I frown at the mention of Devin. I’d been so heartbroken at graduation, yet I’ve gone through the entire grieving process in less than a month. Could I have really loved him if all it took was another boy to make me forget? “I’m an awful person.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
“I’m out here with his brother.” I look over to where Ethan and Noah stand. They’ve successfully pitched both tents, and now they’re working on building the fire. “We kind of defined the relationship last night,” I confess.
Realization washes over her face and she digs in her bag to pull out her phone. “Is that why he posted this?” She taps a few times, then turns the screen to face me, showing me Noah’s Instagram. His last post is a picture of his hand on my thigh. The caption is a one-word declaration. Mine.
My jaw hangs open. I grab the phone and scroll the comments. Most are his former teammates making jokes about him being off the market, but there are a few catty ones from girls who mention how I went from one brother to the other and how our relationship won’t last next year at Jameson. One girl even tagged Devin in the post.
“Everyone knows.” My heart sinks. “It’s like I’m the Tedesco family slut.”
Becca rolls her eyes. “You’re being dramatic. It isn’t like you cheated on Devin with Noah. Devin dumped you at graduation. He embarrassed you in front of the whole school.”
“Great so now I’m dating Noah to get back at Devin,” I say quoting another comment under the post.
“I didn’t say that.” Becca snatches her phone back.
“No, but it’s what people think.”
“Who cares what people think?” It’s a genuine question, but it annoys me nonetheless.
“That’s an easy philosophy to have when the whole world thinks you’re perfect,” I snap. I don’t mean to but I can’t help it. Becca is the golden girl. She’s gorgeous and popular, confident and kind. Everyone loves her.
“Okay, one: I’m going to let that slide because I know you’re feeling some type of way, and B: don’t beat yourself up. It’s only high school.”
I swallow thickly, mulling over her words of wisdom. Words I’m not going to get face-to-face next year when she’s in New York. In the few years we’ve known each other, Becca has become like my sister. She was there for me in a way not many people would have been. Something I’d taken advantage of, especially when I became so wrapped up in Devin. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her, but I’m going to miss her like crazy.
“I wish you were going to Jameson.”
Her bottom lip wobbles and she must have come to the same realization. “Me too.”
I’m stunned by her admission. NYU has been her dream since we’d met. “But I thought you were so pumped about New York?”
“I am.” She tosses her blonde locks over to one side of her head. “I mean, in theory, but it’s New York. I’m scared shitless to leave everyone I know behind and start over.”
I stare at her in awe. This is the first time I’m hearing this from Becca who is normally so confident and self-assured, I use to joke that she was like a thirty-year-old woman trapped in an eighteen-year old’s body. “You’re going to kill it.”
“In New York?” She shakes her head. “I’m nothing there. The city is a beast. They don’t care about how popular I was in high school.”
“I just mean, you’re the kind of person who can adapt quickly to their surroundings. New York won’t be any different. You’ll find your groove in no time.”
She shrugs noncommittally. “I guess.”
We’re quiet for a beat. The breeze blows, kicking up the leaves around our feet. “What are you most afraid of?”
“I guess leaving everything behind only to get to the city and fall on my face…” She wrinkles her nose, her eyes trailing to the guys. “Or worse, leaving everything behind, only to fail, then come back with my tail tucked between my legs and everyone else has moved on.”
“Is this about you and Ethan?” I ask. “Because you can totally make long distance work.”
“Our first year of college? I doubt it.”
“People make long distance work all the time.”
“No, they don’t, and in the rare event they do, it’s the exception, not the rule.”
“Have you talked to Ethan about your concerns?”
She shakes her head. “It isn’t just him I’m worried about losing.” She turns and levels me with her gaze. “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”
“Becca? Why would you think you could ever get rid of me?”
“You’re going to Jameson with your boyfriend, and if history proves to be true, you won’t have time for me anymore.”
I bite my lip. I did lose myself in Devin a bit, but it’s different with Noah, isn’t it? “I’m sorry that I haven’t been the greatest friend in the past, but I promise we will always be good. Plus, I doubt Noah and I make it through freshman year.”
She snorts. “He’s obsessed with you.”
“Jameson is like a whole new world, a world in which Noah will be the king.”
“You will be his queen,” she insists.
“For now.” I smile sadly at her, keeping my insecurities about my new relationship under lock and key. I don’t want to make this conversation about me. Grabbing her hand, I say, “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“When you’re killing it in New York, if you ever get homesick, and feel like coming back, call me first. I’ll come running and remind you of all the reasons you wanted to go in the first place.”
She blinks back tears. “And if that asshole gives you a hard time at Jameson, you’ll call me and I’ll come for his kneecaps.”
“Deal,” we say in unison, and we wrap each other in a tight hug.
“I don’t know if we should be jealous or turned on?” Noah says coming to a stop in front of us.
“Turned on.” Ethan grins. He grabs my camera and snaps a picture of us. “Definitely turned on.”
The river is relatively calm. The gentle ebb and flow of the current, the sun beaming down on us from high in the cloudless sky. The entire afternoon passes by in serene bliss.
I snap picture after picture of the river, the guys fishing. The tree lined shore. It’s all so beautiful, so far from anything I’d ever experienced. My dad is from the south side of Chicago, and though my mom was born and raised in Newton, neither are what you’d call outdoorsy. I’ve never camped, fished, or slept outside before in my life. I’d been dreading this day, but now that it’s here, it’s not so bad.
Becca shuffles up to my side, and lifting her phone high in the air, she tells me to smile. I do, then we take one with my phone, and upload them to Instagram with the captions, Thelma to my Louise, and Louise to my Thelma. I’m Thelma, which considering my track record with guys, I couldn’t even be mad at.
I lay back in the small fishing boat the guys rented, adjusting the life vest around my neck. Noah grins at me. The sunlight highlighting his perfectly straight white teeth. “Why are you still wearing that thing?”
“Because they said we had to?” I’m not much of a fisherwoman but I did read the release we had to sign to rent the boat, and I’m not the strongest swimmer.
As if to prove his point, Noah turns to Ethan, who whipped his off the moment we made it into the water, then to Becca, who has hers hung open, revealing her skimpy bikini top. “Do you always follow the rules, Little One?”
I narrow my eyes at him and the use of that nickname. “Only when I’m trapped on a tiny boat with someone who wouldn’t think twice about tossing me overboard.”
“I wouldn’t throw my girlfriend overboard.” He flashes me a grin that makes my heart want to leap out of my chest. I’m his, a fact that I love, but it also scares me because what if the trolls are right? Noah is singularly focused on basketball. I’m just something he’s doing to piss off his brother.
“Speaking of the G-Word, can you not broadcast that all over s
ocial media?”
He scoffs. “Tru, you’re mine. My dick in your pussy every night confirms as much. If I want to post a picture of your fucking legs, I will.”
“Even if it makes me uncomfortable?” I challenge.
“Especially then.” His eyes darken with lust. “What are you so afraid of?”
Loving you. I think but don’t comment out loud. I’m not sure what the cause of this sudden mood swing is but pissing Noah off on a tiny fishing boat in the middle of a lake isn’t the smartest idea. Instead, I return my attention to my rod, which has been propped against the side of the boat since we rowed out.
I feel his heat at my back, but don’t bother sparing him a glance. One long leg straddles me, followed by another, as his hand settles on my thigh. He unsnaps the clips, keeping my life jacket closed, and his fingers dip inside, palming my breast. “Who do these belong to?” His voice is low and smokey.
“You.”
His hand glides further south and he cups my sex, not in a teasing way, but with so much possession I can’t help but arch into him. I’d never admit it out loud. Hell, I hate even admitting it to myself, but I love his possession. It feeds the lost part of my soul. The part that lost her mother too young and has been grasping for a life vest ever since. “And this?”
“Yours.” I all but moan.
His hand finally finds its home around my neck, his thumb pressing against my pulse; my head tilts back, and I press a kiss to the scar on his chin. Click. I turn just in time to see the photo he snapped. Me between his legs, eyes lidded, my mouth on him, my bikini top so disheveled, you can see just the smallest hint of my areola behind his strong forearm. He stares at the camera, with an intense possession in his eyes. It screams ownership.
“You cannot post that.”
“Why?”
“Because people are assholes. Because they think I’m a slut for being with you and your brother. Because your brother,” I spout, listing the numerous reasons why we should keep a low profile.
“I don’t give a fuck about his feelings.” He growls into my ear. “Just like he didn’t give a fuck about yours when he left you at graduation.”
I pull away at the venom in his tone, at the audacity of him to throw that in my face right now. As if he hasn’t caused me enough stress and heartache himself. “You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re mine.” He posts the picture with no caption, because in this case, what more can words say.
Two hours and zero fish later, we return the boat and head back to camp. Noah has been quietly brooding since the Instagram incident, but I refuse to baby him. He doesn’t get to be an asshole to me because of the strange jealousy he has for Devin. I can’t change my past. I can’t change the fact that even though he broke my heart I had feelings for him. That I have compassion for not rubbing my relationship with Noah in his face.
Before long the sun begins to set, painting the sky in oranges and pinks. The guys start the fire and since there are no fish, we end up roasting hot dogs for dinner.
I snap a few more pictures of our surroundings and call my dad before calling it a night. I crawl into our tent, hoping that when Noah comes to bed, he’ll have lost his attitude.
“Mom,” I whisper to the quiet air. “What am I doing?” I wait. For what I don’t know. Seconds tick into minutes, and just as I’m about to give up hope, the sound of the tent unzipping startles me as Noah slips inside.
“Really, Mom.” I chuckle sadly.
He stumbles towards me, sliding under the covers and dragging my body, like a rag doll, on top of his. His hands find my ass and he squeezes holding me to him like he’s holding on for dear life.
“Are we still fighting?” I ask quietly.
“Why do you sound worried?” His voice gives nothing away.
“Because you do cruel things to my body when we’re fighting, and I’d just like to know what to expect.”
“You like when I’m cruel.”
“Sometimes,” I admit because there’s no point in lying about it. Noah broke something in me, or he woke something up, I don’t know, but it’s there, lying beneath the surface. The ever-present itch that only his cruelty can scratch. Maybe it’s because of my mom, and the guilt I feel over her death. I welcome the pain because maybe I deserve it.
“And other times?” he asks, still running his fingers up and down my back.
“Other times I like it when you’re kind.” I blink back tears I didn’t give permission to fall. Being on the road was supposed to bring me closer to my mom, but I was too naive to realize the emotions that would come with them.
A sob catches in my throat, causing Noah to meet my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“I…nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me and tell me nothing when it’s obviously something.”
“I was just thinking about my mom.”
His grip on me tightens. I expect him to get cagey about me talking about my emotions like Devin did. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just me talking about my mom reminded him of his dad, and when he thought of his dad he spiraled. Devin’s spiral I can handle. It’s just him drinking and getting high until he passes out. Noah, on the other hand, well his darkness is a lot scarier.
“Tell me about her,” he says after a full minute.
“She loved gangster rap but she grew up in the church. So all her words of wisdom were either bible quotes or rap lyrics.” I glance up at him. I can only make out his shadow in the darkness. “Once, when I was in elementary school and I came home crying because the girls in my school made fun of me for having dark skin and nappy hair, she played Tupac’s Keep Your Head Up. From that day on, whenever I had a bad day, or felt like maybe I wasn’t good enough, I played that song. I still play it to this day.”
“When’s the last time you played it?” he asks.
“After that night in the treehouse,” I whisper.
He kisses the top of my head. “I’m not your prince, Truly. Our story isn’t a fairytale. I don’t vow to always be kind, or do what the world deems as right, but I will always do right by you. I will always protect you. Plus,” he pauses, and I can feel the corner of his mouth tip up, “I’ll fuck you better than the prince ever could.”
I turn and rest my chin on his chest. “I’ve never fucked a prince, so how will I know who’s better?”
“You’ll have to take my word for it.”
“You’ve fucked a prince?” I giggle.
He slaps me hard on the ass. “Fuck off.”
We laugh and I snuggle deeper into his chest. “Tell me about your dad?” My voice wobbles a bit from nerves. Devin always shut down when it came to his father. I’d be crying into his shirt about how much I missed my mom, but when the conversation turned to his dad, he’d clam up. To my surprise, Noah doesn’t.
“He was a prince.” His voice takes on a reverent tone. “I mean aside from the knocking two girls up at once thing.”
“Yeah, how did that work? Devin never actually told me.”
“Well, Devin’s mom and our dad were high school sweethearts. Then he went to college and met Mom and they hooked up.”
“But he married Devin’s mom, right?”
“Yeah. My mom was never into Dad past the night they spent together. It was a casual hookup that resulted in me. She ended up marrying Richard her senior year. He came from money. Wanted to start his company in New York, which meant we would have had to move. Dad threw a fit. He didn’t have much money, but he had some clout from his glory days as a basketball player. They finally relented and moved to Newton. Richard could build his company in Atlanta and I got to be close to my dad. I spent every weekend over there.”
“When did you and Devin stop being close?”
He stiffens and rolls so that we are on our sides, facing each other. “That’s enough story time for tonight.”
“But—”
“I said it’s enough, Tru.” His voice takes on a serious tone and I know better than to push it
.
“Fine.” I pout. We are quiet again. I can feel the tension radiating off him. I want it gone. So, I do the thing that always makes me feel better. “Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice.” I rap, crawling on top of him.
“What are you doing?” he chuckles, grabbing my hips.
“I say the darker the flesh, the deeper the roots.” Scooting down, I slip my hand under the waistband of his gym shorts and my lips press against the head of his cock, as I continue spouting out lyrics. He fists a hand in my braids, while I rock the mic.
Melody
August 1994
The closer we get to California, the more real it becomes. I’m actually doing this. I’m moving across the country to go to a school I only applied to because I was sure there was no way I’d actually be able to attend.
I could have applied to Jameson like the majority of my graduating class. I could be two hours from home. But no, my dumb ass thought I could outsmart Momma. She may not have a degree, but she is a warrior woman. She had no choice. When Daddy died, she was forced to figure out how to raise two kids on her own.
God got me, she’d always say when times were really hard. Those times when we had to choose between the light bill and groceries. Somehow, she always found a way.
Life will always be hard, she’d say. It’s hard for us, it’s hard for the people next door, and the woman halfway across the world. Everyone has demons, and don’t think for one second that your demons are worse than anyone else’s. But faith, faith will guide you over any obstacle. Choose faith over fear, be wise, be brave and I promise you’ll come out on top every single time.
So, this is me, from this day forward, choosing faith over fear.
God got me.
The outside world whizzes by in a blur of greens and browns and grays. Noah’s hand is, as always, placed possessively on my thigh while he steers us through the desert.
Texas felt like a turning point. It was there, Noah somehow morphed from my tormentor into my lover. I’m sad to leave, though I can’t say I’ll miss sleeping outside.
Truly Page 17