by Emilia Finn
“I got you something.” Ben turns to me a little, so he can speak without being overheard. “Something maybe you’d like to wear when you’re gone. You know, to remember me by.”
Kids squeal around us while they tear open presents. The adults move around and try to minimize the carnage, so despite the fact we seem to be in the middle of a war zone, we still maintain a kind of privacy.
“You think I won’t remember you?” I turn further with a smile, only to stop when the view in my peripherals makes the breath in my lungs freeze.
His hand is still bruised. The knuckles swollen. But his rough hand holds a delicate jewelry box that makes my heart pound.
“Ben…”
“This isn’t what it’s gonna look like, okay? So don’t freak out. And if your dad sees it, plead my case before he murders me.”
I give a nervous, tittering laugh. “Okay.”
With shaking hands and a nervous nod, he opens the box and presents a silver ring set. One is larger than the other, and both show tiny little diamonds embedded into the ring so the bands have a smooth finish. The diamonds, when pushed together, make a heart so when we wear our halves, we each hold half of the heart.
“These are promise rings. I wear one, and you wear one, and together, we promise to love each other. We promise to be strong, and smart, and faithful. We promise to come back together eventually, and when we do, maybe we’ll be old enough and crazy enough to replace these with a different kind of promise.”
“Oh my god, Ben…” My hand shakes as he takes the smaller band and begins to feed it onto my finger.
He slides it onto that finger, but on the wrong hand.
“It’s a promise that we’re going to be good to each other, even if we’re forced apart by distance and time.” He peeks up through his lashes and meets my eyes. “And if we’re ever in doubt, we only have to look at these silver bands and remember that we both promised, and that it’s all going to be okay.”
“Jesus, Ben.” My voice cracks, but I still study my gift as though it were a ten-carat diamond and a different kind of question. “Wow.”
“You’ll wear it?”
“Yes, every single day. I promise.” I reach into the box and take his out, only to glance around the room and stop on the only set of eyes that watches us.
Aunt Tink sits on a kitchen stool about twenty feet away, with her legs crossed and a cup of coffee held up to her nose the way I do. She inhales, and absorbs the pleasure of caffeine first thing in the morning. But her eyes remain on us. Her brow is lifted, her fingernail taps the outside of her mug in slow, steady taps.
Despite her stare, she doesn’t seem mad. Just watchful.
I turn back to Ben and swallow down my nerves. Grabbing his hand, I slide the ring onto the same finger he placed mine on. Our eyes meet as I push it home, and in the chaotic silence, we both nod.
We promise.
“Will you wear yours every single day?” I look him up and down. “You’ve never worn jewelry in all the time I’ve known you. You don’t even wear a watch.”
“I’ll wear this every second that I’m not working.” He reaches out to the coffee table and rescues my coffee before one of the kids destroys it with his wild thrashing and pterodactyl screeching. He places it in my hands, and grins when I lift to sip, and show off my ring. “I’ll leave it in my locker while training,” he continues, “but other than that, it’ll be on. I promise.”
“Will you wear it at your next fight? Have one of our cornermen hold it while you fight, then as soon as it’s over, you can put it back on. Might make those bitches take a hint.”
He chuckles. “I swear. I’ll ask your dad to hold it. You think he’ll mind?”
I laugh and lean into him. “Maybe ask Aunt Tink. She hasn’t Hulk-smashed us yet, so I think maybe she’s the best choice.”
He looks over my shoulder and studies her for a moment. I don’t have to look to know she’s staring right back. I don’t have to peek to know she’s laying down her threats in silence. But when he gives a gentle nod and comes back to meet my eyes, I laugh and know they came to an agreement.
“I’m sad I can’t make your next fight.” My bottom lip pops into a pout that annoys me. I don’t pout, but here I am, fat bottom-lip while I yearn for a boy. “It’s during my first set of exams, so Mom laid down the law. I can’t fly out for this one.”
His eyes shadow, because I know it makes him sad too. “You’ll watch? I’ll buy the pay-per-view for you.”
“I’ll watch, I promise. You can’t stop me.” My eyes flicker down to his bottom lip as he nibbles on it in thought. It’s like he has something to say. Something he wants me to know, but he can’t say it here. “Ben…?”
“Mm?” His eyes flicker between mine and my lips.
“We promised.” I take his hand, and smile when our rings brush together. “It’s gonna be okay.” My family remains oblivious to everything except caffeine and wild kids, so I lick my bottom lip to moisten it, then I begin leaning in to–
“Shit, guys!” Uncle Jack drops down into the nonexistent space between Ben and I, crushing my hand beneath his ass. “What a morning, huh?”
“Yeah.” Grunting, I tear my hand from beneath his two hundred and something pounds of fighter muscle, set my coffee back on the table, then rub my wrist and scowl. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Taking care of business.” He turns to me, effectively blocking Ben out, and puckers his lips. “But I’ll take a smooch from my girl. I’ve missed you like I’d miss my arm.”
“Speaking of arms,” I growl. “I’m gonna break yours.”
I walk over to Ben’s house later that afternoon and knock on the front door. I don’t normally knock, but for the next three and a half years, I’m not living in this town, so it feels a little different. I’ve been family in this home for a long time, and told a bunch of times I’m welcome whenever I want. But everything feels different now, so I drop my hands into my pockets and rock on my heels in an attempt to fight the chill in the air.
Snow dropped steadily all night, and though it’s not snowing now, it stuck to the ground, so I had to walk through piles every time I passed a home that hadn’t shoveled.
Oz has shoveled, of course. Or perhaps Ben. This place looks ready to accept the queen of England; though I suspect the queen in this scenario is Oz’s mom. She’s older, and though she’s healthy and able to move around, there’s no way Ben, nor Oz would leave the front walk a risk for slipping.
“I got it!”
I smile at the sound of the young female voice, and wait with adrenaline racing in my veins for who I know will answer the door.
Olivia – Livi – Conner is Ben’s younger sister. She’s only a year younger than me, which means she’s been a part of our group over the years too, but Ben is what we might describe as protective of his family. When we’re at the gym, he lets Livi hang out. But when we’re doing dumb shit that almost always ends with us being arrested, she gets banished long before we break the law.
He can’t stop me and Bean from being dumb, he can only follow us around and hope to clean up our mess before the cops – the cops being his stepdad – get involved. But Livi gets no such leeway. She’s under house arrest for the rest of her life, as far as Ben is concerned.
The heavy door finally swings open to reveal jet black hair and rosy red lips. She’s her mother’s twin, and so beautiful, it makes my teeth ache.
“Smalls!” She jumps out the door and throws her arms around my neck.
She’s about my height, and only a couple pounds heavier, though her pounds are softer. She’s in the gym most days, because the rest of her family is, but she doesn’t train like Bean and I do. Livi tends toward the yoga and dance sessions, and has never once stepped into the octagon when Bean and I offered to show her how it’s done.
She’s an artsy type, and a billion times smarter than me. She doesn’t struggle with school the way I do. And yet, her brother still kinda loves me.
“I’ve missed you so much, Liv.”
“We haven’t hung out in so long.” She grunts as she speaks, and tries her hardest to squeeze me tight. “Jesus, Evie. I’ve missed your face so much.” She pulls back and glowers. “And I know you aren’t even here to see me. It’s like I’m invisible most of the time.”
My grin curves up.
“Ugh.” She pulls back and waves me in. “He’s in his room. It’s gross, by the way. This kissy-kissy stuff is creeping us all out.”
“Aw hey, Smalls.” Oz swings through the living room, backtracks and pulls me in for a hug, then continues on like nothing happened. “Also, yes,” he calls out from the kitchen. “It’s creepin’ me out, too.”
My face burns, but it positively flames when Ben walks into the room with wide eyes and a big grin.
His grin drops when he catches sight of me, then his cheeks turn a little pale. “You’re blushing.” He looks around, as though the answers must be written on the walls. “She’s blushing. Livi! What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!” In true baby sister fashion, Liv rolls her eyes, squeezes my hand, and then follows Oz out of the room.
“Why are you blushing?” Ben’s words are just a whisper as he steps forward and stops only when our toes touch. His hands come up to cup my face. “I swear, I’ve never seen you blush before, but here you are, red cheeks and wide eyes.”
“And her hands are on your hips!” Oz shouts. “Evie is touching the sasquatch’s butt.”
Livi giggles, and Ben growls.
“I don’t know this feeling,” I whisper. “Blushing is for losers.”
“But you’re blushing.”
“I know!” I lift my hands away from his belt. I was holding his belt! Not his hips or his butt. “I think this is how it’s gonna be for a while, until everyone stops being weird.” I scowl when Oz pokes his head around the corner and makes a face. “You’d think, as adults, they’d be able to control themselves.”
“Let’s hope, as almost adults, you guys can control yourselves.” Ben’s mom steps into the room and lifts a dangerous brow. Lindsi is one of the fierce ones, one of the women we all know the lengths she’ll go to, to protect her family. She’s sweet as pie and has always been kind to me, but she doesn’t play. “Make good choices, guys. It’s not only Evie’s family that are watching this shit play out.”
“This shit,” I parrot. This shit is the relationship that has the power to make me unbelievably happy… or sad. The distance hurts, but the love… it feels good. “I always make good choices, Miss Lindsi. You don’t have to worry.”
She purses her lips, studies us for a moment with her hands on her hips, then she nods. “I’m going to trust you guys, but don’t abuse that. Also, no sleepovers.”
“Mom!”
“Ben!” She wags a finger between us. “The question will come eventually. You’ll say it’s a best friend thing, like when Mac sleeps over. And I could almost believe you, but… no. Instead of you asking and me having to be the bad guy by saying no, I’m laying that rule out now. And I assure you, I will call Aiden and Tina and make sure they’re on the same page. No sleepovers until Evie graduates. Hard rule.”
“Wasn’t even gonna ask,” Ben grumbles. “As if I’d ask to let my girl sleep over in this house.”
“Your girl.” She shakes her head. “I hear your attitude, Benjamin. Don’t get mad at me for trying to save you idiots from yourselves. Evie; you wanna stay for dinner? Ma is coming over and bringing apple pie and homemade ice cream.”
“That sounds amazing, Miss Lindsi, but I can’t, I’m sorry. My mom is doing something too, so I have to be home for that.” I look to Ben. “Wanna go for a walk?”
Ben turns to his mom. “Need me to help around here?”
She rolls her eyes and proves where her daughter got it. “You can go. But you’re on dishes later as payment. Be home by seven for dinner. Did you drive out here, Evie?”
I shake my head. “I walked. But I have to be back by seven, too. So Ben will be back by six-thirty or so to give me time to walk back into town.”
“I’ll drive you,” he murmurs. Taking my hand in a decidedly couples way, instead of a best friends way, he pulls me around so we face the front door. “No way are you walking home in the dark and snow. Back in a little while, Mom.”
“See ya, baby. Be good.”
He rolls his eyes and closes out the trio of Conners that can’t keep their eyeballs still.
Normally, we walk through the kitchen and out the back to head into the woods, but today, Ben leads me out through the front and helps load me into his beat-up truck. The feeling is like when you wake up and smell the bag of coffee beans first thing in the morning. Or like that first hug after you’ve been gone a long time. Sliding into Ben’s truck for the first time in months is like that greedy gulp of air when you break above the surface of water. It’s like coming home.
I slide to the middle seat and wait for him to climb in beside me. “Where are we going?” I fasten my belt and lean in annoyingly close, because I can’t stay away. I need to hug. It’s crucial to my survival the way breathing is.
“We’ll drive to the springs.” He starts the truck and wraps his arm around my shoulder the way I’m certain he wanted to do this morning. His right hand sits on my right shoulder, and the ring we made promises with sparkles in my peripherals and makes me fall a little deeper in love.
He didn’t know I was coming over, but he’s still wearing it. Just like he promised.
“Wanna take a dip?” I flash a wide grin. “It’ll be toasty warm.”
“Are you insane? It’s been snowing.”
“The air outside will be cold, but the water will feel like a hot bath.”
“You didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
I purse my lips and poke his ribs. “Have we ever worn a swimsuit? Ever?”
“Well… no. But the last time we swam in our underwear, I was still in the friendzone. I’d long ago locked those feelings away behind a padlocked door and knew if I touched, I’d probably die a painful death. But now I seem to have permission, and I’m not sure things will work out well if you’re wearing only your panties in front of me.”
“But it’ll be so warm,” I purr. “So toasty and warm. And I’ll need a hug to stay warm. You’d hate for me to get cold, right?”
“Evelyn…”
“Benjamin…?” I laugh. “Remember how I used to always run out with Bean and Mac and do dumb shit for the sake of sending you crazy?”
“Mm.” It’s lucky he already liked me, because not many guys would have stuck around in my attempt to escalate our trouble and gain his attention.
“Yeah. So maybe now I’m gonna do other things to test your limits.”
It only takes minutes to drive to our little spot and climb out of the truck. Ben is the perfect boy scout – always prepared – so he grabs towels from behind the bench seat and drapes them over his shoulder before slamming the door shut and turning to me with flattened lips.
We’ve been swimming out here so many times that he knows he needs to keep towels handy or risk pneumonia.
People have asked us so many times in the past where we’ve been. Why we were missing for hours at a time, and why are we wet. But though we’ve never actually made the pact to keep our place a secret, neither of us told.
Now we walk through snow knowing we’re about to get frostbite, but we move through the trees and barely slow when I slip on the ice. I’m not the kind of girl that’ll cry because I slipped and fell over. I slap my butt to dislodge the snow, then I continue on and laugh at my plans to make Ben slip at some point to even us out.
The forest today is utterly silent, the animals that happily chirp and frolic in the spring are hidden away to stay out of the cold. But the closer we move toward the spring, the louder the sound of running water gets in our ears.
The pool is pitch black inside. We’ve never been able to see the bottom, and neither of us have been
brave enough to dive under and look. But the fact that water runs, but the spring doesn’t overflow, means there must be tunnels hidden somewhere in the deep shadows.
Kind of terrifying in theory, but I refuse to focus on that and freak myself out. There are shelves, of a sort, that we used to sit on, and they’re the perfect height that, while sitting, the water comes up to my chin. Ben is taller, so his collarbone and up is always bare, but during the winter, he merely has to slump the way everybody slumps in a bath, to get the water higher.
We stand at the edge now and peer in. Still pitch black, but now it’s framed by thick snow and reflects our faces back off the surface.
“Evie, we don’t have to–”
I grab the hem of my shirt and tear it up before he talks us both out of this. It’s just swimming, something we’ve done a billion times before, but now, my bra looks like a bra, and not a sports bra. His blue eyes snap to my belly as though by compulsion. His hands fist and flex with want.
I hang my shirt from a low branch to keep it out of the snow, then I unbuckle my jeans and begin pushing them down to reveal matching panties.
“Fuckkkkk. Evie…”
“Stop overthinking this. You’ve seen me in a swimsuit.”
“Your swimsuit wasn’t lace. And they covered your whole ass.”
Bending to undo my boots, I peek over my shoulder and find him half bent and staring right at the lace. “These cover my ass. Stop being a prude.”
“I’m not…” He stands taller and clears his throat. “I’m not sure I’m strong enough for this. I can’t…” He casts his eyes to the sky when I get my boots off and my jeans all the way down. “I’ve been looking at you for a long time, Evie. Like, a really long time. And I wasn’t allowed to touch. But now you’re saying I can. It’s like… an addict, yeah? I’m an addict that has been strong enough to hold off. It was a flat-out no, so I was able to stay strong. But now you’re saying I get a day of going wild, and there won’t be any consequences. I can’t portion control when it comes to you. It’s all or nothing, and I’m gonna glut until I’m a fat fuck.”