Hale Maree

by Misty Provencher

  But Amy doesn’t let go. And she’s laughing.

  I’m white-hot screaming, trying to cling to the passing beams, but Amy yanks and pulls and drags me along. We pass the red post as Oscar swims in the other direction.

  “What are you doing? Let go!” I shout. “I can’t swim! I CAN’T SWIM!”

  “Amy! Let go of her!” Oscar shouts, but he’s doing everything he can to keep both his and Landon’s heads, above water. I see him struggling to pull Landon through the water even faster.

  “Stop! STOP!” I holler. Amy lets go, but she turns on me like a rabid dog.

  “You’re going in!” Amy laughs. “Least you can do is take a dunk. God knows I got soaked...”

  She swoops down, her nose centimeters from mine. I grab hold of a post as I scream back at her, “What are you talking about?”

  “He was mine!” Amy shrieks. She grabs hold of my fingers, prying them backward off the post.

  “He’s still yours! Oscar’s trying to help him, don’t you get it?”

  “Mine?” she grunts. Every time she gets one hand loose, I wrap the other arm around the post. Oscar pauses to look over his shoulder, and then resumes at a clip toward the shore, towing Landon with him.

  Not getting anywhere, Amy jumps up and grabs my hair. She pulls backward so hard; I can’t help but let go. It feels like she’s ripping my head in half. She drags me away from the post as I try to stop her from scalping me.

  “He was supposed to be mine!” she barks. “But he picked Sophia. They should’ve been over! Rick was gonna make sure...”

  “Rick?” I shriek. “You sent Rick after Oscar?”

  I see the rage roll over her as she realizes her mistake. The answer she gives me is pulling her leg back and firing it at me, hitting me in the side. I grunt with the impact and fall backward. Amy leans down and punches me in the face.

  “Time to go swimming, bitch,” she growls, digging her fingernails into my arm. I’m rigid with fear of the water, and my temple throbs. Groping for a post to hang onto, my eye begins to pulse with the pain as she jerks me toward the edge of the dock. I’m going to die. I glimpse Oscar dragging Landon onto the shore as I get hold of another post. I cling to it, and the whole dock begins to shake, as Amy tries to tear my grip loose and push me in. She’s going to throw me in, and I’m going to die. I shut my eyes and hold tight, screaming.

  “Get away from her!” Oscar’s voice cuts through the noise. Amy shrieks as he wrenches her hands from me. Oscar grabs her and throws her over the side of the handrail. She screams, and lands with a splash.

  Oscar tips my face up to him and growls, “What did she do to you?” He sucks in a breath as he scans over my face.

  I hear Amy cursing and splashing around in the water, and I think I’m going to throw up. My head is throbbing in the back and in the front, and I want to stay where I am, curled on the dock, even though the sound of Amy’s splashing petrifies me. Oscar lifts me into his arms and I whimper.

  “She knew,” I whisper to him. “She knew Rick Tatum.”

  Amy flails toward the shore, howling from the water, “I’m gonna drown! Landon! Help me, I’m gonna drown!”

  Landon stands unsteadily, at the end of the dock as Oscar steps off, and Amy washes up on the shore. She crawls out, coughing.

  Oscar’s voice vibrates through his chest as he shouts at her, “You better stay the hell away from me, Amy! All your shit will be on the front lawn in about ten seconds, and you can walk home for all I care!”

  “Nooo,” she howls after him. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I was just drunk...”

  But Oscar carries me up to the house, and Landon follows us inside.

  “Are you okay, Hale?” Landon asks, even though he doesn’t sound okay himself. Oscar lays me down on the couch, and when he flips on a light, Landon gets a look at my face and breathes, “Holy shit.”

  Since my left temple seems to have it’s own heartbeat, I figure it’s got to be pretty bad, even though I can still see fine out of it. Oscar brings a bag of frozen peas, which makes me yelp when he applies them.

  Amy lifts the latch on the back door, and Landon storms her. “Out! I saw Hale’s face! What the hell is the matter with you?” he yells. Startled, she lets go of the door handle, and Landon yanks the door shut, throwing the lock. “Stay the fuck out!”

  Landon’s veins rise up on his forehead as he crosses the room to the inflato-bed. He grabs armloads of Amy’s things and shoots across the living room to the front door. He swings it open so hard that the knob hits the wall. Once outside, he whips Amy’s things off to the side of the driveway. Something shatters, and pair of her panties catches on a shrub branch.

  Amy appears as Landon’s hauling out a second load of her things. He dumps her bag, and tosses her shopping bags at her feet while she shrieks at him. I don’t think Landon says a word. He comes back inside and slams the door.

  “Sorry about the door, buddy,” he grumbles, and Oscar says, “No problem.”

  Landon stomps into the bathroom and slams that door shut too. I watch as Amy gathers her stuff. She sighs, she kicks things, and finally, she piles it all up beside Landon’s car and sits on his trunk.

  “She can’t walk home in the dark,” I say. I’m not being sympathetic. I’m trying to figure out the fastest way to get her gone.

  “I know,” Oscar says, as the bathroom door swings open. Landon comes out and grabs his keys.

  “I’m driving her back to wherever there’s a bus,” Landon says. “Where’s a bus?”

  “Town,” Oscar says. “You sure you should be driving?”

  “I’m fine,” Landon grumbles. Oscar gives Landon the directions, and Landon grabs his keys and heads out the door. He tells Amy to get the fuck off his trunk, but otherwise, the two don’t talk. Land gets into the driver’s seat and just pops the trunk as he starts the car. In the glow of the taillights, Amy loads her stuff into the trunk alone. When she’s done, she slides into the passenger’s seat, and Landon’s back tires spout gravel and sand as they take off down the driveway.

  Oscar sits down beside me on the couch. He runs his fingers over the back of my head. I wince. “She got you back there too?”

  I nod. He gets up, and comes back with a bag of frozen green beans this time. The peas are still on my face. He puts the beans on the back of my head. It feels like I’m caught inside an ice cube tray.

  “We use more of our groceries for injuries than eating,” I try to joke. Oscar tries to laugh, but it only comes out as a puff of air.

  “You said Amy mentioned Rick Tatum?” he asks.

  “She said she sent him after you.”

  “Damn it,” he says. “I thought she might have been the one.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah,” he groans. “But I never thought she’d go so far. Amy was always telling me things that Sophia was saying and doing, while we were apart. I thought Amy just had my back. But then, a couple weeks ago, Amy came onto me while we were all hanging out together at the bar. A huge group of all our friends were there, and Amy caught me by the bathrooms. She told me Sophia was cheating on me and tried to kiss me, but I just figured she was wasted. I was so mad about what she was telling me about Soph, I just ignored what she did.”

  I take a deep breath. He sounds heartbroken, as if, maybe, he really had loved Sophia, and it was only the lies Amy told him that had gotten in the way. Maybe every problem they ever had was all because of Amy. My mind jumps from one thought to another to another. What if it’s true? What if he realizes he’s stuck with me, but really wants her after all?

  “But if she was the one that sent Tatum, than she’d know he’s dead.”

  “I would think so too,” Oscar says, and I shiver.

  “Then she’s a psychopath.”

  “Something’s definitely wrong with her.”

  Headlights shine in through the front windows.

  “Land couldn’t have gotten her into town that quick,” Oscar says, rising off the
couch. He shields his eyes from the oncoming glare. “Who is that?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE CAR SPINS INTO THE OPEN spot on the opposite side of Oscar’s truck. Oscar walks to the front windows and peering out, he says, “What is she doing here?”

  Sophia skitters up to the front door.

  “Hi,” she says through the screen. Her voice is high-pitched and funny, like she’s trying to be cordial while being chased with a chainsaw. Her eyes dart around the room. “I don’t see Landon’s car. Are he and Amy here?”

  “They left,” Oscar says. “What are you doing here?”

  Sophia suddenly grabs the handle of the door and rushes in. “We don’t have time, Oscar,” she begins at a rapid-fire pace. “I’ve been calling—there’s something wrong. Amy’s flipped out. She sent a guy after you.”

  “I know,” Oscar says. “We just found that out.”

  “You did? Somebody came after you?”

  “Not up here,” Oscar says carefully. “Probably couldn’t find me.”

  “Thank God,” Sophia says. “Where’s Amy now? I’ve got a few things to say to her.”

  “Landon took her to the bus stop in town. She tried to hurt Hale.”

  “Are you kidding? What did she do?” Sophia turns to look at me, seeing me on the couch for the first time. I lower the bag of peas and Sophia gasps. “She doesn’t need to be on a bus. She needs to be in a psych ward.”

  I see the concern shoot across Oscar’s face and disappear. We can’t call the cops. If Amy tells them about Rick Tatum, then the police might eventually be able to trace it back to our fathers being at the bar where Tatum died. Oscar rubs his chin.

  “No, I think she’s just really mixed up right now,” he says, but it doesn’t even sound like he believes it. “She got thrown out of here, and Landon’s furious with her. A ride home on the bus might be what she needs.”

  “You think she needs time to clear her head?” Sophia squeaks. She narrows her eyes on Oscar. “She beat up your girlfriend and sent a guy after you. Why are you defending her?”

  “I’m not,” he says. “I just think she’s being overly protective of you, and she took it too far. I didn’t want to involve the cops since she’s your friend.”

  Sophia’s tongue rolls in her cheek. She gives Oscar a hard glare, like his face is a puzzle that she’s putting together. “You did her, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Oscar’s eyes bulge. “What are you talking about?”

  “She said you almost did it.” Sophia says. “She said that you came onto her, and she held back because of me. I didn’t believe her. I thought she was really going crazy, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry,” Oscar says. He glances in my direction with a tiny shake of his head. That’s how I know he’s lying. “I’m so sorry it had to come out like this.”

  Then he turns his head to me, confirming the lie with a wink that Sophia doesn’t see. Her arms drop at her sides.

  “Are you kidding me?” she says. “You wanted to cheat on me with Amy? With my best friend?”

  “She didn’t tell you the whole truth,” Oscar says. “It wasn’t me coming on to her. Amy has been hitting on me since we met. You’ve seen it yourself, Soph. You’ve made jokes about it before.

  “Amy kept showing up at my house all the time, and you know how she kept calling my phone when we finally got to go out on a date alone. But last week, she showed up at my house and told me that you were cheating on me. Things hadn’t been going right with us. You know that. I figured, for once, Amy was telling the truth. It made sense at the time. I made the mistake of believing her, and I cheated on you. I think we both got screwed, and I’m really sorry.”

  Sophia stands there blankly, trying to process what Oscar is telling her.

  “I hate you,” she says, then she turns to me. “You should get away from him. Do you hear this? He’s a liar and a cheat. He’ll do the same to you.”

  “No, he won’t,” I say, dropping the bag of peas on the couch. “I’ve got too much on him.”

  “Then you deserve whatever you get,” Sophia says. “Have a happy fucking life, Oscar.”

  And she storms out the door, runs to her car, and guns it down the drive into the night.

  #

  “Paid for Crazy Cakes to get on the bus, so she’ll be back in the vicinity of home in a couple hours,” Landon says when he returns. He’s throwing his stuff into his bag as he talks. “As for me, I think I’m just going to head back tonight, if you don’t mind. The birthday weekend is kind of a bust.”

  “Stick around,” Oscar says. “It’s not your birthday yet. We can still have a good time.”

  “Nah, I think I’ve had all I can take. I’m going to head home.”

  “A few minutes earlier and you could’ve carpooled with Sophia,” Oscar says.

  “What? She was up here again?”

  “Yeah. To warn us about Amy. I don’t know why she didn’t just call you.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Landon groans. “She didn’t call me, because Amy said she was acting nutty and screaming about you. I didn’t want to hear it, so I blocked her calls.”

  “What a mess,” Oscar says.

  “Yeah buddy.” Landon says. He hauls the strap of his bag onto his shoulder. “Well, okay, I’m out. You two have a good rest of the weekend, alright?”

  Once he’s gone, Oscar locks the doors and insists I lie on the couch with the peas on my eye. He carefully checks the back of my head, before I do. It’s sore from the hair pulling, but he reports there aren’t any bumps or cuts. I lay back, and he lifts my shirt up, just over my stomach, pressing along my side gingerly with his fingertips, and asking if anything hurts. It’s a little sore, but nothing bad.

  “I still can’t believe she did that,” he says. “I would’ve liked to do the same to her.”

  “But you didn’t,” I say.

  “I don’t hit girls,” he says. “I do throw them in the lake, though.”

  I close my eyes a moment, and Oscar says, “Lift your head. You can rest it in my lap.”

  I do as he says, with a pillow between my head and his legs. I stare up at him.

  “What are you going to do, if the whole story about cheating with Amy gets back to Landon?” I ask. Oscar’s eyes travel thoughtfully across the room.

  “I hate lying to him, but I guess I’ll have to deny it, and rely on Amy’s boatload of crazy for credibility,” Oscar says. “But I’m hoping it doesn’t come up.”

  “Me too,” I agree quietly.

  “Something else on your mind?” he asks.

  “I was wondering,” I begin, and bite my lip. He puts a hand on my knee, his head tipped down and his eyes searching for mine, like an incredibly handsome, but inquisitive, puppy. He waits for my answer. “Did you say all of that to Sophia because you wanted to be sure she wouldn’t come back, or because you meant it?”

  “Both,” he says. “You’re still wondering if I’m in love with Sophia?”

  I drop my eyes away from his. “Yes.”

  “I told you before that she’s not even on my radar anymore. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Yes it has. Amy drove wedges between you. It sounds like she told a lot of lies on both sides to tear you two apart. You obviously loved Sophia once. Maybe, if there hadn’t been any interference, you still would.”

  “I never loved Sophia,” he says. “I liked her. That’s why I dated her. But I never fell in love with Sophia. I’m sure things would’ve turned out different if Amy had never been involved, but would it have worked out with Sophia and me? I don’t know and I don’t care. I found the person I want to be with. I’m not questioning that.”

  “But you have to marry me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “You said you did.”

  “I said I’m loyal, and that I would do anything to help my father.”

  “Including marrying me,” I say, sitting up beside him.

 
“Hale,” Oscar says. His gaze filters out everything else in the room. “I want this.”

  His eyes are warm and reassuring. I want to believe every word. I touch the ring band on my finger, and he notices. He puts his hand on mine.

  “I want you so much,” he says. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone else. Not even close. You have this way, Hale, I don’t know how to describe it, but you have this way about you that I can’t resist. When we’re apart, it’s like I find these little holes in myself. Holes I can’t fill up on my own. Things are missing and the longer I’m away from you, the more clear and deep those holes become. But then you walk into the room, and everything comes back together for me again. All my emptiness is filled in. I can’t resist you, Hale, because I need you so much. Without you, I’m not even me.”

  I climb into his lap, taking his face between my hands, and guiding his mouth to my kiss. This time, it is my tongue that searches for his, and my hands that find the edge of his shirt, peeling it up, over his head. A deep moan grows from inside his throat. I slide a knee on either side of his thighs and deepen our kiss, pressing to him, until the sound of his pleasure vibrates against my lips.

  Oscar reciprocates. He wraps his arms around me, sliding his hands up my back, and grips my shoulders, pulling me down against him. My knees spread even wider and I feel his desire growing stronger as our kiss intensifies. He exhales, hot and fast, across my cheek as he arches to press himself more tightly to me. I pull back and he stops.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asks.

  “No,” I say. “I just...” How do I say I panicked, feeling him between my legs? It’s stupid. It’s not like we’re even naked. He’s only half naked, and I’m not at all naked, but I’m still panicking, feeling the fact that he wants to do it. He catches my lip between his teeth.

  “No,” he pleads in a whisper. “Don’t ask me to stop this time, Hale. Please don’t.”

  I don’t want him to stop, but I’m afraid to go any further. I know how sex works, I’ve read books that explained it, but now that I’m sitting in his lap, there are too many variables. The worst being, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. We aren’t married. I’m not on The Pill or anything. He told me he wants me to be good in bed, and I don’t have a clue how to do that. I’m afraid he’s going to be completely turned off by my total ignorance, when we actually do it.