For the Summer

by Shey Stahl

  “I can’t. I need to get back for Ivey,” I told you, watching the boys.

  You licked your bottom lip and finally turned toward your friends. “Go without me. I’ll catch up.”

  The boys started walking, and for some reason, I followed. I wanted to be where you were. Always. I really was pathetic.

  You were walking a few feet ahead of me, the boys laughing ahead of you, but you looked back and checked on me every few seconds, as you walked next to Grayden.

  When we arrived at the barn that was farther up the lake, the one I knew they held parties at, I heard laughter coming from inside. You stopped, waiting for me to reach you, not really looking at me. “Don’t say anything to anyone about this.”

  “I won’t,” I said, fidgeting with the cotton and frayed edges of my dress. I wondered briefly what or who was in that barn.

  Inside, laughter bubbled from a group of guys, a few I recognized from your baseball team. I was nervous to be around you and your friends without Ivey. Nervous as to what they would say to me, the little girl who followed you and your sister around.

  I watched you as we walked inside toward your friends. I could tell you were trying to walk straight, but you were smiling, too, as if you couldn’t help it. Your nervousness made me laugh.

  I sat in the corner on a hay bale by myself, just watching for about ten minutes. You were obnoxious, and I didn’t want to be there anymore.

  “I’m going back,” I said when you came closer to me, swaying.

  “No … stay.” Your voice was closer now, over my shoulder.

  “No. You’re high, and I want to go home.”

  “Come on, Sophie …” Your eyes were half opened, your words slurred so I could barely understand you. “Don’t be a little girl. Be with me.”

  You offered me your joint.

  “Have you ever smoked?”

  “No.” I’d heard of it, but never had I wanted to try it. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  You took me to the other side of the barn. Grayden and Austin followed up to the bed of Austin’s truck where we all sat. I had no idea what to do; I hadn’t even smoked a cigarette before so I watched Grayden, Austin, and then you as you passed the joint around.

  Your inhale was stupid sexy and alluring. Bringing it to your perfect lips, you pressed them together and breathed in. The tip glowed, and your chest rose, your lids fluttering closed and then opening again. Parting your lips, you took a breath in, holding it behind your smile and glossy eyes.

  You looked at me as you blew the breath out.

  And then it happened. My first joint.

  Slowly you handed it to me, bringing it so that your fingertips touched my lips. Never taking my eyes from yours, I pulled in the smoke. I could feel you watching me as my own lashes lowered, and then you whispered, “Breathe in.”

  Quietly passing the joint between us, I listened to your dopey jokes and the bass thumping behind us. When we finished, you scrubbed the roach over the bed of your truck before lying down to look up at the sky. Night had fallen, leaving the sky scratched with messy clouds and stars. Ivey had texted me and said her stomach was still hurting so she was going to bed; I stayed there with you, enjoying my first experience without my sisters or Ivey. It was just the boys and me.

  “It’s quiet out here,” Grayden said, chuckling.

  “If you keep talking … it’s not,” you pointed out, your voice muffled. “Shut the fuck up.”

  We all laughed, including Grayden, who pushed his cowboy hat over his face, his legs and arms crossed over one another.

  Lying back beside you on the other side of Grayden, I stretched my legs out, staring at the night surrounding us—a thick blanket of drowsiness.

  I wanted to say so much, but I was young, and being here with you guys, even with my moonlit brave conscience, it still wasn’t enough to ask anything. I felt ridiculous just being there with you. My age difference rushed to the surface, and I felt out of place and awkward. I wanted to rush out of there and never look back, but the way you watched me kept me there, waiting to see if you would come to my defense.

  Gary Allen floated around the night, filling the silence we needed. We were the poster children for high right then with silly smiles and half-hooded lids; the whites of our eyes were bloodshot.

  With Grayden half asleep and Austin lying on the hood, you turned to me, propping yourself up on your elbow.

  Then you kissed me again. With a slow ease from the weed, you hummed, an open mouth kiss pressed to my neck, loving my skin with teeth nipping, tongue moving, making the most desperate little sounds with each pass. Your kisses were soft, your touch a little harder with each moment. Dragging your parted lips down my neck, you moved the fabric of my shirt and worked your hands under my back, arching me toward you for better access.

  Pushing my hands from the mud-caked bed, I curled them in your hair, wrapping my legs around your hips. You groaned against my lips, rocking against my center. I felt you squeeze my upper thighs with your hands.

  I shivered, trying to hold you a little tighter, and you laughed, sounding as breathless as I felt.

  “How far are you gonna let me take this?” you groaned, again shifting closer, your hands working my dress a little higher. Your hand, the touch light but controlling moved higher and my heart took over, erratic and running wild. I wanted so much for your hand to dip inside my panties. I wanted your fingers to meet my skin, meet the junction between my legs and see that I wasn’t the little girl you thought I was anymore. I had grass on the field now. That was huge in my world.

  I was kind of freaking out because Grayden was right there. If he moved his hat, he’d see us.

  And then he did.

  I sighed when Grayden turned over and sat up, his phone buzzing. “Shit, my dad’s looking for me.”

  And that was the end of that.

  June 2005

  Ivey told me she and Austin got together last night, something you’d never approve of—she made me swear to never tell you.

  “Oh my God, Sophie.” She grinned, standing in barely controlled jumps. “You’re not gonna believe it!” Taking my hand, she dragged me up the white carpet stairs to her room of pink and black.

  I laughed, barely in the door before she was kicking off her shoes and Indian-style on the bed, waiting for her best friend. I couldn’t help but grin at her giddiness.

  “What happened?” I whispered in a squeal for her. She was so excited, giggling without sound that it made me excited, too.

  Grinning from ear to ear, she showed me her purple-pink mark and my eyes widened. “There’s more!” She showed me her stomach and thighs, all marked with pink kisses of lips and tongue. Her eyes lit up, crazy bright blue. Barely controlled, Ivey started to bounce, the bed shaking us. Her hands reached out to mine, clasping together in that best friend secret-sharing way.

  “Did you touch it?”

  “No. Well, not really.” She blushed, eyes shining still. “But I felt it though. He made me feel it through his jeans.” Ivey paused, her long lashes touching pink cheeks. “And I let him touch me.” Covering her face with both hands, the pink turned red. I’d never seen her like that, so … embarrassed. Her voice dropped, and she leaned in. “I had a fucking orgasm.”

  My comprehension and my imagination couldn’t follow, and my mouth dropped, unable to keep up with her detailed description of what she felt, her eyes so blue, so bright, just like her mood—almost blinding.

  “How do you know you had one?” I’d been curious before. Face it, the Cosmo covers got me every time, and I was curious as to what the draw was.

  “Oh, I am sure.” Ivey’s eyes widened. “Nothing comes close to that feeling. You’ll know!”

  My mind wandered to the night you kissed me in the back of Austin’s truck and the feeling I got when your lips touched mine. Was it like that? Because that was something I couldn’t forget, the feeling of being on fire in the most wonderful way—like I could know how an orgasm would feel.


  “Have you ever had one?” Ivey laughed, bubbling with delight.

  “No …” I smiled, watching her dance around. “I … well …”

  “I know you’re messing around with Bensen. It’s pretty obvious.” Ivey snorted and laughed harder. I did, too; I couldn’t help it. I wanted to tell her, confide in my best friend, but what I shared with you was complicated. In a way, though I hadn’t given it to you. I was saving myself for you.

  What we were wouldn’t make sense even if I tried to explain it.

  Ivey would have understood, and hearing her stories about Austin was exactly what I needed because I knew I wasn’t alone in this.

  July 2005

  Since Wyatt and I were friends, I gave him my number the last day of school, honestly thinking he would lose it and never call. Occasionally, this last year we had hung out, but when he called after the Fourth and asked to hang out, I was surprised.

  As it turned out, he was in Atlanta with his friends and on their way out to the lake for the night.

  This was when your mood changed, and I saw the first sign of jealousy I had ever seen in you … other than the time you told me to never get a boyfriend. But I wasn’t even sure that was out of jealousy.

  That lake seemed to be ours. And though it was never said, I never invited anyone, and Hadley hadn’t returned since that first summer.

  Until Wyatt showed up.

  He came early in the afternoon with plans to stay the night at my Aunt Megs’s house, sleeping in a tent by the lake. We were on the dock with Ivey and Wyatt’s friend and teammate, Lance.

  You were standing there against the rail on your parents’ deck, watching Wyatt with his arm around my shoulder, unsure of what you wanted. Wyatt was just being friendly, as he always was, when you nodded to your boys, and Grayden and Austin and headed over.

  Wyatt introduced himself and offered his hand to you. “I’m Wyatt Miller.”

  You were never going to shake his hand. That much was clear. You let out a snort, turning away. “Whatever kid.”

  Ivey pushed your shoulder. “Don’t be an asshole, Bensen.”

  Rolling your eyes, you looked back at him. “So you play ball?” you asked, your tone had an arrogance to it I didn’t understand, a disregarding manner Wyatt seemed to expect.

  “Yeah, I play shortstop for the Sharks. I hear you play for the Raiders, left field, right?”

  Your eyebrows rose, adjusting your hat. “In field, huh? Well … let’s see how ya do here with my boys.”

  Wyatt looked to me for an answer to your rudeness. I had nothing.

  Though I was familiar with jealousy through Sara’s boyfriends, she always seemed to attract those with the controlling, commitment issues, I had never experienced it first hand.

  Still dressed in my bikini, I walked over to your house when Wyatt left with Landon to go get their bats and head over to Watson Field.

  You were sitting on the deck in just your shorts, your bare feet resting against the rail, seemingly relaxed. Bright eyed and smoking a cigarette I was sure your dad wasn’t aware of, you smiled when you saw I hadn’t removed my bathing suit you liked so much.

  I leaned against the rail near your feet, our eyes met across the short distance. You smiled, so eager and pleasant it made my stomach twist. Your eyebrow lifted just a little, and you looked down. When you laughed, I realized I hadn’t changed out of my slippers.

  “Who’s that?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at Wyatt who was now talking to Ivey, and then back at me, wanting answers I didn’t want to give you.

  “That’s Wyatt. He’s my friend.” I gave you a funny look. “You met him just a minute ago, weirdo.”

  “I thought I was your friend.” Your eyes were on my bikini instantly, and I felt it everywhere.

  “You are.”

  “You fucking him?” You looked livid, and the fact that you even cared wasn’t lost on me.

  “Bensen …” I sighed, the word sounded so vulgar for an act that supposedly meant you loved someone. I learned quickly that wasn’t always the case, but at the time, I was stunned.

  “No, I’m not … fucking him. You’re so nasty sometimes.”

  You smiled, knowingly.

  “Are we doing this or what?” Grayden said, holding his bat bag over his shoulder. You gave him a nod, and he was gone, taking both the bags with him to your truck.

  When Grayden left, I looked back at you. Your hands were in the pockets of your cargo shorts, a smug smile plastered on your face. I knew exactly what was happening.

  We got to the field, and it was so freaking hot. Sun-baked orange clay kicked up with the gentle breeze. The idea of playing in this heat didn’t sound appealing to me. Ivey and I sat in the shade near a group of trees, watching, when a black lifted truck like Grayden’s pulled in and three more guys got out with their bags.

  You really did invite your boys.

  Wyatt and Landon exchanged a look, one that told me they knew they were in over their heads.

  “We’ll do four-on-four,” Grayden said, only to have you look at him funny.

  “There’s seven of us, dumbshit,” you said, shaking your head.

  Grayden counted again and then laughed. “Right, uh, what about the girls?”

  “You wanna play, Sophie?” Smiling from ear-to-ear, I blinked in disbelief that you asked me.

  “I’m not playing,” Ivey said, kicking her feet up, enjoying her water, and watching Austin. “Unless I’m catcher while he’s batting,” she added softly, eyeing him.

  Austin winked, having heard her. Thankfully, you did not.

  I nodded and Grayden added, “This ain’t fast pitch, Sophie.” Luckily, I had thrown a pair of jean shorts and a tank top on over my bikini.

  You shoved Grayden. “If she wants to play, let her.”

  I played third, the same position I played in fast pitch. Naturally, the line drives came a little faster, as did the pitches, but I held my own at least.

  I was a little nervous with Grayden coming up to bat and shuffled my feet around. You were walking from the outfield to the infield, wearing your cargo shorts and black Hurley t-shirt. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half smile when you saw me; my anxiety disappeared.

  Grayden’s first hit came down the left sideline right at me, only to foul. It tipped off my toe and stung like a bitch. I hopped around, trying to breathe through the pain, determined not to let Grayden know it hurt.

  “Fuck, man, pay attention.” You didn’t look happy, but you also didn’t look too concerned. When the next line drive came at me, smacking my shin, you had some words for him. “What the fuck did I just say, man?” You shoved Grayden back, and he caught himself against the fence.

  “She said she could handle it.”

  “Doesn’t mean you drive one at her, asshole.”

  The commotion between you two got broken up when another one of your boys, clearly the captain of your team back home, yelled at the two of you arguing.

  Wyatt was up next, and I knew he would nail the right side, down the foul line. Always did. So I prepared myself a little more this time.

  Sure enough, Wyatt pulled one down the first base. Austin got to it and tossed it to first, but Wyatt had speed and was there before the throw got there.

  Another guy was up next and hit a hard line drive out to you in left that you snagged on one hop. You saw Wyatt rounding, heading for second and waiting a beat. You then threw a rocket at third, nailing Wyatt in the knee.

  I felt bad for him because I knew when they came out here that was what you were waiting to do.

  Wyatt stumbled around for a minute, the sting momentarily throwing him off from any anger he might have had. You stood in the outfield, hands hung loosely on your hips, watching.

  Wyatt, knowing his chances with you, walked away, but you could tell it wasn’t something he was going to let go.

  Just a few hours later, we were back at the lake in Aunt Megs’s backyard near the bonfire.


  “Whose shirt is that, Sophie?” you asked, and I don’t know why you did. You knew. You always knew.

  “It’s mine,” Wyatt answered, looking hesitant, watching the bonfire and rubbing his shin, a reminder you’d already pegged him once today.

  Your eyes shifted to Wyatt, the chaos in your head clear. It was easy to see because it was in the fisting of your hands and the tightening of your jaw. A condescending smirk was there, and it wasn’t threatening like you would think. It was promising, and Wyatt knew that. Everyone did.

  “I was cold.” I shrugged. “He let me borrow it.”

  “How fucking cute,” you mumbled, looking to Grayden and Austin with an amused laughter. They laughed, following your lead.

  “Don’t be a jerk, Bensen,” I said, trying to make you feel an ounce of the discomfort you were making me feel.

  Looking at me, you wanted to say more. I saw it. And if Wyatt didn’t leave, you would have beaten the crap out of him over a fucking sweatshirt because that was you. I wanted to scream, whimper, and beg you to just act normal and not be so intense all the time.

  But then again, did I want that?

  “Ready Sophie?” Wyatt asked, nodding the direction of the driveway.

  You and your boys looked back at him, amused he was leaving over this.

  “Yeah, just a minute,” I said casually, trying to act as if this conversation and moment hadn’t turned dark, but knowing it had. I started to walk Wyatt out when he realized Landon had forgotten his bag out back.

  This time you laughed. You whispered something I didn’t hear and probably didn’t want to hear. Crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned into your chair, slouching and watching.

  There was a tenderness now that maybe only I could see. It was in your eyes and the hunger in that faint, condescending smile.

  Wyatt went around the front of the house while I went and grabbed Landon’s bag.

  When I got back to the driveway, you were near Wyatt’s face, saying words you never told me because this, what was happening right then, was a side of you I had never seen. It was a side you constantly shielded from me, but I heard about, and you told me didn’t exist. It did though. The passion, the love, it was clear as the night around us. And though you were showing it in ways that weren’t exactly healthy, you showed it in the only way you knew.