It Was You (2 page)

Kyler's elbow pushes into my ribs, grabbing my attention. He's Jamison’s right hand man, so I knew he'd be here, but he's the main reason I didn't want to attend. I don't let him know that, I don't let anyone know that. I falsely show the world I'm madly in love with my boyfriend.

"Hey," I tell him with a hint of a smile.

He hands me a cup filled with foamy beer straight from the keg. I'm not a big fan of alcohol, mainly because I've watched my mom and Bruce drown themselves in it far too much, but once in a while I'll have a few sips. I've never been drunk in my life though, and quite frankly I never want to be. I've already been in the situation of not being able to control my actions multiple times, I don't need something like alcohol to make it worse.

"Thanks," I murmur, taking the cup.

Kyler clears his throat, keeping a shimmering white smile on his face, looking around at his peers instead of at me. He puts on a show better than anyone I've ever met. "You're actually drinking tonight, right?"

"Yeah, of course," I lie. It's easier to lie to him. I don't like to piss him off- I'll pay for it eventually.

Jamison makes his way over. "Ravyn Mae!" he says with a chuckle. I'm pretty sure he's already drunk. "You got a drink in your hand!"

I lift my brows up at Jamison, pretending to be as surprised as him. "Look at that, I do."

"Good, you need to let loose now and again." He slaps his hand onto my arm then shakes his other hand over Kyler's hair. "You two behave yourselves now, you hear."

"Yeah, man. I'll catch up with you in a bit," Kyler tells him. Jamison takes the hint, walking away to another crowd of people. In fact, it's the crowd Dawn is in. I wish I could grab her attention, tell her to come save me from Kyler's company, but she's been in love with Jamison for years, so all her attention is on him.

"I don't think he'll even make it another hour without falling down," Kyler states about Jamison.

I look up at him, wondering if he's had anything to drink. I could only wish he were drunk enough to be almost passed out, then I might actually enjoy myself tonight. "How long has he been drinking?"

"Since this morning."

"Have you drank anything?"

He glances over towards the truck that currently has three kegs placed on the back of it. "Two beers."

"Will you be drinking more?" I probably shouldn't ask but I don't stop myself.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I already said I was." I take a long sip from the cup just to prove a point.

Continuing to stare at me, he slowly nods his head up and down. "Yeah, I'll have a few more."

I smile at him and this time it's a real smile. Mainly because I think of him passed out in the field somewhere, getting shit on by crows or something.

A motorcycle roars as it pulls into the driveway. Kyler and I both glance over simultaneously, as do many others from the party. I don't recognize the guy pulling off the helmet. He looks sort of like Jamison, only older and with mounds of hair unlike Jamison who keeps his buzzed. Instead of being dressed in blue jeans and a polo shirt like Kyler and his buddies wear, he has on stained dark jeans and a tight black tee. My face warms up looking at him.

He places his helmet under his armpit before making his way towards the house, glancing over to the crowded field before entering the home. He doesn't look too impressed by all the company.

"Who is... that?" I ask Kyler.

"Jamison’s brother, Jaron."

"Oh. I didn't know he had a brother."

"Half-brother," he adds in. I can hear the disgust in his voice. Apparently he doesn't like Jamison’s half-brother. "He's a few years older, and only here for the summer."

"Gotcha."

"And he's bad news."

My concentration falls back onto Kyler, who is staring at me with concern.

"Looks it," I say, trying to make it sound like there is no way someone who looks like Jaron would interest me. Bringing the red cup back to my lips, I look over to where Dawn is ogling Jamison. Without saying a word to Kyler, I make my way towards her. He pulls on my arm, bringing his lips to my ear. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice is harsh but I can sense he has a smile on his face- making sure everyone at the party is thinking only wonderful thoughts about him.

"Over to Dawn." I pull my arm away from his grip, knowing he won't do anything to stop me. However, I'll likely pay for it later. It embarrasses him when I'm not obedient to him, but sometimes it's hard to pretend, even knowing the consequences.

When I reach the crowd that Dawn is in, she grabs my hand and pulls me away from everyone. "I started my freaking period," she bites out with annoyance. "I shouldn't start until next week. This blows."

"Better early than late, right?" I question. I mean, with all the sex I know she's had- although, she always says she uses protection- I'd rather be early than late.

She lets out a groan. "Sure, I guess. I was just really hoping tonight would be the night I could score with Jamison."

"Ew, really?"

"Uh, yeah. You've seen him, Ravyn. He's totally gorgeous and you know it."

Ignoring her remark, because yeah I know he's cute, I tell her, "Well, he's drunk, so he probably won't even notice."

"Gross." I can see her think about it though. Even though I was completely kidding, it wouldn't surprise me if she did. "Well whatever. You're drinking I see." She peeks down in my cup that is still mainly full.

Our one on one conversation was short lived as the two of us make our way back over towards the crowd. I feel Kyler's eyes burning into me, frustrated with me not being shoved up his ass, but I ignore him completely. It won't be much longer until I'm far from here, far from him, and finally free.

Three drinks in I feel overly buzzed. I hadn't realized how fast all my small sips went. More people have joined the party, the music has gotten louder, and quite a few parked cars now have couples inside steaming up their windows. I've barely seen Kyler, thankfully, and each time I had he had a drink pressed to his mouth. So I'm sure he is off drunk somewhere.

Making my way over to the outhouse, I can tell it's going to be a while with the line of other females. To be a guy when you're outside and have to use the bathroom would definitely be nice. Peeking over to the house, I notice all the lights are off. Maybe I can sneak in without anyone noticing.

The front door is unlocked. I creak open the door and look around. No one is in sight. Using my cellphone, I light my way down the hall, hoping I find the right room without walking in on his dad or something. The last door down the hallway is opened and when I shine my phone in, I notice the empty porcelain goddess sitting there, ready for me to use.

Hurrying I close the door and turn on the light, sighing relief. I didn't realize I was holding my breath while I searched for the toilet. Once I use it and wash my hands, I look in the mirror and realize that my face and neck are blotchy. I really did drink too much tonight. I should have given up after the second glass. The worst part is that I actually
want
more to drink. My mind and body feel loose and free, something I'm definitely not used to.

Taking a wash cloth from the shelf above the sink, I run some cool water on it and pat the back of my neck, cooling my skin off. I wasn't hot outside but now all of a sudden I'm sweating. Taking a sip of water from the faucet first, I turn off the water, and hit the light switch before opening the bathroom door.

A loud gasp leaves my mouth the same time a hand presses itself against my lips. "Shh," the older version of Jamison tells me. With the small glow of a bedroom light, I can see his eyes, which are warning me to listen- and I've learned a long while ago to obey the opposite sex.

I nod slowly against his hand. He lets it drop to his side while he slowly shakes his head back and forth. His face shows a bit of amusement but more than that, it shows annoyance. I shouldn't have come inside- I had completely forgotten that Jamison had an older half-brother that showed up earlier on the motorcycle. He is no longer in his tight jeans and tee-shirt, instead he's wearing a beater and pair of green basketball shorts.

"Sorry," I whisper quickly.

"Just get out before Dad wakes up. Jamison should have told you."

I bite on my lip nervously, wondering what will happen if I do wake up his dad. That is the last thing I want. I may be leaving town in a few short months but I don't need to make a disaster of things beforehand.

"I will," I tell him. Sliding past him quickly, I tip toe through the mostly darkened hallway.

A pull on my arm jumps me from my skin. It takes all my effort not to yelp. Turning, I give Jamison’s brother a wide eyed look of confusion. He is staring at something on my arm. "Hold on, come here," he orders silently.

My mind tells me not to listen but somehow my feet follow him- not that I have much of a choice as he pulls on my arm. He pulls me back into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly and turning the switch back on. He twists my arm to get a better look at whatever it is.

"You have a tick on you," he mentions.

I look down and immediately get the shivers all over. "Gross," I whine. I have never had a tick attach to me before, but I've heard bad things about it happening.

"Just sit on the toilet seat, I'll get the tweezers."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I question, while still listening to him. Closing the lid, I settle on the seat and watch as he digs through the cabinet for a pair of tweezers. I can feel the tiny bug moving under my skin and it takes a lot of willpower not to claw at it. I know that if I try it could end up with a worse result.

He glances over at me like I'm some kind of idiot. "Yes, I know what I'm doing. Now sit still and be quiet."

Instead of watching him, I look around the small bathroom. You can tell the home has only males in it- there is not one ounce of decor anywhere, unless you count the all-white shower curtain covered in brown residue.

"I'm going to put some antibiotic ointment on it first, then pull it out. Don't squirm."

I nod my head to answer him, then look away as I feel him touch my skin. His hand is warm against my arm, unlike his voice which seems calloused and annoyed. I guess there is no surprise they have the same genes- he has the same arrogance as his brother.

My eyes fill with black spots the same time my head becomes light. With a twirl of color, I feel a pulsating burn against my scalp, then... nothing.

The bed squeaks as someone sits on it. I open my eyes, blinking at the fluorescent light blinding me. A cool wet cloth is pressed against my forehead. Glancing over I see swirls of green and brown looking down at me curiously. I hadn't realized the color of his eyes until now, but they're... beautiful.

"What happened?" I ask. When I speak I can feel a sharp pain behind my ear. Bringing my fingers up to it, I notice there is a bandage behind it.

I'm met with a crooked smile. "You fainted."

"What?" I go to sit up but he pushes me back down on the mattress. I'm trying to remember what Kyler told me his name was, but I can't for the life of me remember.

"Lay down for a few minutes, you'll be fine."

Listening, I look around his room that is just as bare as the bathroom. Not even a poster on the walls. "How long have you been here?" I ask, knowing well it isn't any of my business. I'm not usually the curious type but something about him intrigues me. Maybe it's the fact that he looks as distant and obsolete as I feel.

"You've only been out for maybe three or four minutes."

His response makes me smile a little. "No, I meant in Arlington. I haven't seen you before."

He glances away and sighs. Something brought him here and now I'm curious about that as well. "Almost two weeks now."

"You sticking around?"

"Not for long." His voice becomes monotone. I can tell he dislikes it here. I don’t blame him.

I continue to look around. He has a few suitcases pushed against the wall, one of them open with a pile of clothes thrown about. There is one dresser in the room, which holds an old box television and some kind of game console. Aside from that, there isn't much that would show that anyone has been here at all.

I'm not sure why I feel the need to tell him, but I blurt out my name. "I'm Ravyn, by the way. Ravyn Graham."

He brings his focus back towards me with that same crooked smile he gave me a few moments ago. "Jaron."

As soon as he says his name I remember Kyler telling me that. "Where are you from?" I ask this time. I want to know more about him for some strange reason.

"Here, there, all over. My mom wasn't the kind of person that stuck in the same place for long. Most recently I lived in Detroit."

"I would love that. Traveling the country like that."

"No you wouldn't," he immediately admits. "It sucks."

"Better than being stuck here." I shouldn't have said that out loud. Then again, it's not like anyone believes that I love being in this town anyways. The only difference is no one asks me
why
I hate living here so much- I don't need him digging into my life business, so I need to stop digging into his.

Instead of questioning me further, like I had assumed he would, he instead pulls the washcloth from my face. "Feel better? Going to pass out again?"

"I don't think so," I tell him bashfully.

He helps me sit up slowly, like I'm some kind of child. It surprises me how much he seems to care about someone he doesn't even know. Maybe he isn't much like his brother as I originally believed. "Okay, well then you should probably head back out to Kyler. He's probably wondering where you disappeared to."

I can't help the bitter laugh that escapes. "Yeah, imagine that."

"Just a flavor of the week?"

"Excuse me?" My face turns red, I'm just not sure if with embarrassment or anger. "I'm not some kind of whore."

"Didn't call you one." Standing from the bed, Jaron walks over to his game console and turns it on, then grabs the remote before he takes a seat on the bed.

I stand from it immediately, staring at this guy, waiting for him to say something more. To explain himself further. All of a sudden I'm not of importance to him. "What does that mean then?" I ask after a few minutes of silence, raising my voice a little louder than I should with his father right down the hall.

He glances up at me nonchalant. "I don't know you, I don't know how many guys you've been with. I didn’t call you a whore, and if you were one, it isn't my business."

Jaron glances back at the TV, moving buttons on his controller. I feel myself fill with more frenzy for some God forsaken reason. This guy... he has a way of getting under my skin, and I don't even know him. "Well I'm not," I bark out.

"Good for you." He still doesn't look at me. I am of zero importance in his life.

After a few minutes of staring, I throw the washcloth down to the ground in front of him and storm towards the door, not caring if I'm being loud or not. "You're right, it's not your business!" Opening the door, I slam it behind me and march towards the front of the house.

When I make my way back to the field Dawn is standing near a truck with Jaella, dancing to some country hip-hop crossover song. "Ravyn!" She yells when she spots me. Her arms go in the air while she sways her hips back and forth. "Come dance with me."

"No, I'm fine," I tell her. I make my way towards the same truck but instead of joining her in her dance, I settle on the tailgate and watch.

A small sting of jealously hits me that I don't get to let loose and have that kind of fun like they all do. It's not that I haven't ever wanted to have fun, but I don't want to pay the consequences. It's not even often that I'm able to spend the night out places, except for Dawn's once in a blue moon. It hurts that I didn't get to have the high school experience you're supposed to be embarrassed to tell your kids about, the kind that you laugh at in twenty years with your friends. The friends you made in high school because you were in the same sports or clubs together. The only clubs I was in all four years was student council, and that was only so I could take time away from my life.

Hopping down from the truck I make my way towards Dawn's car. It's always unlocked, mainly because she never has anything of significance in there. I climb into the back seat and lay down. My eyes fill with unshed tears as I think about how horribly lonely my life truly is. I don't feel sorry for myself very often- and I shouldn't. I've been looking forward to graduation for the last three years, when
he
hurt me for the first time. Now I'm here, ready to spread my wings and fly- the reason my dad wanted to name me Ravyn- so the last thing I need to be feeling is pity. Unfortunately, it's not something I can control- and I blame the booze.

*--*--*

"What the hell are you doing?"

The voice scares me but I don't open my eyes, I don't jolt, nothing. Instead I lay here as if it didn't wake me, as if I were still sleeping peacefully, that way maybe he'll leave.

Except when he speaks again, I realize it wasn't the voice I was expecting. "Ravyn, wake the fuck up."

Cracking open a lid, I realize I'm still in Dawn's car. When I sit up to look out into the field, I see there is still embers blazing from the fire in the distance, and the sun actually looks ready to make its way into the sky. I must have passed out for a few hours. Looking behind me, Jaron is leaning into the backseat of the car, watching me curiously. "What are you doing in here?"

"I don't know, I fell asleep I guess."

"Come on."

"What? Where?"

He stands back, opening the door wider. He's fully dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans but this time with a white pocketed tee-shirt. I have a feeling he doesn't have much of a wardrobe. I slide from the car, realizing I have to pee anyways, so maybe it was good I woke up now.

I haven't the first clue where Dawn is- probably in one of the many tents in the field. I'm not sure how they got all those tents up while intoxicated, but they seemed to have managed. Others did as I did and slept in a car, and a few still remain awake, sitting by the fire with drinks or cigarettes.

"You can sleep in my room," Jaron tells me.

"No, I really can't." Pulling my phone from my pocket, I realize it's only five thirty in the morning. I should probably get home before too long.

He questions me with his eyes. "I am leaving for work, so I won't be in there with you..." he drags on the words, questioning if that is my reason behind why I can't sleep in his bed.

Rubbing the dreariness from my eyes, I realize that I had makeup on. I had completely forgotten about it. I probably look like some kind of raccoon with mused hair. Again humiliating myself in front of Jaron.

"Thanks, I just have to get home," I tell him. "First, I need to find Dawn." I pull myself from the vehicle, cracking my back as I stand. My body hurts from the cramped back seat.

Jaron stares at me with a hint of amusement, this time without the annoyed look in his eyes. I'm sure my smudged makeup is humoring him. "Stop looking at me," I tell him.

"It's harder than one may imagine."

"Gross." My remark causes him to chuckle softly. "Well, thanks for waking me. I need to go find my friend."

As I start to head towards the field to find Dawn, Jaron stops me with an offer home. "If you're not scared of motorcycles, I don't mind bringing you home before I head into work."

I debate on it a moment. I really shouldn't be seen riding on the back of another guy's motorcycle, but it is a ride home- and it also means that I don't have to go tent to tent trying to find Dawn nor Kyler. "Where do you work?" I ask instead of answering his question.

"McDube's." Which I already know is one of the largest farms in Fort Calhoun, a town that is a half hour away from us. He rides his motorcycle to a farm each morning to be there for six. Seems... strange to say the least.

I slowly nod my head, looking over at his bike which is matte black and chrome. The words Honda printed onto it. It's beautiful, that much is for certain, I'm just not sure I dare to ride on it. Not because I'm afraid of dying, but I'm afraid of the penalties.

In some strange alternative universe, the idea of being caught actually starts to thrill me. Not because I enjoy what Kyler does when I disappoint him, but to prove a point. That I
can
do better than him- unlike the thousands of times he's told me I can't.

Without a second thought, I blurt out the words, "Sure, I'll take the ride."

Grabbing his helmet, he passes it over to me. "Where do you live?"

"Christensen Park." It's an infamous trailer park in town. I'm not embarrassed about living in a trailer park, I'm more humiliated about which mobile home is mine. I won't let him bring me to my driveway anyways, so it doesn't matter right now.

I stare at the bike once more as he straddles it. "I can just walk," I decide out loud. It looks bigger when I'm up close and my heart is pounding a way I don't think it ever has before.

He shakes his head at me, not allowing me to back out of this. "Get on the damn bike. I've been driving this baby for three years and haven't had one accident."

Taking a deep breath of encouragement, I slide the helmet over my head, exhaling the burning air in my lungs. Throwing a leg over, I straddle the bike behind Jaron. Once I have the strap locked into place, I tell him I'm ready to go, although my mind is telling me there is no way in hell I should be riding on this.

"Put your hands here." Jaron adjusts my hands, making sure I hold onto his waist securely. He smells of spice, outdoors, and pure masculinity. It relaxes me almost immediately. That is, until the bike revs to life. I squeeze a little harder, and I assume by the shake of his stomach that it causes him to laugh.

Before I know it, we're zipping down the road, the trees blurring past us. It feels freeing. Unfortunately the ride is over far too soon, and we're pulling onto the dirt of Christensen Park. He slows down to ask which is mine. I yell, "This is fine right here."

He pulls off to the side, cutting the engine as he parks it. Leaning to the left, he puts his foot down and allows me to get off the bike. I climb off and strip the helmet from my head, handing it to him. "Thanks," I tell him.

"Which one is yours?" he asks again.

"It's down towards the end," I lie. I don't want him to know which one.

"What, will you be grounded for riding a motorcycle?" He breaks into a smile at that thought. He’s playful, I can already tell. He’s also easily amused- I’m not sure if by me or in general.

Narrowing my eyes, I decide to amuse him. "Something like that. Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

Before the conversation can turn into anything more, I turn on my heels and start walking away. The engine revs behind me and not even a moment later I hear the rocks spit up as he turns the bike, then the sound disappears in the distance. I can't stop smiling ear to ear as I walk down the road, thinking about meeting someone like Jaron; someone that doesn't immediately repulse me, someone that is a bit cocky without being an asshole.

That smile immediately fades when I spot the rusted maroon truck sitting in my driveway.