Knee Deep

by Jolene Perry

  I run my good hand through my dresser drawers, throwing everything onto my bed in frustration. Now I’m on the floor, and searching the depths of my closet. I jerk out an old white, long sleeved tee.

  It’s like I’m suddenly in someone else’s life, in desperate need of distraction. I slide on my shirt, making sure the sleeves are long enough for my lanky arms. When I check the mirror my eyes are only slightly red. I suck in a deep breath. Okay. I can do this.

  I hoist my bag carefully onto my shoulders. My wrist isn’t broken because I can move my hand, but he held on a lot tighter than I thought he did when it happened. I’m not sure where we stand right now. We didn’t talk or text after he left last night.

  When I open my front door Shawn’s standing there, quiet, with his hands in his pockets. Waiting. I suck in a breath. My heart is fluttering and my mind is uncertain.

  His eyes are soft, sad, and sorry. And I’m more shocked than mad, really. Maybe everything yesterday caught us both by surprise. Seeing his apologetic face begins to melt my leftover frustration and fear.

  The silence between us feels like an apology—he’s not even trying to defend himself.

  “Hey.” I test the waters first.

  “I’m so sorry.” His eyes catch mine. His breathing sounds off as he stares at the ground.

  I reach out to him. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” And I’m not sure if I mean it or not, but I really want Shawn and I to be back to normal.

  His hand touches my wrist and I wince, both in fear of his reaction and because it’s still that sensitive. Maybe I should have gone for the hoodie so I could have used more ice today.

  His brows come together. His fingers hold mine gently as he turns my hand palm up and tugs at my sleeve. My heart hits hard, what will he think?

  The bruise is a sharp contrast against the white of my shirt and pale skin.

  His hand covers his mouth as he lets go of my fingers. “Oh, God.” He leans over, resting his hands on his knees, and part of me thinks he might pass out or throw up. Just when I start to move toward him, he stands up straight. “Ronnie.” His fingertips slide along my cheek, through my hair. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe…”

  He wipes a tear from my cheek before I realize I’m crying. I don’t know who hugs who first, but I’m wrapped up in his arms in a way that makes me want to stay wrapped up in his arms forever. My chin rests on his shoulder and his rests on mine as we just hold each other. I close my eyes and squeeze tighter. This is the closeness we sort of lost with the beginning of the school year. The kind of closeness that makes me feel like I’m melting into him, into his warmth, and the way I know he loves me.

  “I’m so sorry. My dad’s been extra crazy with work, and I’ve been stressed and worried…” His hands run through my hair over and over.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m fine.”

  My body relaxes deeply against him, and I start to see how tense we’ve been since school started. Now that the tension is gone, I know that anything would be worth having Shawn back this way. The way Shawn and I are supposed to be.

  ~ 7 ~

  Mindy and I sit in the dark blue theater seats in the middle of the auditorium. From here we have a view of the stage, but are still just on the edge of the dim light. I’m not generally needed for much, but I continue to come and watch. It’s part of my “thing” for the year, so it seems like I should be here.

  It’s been days since Shawn and I argued, but my wrist is still mottled in black and blue, and the stiffness is still making everyday stuff like carrying my backpack a pain in the butt.

  “Aren’t you hot?” She grabs at my long-sleeves.

  “Nope.” I fold my arms, keeping my wrist protected. I know she won’t understand. I don’t understand. I only know how rough his life must be for something so drastic to happen between us.

  “Okay.” She reaches into her pack and pulls out our notebook. She should not be bringing that to school.

  “So, you and Paul.” I lean in. “It’s still pretty awesome, huh?”

  “It’s still awesome.” She grins. “How are you and Shawn?”

  “So, so good.” Ever since our argument he’s met me in the mornings, and changed his work schedule. He’s been at my house every evening, even though I know my dad makes him nervous. Things have been pretty perfect, and that’s what I need to focus on.

  “He’s sometimes moody, that’s all.” She slouches lower in her seat, resting her head against the back.

  I shrug. “I guess.” I don’t want to think of Shawn as moody—even though I already call him moody. He’s so easy and fun when he wants to be. I guess I now wish he could find a way to keep that part of him around all the time.

  “Anything to add?” she asks.

  To add to our list of firsts? Those words prick at me, at my heart, my conscience. It takes everything I have to not react. I should tell her. Right now. I should tell her about Shawn and I and our argument. I could write something that would make me feel better. I could say—was physically hurt by a boy for the first and last time. Ever. Instead I shake my head. Easier. Better.

  “Well, crap, me either. We’re gonna have to do something craa-zee.” She laughs.

  Luke jogs up. “What are we discussing way up here?” He puts his knees on a chair in front of us and leans over the back. A Phineas and Ferb t-shirt today. Only Luke.

  “Girl stuff. Things Ronnie and I must be alone for.” Mindy relaxes her head onto my shoulder.

  “Ronnie.” Luke’s shoulders relax and he tilts his head to the side. “It’s short for Veronica, right? I can’t believe I’ve known you for this long and never thought about it.”

  Oh no. I freeze, stop breathing, and don’t answer.

  Mindy laughs.

  “Don’t,” I warn, as I turn and point my finger at her chest.

  “Oh come on, it’s just Luke.” She pushes my finger away with a smile.

  Luke rests his chin on his hands, looking like the goofy guy he can be. “Please?” He bats his long lashes at us and I know she’ll cave. I’m caving right now.

  Mindy and I exchange glances. She won’t say if I don’t want her to, but I’m not going to stop her, not with Luke leaning over the chair at us like this—knowing he’ll eventually get his way.

  “You’re shameless,” I say.

  He smiles wide and leans toward Mindy, chin resting on his hands in rapt attention.

  “So there’s a whole little story, are you ready for it?” Her head turns from me to Luke.

  I let out a dramatic sigh and slump in my seat, but it doesn’t matter. Not with Luke. I’m sort of amazed he hasn’t put it together himself.

  “Ready.” He makes another show of wiggling his body back and forth—settling in to listen.

  “Her dad named her brother Ben, after him. So her mom named her—”

  “Rhonda.” Luke grins.

  “Yep, Rhonda, after her.” Mindy sits up tall as if saying this silly little story makes her important.

  “Which is why Ronnie is the only name on everything, including my driver’s license. Everything but my birth certificate,” I say. And actually, it’s not much of a story. Just a silly family thing.

  “I see.” He nods. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Whatever, Luke.” I roll my eyes.

  “No Liesl today.” Blackman’s voice booms. “We’ll need Ronnie to step in.”

  “Oh.” I lose the air from my lungs. This is the first time Liesl has missed, which amazes me. I’m still not sure how she juggles all that she does.

  “Well,” Mindy says. “Guess I get to watch instead of hanging with you.”

  “I’m sorry.” I stand, chest tightening and palms already damp from nerves. Why did I think this would be a good idea, again? On stage? Me? Speaking Shakespearean in front of this wide ocean of blue seats?

  Luke wags his brows. “Kiss ya later.” He spins and jogs to the stage.

  “I swear, he’s such a flirt.” I shake my
head.

  “Well.” Her eyes widen. “Enjoy being that close to him.”

  Luke? Whatever. Why would I care about Luke when I have Shawn? And close to Luke? Not a good idea; not with Shawn’s reaction the other day. Fortunately, this is different. This is theater. I’m okay. This is okay. And again, I’m probably just trying to convince myself.

  “I heard he and Aubrey slept together last weekend,” she whispers.

  “Really?” My brows go up and a ping hits my chest. They’ve only gone out a few times. I figured Luke would say something if he was seeing somebody. “Well, that’s Luke for ya.” I smirk, and follow him to the stage.

  As soon as we start, I realize I know the lines. I even know where I’m supposed to stand. It takes me a second to find my spot because I’ve never done it before, but I know it well enough to give it a good attempt.

  And then we get to the party scene.

  My heart stops.

  Kiss ya later.

  Right.

  I start to shake my hands to relieve tension, but my wrist is too sore. Okay. It’s okay. I can do this. No big deal, right? Its just Luke. Silly, goofy, friend Luke.

  But my heart’s pounding as the sound professionals mess with the music and the extras in the scene all try to find their spots. And me. I’m standing on the X that I know I’m supposed to be on for the first time Juliet sees Romeo, and I’m staring at Luke. He’s laughing with his group, and there’s this lump in my throat that’s getting bigger and bigger as the moment with us together creeps closer and closer.

  My heart pounds even harder when his eyes catch mine across the crowd of people pretending to party onstage. But it’s okay. Because right now I’m Juliet and he’s Romeo, and he’s supposed to be looking at me like this. Like he wants to kiss me. Isn’t that the point? But still I can’t breathe and barely manage to move forward. And then my heart starts pounding for real—guess it was just fluttering before.

  I think about the kiss he gave Liesl—so soft, so careful—his fingertips just touching her soft chin. Is that what he’ll do? What it’ll be like? Am I looking forward to this? To kissing him? Or am I that far into the role? I’m not sure. How do I tell? Do I need to know? We’re standing close now; so close I can feel his warmth. I have no idea what my next line is.

  “I think that’s good for today,” Mr. Blackman calls. “No point in finishing this scene without the real Juliet.”

  My body jerks at the sound of Blackman’s voice, but I’m sort of locked into Luke/Romeo’s eyes with no excuse to not look away. Mindy’s here. Watching. I force my eyes away to stare at the floor, but now my head’s almost touching Luke’s chest because he hasn’t moved either. What’s going on with me? It’s just a stupid play, and just Luke.

  I look up just in time to see Mindy blow me a kiss as Paul and his broad shoulders lead her out of the theater. Now I’ll be walking home. Alone. With Luke. Hoping to let the tension go, I take a few more deep breaths. Will it always be like this when I’m onstage with him? Will it just take a moment to shake off Juliet when we finish each day? This is just what acting is. It has to be.

  I step away before turning back to him.

  “Ready?” he asks, offering the normal, relaxed, Luke smile.

  I guess it was all me. All in my head. That’s good. Perfect, actually. But why do I feel like part of me was just let down by the casual way he’s looking me?

  ***

  “I heard a rumor you slept with Aubrey.” I hold my smile in. That should sidetrack my brain from the thoughts of our lips together. Although I might not want to talk about Luke and girls either.

  “Where did you hear that?” His eyes are wide.

  I shrug.

  He shakes his head. “Yeah.”

  “Didn’t you and Cris just break up?” I ask. Luke and I are walking toward Shawn’s backyard hoping he’s home from work with the pizza he promised.

  “Nah.” He shakes his head. “That was like, three weeks ago.”

  “Right.” I smirk. “And within three weeks you had Aubrey in your bed.”

  His eyes widen again and he shakes his head. “It was totally her idea and totally unexpected.”

  I so don’t believe him. “I totally don’t believe you.”

  “No!” He holds his hands up laughing. “I swear!”

  “How…” How long have I been with Shawn and still can’t imagine it?

  “I don’t know if I should tell you.” Now he’s trying to sound all snotty or something, teasing as always.

  “Really?” I cross my arms, and stare at the printed hem of my dress as we walk.

  “You won’t believe me.” His voice is serious again, only not serious because there seems to be some teasing tone in almost everything he says.

  “Try me,” I say.

  He lets out this long breath that says he really, really isn’t happy about talking to me, but again, teasing is all over his face. “I mean, we’ve gone out a few times. So last weekend we went to dinner and then she wanted to go to a movie, so we did that too. And then she asked me if we could hang out at my house cause my mom was out of town with my aunt.” He unlatches the gate into Shawn’s backyard so I can walk through.

  “Are you seriously going to tell me that she seduced you?” I walk backward a few steps to see him better. And why does saying one stupid word—seduced—make me blush?

  “I totally am.” He’s smiling and there’s enough disbelief on his face for me to believe him. “We ended up in my room and she even had condoms in her purse.”

  “You, Luke, are such a whore!” I laugh and flop back onto a lounge chair, which loosens some of the weirdness that’s built up while he talked about Aubrey.

  “Whatever.”

  There’s a long pause. I slide down low, closing my eyes.

  “It kinda freaked me out, you know? I’d only ever been with Cris.” His voice sounds so small.

  What ? He’s being serious. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m serious.” His eyes are wide.

  It’s so odd. “You just had that whole ‘Luke the wild guy’ thing, and went through kind of a—”

  “Crazy time, or whatever after my dad. I know.” He shrugs. “But that involved more drugs than girls.”

  “Oh.” This is the part of Luke I don’t know well.

  “Aren’t you hot?” He grabs the bottom of my long-sleeve t-shirt.

  “Nope,” I lie as I jerk my hand back. My bruise isn’t gone yet, and I don’t need any questions.

  “Whatever.”

  It’s just a stupid shirt, why would he care? But I open my mouth and know I could say something. Of everyone I know, he’s the one who’s most likely to understand. The words start to come, but I can’t. Can’t do it.

  “Why does Shawn always have to be running late?” He checks his watch.

  I shrug. But Shawn is always running late. My mind starts working on that, it’s always been a part of Shawn, but he’s so meticulous about other things that it’s kind of odd that punctuality isn’t one of them.

  “Doesn’t it make you crazy?”

  “I’m used to it.” I cross my legs, pulling up my dress to cool myself off.

  “And you’re not hot?” He gives me this ‘lips-pressed together’ look of disbelief.

  I close my eyes to try and relax under the heat of the sun.

  He lies back on his lounge chair. The breeze ruffles the pool. “So, I think Aubrey and I might go out again.”

  “You should see how far you could get if you just took her to Taco Bell,” I tease. Anything to keep the topic off me.

  “Very funny.” He shakes his head.

  “Don’t you want more than that?” I ask. Luke is so nice, yet it’s like the nice girls are sort of afraid of him.

  “Actually, yeah. I do.” He sits up, leans forward, and looks at me. “Don’t you?” The tease is absent from his voice.

  “Don’t I what?” But my heart’s pounding, and I think he might know something, or guesses s
omething about Shawn and I, and how moody he can be. But Shawn wouldn’t have told him about the other night, grabbing my wrist, would he?

  “Don’t you want something more?” Luke’s voice is quiet and hits my core in a way that vibrates my soul.

  There should be some sort of smart thing I could say back to him, but I have no idea what it would be. Our eyes meet again and my breath catches.

  “Your eyes are amazing,” he says. “The brown is so deep.” His face is unreadable, but his gaze sends a clear message.

  I like looking at you.

  It’s so simple. So Luke.

  There’s electricity between us that totally shouldn’t be here. Maybe I wasn’t imagining how he looked at me on stage. Maybe it was more than Shakespeare’s heart on the page. I slump and let the tension go, closing my eyes to his. Not me. Not with Luke.

  “Well don’t you two look cozy!” Shawn’s voice booms across the yard.

  “’Bout time you showed up, asshole.” Luke jumps off his chair without a glance back at me.

  He’s either saving my butt, or that moment was imagined. Either way it’s going to take my heart a moment to slow down.

  We spend the night listening to music in the backyard. We eat pizza. We laugh. We complain about our homework, and we’re all back to normal. Shawn smiles and touches me like everything’s still perfect. So I guess it must be.

  ~ 8 ~

  Dad and I sit in front of the TV for dinner, watching some special on China. With each word the narrator says and each horrific picture that appears, my problems are starting to feel small, that’s for sure.

  My phone beeps.

  SHAWN: WON’T MAKE IT TNGHT

  EVRYTHNG OK? I’m bummed, we were going to study together, which generally means we were going to make out by the pool for a while.

  SHAWN: FINE. JUST GOT BUSY AT WORK. DAD NEEDS STUFF DONE BFR WE GO HOME.

  MISS U. HOPE ALL OK.

  His dad needs stuff done? The sinking feeling in my gut makes my hope that Shawn’s dad exercises a little more self-control at work than he seems to at home, disappears. I wish I knew how to help.