If I’d Known

by Rebecca Donovan

  "Right."

  A dark pit opens up in the bottom of my stomach. There isn't anything I can do to make this right. The one person who deserves to go down for this is evidently untouchable--and not just because his grandfather would pay to cover it up, but because everyone I remotely care about would suffer, myself included, if I told the truth. I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to scream.

  Joey clears his throat, drawing my attention away from all the ways my life sucks right now. "I probably don't want to know this, but how do you know my brother?"

  I stop breathing with the question, not sure how honest I should be right now. I'm not about to tell him that Parker was my first kiss. I don't think Parker even knows he was my first kiss. It was two summers ago. I was thirteen, almost fourteen--don't want it to sound that bad. Parker and Joey are from Oaklawn, so Parker didn't know anything about me. He thought I was sixteen--not because I told him. He assumed, and I didn't correct him.

  Tori and I learned the art of dressing a certain way and applying makeup just right so that we appeared older. I started covering shifts for my mother at Stella's around that time, so I'd also acquired the attitude to back it up. No one's ever questioned my age, even if I can barely see over the bar. It's all in how you present yourself to the world, and I had no fucks to give ... until tonight. It helps that I possess an ID that says I'm twenty-two. None of the bars we go to ever blink twice at it. But we live in Sherling. They'd rather have the bodies in the bar and money in their tills.

  The first party Tori and I crashed was this high school party at a two-family house a few streets over from Tori's place. Parker was there on "business," just stopping in on his way to a party of his own. But he ended up staying. I may have had something to do with that. He was smooth--still is--saying all the right things and focused on me like I was the only girl in the room. As aloof as I may have tried to act, I was jumping around and screaming with excitement on the inside. Here I was, at my first party, and this absolutely gorgeous guy was hitting on me. I wanted to die!

  I did my best to play hard to get. I didn't give him my number when he asked for it. Actually, he still doesn't have my number. But when he leaned over in that dark corner I was pressed against, his arm resting on the wall above my head, I didn't move. I didn't push him away. I didn't turn my head. I stood there, perfectly still, and let him press his lips to mine. He teased with slow, playful kisses. And when his tongue entered my mouth, he was slow and gentle. It was ... perfect. I think my knees would have given out if the wall hadn't been holding me up.

  That was the first and last time Parker Harrison ever kissed me. And it's the kiss I will never forget.

  Parker must have asked around about me after that because the next time we saw him out, he was pissed. Kissing a thirteen-year-old wasn't exactly good for his reputation, no matter how old he thought I was. He had just graduated and wouldn't have been caught dead with a junior, forget about a girl who hadn't even entered high school. Then he saw Nina with us ...

  Once they happened, he was completely off-limits to me. Even when he came around again and got to know me better.

  I refuse to give him a chance, no matter how many times he asks.

  I must have been quiet too long because Joey suddenly says, "Forget it. Don't tell me."

  "It's not like that. We just ... see him around," I assure him, trying to sound casual. "He and Nina have a thing. Or whatever. And he sometimes goes to the same bars we do in Sherling."

  "You have a fake ID?" Joey asks in surprise.

  "You don't?"

  Joey shrugs. "I don't really use it. It's one of Parker's old ones. I've never tried to get into bars. The town where I go to school is too small. I'm afraid I'd get busted with it. But I buy beer outside of town sometimes." He shifts uncomfortably again. "So ... he and Nina, not ... " Joey shakes his head. "Never mind."

  "Nothing's going on between me and Parker."

  "Sorry," he says with a weak smile. "It's happened before ... "

  I laugh. "You and your brother have hooked up with the same girl?"

  "No," he replies adamantly. "This girl and Parker had a ... thing, and when he ended it, she thought I could be the perfect revenge. Except, I couldn't stand to talk to her, let alone kiss her."

  "If I remember right, you don't need to talk to kiss," I tease.

  I swear his cheeks redden. "You know what I mean."

  I've been trying to figure out Joey's curse since the party. But whatever it is, it isn't obvious. As much as he looks like a mussed, youthful version of Parker, he is nothing like him. And so ... I guess I should stop comparing them.

  "I wouldn't use you as revenge," I tell him sincerely. "I'm not interested in your brother. Most of the time, I wish I didn't know him."

  "Me too."

  I roll my head against the seat to face him, my cheek pressed against the cool leather, expecting him to be joking. But he just stares out the windshield, his expression a bit solemn. When Joey looks over at me, he offers a half-smile, just enough to give a hint to the dimple on his right cheek.

  "This night ... " He lets out a dry laugh before looking back out the windshield with a shake of his head. "I'd say I wish it was over, except ... " He looks at me again, peering right into my eyes. "I keep thinking it'll get better."

  "It did. For a couple hours," I say with a weak smile.

  The Jeep slows and Joey turns down a dark drive. The headlights shine on a large wooden sign--Oaklawn Country Club. We follow a long road that splits the golf course in half, eventually reaching an expansive building with a wall of windows.

  A small Clubhouse sign is posted in the middle of a dimly lit circular drive where a chandelier glows above carved wooden doors. The building is dark with no signs of movement behind the glass. Joey continues to the left side of the clubhouse where a Deliveries sign beckons us into the shadows.

  Parking the Jeep on the far side of the dumpster, Joey shuts off the engine. We're not completely concealed here, but at least the Jeep won't be obvious if someone drives by. Unbuckling his seat belt, Joey shifts to face me. He doesn't say anything. We just look at each other, a thousand words confessed within a few seconds of silence.

  "You going to be okay?" he asks. The question he's asked so much tonight.

  "If I'd known--"

  The ringing of his phone keeps the truth from leaping off the tip of my tongue.

  Joey looks from me to his beckoning phone, hesitant. He lifts it from the cup holder. "It's Parker," he says apologetically, sliding his thumb across Parker's face to answer it.

  Panic rushes in like it never left, quickening my heartbeat, stealing my breath and tying my stomach into intricate knots. I fight the urge to rip the phone out of his hand and demand to know if Allie's okay ... if she's alive.

  I stare at Joey as he listens, trying to read the expression on his face with each nod. But he won't look at me, and his eyes give nothing away. I'm about ready to scream when he shifts and holds out the phone.

  "Parker wants to talk to you."

  I stare at it without making a move to take it, suddenly afraid to know the truth. I glance at Joey. His brows rise in encouragement. I smile weakly and accept it, slowly bringing it to my ear.

  "Yeah?" My voice is weak.

  Music blasts through the speaker. I can hear Tori and Nina singing out of tune at the top of their lungs.

  "Hello?" I say louder when no one responds.

  "You have nothing to worry about." Parker's distinct voice cuts through the noise.

  "What do you mean?" I can feel Joey watching me. "Is she--"

  "She's fine, Lana. A broken leg and a concussion. But she'll recover," Parker assures me. "And no one saw you. The guys who found her are contracted not to disclose anything. Keep quiet, and all's good. Nothing's going to happen to you. I've got you."

  "Okay," I respond quietly, trying to let it all sink in, ignoring the fact that he still thinks I'm the reason she ended up at the bottom of the stairs. And he obviously d
oesn't know about the screaming girl who thinks the same thing.

  "Who are you talking to?" Nina demands impatiently, her voice slurred.

  "I'll see you in a bit," Parker says, hanging up before I can ask which hospital she's at.

  I slowly lower the phone and hand it back to Joey.

  "She's going to be okay." Joey reaches for my hand, enveloping it in his warmth.

  Tension immediately seeps from my muscles. Just like that ... I can breathe again, my chest visibly collapsing with the release of air.

  "Would Parker lie? Do you think she's really okay?" I ask, knowing how much trouble this could mean for Parker. I've learned to never underestimate what someone is capable of when they're desperate and have everything to lose.

  Joey hesitates thoughtfully. "I don't know how he could cover it up. He's done some questionable things to protect himself, but ... he's not a bad guy."

  "How can he keep someone from talking?" Regardless of whatever influence Parker has over people, I strongly doubt his weak threats of denied access to a party or social suicide would keep mouths shut.

  "I don't think he can," Joey answers simply. "But what can they say other than a girl fell? No one knows, not even the people working there, that he's one of the organizers. And only you and Vic know the truth. They'll have to change locations just in case, but I don't think Parker has anything to worry about. Neither do you."

  "Nothing to worry about," I tell myself. Is that true?

  Allie's alive. That's a good thing. And she's the only other person who knows what really happened.

  Chapter Nine

  "But he told me he loved me." My mother's words come out muffled with her face buried in the pillow.

  I stand by the door, peeking in. I'm supposed to be in bed, but my mom's crying woke me up.

  "And why would you believe him?" my grandmother asks, scowling down at her daughter with her arms crossed. "How many times do I have to tell you, those words are the most poisonous lies ever spewed from a man's mouth?"

  "Want to sit on the green with me while we wait for them?" Joey asks, taking my hand and kissing my palm.

  I smile gently. "Sure." I watch him get out of the Jeep. Maybe this day doesn't have to be a total nightmare.

  Joey meets me at the back of the Jeep. His sweatshirt hangs low on me, creating the illusion that it's the only thing I'm wearing. He fights to hide a grin when he sees me. If he says something stupid like, I like you in my clothes, I'm going to throw it at him and get back in the Jeep. Wearing a guy's clothes has this weird effect on them, like it's some twisted sign of ownership. And I'm not a possession. Joey offers me his hand instead. I accept it, relieved he keeps whatever comment I saw flash across his face to himself.

  We pass between a line of small evergreen trees that separate the delivery area from the golf course and carefully tread down a steep embankment until we're on the finely groomed golf course. Joey leads us to a circular area where the grass is even shorter before letting go of my hand to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him.

  I untie my wedges and sink my feet into the lush, cool grass. Sitting down next to him, I pull my knees up to my chest and stretch the sweatshirt over them.

  "Are you cold?" Joey asks, wrapping an arm around me and tucking me against his side.

  "No, I'm good." I lean into him, resting my head on his chest.

  It's so quiet here, it's almost unsettling.

  "What colleges are you considering?"

  The question seems so out of nowhere. I lean back to look up at him. "What?"

  "When we were in the car, Nina said you were going to college. Where are you looking?"

  "She was holding a gun to Vic's head, and you remember that?" I ask, laughing.

  Joey shrugs with a lopsided grin. I laugh again.

  "I have no idea why she said that," I tell him. "My guidance counselor keeps sending me home with brochures. But I haven't really thought about it."

  "Why not?"

  "Why should I? Having a college degree doesn't mean I won't end up working at a coffee shop when I graduate, except I'll have a shitload of student loans to pay off on top of it."

  "Don't you have dreams of becoming something ... more?" He studies me intently, waiting. I don't know what makes me more uncomfortable, the question or that he's honestly interested in my answer.

  "More than what? College won't change who I am," I say, shifting my focus away from his scrutinizing gaze and leaning back against his side. "I'm not sure what the point is ... wanting more from life than I've already been given. Money doesn't make you happy. I can't see how working eighty hours a week will either."

  "Then what will ... make you happy?"

  "What's with these questions?" I counter evasively, sitting up straight so that his arm falls away.

  "Hey," he soothes, scooting closer and setting his hand on my waist, "I'm just trying to get to know more about you."

  "Why?"

  "Uh ... because I like you," he offers carefully. "We don't have to talk about you, if you don't want to."

  "Let's not."

  I know I'm being a bitch and should feel bad, but honestly, I don't trust anyone who wants to know more than my name. And I'm not sure how to explain that to him without making it awkward.

  "Would you rather ask me questions? Or ... we can just sit here. They should be here soon."

  And now ... it is awkward. Crap. Why do I suck at this so much?

  I search for something, anything, to say so it's not so tense. I've never dated a guy or even been out on a date. We go to parties and bars where small talk is just that. Stupid, mindless conversation that leads to making out or getting felt up in a dark corner. Even the guy I regularly hook up with keeps the pillow talk to a minimum. It's just about the sex, and that's completely fine with me. I don't want anyone to get to know me.

  "Tell me something embarrassing," I blurt.

  Joey lets out a short laugh. "We can't talk about you, but I have to reveal something embarrassing? That's fair."

  "Maybe if you share something vulnerable, I'll feel more comfortable."

  I bat my eyes at him dramatically. He chuckles.

  "Umm ... " He searches the sky in contemplation.

  "Don't think too much about it. The first thing that comes to mind."

  "The first time I had an erection, I was in church."

  "Wha--" I can't even get the word out before I burst out laughing. "Details."

  I know that if I could see him clearly his face would be bright red.

  He continues, "This really pretty girl was sitting in front of me--I think she went to school with Parker actually--and during the greet-your-neighbor part of the sermon, she turned around, and when she bent over to hug me, I got a face full of boobs. Let's just say, I held on tight until my grandmother swatted me with her purse."

  "What'd the girl do?" I ask, still chuckling.

  "She laughed, especially when she saw the tent in my khakis. My grandmother was mortified, and my mother yelled, 'William!' so loud that half the church turned around and stared at me cupping my crotch. I had no idea what was happening or how to make it go away. It was undeniably the most embarrassing moment of my life."

  My stomach's hurting I'm laughing so hard "That's amazing!" I finally catch my breath. "Why'd she call you William?"

  "My full name is three first names, and everyone calls me something different. It even confuses me sometimes."

  "Joseph William Harrison?"

  He nods slowly. "That's it."

  I raise my eyebrows. "Add some Roman numerals to the end and you could be royalty."

  Joey laughs. "I'm the furthest thing from honorable."

  "Really?" I question, leaning in until we're a breath apart. "I don't know if I believe that," I say, tempting him with a salacious grin.

  I watch his mouth part. His eyes don't leave mine. He wraps a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him.

  I close my eyes, anticipating the touch of his
lips. And when they finally find me, my whole world stills. A lightness overtakes me, swirling in my head. His mouth caresses mine, stealing my breath. A small moan escapes at the caress of his tongue. I can't breathe, but I don't want to. I grip the front of his shirt, needing to get closer. Needing him. His arm tightens around my waist. I am lost in him, in this kiss.

  Joey slowly pulls away, our breaths mingling in quick pants. His hand still cups my neck as he gently presses his forehead to mine. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that."

  Before we can connect again, his phone chimes.

  With an apologetic groan, he leans away and pulls it out of his pocket. He reads the screen, then looks across the golf course to the far side of the clubhouse. "They're here. Told us to meet them at the pool."

  Four silhouettes approach the waist-high fence surrounding the pool and climb over. I only have a second to process what they're planning before I see someone, who I assume to be Nina, pull her dress over her head.

  I turn back to Joey. "Not yet. Okay?"

  He grins and nods before texting a reply and setting the phone beside him on the grass.

  Without hesitating, he pulls me onto his lap and I straddle him, our lips crashing together. We are not gentle--groping, groaning and grinding. Our breathing is as frantic as our heartbeats. My fingers tangle in his hair. His hands slide under the sweatshirt and grip my bare back. I don't pull away to breathe. I could seriously die kissing him.

  Joey pulls the sweatshirt roughly over my head and flips me so I'm lying on top of it, his body pressed to me. His mouth tastes down the lines of my neck and into the revealing slope of the halter. I wrap my legs around him and tilt my head back, consumed by his touch. I tug at the edges of his shirt, desperate to run my hands along his skin. He separates long enough to yank it over his head and toss it on the grass.

  His body crushes me in the best possible way and I gasp.

  "You feel so good," he murmurs against my neck, sucking the skin below my ear.

  I grip him tighter, moving beneath him.

  He groans with a heavy breath. "Oh god, Lana, I love you."

  I freeze.

  Joey begins to lift my shirt, and I grab his hands, stopping him.

  "Get off me."

  He looks down at me, confusion surfacing beneath the lust. "What?"