Truly

by Carmel Rhodes

  “We’re both fucked in the head,” he grunts.

  I press my palm to his heart. It beats erratic and wild, broken like mine. “Maybe we’re fucked in the heart, too.”

  Melody

  October 1994

  It’s been a minute, Diary, but in my defense, life has been hectic since Sis left, plus it isn’t really considered “cool” being the only eighteen-year-old on the planet who still writes in her journal. Go figure.

  College is this weird purgatory between childhood and adulthood. Like they’re holding us here while we purge the last remnants of immaturity. Now, of course Pastor Granberry would say there was no such place as purgatory. That Jesus died and was resurrected so that our sins could be washed away, but I like the metaphor just the same.

  UCLA has grown on me. It’s still hard being away from Momma, Sis, and Kai, but I don’t hate it here. I was even blessed with a good roommate. A white girl from The Bay Area who loves Tupac as much as I do.

  But she isn’t the reason for this entry.

  He is.

  Yup, I met a boy.

  Jamal Parker.

  I know what you’re thinking. Melody Denise, your momma did not work that hard and pay all that money for you to go to Cali and get pregnant. But it isn’t like that—he isn’t like that. He’s kind of a dork. We met at freshman orientation and he’s been following me around ever since. At first, it was just study sessions in the library where he’d bring me daisies that he’d stolen from the front of the science building. That transformed into lunch outside Kerckhoff Hall and nights watching Living Single in our dorm room.

  He was supposed to be in the friend zone. He is not my type. He’s into science and scoffed at my plan to drop out of school and travel the world. Jamal wants to be a doctor, which should have been my first red flag. All doctors have God complexes. When I told him as much, he laughed, every tooth in his mouth on display, and said I don’t want to play God, Mel. I just want to give people a reason to believe, a reason to have faith.

  That’s what did it, Diary. That’s the moment I knew that Jamal Parker wasn’t the type of man who’d try to change me. He’s the type of man who’d change my last name.

  Melody Parker. It kinda rolls off your tongue, doesn’t it? Now, I just need to find out where he stands on Forrest Gump.

  Click. Click. Click.

  My camera flashes in rapid succession as the sun beams down on us. The grass on the UCLA campus is greener than any grass I’d ever seen in my life. I drop my camera and take in my surroundings. Royce Hall is as beautiful as Momma and Daddy said it was. The brick building stands proudly behind us and I take a moment to breathe. I’m here. I made it.

  Lying back on the blanket, I glance over at Becca. “Did you think when we first had this idea that we’d ever actually be here?”

  Rolling onto her belly, she looks up at the building, her expression turning somber. “I had faith.”

  Her words hit me square in the chest. I blink back tears. “I love you, deep.”

  “Deep, deep.”

  The mood is much lighter now that we are off the boat and away from Noah’s family. We got the fuck out of there first thing and met up with Ethan and Becca. It’s our last night before we turn around and head back home. This trip has changed my life. It helped rebuild my heart and filled my soul. I miss my mother every day, but having this experience makes me feel closer to her than I did when she was alive.

  I raise the camera. “Let’s take a selfie to commemorate the moment.”

  Click.

  Becca grabs the camera and inspects the photo, like there will be a quiz on it later. “Truly.” She turns to gape at me. Her hand tugs at the collar of Noah’s hoodie. “What’s that on your neck?”

  I lift my hand, covering the faint hand shaped bruise she’s referring to. “It’s nothing.”

  “Bullshit it’s nothing.” She sits and crosses her legs, giving me her full attention. “Is Noah...I mean...do you want to tell me something? Is he…”

  “He isn’t abusing me, okay?” I blurt out before she has a chance to finish her thought. My cheeks flush with embarrassment and I wish the ground would open and swallow me whole. “We just....he’s a little rough sometimes…you know…in bed.”

  Her mouth drops open. “Like Fifty Shades of Grey kind of stuff?”

  “No…yes…kinda. I mean, we don’t use whips and things, but like, sometimes it’s just…God, I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a complete freak, but no, he isn’t abusing me. I like it too.”

  “Truly Parker!” she squeals getting up on her knees. “How do you go from virgin to sexual deviant in a month?”

  “Keep your voice down.” I glance around the quad. The campus is mostly quiet since it’s summer, but there are still people milling around here and there.

  “Spill all the details.”

  “No.”

  “Please!” she begs.

  “Fine, but you have to promise to never bring this up again.”

  “Deal.” She shoots me a self-satisfied grin.

  “He’s always been a little rough.” I cringe. “I mean, not like...okay, so you know when his parents called when we were at Target and he went a little psycho?”

  “I recall.”

  “Well, he came back to the room that night and was all, I should switch rooms with Becca, because I don’t want to hurt you…I was all, it’s okay, hurt me.” Her mouth drops open. I tap her chin, closing it. “So, then, he...” My eyes widen to drive the point home.

  “And you liked it?”

  My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “I do. I mean, we don’t always...sometimes he’s sweet, and he…God, this is weird to talk about. You must think I’m some sort of freak. Please don’t think I’m weird.”

  Becca grabs my hand. “I could never think you’re weird. You’re happy and in love and Noah is obsessed with you. Whenever you guys occupy the same space, he’s touching you. I don’t know if you realize it, but you move in sync. It’s almost like a dance. If you fall behind, his pace naturally slows. If you smile, his lips tip up. If you’re sad, or angry, so is he. It’s intense, but I get it. That works for you guys.” Her expression turns somber. “It also makes me realize I don’t have that.”

  “Ethan loves you,” I tell her, not to make her feel better, but because it’s true. He may not have the same possessiveness that Noah has, but I can see his love clear as day.

  “I think...I mean me and Ethan...we aren’t...it isn’t like it used to be. I thought this trip would make us stronger, but I don’t know. It feels like he’s already pulling away.”

  The boys run over, shelving our girl talk for the time being. “How was the gym?” I ask, giving Becca a minute to compose herself.

  “Gym?” Noah looks at me as if I just denounced Christ. “It’s a state-of-the-art basketball complex, Tru, not a gym.”

  “Well, excuse me.” I wave my hands in the air. “How was the basketball complex?”

  “Massive,” Ethan says, looking up from his phone. “But I hear it’s nothing compared to Jameson’s.”

  Noah sits behind me, pulling me between his legs and I smile to myself, thinking Becca was right. He is always touching me. It’s comforting, relishing in that side of him. As much as I crave the monster, I’m starting to really like the prince. “I just got so excited for next year. Our team should be pretty solid.”

  “Even with losing Rawling and Jones?” Ethan asks, and the guys launch into an animated conversation about basketball that I mostly tune out.

  “So, what’s the plan for our last night?” Noah asks, looking down at me. A pair of Ray-Bans cover his eyes, but I know the mischievous twinkle is there.

  “The pier?” I suggest, glancing at our friends.

  “We should go on a date.” Ethan puts his phone back in his bag and runs his fingers up Becca’s leg. She blushes under the attention. He stares at her like he can’t believe he’s here with her. Maybe she’s wrong about him?

&n
bsp; I look up at Noah, half expecting him to shoot down the idea immediately, but to my surprise, he nods. “That sounds cool.”

  I arch a brow at him. “You want to go on a double date?”

  He shoots me a side eye. “This whole thing has been like one big fucking double date. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Well, you aren’t exactly Mr. Romantic.” His lip is still a little swollen, but otherwise, he is as handsome as he’s always been. I run my fingers through his hair and it flops immediately back into place.

  “You don’t think I can be romantic?” I shake my head no. “I’m going to romance the shit out of you, Little One.”

  I snort. “Okay, so what are we going to do on this date?”

  He taps my nose with his finger. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be very romantic, now would it?”

  “No, I suppose it wouldn’t.”

  “You look amazing,” I say as Becca tousles her long blonde hair. She opted for a white mini dress, while I chose a casual black dress that hits my knees and fits my body like it was made specifically for me. I pair it with my shell toe sneakers and denim jacket and hope like hell that I’m dressed appropriately for whatever the boys have planned.

  “Thanks.” She presses her glossy lips together. “Noah’s going to shit when he sees you.”

  I beam. I’ve lived in his hoodie and shorts for most of this trip. It feels good to dress up. And if seeing me out of my usual tomboy uniform isn’t enough, the amount of side-boob action this dress has will have him losing his mind.

  A knock at the door startles us. I grab my bag and we go out into the California night. Noah is wearing a fitted white t-shirt and black jeans. He looks like a young Johnny Deep. His hands find my ass and he pulls me to him. “Goddamn girl, I might have to put a baby in you tonight.” He smirks against my lips.

  “A you look hot would suffice.”

  His mouth finds my ear. “You look hot, so hot, it’s taking every ounce of strength I have not to push you back inside that room and peel this fucking dress off your body.”

  “Uh-uh. I was promised a date with Mr. Romance.”

  He drops a kiss on my nose. “Then let’s romance you up.”

  He lets go of my ass and grabs my hand as we follow Ethan and Becca down to the car. Noah opens the back door for me and I gasp when I see a single daisy laying across the back seat. “How did you know?”

  “I did the required reading.” He swipes a thumb under my eye, catching a tear before it falls. “No crying. The only thing I want to ruin this makeup is you gagging on my cock.”

  I shake my head. “There’s the monster I’ve come to know and love.” My eyes widen at my choice of words, but if he notices, he doesn’t comment.

  “He’s never too far away, Little One.”

  I stare at my daisy as Ethan pulls the car out into the night. Noah drapes his arm casually around my body, and I mold myself to him. He plays with my knee and drops kisses on my forehead, murmuring all the wicked things he plans to do to me at the end of the night. “You know the best thing about this dress?” he asks.

  “What?”

  His hand slides between my thighs and he tugs at my panties. My breath hitches as his calloused finger grazes my slit. “The fact that my hands, my mouth, and my dick can be inside of you within seconds. You’d better believe I’m taking full advantage of it.”

  “Wait until you see the side boob.”

  His eyes glaze over with lust, and he lifts my jacket, checking. His knuckle traces the side of my tit. “No bra?”

  “Kinda impossible in this dress.”

  His voice turns stern. “Keep this jacket on.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else I’ll have to ruin that perfect face of yours a lot earlier than planned.”

  I swallow at the thought and sit back in my seat. I guess I’m keeping the jacket on.

  About twenty minutes later, Ethan parks the car and we all jump out. I stare up at the lights illuminating the pier at night. We take a ride on the iconic Ferris wheel. I snap a selfie of Noah and I perched at the top, the sunset serving as our backdrop. Throwing caution to the wind, I post it to Instagram with the caption, I want to spend the rest of my sunsets with you.

  After the Ferris wheel, we scarf down hot dogs and sip on lemonades as we stroll through the promenade, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of Santa Monica. I snap a few pictures to add to the album, wanting to immortalize this night in print.

  “Hey, look.” Noah points to a tattoo parlor. His eyes twinkle and I know he’s up to something.

  “Noah,” I say warily as he drags me towards the building. “I am not getting a tattoo.” I shake my head back and forth. Not only would my dad have my head on a silver platter, I haven’t put any thought into what I’d even get.

  “Trust me,” he says, as we walk up to the counter. “I got you.” He shakes hands with a man covered in bright tattoos. We follow him back to a private room where he shows us his sketch. It’s a simple script of the word ‘faith’ with a mountain peak behind it.

  “Noah.” I choke back the emotion, and he shrugs like he didn’t just make my whole year. I’m up first. Hopping on the table, Noah gives me reluctant permission to take my jacket off so that I can get the tattoo on my forearm. It hurts like a bitch but doesn’t take more than twenty minutes. Noah gets the same tattoo over his heart.

  “Okay, maybe you aren’t so bad at this romance stuff,” I tell him as we make our way back out into the night.

  “I told you so.” We head towards the club where we’re supposed to meet up with Becca and Ethan. Spotting them on the dance floor, we head in their direction. One song changes into the next as we grind until sweat drips between the valley of my breasts. “I need a drink,” I tell Noah.

  “You stay here. I’ll get you one.”

  He and Ethan head to the bar while Becca and I sway to the music. I slip off my jacket and tie it around my waist.

  “Noah is going to kill you,” Becca yells into my ear.

  “I know,” I tell her. “But it’s too damn hot in here to be wearing a jacket.”

  “So, I should expect more bruises in the morning?”

  “Maybe.” I throw my arms around her neck and we laugh and dance and sing at the top of our lungs.

  The guys come back with our waters and Noah pulls my back to his chest. “I thought I told you to keep the jacket on.”

  “It’s too hot,” I whine, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle and taking a deep pull before recapping it. His hand digs into my hip while the other one wraps around my throat, then he yanks my head back. His mouth lands on mine. His tongue plunges into my mouth as his dick pulses on my ass. He’s claiming me on the dance floor and I want every second of it. By the next song, I’m panting. “I need you.”

  “Come on.”

  I follow him to the back of the club. There’s a long dark hallway that’s mostly empty. He pushes me against the wall. His big body covering mine, he finds the space between my legs, his thick fingers pumping in and out as a song blares on the speakers.

  My forehead drops to his shoulder. His thick fingers push into my center, and my pussy muscles contract around the digits. His mouth lands on mine and he devours my moan. He slips his fingers from my core and pushes them into my mouth. I suck off my juices and then he kisses me, tasting me.

  A pair of drunk girls stumble past us, breaking the spell. “It’s time to go,” he grunts in my ear.

  When we get back to the hotel, he makes good on his promise to ruin my make-up.

  I lay my head on the window, letting the cool breeze whoosh over my face. After a rocky start, this summer ended up being everything I wanted and a few things I didn’t know I needed.

  Three weeks.

  Six states.

  Four best friends.

  It’s insane to think about the person I was when we started this journey. The girl who cared more about the validation of others than herself. The sad girl who never felt lik
e she belonged. I’m not perfect, and that’s okay. I have both physical and emotional scars that are deep and ugly. And that’s okay too, because without them, I probably wouldn’t be here, in this car, with these people, with the wind blowing through my braids.

  My soul is content.

  Our trip back has been decidedly less adventurous than the journey west. We spend the majority of our days driving, only stopping for gas and food, and then to sleep at night. We’re now back in Tennessee where it all began. This time tomorrow we’ll be home. I can’t believe it’s almost over. It’s been the trip of a lifetime. Every moment—both the profound and the mundane, will stay with me forever.

  We pull off the road around nine o’clock that night. I yawn as Noah lifts my bag from the trunk. “How are you sleepy? You were snoring for the last two hours.”

  I shove his shoulder, fighting the smile pulling at my lips. “I do not snore.”

  He wraps his arms around my waist as the neon sign above the motel buzzes. “You sound like a fucking bulldozer.”

  “You obviously don’t want to get laid tonight,” I tease. He doesn’t bother calling my bluff because we both know I’m full of shit. I’ve spent the day alternating between being insanely excited to see my dad, and sad that I won’t get to share a bed with Noah every night anymore.

  Moving towards the door, I pause when I realize Becca and Ethan aren’t following. He’s still by the car, tapping out a message on his phone, and she’s a few steps behind us, watching him with mistrust in her eyes. After the night at the pier, I thought things had gone back to normal between the two of them, but she’s obviously still having doubts. I dislodge myself from Noah and go to my friend. “Talk to him,” I say, hooking my arm around her neck, urging her forward.

  She sucks in a fortifying breath and lets me lead her inside the lobby. “I will.”

  After we check in and find food, we settle into our respective rooms. It’s been a long few days of driving and none of us have the energy to go out and explore. I take a long shower, then snuggle into bed with Noah. His arms lock around me and he drags me on top of him as if I weigh nothing. My breasts press against his chest, since I hadn’t bothered to put on more than a thin pair of cotton panties after my shower. Even those will be off before long.