she’s got reason to scare the crap out of us all, but it’s not necessary…at least not for me. I’m already sufficiently freaked out.

  Landon must sense my freakiness, because he takes my hand and squeezes it, which both calms me and raises my heart rate at the same time.

  “Unfortunately, many of us don’t learn to protect ourselves until we are confronted with our vulnerability. If you’ve been attacked before and you’re here to remedy that for the future, you’re not alone.” She points at her own chest for emphasis. “No matter why you’re here, you’re going to leave this class with the knowledge and tools, should the situation arise, to defend yourself and get the hell out of Dodge. Why don’t we start by going around the room and introducing ourselves, and if you like, you can say what brought you here.”

  She looks directly at me, likely because I’m at the top of the semicircle we seemed to have formed. Why couldn’t I be standing somewhere in the middle…or end…or in the parking lot? I look up at Landon, my voice seeming to have temporarily left my throat.

  He squeezes my hand again. “This is Chloe, and I’m Landon.” He leaves it at that. And this is why I love…like him.

  I let go of his hand because my palm is starting to sweat and clam up. Introductions are short and sweet until we get to a woman who starts to tear up just by saying her name, and the room gets completely silent while she collects herself and begins to let her story out through stilted breaths. While I can’t make out her words, the look on her face tells me all I need to know.

  As the instructor goes to her with a concerned but stern demeanor, the enormity of my own situation slides down a few notches. This woman’s attacker was clearly way more successful than mine. How incredibly lucky I am falls on my head like a ton of bricks. The thought had crossed my mind a handful of times, but not like this. As this woman’s face reddens and contorts, and her friend and the instructor console her, my throat threatens to close, but not out of my own self-pity. I feel for this woman and the part of her that was lost to her attacker.

  Landon puts his arm on my back. “Are you okay? We don’t have to stay.”

  I shake my head vehemently. “I’m fine.” I mean it, so I give him a smile to prove it. He nods in reluctant approval, and I inhale a deep breath as the instructor backs away to take her place back in front of the class.

  Two and a half hours later, we are paired off to practice what we’ve learned. The teacher makes her way around the circle critiquing our technique with a big guy covered in a foam suit for real contact since I can’t actually hit Landon. Though checking out Jenna and Roth, I’m a bit concerned she’s unaware that she isn’t supposed to actually make contact with the palm of her hand to Roth’s nose.

  I turn to Landon, and he extends himself to his full six plus feet, shoulders out broad. He wiggles his fingers. “Bring it on.”

  “I think you’re supposed to attack me,” I say.

  “Don’t I need the practice, too?”

  I cock my head to the side, resting my hands on my hips.

  He grins. “All right.” Without warning, he grabs my wrist.

  Instinctively, I try to pull it away. He lets go, shoulders sagging.

  I close my eyes, clenching up. “Sorry,” I say. “I just—”

  “I’m not the teacher here or anything, but I’m pretty sure you don’t need to apologize to your attacker.”

  I let out a deep breath and gaze up at him. “Okay, let me try—”

  He grabs my wrist again but this time with the opposite hand. It’s a different technique when grabbed cross body, but my instincts ignite, and I kick at his knee while I do the wrist twist thing Connie showed us that ends with me pulling him away…except I pull him toward me and we bump bodies like we’ve just made a big play on the field.

  I giggle as he gives a chuckle. “That was better,” he says.

  “Okay,” I say, getting into it now. “Choke me.” I turn around and take in a heavy breath, readying myself.

  “Wait,” he says. “If you’re going to do that groin hit thing, I’m going to need that guy’s suit.”

  I laugh. “I’m not really going to hit you there.”

  On cue Roth gives a squeal and Jenna says, “Whoops.”

  I laugh harder, which gets me a look from Connie. I want her to know I’m taking this seriously, so I straighten up. Connie’s full-on watching me now, which makes my stomach quiver even more than just the thought of Landon lurking behind me, ready to throw his arms around my neck at any time.

  When he strikes, I close my chin down on his arm, take a step to the side and grab his wrist, hand to groin, then elbow up in one fluid motion. Landon lets go of me, and I turn to face him. He’s grinning like crazy. “That was awesome.”

  I can’t help but match his grin. I let out a satisfied breath and tuck my hair behind my ear.

  Connie claps. “Very nice, Chloe.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Landon, would you like to try a move on Gus?” She motions toward the foamed up guy.

  Landon takes a step out to the side, rubbing his hands together, looking a little too excited. “Of course.”

  The guy bum rushes Landon, trying to grab his shirt, but Landon is too quick for him, leaning to the side with a knee to the groin that hits so hard the guy loses his footing and falls backwards.

  Landon goes to him. “Shit, man. I’m sorry.”

  I laugh. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to apologize to your attacker.”

  He turns to me with a look, giving the guy just enough leeway to take Landon out at the backs of his knees, leaving him on his butt on the mat.

  With a red face and a smile, Landon holds out his hand to the guy. “Touché, my man.”

  When class is dismissed, Landon turns to me. “Well, what did you think?”

  “I think I’m really glad we did this. Thank you for setting
it up.”

  “No problem,” he says. “You’ll have to try these moves on your dad when we get home.”

  I chuckle at the idea—my dad and me facing off in the living room, laying hands on each other…even in demonstration of an attack, the idea of that sort of intimacy between us is laughable. But as strange an idea as it is, I can’t help but be excited about showing him what I’ve learned…kicking his ass…the look on his face when he sees I can handle myself.

  Landon checks his phone. “Speaking of, your dad texted a while ago. He and my mom are having a date night. He wants me to take you and Jenna to dinner.”

  I check my own phone and come up empty of texts. I can’t help but be let down that my own dad texts Landon and not me. I’m not even copied on the text he sent Landon. Part of me wants to shoot off a belligerent text, something like, “Yes, I’m fine that you would like to spend time with your fiancée who you live with, and not your own daughter who only drove across three states to spend time with you. No problemo.”

  But then the reasonable part of my brain holds up a stop sign, reminding me this is just one more time I don’t have to drum up awkward conversation with him.

  “Is that cool?” he asks.

  “Yep. Sounds good.”

  Landon

  The girls insist on a change of clothes before we have dinner, so we stop back by the house. Jenna has apparently been giving Chloe hell about eating the gourmet grilled cheese without her, so we agree to go back to the village here at the resort for dinner.

  In case their credit card machine is down again, I prepare myself with neatly lined and orderly cash in my right pocket to pay with, and a single five dollar bill for a tip in my left pocket. Chloe was kind enough to let me off the hook without explanation for the money disaster last time, but I have a feeling that was my last pass without questions.

  Alongside Roth, Jenna prances across the sports lawn at the village ten feet in front of Chloe and me in brown cowboy boots and a pair of Daisy Dukes so short they’d make a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader blush. As we maneuver around the volleyball net, a rogue ball flies directly for her, and as she puts a fist up to protect her face, the ball bounces off of it and magically falls right back into play where a dude spikes it across the net. Players on both teams clap, and Jenna looks around in mock surprise.