by Morrison, KT
She looked at him and her eyes were wet. She said, “I lost it. I lost my toe ring ...” her voice was high and tense. She loved her toe ring.
“Where is it?” he said, meanwhile in his head he knew where it was. Kicked off her foot while she swam with Colt to the boathouse. Her gold toe ring was sitting at the bottom of Wolf Lake somewhere between here and the island.
He stood up, face bewildered.
She got up, too, said, “Where did it go?”
Mikey slowed his strumming. Riley said, “What’s wrong?”
Taylor, on the verge of tears, said, “I lost my toe ring ...”
Riley said, “Aww, we’ll find it.”
“How? I probably lost it in the water,” she said and looked up at the sky like she was ten-years-old again and was going to cry.
Now his heart did go out to her.
It wasn’t her and Colt, you asshole. There’s something in it that makes you want to believe it is. It’s your dick. You like the idea ...
“No, I don’t,” he said aloud. Nobody heard him.
Was it selfish? She lost her toe ring and all he could think was how that meant she was in the boathouse giving Colt a hand job.
He said, “We’ll find it, Taylor. We’ll find it in the morning ...”
She cried, “No, we won’t. It came off in the water. I just know it ...”
She looked so sad he took her in his arms again and she slumped against him. He squeezed her.
Mikey strummed the opening chords of ‘Shake It Off.’
40
They sat close together with their bodies touching, her cuddled in her own towel, him with his towel around her. Mikey played the Taylor Swift sing-along Roxie loved even though it was an unfamiliar acoustic version. Harrison got closer to Taylor’s ear and whispered, “I’ll get you a new one.”
She nodded and leaned against him harder. She was shivering.
“You still cold?”
She nodded.
Figures moved into the warm light, standing amongst them. Colt had joined them with a beer in his hand, also wearing a flannel shirt now, too. Rick-Joe was with him and they came and stood behind Brady. For a few minutes they listened to Mikey play and obviously didn’t like his song selections, rolling their eyes at each other.
Colt swigged his beer and looked around, eyeing the people who were sitting around the fire. He shuffled counterclockwise and stopped when he came near Taylor and him. Harrison peeped around her shoulder to see what got his attention. Taylor was sad and sullen, her eyes watery, and her beautiful hair hung lank and damp down the sides of her face. Her teeth were chattering.
Colt moved around Brady to stand next to Harrison. He said to Taylor, “Are you okay?”
She looked up at him with her lips parted. “Yeah,” she said.
“You sure?
She said, “I lost my favorite toe ring.”
Colt gave a little laugh, like he thought it was something more serious. He said, “Maybe we can find it.”
“It’s dark,” she said.
“Yeah, when it’s light I bet you I can find it.” He watched over the fire again and took another sip of beer.
Harrison looked up at him. His head was level with the guy’s waist, and he craned his neck to look up. The baseball hat was on forward now. His long, blonde hair curled around his ears and neck. His hand was stuck in his pocket, but Harrison could see in the gap of the unbuttoned sleeve cuff the leather bracelets around his wrist. Why could he find Taylor’s toe ring?
Because he knew where it was.
Harrison said, “You know where it is?”
Colt looked down and shot him a look of disdain. He said, “I bet I can find it.”
Harrison said, “I bet you know where it is.”
Colt frowned for a moment, watching him, then said, “What, like you think I fucking stole it or something?”
Harrison responded with equal venom. “No, I think you know where it is. You think it’s in the boathouse.”
“Why the fuck would I think that?”
“Because you took her there.”
“Took her to the boathouse?” He tipped his chin down toward the beach, frowning at him with an angry brow.
“Yeah, you two fucking snuck off together.”
The guitar jangled off key and stopped. People were watching. Colt grinned with humor. He showed his hands, an okay sign circled around the neck of his beer bottle, said “Oh, all right, whatever, dude. We snuck off, and I swiped your girlfriend’s toe ring, you fucking nerd.” There were uncomfortable sounds from around the fire. Harrison shook his head. He should’ve let it go.
He looked at Taylor and she stared at him wide-eyed. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. When their eyes met, she looked away and stared at the fire, eyes still wide in shock.
Why the fuck did he even say that? Why would he say it, and why would he say it in front of everyone?
Colt snapped his fingers and looked up, instantly recalling something and smiling. He pointed at Taylor and said, “The foot job.”
Taylor frowned and darted her head back. “What?”
“When you gave me the foot job. It’s probably in my underwear.” With the punch-line, he grinned wide then swigged his beer.
Rick-Joe leaned forward so he could see Harrison’s face around Colt and asked him earnestly, “Did you want to take a look in there?”
They were being assholes, and he’d walked right into it. He should have kept his mouth shut. He knew better. There was chuckling around the fire, and he wished he could laugh it off with everyone but his heart was way too heavy so instead he just scowled.
Across the fire, standing with a beer in his hand, KC also scowled, watching Colt. That made him feel better. Sure, Harrison was the one who got bullied, that’s the way he was used to—but he was right. And Colt shouldn’t say things like that about Taylor.
Taylor stared vacantly into the fire. Her cheeks were blazing red right now and her eyes had gone wet, twinkling with the threat of tears in the light of the fire. She sensed him looking at her and she pursed her lips then bit down on them.
The drink she held was set on the ground in front of her between her feet and she stood, gathered her towel around herself and left the light of the fire.
He wanted to follow after her, wanted to comfort her after he’d embarrassed her but everyone was watching and he didn’t want them to see him grovel. He looked back to the fire and waited for everyone’s attention to turn to something else before he followed.
It was Colt who pursued her.
Turning suddenly and saying, “Hey, wait up,” Colt disappeared behind Harrison, following Taylor. When he was out of the light of the fire, Harrison heard Colt telling her, “I was just fucking around, sorry, you know ... That was rude, I’m sorry ...”
Now he’d really fucked up. Face turned to the fire, staring at the dancing flames he could see all the faces still turned to him in his unfocused periphery, watching him make yet another stupid mistake. They could all see she was going to dump him. They could all see she was going to fuck Colt, or already had. They all looked at the chump sitting on the rock realizing he was way out of his league with Taylor and didn’t deserve her in the first place. He sighed, darted a glance up to the stars in the sky, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Taylor and Colt were gone, leaving the warm circle of family and friends and going off together into the dark nighttime blue. He could hear the sound of their feet on the grass and dirt getting distant, Colt’s voice low and soothing.
Mikey took up where he left off, strumming again, starting all over from the beginning in G, the opening of ‘Shake It Off.’
41
Once the music had resumed, and the faces turned away to watch Mikey play, he stayed a while longer. Inside he was buzzing with electricity but his body was enervated somehow, leaden. He made it through one full song then stood. No one looked, but he knew they saw. He gathered Roxie’s towel around himself and left them.
It was cold beyond the fire. He headed to the house, the same direction that Taylor and Colt had gone.
Into the basement through the French doors, he wound his way up to the main floor and found the kitchen empty. He looked out the lakeside window and saw everyone gathered around the fire. There were three figures down by the lake—he could see their black shapes against the pale of the sand. All guys, no slim Taylor.
The moon was out now and it flickered on the surface of Wolf Lake. He stood with his hands curled over the edge of the sink watching everyone down there having a nice time. He ruined it. Acted like a total kid. The total opposite of a cool cucumber, he was a hot and sour fucking pickle. Way to go. You had one simple thing to do: just be cool. You can’t even do it for one full evening? He’d made a fool of himself and he’d embarrassed his girlfriend. And she wasn’t with Colt. He already knew that. Why did these thoughts torture him like this?
“Fuck,” he softly said, and made a fist, tapped it on the curved neck of the faucet.
Then the thoughts came back.
They probably went upstairs.
Would they use Colt’s room or her own room? Would she have the audacity to fuck Colt on the same bed where she’d let her boyfriend have her real virginity this morning?
With grim resolve, he headed up the stairs, watching the hallway at the top as he went, looking for signs of them up here.
For the second time tonight, he softly rapped on each of the doors and opened them to peek inside. They weren’t up here at all. Didn’t mean they weren’t fucking though now, did it, Harrison? Probably had her in the back seat of his pickup truck. That thought made him groan, and he grimaced and hunched over.
In Taylor’s room, he opened his knapsack and pulled out another set of dry clothes, glad that he’d over-packed. A new T-shirt, a light sweatshirt, and dry shorts, were slipped on.
He went down the hall to the room where KC and Colt and the other guys stayed. It was the bigger room over the garage and looked out on the driveway. In the spot where he’d caught Taylor and KC talking about Riley’s alcohol problem this morning, he pushed back the curtain with his hand.
The lights were on so he mostly saw the reflection of his own face, but he closed the curtain around the back of his head and looked down to the driveway. The front lights of the house were on and he could see the cars parked out there; could see his Soob, Shelby’s Mustang with the top still down, could see the two big pickup trucks, Riley’s Santa Fe, and Jamie’s Charger.
Two people sat in the bed of the jacked up pickup parked behind the Soob. The tailgate had been flipped down, and they sat with their knees bent and their feet hanging off. It was Taylor and Colt. He had to touch his hips as a jealous hurt whipped through him. She wore Colt’s flannel shirt. He was shirtless. They sat close together, their thighs practically touching, faces turned toward each other while they talked. What would she have to talk about with that guy?
He stayed still and continued to spy on her. His erection grew harder, and he gripped it over top of his pants.
Taylor still looked sad. Her body posture was heavy and slumped forward. She was so small and thin and she was drowning in Colt’s big plaid shirt. She’d rolled the sleeves up to just above her wrists. She was wiping at her face while she talked. Was she crying? Probably telling this guy about how she had to get rid of her high school boyfriend this weekend. Probably telling him how she had to go to Santa Cruz to get away from him because she couldn’t stand to be at Michigan State if he was there, too. Breathing down her neck. Total hot sour fucking pickle this guy.
And Colt was supportive, nodding—he couldn’t really see his face but could understand from the guy’s profile that he was giving her that serious look. That I’m listening look.
He watched a little while longer as the two of them talked, he watched until the mood between them lifted. Colt got her laughing even. Her shoulders shook and light glinted off her teeth as she laughed. She wiped at her face. Handsome Colt chasing her tears away.
Colt put his hand up to her face, rubbed her cheek with a knuckle to dry away one she had missed. They held their gaze for too long a moment.
“No, no,” he sighed, squeezing his erection and pushing it upright. He pulled his shirt down so it wouldn’t show, let the curtain return to hang open and left the room. He trotted down the steps and into the front hall. Out the front door, he headed onto the porch and turned to the driveway.
There was a moment of hesitation. He winced in preparation. Would he find them kissing? It had looked like they were going to. When he stepped around the corner and onto the driveway would he see the two of them fully making out? ...
42
When he had the nerve, he turned, found them still talking; they weren’t kissing.
Cool cucumber. Cool cucumber. He put his hands in his pockets, refrained from whistling but brought out that whistling kind of attitude. Hey guys, sorry I messed up back there. It’s been a long day. Then the bad thoughts: It’s been a long day because I’ve been doing dishes, cleaning and cooking while you two were making eyes at each other and flirting, talking about his big dick and swimming out to the boathouse so you can touch it and jerk it, you fucking traitorous—nope ...
Strolling past the Subaru, he checked his reflection as it wavered in the long side panels of the cargo area. He came alongside the big jacked-up pickup truck. They heard him coming—he wasn’t out to startle anybody—and Taylor darted a look over Colt’s shoulder and saw him. She showed no expression before turning away again and hanging her head.
Now he came around the tailgate, and Colt watched him, too. He took a swig of his beer. Taylor had a bottle as well, but he saw it only briefly before she hid it behind her.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she said softly but wouldn’t look at him.
He said, “Sorry about back there.” Might as well get this over with. It was Colt he should probably apologize to as well, but he spoke only to Taylor.
Taylor nodded.
He said to her, “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Her eyes were puffy. She’d been crying.
“Yeah, seriously,” he said now, scratching the back of his neck, “I was out of line back there.”
“It’s okay,” she said.
Colt smiled, took another swig of his beer. When he set it down, he said, “We were going to take a swim out to the boathouse. You want to keep an eye on our stuff?”
Taylor shook her head and looked a little sick. Harrison frowned.
Down by the fire, Colt had acted like Harrison meant the Brooks’ boathouse when he made his accusation. Colt had pointed with his chin down toward the beach but his eyes had been on the green-painted Brooks’ boathouse. But he’d just said now: Take a swim. You would only swim to the abandoned boathouse. Was it a ruse earlier? Was it that initial reaction to throw Taylor’s crafty boyfriend off the scent?
I so don’t know what you’re talking about that I don’t even know what boathouse you mean, dude.
Colt really does know. Taylor swam out with him to the boathouse. He didn’t know how they got back as quick as him but it wasn’t impossible. Once he’d pinched her toe would she stay and make out? Wouldn’t Taylor have been so freaked, she wanted to get back home? First thing back, Colt ran up to his bedroom to change into dry clothes, and Taylor paddled around far from the boy she had been cheating with ...
His face went drawn and thin again. He said, “You did go out there. You two went out there.”
“Some apology,” Colt said.
Taylor looked away.
He was sure of it now. So sure of it. He said, “Yeah, I knew it. You two went out there and made out.”
“You and I made out?” Colt laughed and looked to Taylor. “Were we necking?” He nudged Taylor with an elbow and she actually smiled a little.
It made him livid. “I saw you two.”
Now she looked up at him and her mouth fell open. She said, “No
, you didn’t.”
“I did, too. I swam out right behind you. You think I’m stupid?”
“I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“You did. You know exactly what I’m talking about, Taylor.”
She looked to Colt who seemed to be enjoying this. Her lips trembled. Colt said now to Harrison: “You saw us kissing in the boathouse?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding once and holding Colt’s gaze.
“You sure?”
He said, “I saw it.”
“Are you really sure?” Colt asked.
He said, “Yeah,” firmly, feeling blood begin to pump through him.
“Really?” Colt said and raised his eyebrows. He set down his beer bottle on the left-hand side, turned his face to Taylor but said to Harrison, “Did it look like this?” Now he moved his mouth towards Taylor’s. She didn’t move away, her eyes lowered to watch his lips. Her eyes flitted, tugging to look at Harrison but then closing. She kissed him. She really kissed him. Colt and Taylor pressed their lips together and kissed dryly. It wasn’t intimate, it wasn’t loving. They were trying to make fun of him.
Colt laughed, and Taylor did, too, seeing that Colt was only joking. She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand.
“So?” Colt asked him. “You sure it was me? It looked like that?”
He just stared. Didn’t know what to say. He was so filled with rage, so filled with jealousy, but he felt like he could do nothing. Taylor just sat there, meekly smiling trying to make things better by being cute.
Colt said, “Dude, I didn’t go to the boathouse. Your fucking girlfriend didn’t either. Why don’t you leave her alone?”
“She’s my girlfriend, why don’t you stay out of it?”
“Because you’re being a dick to her. Leave her alone. Why don’t you give her, like an hour, and you go fucking cool off.”
“I don’t need to cool off. I need to talk to my girlfriend. Why don’t you fucking get out of here, asshole?” Soon as he said it the confrontational tone pinged in his head as going too far. He couldn’t back it up. There was nothing stopping Colt from jumping down off the tailgate, giving him a good one-two, and he would be lights out. He might never wake up, falling backwards and cracking the back of his head on the driveway. Oh, he might come-to for an hour or three in the hospital, enough to squeeze his mom’s hand, but then it would be Goodbye Harrison forever. He put up his hands before Colt did anything about it. He said, “She went to the boathouse, okay?”