The Tenth Girl

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The Tenth Girl Page 11

by Aarons, Carrie


  Cain

  “Take me over there, my regular pew. You know the one, sonny.”

  Gramps points and I obey, the first mate to his captain on this Sunday exploration. We are at Immaculate Conception Church, the worship capital of Haven. It’s packed to the rafters on a Sunday at ten a.m., which of course is the only time Gramps likes to go. He has been coming to this church for seventy years, had been married here, and had watched me be dunked in that baptismal font when I was just a youngster.

  Like I said, I’m not a religious man. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a respectful southern boy who wouldn’t take his gramps to church at the old man’s request.

  I loop an arm around my grandfather and do as he says, walking slowly as he uses a cane in his other hand to help him hobble to his favorite seat. I smile and nod as we pass familiar faces; Coach and his wife, the woman who owns the diner I frequent with friends, the local radio announcer and his family of six, and Grady and his parents. He looks like a choir boy in his light blue suit jacket. I’ll have to make fun of him for that later.

  As we take our seats in the pew, I spot a familiar head of long corn silk hair just two rows in front of us.

  Beside Harper sits a woman with dark hair down to her shoulders, and on the other side of her is an older woman with a graying, short-cut bob.

  Must be her mother and her grandmother. I’ve encountered Mrs. Posy in town over the years, at church with my grandparents, and have seen her from time to time come out onto her land to observe the early hours of our parties. She seems stoic, Godly, a no-nonsense type of person. I wonder if that was why Harper has come to church, or if she is actually religious.

  Drilling holes into her head with my eyes must work, because she turns, her blue pools catching my green ones. I grin at her, wink, and she blushes. I love when that pale, creamy skin tinges pink. Her eyes burn and her strawberry-tinted lips curve up. We’re thinking about the same thing … our night in the alley just days ago.

  Fuck, just thinking about it has me semi-hard. In a house of God. I need to think about dead fish or something, but with Harper sitting just feet away from me, it’s impossible.

  She hadn’t even reciprocated that night and it had been … incredible. I’d never wanted to touch a girl more, to hear her unravel in my ear, to feel her body melt beneath my fingers. Harper was a virgin, now I’d confirmed it by popping her cherry. That was so fucking hot within itself … but I hoped I’d been gentle enough with her.

  Gentle enough?

  Since I’d met her, I’d had some kind of fascination with her. And I’d thought that it was because I wanted to spoil her, to take her virginity and add her to my list, like some kind of kinky collector. But I realize now that it’s more.

  Every time I am with her, whether it’s flirting in school or grabbing a bite to eat or hanging out a party … I want to spend even more time with her. When she trusted me enough to let me touch the most intimate part of her, I felt honored. Not in a sleazy, I’m going to get to third base, way, but in a way that meant we trusted each other and I wanted to make her feel good. Pure pleasure, just for her.

  Maybe … I could just forget the initial reason why I’d gone after her. What she never knew wouldn’t hurt her. Because from here on out, I want to pursue her, for real. This is beyond rational thought, I don’t have the time or maybe even the capacity to fall in love with a girl, but for Harper, I want to be that guy.

  Who the fuck was I? Sorry, God, didn’t mean to swear on your property.

  The service went by agonizingly slow, but I knew Gramps was content with being here and the old man didn’t have a lot of good days. I knew this because I was the one who spoke with the staff in my dad’s absence, who brought him the Lifesaver candy he requested and got him outside even when he told me sunshine was for suckers.

  As the priest gives us his final blessing, parishioners start to file out to the lawn, where an after-service picnic is being held. Everyone in their Sunday best, celebrating the holiness of the day. Yeah right, who were they all kidding? They were here to gossip, bless-their-hearts, and keep up with the latest golden families of Haven.

  Gramps is slow going, but I see the Posy trio of women sitting at a table under a big weeping willow tree, and direct him over to it.

  “Hello, Blanche, nice to see you,” My grandfather greets Harper’s grandmother.

  She gives him a small smile. “Jacob, I hope you’re having a blessed Sunday. And I assume this is the young man who has a golden arm and also seems unable to ring my doorbell when he takes my granddaughter on a date?”

  I pale under her scrutinizing gaze, and glance at Harper, who is holding her breath so as not to let out the giggle about to burst out of it.

  I extend my hand. “Mrs. Posy, I’m Cain Kent. I apologize about that, next time, I’ll remember to bring flowers for your garden.”

  Gramps is staring at me, his shrewd brows raised. “You best do that. I didn’t raise you and your daddy not to be gentlemen.”

  Harper’s mom is staring at me, a huge grin on her face. “Oh, I’ve so been waiting to meet you. Our girl has been practically giddy, I knew there must be a special boy involved.”

  “Mom!” Harper groans, embarrassed.

  She looks like an angel today, in a white sundress with her hair flowing freely except for the braid wrapping around the crown of her head.

  “She’s the special one, Ms. Posy.” I stick out my hand to her as well, and then hold my hand up to Harper in a quick hello.

  What I want to do is steal her away and kiss her silly behind the large trunk of the willow tree, but I refrain, planting my feet to the spot.

  “Blanche, he’s a charmer, my boy. He’s a good egg though, has a great arm. Going to the university a couple towns over next year, gonna be a big star.” Gramps beams proudly.

  “Harper, why don’t you take your charmer and go round us all up some lemonade?” her grandma instructs her, and I have a feeling she wants to grill my grandfather for more information about me.

  My heart didn’t thump like it used to when I thought I was doing something wrong where it came to Harper. Maybe God had absolved me. Maybe it was because I’d decided, in that church, to pursue her correctly. To actually follow through on a relationship.

  Maybe that’s why my heart was no longer drowning in guilt.

  “You look mighty pretty today,” I drawl, trying to be my best southern church boy.

  Harper bats her eyelashes at me. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself. I had no idea that football star Cain Kent owned a suit, or anything other than Haven Football gear.”

  I scoff, “You saw me at homecoming. I looked like a dreamboat.”

  “Humbleness is next to Godliness,” she jokes, as we sidle up to the refreshments table.

  I pour the lemonade and hand it to her, filling the cups one by one, I can’t help but bend down and plant a kiss on her cheek. “Do you think your grandma is going to kick me in the nuts?”

  Harper chuckles. “No, but she does have a shotgun. I’d definitely bring those flowers next time or you might be staring down the barrel of it.”

  I pretend to shiver with nerves. “So, you going to come to my game this Friday? Now that we’re dating and all.”

  “Who says we’re dating?” She tries to smile but I see the question in her eyes.

  She wants me to define what this is.

  And I want to be dating, after all of the bullshit that I’ve been weighing back and forth. “I do … that is, if you want to be with me?”

  After a second, Harper smiles, moving toward me even though she has lemonade cups in her hands. “I guess I could live with that. So where do I sit for this game?”

  I sling my arm around her shoulder as we walk back to the table, both balancing cups of cold juice. “In the student section. But you’ll wear my jersey, so that everyone knows you’re my girl.”

  “Ew, the jersey you sweated in? No thanks.” She wrinkles her cute nose.

  As
we near the table where our respective families sits, I grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll wash it. But I want you wearing my number. I’ve never asked a girl to do that before … it would mean a lot to me.”

  Harper looks up. “Then, I’ll be there, in your jersey.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cain

  Raise the Cain! Raise the Cain! Raise the Cain!

  Even though we’re playing in enemy territory, on another team’s field, the chant for my touchdown rings out into the Friday night lights above.

  My heart is pumping so fast that I can hear the blood whooshing in my ears. We’ve fought tooth and nail for this win, and in another forty-five seconds, we’ll have pulled it out.

  I’m sweating, even though the temperature has dropped to an unseasonably cool fifty degrees. Up in the stands, people are wrapped in blankets or sporting winter coats.

  Standing on the sidelines, I should be watching our defense shut down the only offense still standing in the way of our trip to the state championship. But I’m not. Instead, my head is twisted back over my shoulder, looking for the one face in the crowd that I want to find.

  A couple of bleacher rows up, standing next to Imogen, is my girl. Harper. My jersey is enormous on her small frame, more of a dress over her layers of long sleeves and sweatshirts than a shirt. She has one of those soft, furry-looking earmuff headbands pushing back her blond hair, and I can see that the tip of her nose is red.

  My heart beats double-time, it’s such a turn-on to see her standing there in my jersey. Like I belong to her, and she belongs to me.

  I haven’t really advertised that we’re dating, although I’m sure the gossip mill of Haven High has assumed since we’re always together. And I haven’t told my friends that I’m dropping out of the competition. I’m still trying to figure out the best way to avoid a seismic eruption from anyone in my life … meaning no one finds out anything that will hurt them.

  We win the game as the cheers erupt from our section of the opposing team’s stands, and after standing in a line to pat the backs of the losing players, I head for the locker room.

  My post-game shower and dress is so quick that I’m pretty sure the tips of my wet hair will freeze when I go outside, but I want to catch Harper before she drives home. Not that I won’t see her there in an hour, but I could use a post-game congratulatory kiss. Or seven.

  As I head for the parking lot, I see our team bus, and someone standing right next to the folding doors makes me stop.

  Annabelle Mills leans against the side of the school bus, her cheerleading uniform pristine.

  “I see you have a new girlfriend. Thought you didn’t do those, Cain. Oh wait, you just don’t do relationships. You ruin them for other people.” Anna’s face contorts into an ugly sneer.

  Annabelle and I had drunkenly taken each other’s virginity during winter break of our freshman year. It was something we both never should have done, but it was my first tally mark for the competition.

  For Annabelle, it meant ruining the relationship she was in, with a senior baseball player who kicked my ass at the time. And since then, she blamed me for ruining her and all of the heartbreak that followed. She felt like I owed her something, like another chance or another lay because I’d somehow fucked-up her life.

  “What happened between us, Anna, it was a mistake. We both know that. But what you did to Boone, that is on you. I was single, you had some agenda with your boyfriend or whatever he was. You made that decision.”

  I was tired after the game, wanted to do nothing more than sit on this bus and text Harper, now that I couldn’t even kiss her, and I didn’t need Anna in my face right now. She and I had had this fight a dozen times over the years, and tonight, my victory night, was not going to be ruined by her queen bee shit.

  “Don’t talk to me about Boone. Ever,” she snaps. “I’m telling you, that trailer trash girl is beneath you.”

  My blood heats with anger. “And I’m telling you, do not talk about Harper. Ever.”

  A sneaking smile lights her face. “Oh my God … you like her? You actually like this … this slut.”

  “Anna, I swear to God.” My fists ball up, and while I’ll never hit a woman, I may punch the brick building next to her cheek.

  She hoots a laugh. “So instead of having sex with her, like your little competition rules lay out, you fell for her? This is too good. Cain Kent, I never thought I’d see the day. Serves you right, messing up my life like you did, now you’re in love with a dirty peasant. Karma is a cold bitch.”

  I’m not even listening to her insulting Harper, because my mind is still stuck on the fact that she just referenced the competition. “How do you know about those rules?”

  My mouth is dry and my breaths are coming out in puffs. Anna is going to bring this all toppling down on me. If Harper finds out just how much and how long I’ve been lying, she’ll never forgive me. She’ll never see me again.

  Annabelle’s grin is pure evil. “Oh, Cain, are you really that naïve? Everyone who is anyone in this school knows about that pissing contest between you and the boys. You’re lucky we keep letting you do it, unencumbered. But … I think little miss Florida Keys might deserve to know what the guy she considers her boyfriend is up to. His real motives. Because to you, she isn’t your girlfriend, right? Or at least I haven’t heard any chatter about you two making it official.”

  My veins sing with fury, my heart thumps with the guilt and yearning that mix when it comes to Harper. I should have told her from the jump, immediately when I knew I was developing feelings I should have come clean and bowed out of the competition. I care too much about her now, and don’t want to lose her.

  But with this hanging over my head, with Annabelle holding the axe that can chop it all down … it’s bound to come out.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell her, Cain. My allegiance is to you, after all. We’re cut from the same cloth, unlike Harper. But I can’t wait to see her face when she does find out.”

  Annabelle saunters away merrily, like she’s just helped the homeless instead of killed a cat.

  The bus ride home is a nightmare. Instead of celebrating that we made it to state, I’m jonesing. My leg is rattling like a drug addict, I’m jumpy and sweating, even though the game was over more than half an hour ago. My mind keeps racing through scenarios of Harper finding out, and they all end with my heart aching like it was sliced open.

  As soon as we get back to the high school, I jump in my Jeep, hightailing it out of there to the shouts of my teammates, yelling about where we are going to party.

  I could care less about that.

  I drive straight to Harper’s house, not caring what time it is. I pull to the end of the drive, and text her.

  Cain: Meet me in the fields by the woods.

  Harper: Two minutes.

  She must be anxious to see me too.

  I sneak through the property, careful to stay in the shadows of the trees at the edge of it, and fearful of Harper’s words about her grandmother’s shotgun.

  True to her word, she comes running quietly at me from the fields, the house behind her back in the distance. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, and soon she’s jumping into my arms, straddling me as I absorb her impact.

  She crushes her lips down onto mine, and I thrust my hands into her hair, fiercely jutting my tongue against hers.

  It’s in this moment that I know I’m head over heels for this girl. Like a snap of fingers, the idea is tangible and real, it almost makes me drop to my knees with Harper in my arms.

  And I know I have to protect this against anything that could tear us apart.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cain

  I’ve fallen for her.

  This was never supposed to happen. Harper was supposed to be a mark, a conquest. I’m so blinded by my feelings that I’m thinking about talking to my friends about love?

  I have to stop this. Once I leave Haven, I’m leaving everyone in i
t behind as well. I have dreams, goals. There are so many things I need to focus on, besides Harper Posy, to get me to where I want to go.

  That all-too-familiar urge starts bubbling inside my chest. Poisoning the feelings that have built so rapidly for a girl I only met two months ago. Only one of my friends has ever seriously become involved with a girl, and he’s the only one that I trust to give me advice. And not go blabbing to our other friends that I might be in love.

  Will sits at a desk in the library, the world around him gone as books are piled up surrounding him. To be honest, Will is not your typical football player, and yet, he’s just always been part of the friend group. He’s nerdy, has a serious girlfriend, likes to get good grades, doesn’t have an ultimate dream of getting to the big time.

  “Bud,” I say in greeting, and sit down in the chair across the table from him.

  Will looks up, nodding. “Kent, what’s up?”

  He’s in the middle of studying, and I can see that I interrupted him, so I go for the jugular. “I think I might be in love.”

  I swear, Will almost snaps his pencil in half he’s so surprised. “Um … excuse me?”

  I can feel a blush creep over my cheeks, and I hide my eyes under the visor of my hand. “The girl I’m seeing, how do I know if she’s the real deal? I’ve never …”

  My voice trails off and I can see Will’s mouth turn up in a smile. He’s smug, the bastard. “You’ve never felt anything for a girl other than the stir of your dick?”

  “Something like that,” I grumble.

  Will taps his finger to his chin. “Well, do you want to see her all the time?”

  I thought of Harper’s pixie face. “Yeah.”

  “And when your with her, does your heart feel … like it’s melting?”

  “Yes,” I admit in a hushed tone.

  “Holy shit, I never thought I’d see the day. Hell must have frozen over.” Will’s shit-eating grin makes me ball up a piece of notebook paper and throw it at him.

 

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