One Lonely Degree (23 page)

“Both,” Jersy replies.

Everyone else starts to answer at the same time, and Mr. Mikulski takes a count. “Give me a hand, Jersy,” he calls.

Jersy glances expectantly over at me, his body submerged below the neck. He dips his chin into the water and then pulls the rest of his head under with it. When he comes up ten seconds later, his eyes find me and then veer swiftly away.

I watch him pull himself out of the pool. He makes it look so effortless that I almost believe he has superpowers. He grins when he catches me looking. He knows. I know he knows, and I should feel worse than I do.

But I don’t. And that’s all. After two minutes I climb out of the pool and go after him. He’s handing over the burgers and sausages to his father, and his eyes hang on me as he says, “Are you taking a break?”

“Yeah.” We move away from the barbecue. My swimsuit’s sticking to me, keeping me cool in the sun, and Jersy keeps staring at my shoulders.

“It’s really warm out here today,” he says, stealing a look at my face. “You want to go inside for a while?”

“Sure.” The fact is, I can’t get there fast enough.

We go down to the basement together and sit on the couch, soaking wet because neither of us thought to bring a towel. The door’s ajar because it has to be, and drops are rolling off my hair and down my back, making me shiver now that we’re in the air-conditioning. “Won’t your mom be upset about the couch?” I ask, tucking my hair back behind my ears.

“It’s not the good couch,” he explains. “They always sit upstairs.”

When I glance down, I see cleavage. My belly button’s peeking out from the bottom of the tankini, and my bottoms are bikini briefs. There’s nothing to cover myself up with and my heart’s speeding, but it feels good.

I want to tell Jersy to touch me. I want to lean over and press
my wet self against him. If we keep sitting here staring at each other with hungry eyes, I’ll die.

“Jersy,” I say, my lungs collapsing.

His eyes take me in, but he doesn’t answer. He puts one hand on my knee and curves the other around my shoulder. His fingers coast slowly up my neck. I want to scream at him and make him hurry. I want to take his hands and put them other places, but this is too sweet to rush. He nestles his face into my neck and licks at it like I’m sugarcoated.

I melt next to him on the couch. It sounds corny and stupid, but I do. This is what people mean when they say something “just happened.” It’s not that you couldn’t stop yourself if you tried; it’s just that you’re all wrapped up in something that feels too good to be true, better than you even would’ve let yourself imagine.

I pull away from him, and his face sinks like he’s done something wrong. Then I’m pressing my lips against his, tasting his tongue and winding my hand around the back of his head. His hair’s so short that my palm itches. One of his fingers works its way into my belly button, making me giggle. He spreads his hands possessively around my bare waist and drops his head to study my skin.

When our eyes meet, he kisses me fiercely on the mouth, twisting a hand into my hair. I don’t want to think about the last time someone touched me like this. Jersy isn’t anything like Adam. I can stop this anytime. I break away to prove it, and Jersy hunches over, cups his hand around the back of his neck, and says, “I know. It’s Audrey.”

I nod at him, burning all over. I’ve pushed Audrey to the back of my mind, but I haven’t forgotten. I don’t have any excuses for myself. My nod’s a lie. It’s Adam and the way he changed me that’s holding me back. Maybe I trust Jersy but I don’t trust myself. I
don’t know how long this good feeling will last. It could mutate any second now.

“I slapped this guy at work in the face yesterday.” I swallow hard and look away. I never meant to tell him this. “I thought he was trying something, but now I’m not sure.” I hate the way my swimsuit feels on my skin suddenly, cold and stale.

Jersy’s arms are folded over his knees. He looks up at me, his hand reaching up to cradle his face. I could stop talking and lay my hands flat against his chest. It’d be easier than talking.

“I get nervous sometimes. I don’t mean with you.” I’m shivering again. My hands grip my knees. “Do you remember how you asked about Adam Porter?”

Jersy’s head snaps up. His eyes are wary and he nods slowly.

“He tried to do something to me.” My teeth are chattering. I never should’ve started this. It’s too big to say. “At a party last fall.”

Jersy’s face is grim. He wants me to be a normal girl, like Audrey; he doesn’t want to deal with this shit. “It’s not Audrey, is it?” he says quietly. “It’s this.”

“Yeah.” The word slashes. It’s like that night with Adam just happened.

“Why didn’t you let me smash his stupid fucking face in?” he asks. He’s angry, but I think I hear helplessness too.

That makes me sadder still, and I shake my head and hide my eyes in my hands. My arms shake but I won’t let go. I’m silent as a stone.

Jersy doesn’t touch me. He’s probably afraid to now. I could slap him in the face or think bad things about him.

When I look up, he’s staring at the wall, stroking his scar. “Does anybody know?” he asks. “Your parents?”

“No,” I whisper. “Just Audrey.”

“And she’s not here,” he says to himself. He turns towards me,
looks into my eyes, and brushes his hand against mine. “The guy at work. What happened?”

I tell him what I remember. I don’t even care what he thinks anymore. I just need to tell somebody, like when my dad left. “I don’t think he’s going to be a problem anymore,” I confide, wrapping my arms tightly across my belly to fight the cold.

Jersy slides his arm protectively around my shoulders. “Do you want me to get your clothes?” His skin feels as warm as sunlight. “A towel?” he suggests. “A sweatshirt?” It’s as though he has to get something for me, do something.

“I’ll get my clothes in a minute,” I tell him.

“Okay.” He squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. Nothing sexual’s going to happen anymore. He’s my second best friend again. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought it was okay.”

“I thought so too,” I say truthfully. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he says quickly. “That’s okay.” He stares straight ahead. “I just thought it was about Audrey.”

“It should be that too.” I’m like a truth machine. I can’t help it. “I miss her so much, and then I go and do this.” I peer into his eyes. “I’m here and she isn’t. That’s the only reason this happened, isn’t it?”

“No. That’s not the reason.” Jersy frowns and lifts his arm off my shoulders. “I liked you first. Before Audrey.” His eyes shine as they stare steadily back at me. “You acted like you weren’t interested. I let it go.”

That’s not how it was. The truth is that I’m damaged. I don’t know how to be with anyone.

“It’s okay,” Jersy says, sympathy in his eyes. He folds his arms slowly around me and holds me gently, like he’s afraid I might shatter. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. I’m not sure what he’s sorry about, but it
doesn’t make any difference. I hold my breath and think of Audrey missing him from three hundred miles away. This is finished before it started. It has to be. I’m not afraid of Jersy; I’m the problem. I’m burning up, even as I shiver. I’m thinking about him and me and how it’d be. He’s the most Beautiful Boy I’ve ever seen, and the image keeps flashing inside my head, making me crazy. “I’m all right,” I add. “I should get my clothes.”

I draw away from him and look at his chest and arms, golden brown. Except for his underarms he’s nearly as hairless as me. His blue-green eyes are so pretty that my chest aches, and when he curled his hands around my waist a few minutes ago, I wondered where he’d put them next.

My brain goes wild, looking and remembering and imagining.

If I don’t stop soon I’ll go blind.

I T
a
LK TO
Audrey for about forty-five minutes. She’s super supportive about the Kevin incident, but neither of us mentions Jersy When my voice gets hoarse, she thinks it’s because of Kevin, and I let her. She says she dreamt about her and me walking past the St. Mark’s track field together. We were laughing so hard she thought she’d wet her pants, and when she woke up she couldn’t remember what was so funny—just that we were happy.

When we hang up, I feel like Judas. How is it possible to feel so close to someone and lie to her?

I’m still thinking about that when I get into bed, but the next morning at Play Country my brain latches back on to Kevin. We pass each other in silence all day long, and without Nishani to distract me the hours drag on endlessly. I’m a bundle of nerves, guilt, and terrible customer service skills. I jump when someone asks me a question and take too long to answer.

Then, when my shift’s finally over, I run right smack into
Kevin outside the staff room. He averts his eyes like I’m some kind of leper and mutters, “I didn’t see you.”

“Me neither,” I tell him. “Sorry.”

“Yeah.” Kevin holds up his hands like I’m about to steal his wallet. “Whatever. Just don’t get excited.”

“Whatever,” I repeat, walking calmly by him like I don’t give a shit what he does as long as he stays out of my way.

And he does. He’s quiet around me for the entire week. The couple of times we’re forced to communicate are awkward, but we survive. He doesn’t stand too close to me and breathe into my face, and I don’t smack him and call him a pervert. Courtney says there’s a rumor going around that we hooked up. In one scenario I dumped him. In the other we’re stupid-crazy for each other like one of those soap opera couples who act like they hate each other.

“I can’t believe people would think that,” I tell her.

“Oh, I know,” Courtney chimes. “I don’t think most people do. It’s just something to talk about. Like when Suzanne and Gerald have an extended meeting in his office and people say they got stuck in a sexual position they couldn’t get out of.”

I’ve joked about that too. It’s hard not to. Play Country isn’t what you’d call intellectually scintillating. Our undernourished brains need some kind of stimulation.

Nishani and I make another movie date, and while we’re there she asks me about Kevin too. Aneeka’s on a secret date with some Jamaican guy her parents would never approve of, so it’s just the two of us, and for a second I consider telling her the whole truth. “You remember that day we had a fight?” I begin.

Nishani nods and stuffs her face with popcorn, and I want to say it, I really do, but I haven’t known her long enough to get that personal. “Well, I freaked out on him for getting in my face all the time—you know how he does that.” Nishani nods keenly. She sees
it every day too. Everyone knows what he’s like. “And now he won’t talk to me, which is fine by me.”

Nishani opens her mouth, but I cut her off. “Can I trust you?” I continue. “If I tell you something, will you keep it between us?” My heart’s racing like it was that night with Jersy. I thought telling him would be enough. Now I feel the words chafing against the back of my throat, begging to be set free.

“You can trust me.” Her coal-black eyes zoom in on mine. “I won’t tell anyone.”

It’s exactly what I expect her to say, and the words are already forcing themselves out. “I slapped Kevin in the face.” I tap my fingers nervously against my watch. “I thought he was going to try to kiss me in the stockroom. His face was like this.” I hold my hand up in front of my face to demonstrate. “At the time I really thought he was going to do it. I didn’t mean to hit him. It was like an automatic reaction.” Nishani’s listening intently, waiting for me to get it all out. “But right afterwards I wasn’t sure anymore. It was like he was as shocked as I was, and he asked me why I’d hit him and said it was assault.”

Nishani tilts her head thoughtfully. “You must’ve been really angry,” she says, “to react like that. Maybe it’ll make him think twice next time.”

She’s right, and most of me is glad I did it because what would Kevin have gone and done if I hadn’t? “Maybe.” I scratch my arms. They’re still peeling from the barbecue. I forgot to put on more sunscreen when Jersy and I went back into the pool; I wasn’t thinking straight. “I just can’t tell if I overreacted or what.” I wish there was some way to know for sure.

Nishani reaches down and sets her popcorn on the floor. “He’s creepy. I probably would’ve done the same thing.” She folds her hands in her laps and adds, “Aneeka kicked someone in the balls
once. This guy on the beach kept bugging her. He was like thirty or something; it was disgusting. He grabbed her ass, and she kicked him right in the nuts. He was practically crying.”

I can totally see her doing that. I bet she doesn’t take shit from anyone. “That’s cool,” I say. “What an asshole.”

“They’re everywhere.” Nishani nods as if to say it’s the same thing with Kevin and me. I’m not sure it’s as black and white as that, but the important thing is that I have to be positive; being the regular me isn’t doing any good.

Nishani’s dad picks us up at the end of the movie, and when I walk through my front door Samsam jumps on me like I’ve been gone a week. Mom’s still up, haunting the kitchen in her silk pajamas, and my heart leaps. She’s only gone to bed at eight once so far this week.