My face flamed a bright red. Oooh, lawd, boy, if you only knew! I cleared my throat to regain some sort of composure. “Well, uh, let’s see how about, if I win, you let me see what’s in that bag of yours.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, wrapping another ribbon around a tree.
“I think you do.”
He switched tactics. “There’s nothing to show.”
“Ha! You’re lying, Ezra! You shut that case with a finality that told me you were hiding something and I, being the curious kitty that I am, really, really, really want to know what it is!”
“Haven’t you heard? Curiosity killed the cat.”
I wagged my brows. “What are you saying? You’d kill me if I found out?”
“No,” he said, “but I would die of embarrassment. That counts.”
“Oh my gato! Now I have to know!”
He laughed nervously. “Pick something else,” he said.
“No.”
“Come on, Jupiter, pick something else.”
“Fine,” I huffed, scaling over a collection of boulders.
Ezra stuck out his hand to help me down. “Thank you,” I told him, sliding my hand into his.
When I did this, when his warm palm met mine, I forgot what we were talking about. We stood, both of us silent, staring down at our connected hands. Eventually Ezra let mine go and continued walking, but not before squeezing my fingers so slightly I barely registered it, but it was there. I knew it. Because I was aware of even the minutest cells in my body when I was around him. It was an awareness of myself I’d never felt around anyone else but Ezra Brandon.
He cleared his throat while tying yet another ribbon. “And the favor?”
“I want you to read something, Brandon.”
“Um, just read something?”
“Well, read something out loud.” I followed his lead and cleared my throat, cleared the hesitation. “To me. Without questions after.”
He laughed. “Okay, I guess.”
“Can you do a British accent?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
I have to fess up to something. In eleventh grade, after reading Sense and Sensibility, when I remembered that Ezra’s last name was Brandon, I almost swooned with giddiness. Why, you ask? Because I was a fan of the incomparable Jane Austen, and Austen, of course, conjured the enigmatic yet strangely steady Colonel Brandon. In other words, Ezra Brandon’s personality doppelgänger, and that astounded me. It was like this blinding moment of profound perception, like Austen knew a previous version of Ezra personally or something. Both are quiet, constant, gallant, and unapologetically masculine. They are both remarkable yet unassuming representatives of their gender. Colonel Brandon is the sort of character most readers find underwhelming at first glance, but when Austen peels back his layers, she reveals the most extraordinary person, much like Ezra.
I sighed like an idiot.
“So, um, I know what favor I’d like,” Ezra said quietly, as if he were afraid of his own voice.
I sidled next to him as we continued walking. “Oh yeah? What’s that then?”
“When we get to Seattle, you have to remain my friend.”
I didn’t know what to think of his “favor.” It was confusing because I didn’t think he would have cared one way or another if we stayed friends. Ezra wasn’t in the habit of being active socially, as you well know.
“Define friend,” I begged, sort of desperate to know what his definition was.
“You are strange,” he commented, but continued. “You know, someone to hang with, someone to study with, watch films occasionally, maybe grab a bite to eat?” He ran the palm of his hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”
“Is this because I’ll be the only one you’ll know in Seattle?”
He laughed, but I didn’t think he found it funny. “You overanalyze the shit out of things sometimes, Jupiter.”
“Well?” I asked.
“No, okay? Damn. I just thought it would be cool if we stayed friends with one another is all.”
I felt stupid. I don’t know why I questioned everyone’s motives all the time. I mean, I kind of knew why, but since I was aware of it, I hoped to outgrow that part of myself, but obviously it bubbled up, and usually at the most inopportune times. My family was weird, I was weird, everything about me was weird, and I was constantly called out on it. Naturally I became defensive, and usually by calling out motives aloud. Nothing made people more uncomfortable than having to answer for their behavior.
“Sorry,” I told him. “Of course I’d love to hang out with you in Seattle, but that can’t be your favor. I’m not letting the fact of whether we remain friends in Seattle hang upon the stripping abilities of a hitchhiker named Ruby.”
Ezra laughed and meant it this time. “Deal. Let me think of something else then.”
“What are the terms?”
“What do you mean?”
“I say she loses the bra first,” I said.
Ezra blushed, making me giggle. “I feel like an idiot, but her shoes?”
“Boring!”
“Listen, I’m trying to win, and logically, losing the shoes seems the most feasible option.”
“Fine. I’d say let’s shake on it, but I need to know what I’m risking.”
“Okay, let me read your texts to Frankie.” I didn’t respond, didn’t know how to really. “I know you’re talking to her about me, and it’s driving me crazy not knowing what’s being said.”
I felt my face sober, but my heart started to race at the mere thought of him reading those texts. “Have you lost your damn mind?” I finally asked.
“I take that as a no?”
“That’s a big hell to the no!”
“Come on, man.”
“Okay,” I said, and his face lit up. I was going to enjoy this next bit, “but only if you let me see what’s in the bag.”
“No way.”
“Exactly.”
“All right,” he said, tying another ribbon, “then karaoke. On a date of my choosing.”
I smiled. “Deal.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ezra and I arrived at the waterfall shortly after Ruby and Kai, thankfully before she started undressing. We stood at the top of what looked like a ten- to twelve-foot waterfall cascading into a deep blue pool of water roughly fifty feet wide and thirty feet long and half surrounded by a rust-colored beach that met bits of nature that climbed up a steep hill. The pool fed into a ravine through a small crevice on the opposite side where a rock face surrounded the other half of the pool and shot straight up to where we stood near the waterfall’s edge, similar to The Narrows in Zion. The water fell aggressively enough to churn the base, creating a gorgeous repercussion against the rock face. The water foamed and frothed where the fall met the calm. I itched to jump in.
It was a sight for the ears as well as a sight for the eyes. Ezra bent forward toward me, and my belly felt much like the stirring water below. “Unbelievably beautiful,” Ezra commented in my ear.
I felt like I’d swallowed my tongue and so nodded my answer.
Ruby broke the moment in half with a happy girlish squeal, something I knew boys found attractive if Kai’s reaction meant anything, but could never bring myself to duplicate.
“Oh my God! Let’s get in!” she yelled over the deluge, reaching under her shirt for her bra clasp.
I grabbed Ezra’s arm, confident in my triumph, but she threw a wrench in my short-lived victory by simultaneously toeing the heel of a sandal. We both braced ourselves. It would be a race to the finish. With one shoe gone, she threaded her arm through the loop of her arm strap as she shoved the heel of her other sandal off and, much to my dismay, kicked it off to the side before she even got the other arm through.
“No!” I shouted at the sky, then fell to my knees. Goodbye, Colonel Brandon monologue!
Ezra could not stop laughing at me as Ruby jumped over the drop. Si
lly Kai shoved his shirt off his head and joined her, shouting something as he fell.
“You won!” I cried out.
Ezra bent over me, holding out his hand. I took it and he pulled me so quickly up to his side, my head swam. An unsubtle reminder of how strong he was.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the falls.
I bent to unlace my boots and tugged them off, walking a bit to tuck them into the V of a low tree. Without thinking, I ran straight for the edge of the falls, past a surprised-looking Ezra, and tossed myself over, turning toward him at the last second to catch an expression of wonder and something liken to amazement. I winked as I disappeared behind the mantle and over the brink, in every sense of the expression.
The fall was exhilarating. Three seconds of pure adrenaline, free falling to the sound of rushing water, and suddenly I couldn’t remember a moment before that one, at least not with the same eyes. It was as if the look on Ezra’s face started everything new again. No one had looked at me like that before. It felt so final, so adult, like a line drawn in sand, but heated to an impossible temperature, and solidified into glass. A once malleable life calcified into two definite pieces composed of “what was before” and “what was after.” No longer was I Jupiter Corey, daughter, sister, child. I was Jupiter Corey, adult, with adult thoughts and adult feelings.
I blasted through the cool water feet first and my body felt paralyzed for a moment. I wasn’t prepared for the cool temperature, but quickly shook the shock, bobbing to the surface with an involuntary shout, stupefied by newly open eyes, open ears, and an unexpectedly open life, the haze of girlhood somewhere at the bottom of that chilled pool. The possibilities were unexpectedly endless.
I’d surfaced in time to see Ezra tumbling off the edge of the falls down toward me, his arms and legs flailing to keep himself upright. His smile was infectious, and I found myself copying him. He shot through the water next to me, disappeared for half a minute, then popped up beside me, tossing his hair to the side to shake the water out of his eyes. He was utterly adorable. His expression was open and was one of pure happiness.
He swam nearer, his face a foot from mine. “Totally worth coming out here,” he said.
I looked around at my magical surroundings. “It’s pretty amazing.”
“Come on, guys!” Kai yelled from the shore, making his way up the sloped nature path to jump once more.
Ruby was already at the top of the hill.
I turned back to Ezra. “Should we?”
Ezra looked around him back toward the falls. “No, not yet,” he said. “Come here.” He grabbed my arm and we waded over to the falls themselves.
He guided me around the falling water and up onto a little alcove buried behind the cascading water.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
We stood upon the ledge, the water echoing around us. Tiny, varying rivulets of water spilled down the alcove’s walls in a symphony of dripping song, the sound magnified by its secluded recess. It was a place where wondrously only two people in the world could exist at once. It was surreal, the stuff of literal dreams. I knew I would never forget that place, never forget the feeling I was experiencing, and who I was with for as long as I lived.
Ezra reached out his hand and caught the fall, interrupting its flawless veil for a mere moment, but it was a moment it would never get back again, frozen in those precious seconds despite its ability to immediately forget the brief intermission, because I was there to witness it, like we were influencing history forever in that tiny, dazzling, exclusive world.
“It’s seductive!” I yelled over the din of water.
Ezra shook his head, letting me know he hadn’t heard me. He edged closer and leaned his ear near my mouth. I swallowed, afraid to repeat myself in such an intimate way.
I tried to shrug it off as if it was nothing. Ezra stood, balanced himself next to me, gripped me by the shoulders, and bent his mouth to my ear. “Tell me,” he ordered.
I swallowed. “It-it’s seductive,” I told him.
He pulled away and his eyes met mine. He stared at me with the most serious expression and my heart raced, beating so harshly in my chest I was convinced he could hear it even over the cacophony. Finally, and with obviously great difficulty, he turned his gaze to the water and dropped his hands to his side.
Before I had the chance to feel my disappointment, he whipped his stare back toward me and mouthed something at me, but I couldn’t read his lips. He grabbed my shoulders and brought me in so closely my chest rested against his panting one. We were so close I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. His eyes searched my own for something and my blood pumped furiously once more through my head, chest, and stomach. His eyes betrayed a furious war battling within him. He’s going to kiss me, I thought. His hands raised to my hair and he ran them through its wet length, pulling it to the ends. The sensation of Ezra’s hands on my hair was more than I thought I could bear, until, that is, his fingers found the tops of my ears. Silently, he rubbed the tips between his thumb and index fingers, his eyes studying what he was doing as if he’d forgotten everything else around him. He closed his lids like he was memorizing the feel of my skin. I was learning the roughness of his fingertips, the temperature of his unbelievably powerful hands.
I felt like I could tip over at any moment. In a daze, I began to pitch forward, so I grabbed one of his forearms with a hand to steady myself. This startled him back to the present and he pulled away so quickly it left me stunned.
“What?” I asked, confused.
He shook his head and pointed toward the outside edge of the falls and guided me out, falling into the water without looking back, so I followed him, diving through, and coming out near the shore. He whipped out of the water so fast I couldn’t keep up.
“Ezra, wait!” I yelled, but he ignored me. “Wait!”
“Can’t,” he said, sounding a little desperate.
I fought to gain footing up the hill to follow the path. Being fully clothed and sopping wet didn’t help. By the time I reached the top, I was out of breath but ran after him anyway. “Ezra, jeez, calm down! Can you just stop?”
He was at least twenty feet away before he ceased walking, his head hung low, yet he didn’t turn around. He lifted his head, his hand brushed across the back of his neck. His hair clung everywhere his touch hadn’t disturbed.
“What did you say to me behind the falls?” I asked, advancing toward him.
I reached him. His jaw was clenched, his forehead pinched in frustration. His T-shirt plastered itself against his chest; his jeans hung on his hips.
“What did you say behind the falls, Ezra?”
“Get your boots, Jupiter.”
“No.”
He looked at me, narrowed his eyes. “Fine,” he said, turning toward the waterfall’s edge, straight for my shoes. I followed him closely.
“Tell me what you said back there and I’ll leave you alone about this. It’ll be like it never happened,” I told him.
He shook his head, his teeth clenched. I grabbed his arm, made him look at me. There was something in his expression. “Instant regret,” I whispered to no one, making my stomach drop to my feet.
I let go of his arm and sprinted up the incline to the tree that held my boots. Absently, I noticed Kai and Ruby weren’t anywhere around. I yanked the boots from their resting place, leaned against a nearby boulder, and shoved the shoes back on. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Get to your phone. Call Frankie. Get to your phone. Call Frankie. And don’t cry!
The hill was steep and in my manic state, I wasn’t being as careful as I should have. I slid, my hands catching on the rocks below. I saw the blood dripping before I felt it, but I ignored it. I spun around, desperate to find the first ribbon. I could have sworn it was right here, I thought.
“They ripped them off,” Ezra said quietly, shocking me. He was leaning against a tree at the bottom of the incline, dripping water to the earth below.
“Kai wouldn�
��t do that,” I told him.
“You’re right, he wouldn’t,” Ezra said, “but I’m guessing Ruby would. I’m also guessing she let him lead the way.”
Ezra glanced toward my hands. “Jesus, Jupiter. What happened?” he asked. Without hesitation, he tugged off his T-shirt, drained it by twisting it, then tore it in two. “Let me,” he said, gently taking one of my hands and examining it. “They’re covered in dirt.”
“Who cares,” I told him, feeling dejected.
He didn’t respond, only took me by the elbow and led me back to the pool, and made me dip my hands into the running water. Gently, he examined the cuts.
“Not too deep, but when we find the car, I’ve got an antibiotic ointment I want to put on them. This water isn’t stagnant, but I don’t want to run the risk.”
I’d had enough. “Just stop it.”
He looked at me. “Only trying to help.”
“Who cares about my damn hands? It’s just a few scrapes. We both know you’re avoiding addressing what happened in there,” I said, pointing at the falls.
He took one hand in his and wrapped a scrap of his damp T-shirt around my palm then did the same for the other.
“We need to find the car,” he said.
“And kick Ruby to the gosh damn curb.”
“Agreed.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Told you so.”
“Yes, you did,” he said maturely, avoiding the bait. I rolled my eyes.
“Do you have any idea where to go from here?” I asked.
“That way,” he said with such authority I believed him.
“Tell me what you said,” I ordered as we walked into the woods together.
“No.”
“Why not?”
He breathed deeply. “Because. Just no.”
“So you like ears,” I told him.
His face flamed bright red. “Please let this go.”
“I’ll let this go when you tell me what you said.”
“I will never tell you what I said.”
I raised a brow. “Then I will never let it go.”
“You like to torture me.”
I like to torture you?
“Whatever you said, why’d you say it then?” I asked, curious.
Get in the Car, Jupiter Page 13