Swell (20 page)

“I have something to show you. Close your eyes!”

Jesse dutifully squeezed his eyes shut as I ran to the closet, grabbed the khaki jacket, and put it on.

“Okay, open!” I stood in front of Jesse, my arms out in a fashion model pose. A look of mock horror spread across his face.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You’re planning to do me in and pretend you’re me. That’s it! I knew it all along!” He got up and started tickling me. I tried not to laugh too loud, but it was impossible given that Jesse had found the spot along my side that was a deal-breaker. The cackling came in waves until he gave it a rest, but he did not let go of me.

We looked briefly at each other, me in his clutches and he looking down into my face. It was like the cover of a bad teen romance novel, two adolescent art nerds in khaki jackets holding each other.

“I feel like Fabio,” he said, turning the moment into a joke before releasing me.

I felt flush with excitement, and hoped that underneath the humor Jesse had really wanted that move to happen.

“You’ve got a long way to go.” It wasn’t the most kind comment, but I was playing into his schtick.

“Gee, thanks! I know I’m no Christian Rusch, but at least I bathe every day. And I use deodorant.” He smiled.

“Not everyone can be Christian.” I agreed with Jesse. Then again, not everyone could be Jesse Leary, either.

The evening ended with the completion of his end of the project, and at least the rough stages of a beginning for me. I would fix that the next day.

“Come to the car with me,” he said. I turned and saw my parents on the couch, and thought nothing of following Jesse to his little brown hatchback.

“I had a great time working on this project with you.” He loaded his gear into the back seat, shut the door, and faced me.

“I did, too. I wasn’t kidding when I said you rocked.”

“Well, that’s good. I need you to think I rock.”

“You do?”

He leaned against the car and put his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I do. It’s nice to have someone believe in me once in a while.”

I searched his eyes for more information about what he’d said, but before I could decipher them, Jesse grabbed and kissed me with a long, powerful embrace that took the wind out of my lungs.

Stepping back, I could only stare at him, my hand covering my lips from the shock and the thrill.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“That’s okay. I understand.” I sounded like a dork, but probably not as much as how Jesse was feeling like one for pulling that move. His rapid heartbeat showed on his sleeve when he dropped his keys and picked them up in two seconds flat. It was okay, really, that he’d kissed me. I think I wanted it to happen.

“See you tomorrow,” he replied, hurrying to start his car and put it into gear.

I waved as Jesse backed out of the driveway, and stood there as his car became two little red lights at the end of the street, and then disappeared.

Chapter 22

I approached my art class with more zest than I’d felt in a long time. The lighthearted happiness that flooded my insides even spread to Christian, who wasn’t the wiser about why. Even Jenna noticed the immediate difference in my aura.

“You look like you’ve been taking happy pills. What gives?”

“Things are just going well.”

“With Christian? Has anything really changed there?”

“No, it’s not about him.”

“Oh, really? Can I guess who this is about?”

“No, you may not, and no, it’s not about who you think it is.” But it was. After Jesse had gone home, I’d slept next to the khaki jacket, pretending he was still there making me laugh.

“You tell yourself a good story, Beck. Call me later.” She gave me a quick hug.

Before I entered Mr. Stanley’s class, I stopped by the bathroom to make sure I didn’t look scary and popped some gum into my mouth.

“Hey there!” said Jesse when I sat down next to him. There was no jerky to be found, only the usual standards of jacket, bracelet, and a smirk.

“Hey yourself. Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I thought of a thousand reasons, but the one I hoped for the most was that he couldn’t get his mind off of me.

“I don’t know… it was an interesting evening.”

He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “What would you say, Rebecca, if I was interested in doing something like that again?” I lost my concentration, and thankfully Mr. Stanley started talking before I had an answer.

I had a boyfriend. I had some pretty big problems. Now I had my mind on Jesse more often than not. He was a loner, an introvert with an extroverted mouth and a semblance of silliness that was irresistible. He was worlds apart from Christian’s circle. And damn it, I felt like I could be myself around him.

When Mr. Stanley finished his lecture, I took my part of the buddy project and started putting on the finishing touches. Being that Jesse was already done with his, he reached into his pocket for what I thought was a stick of jerky.

“If you pull out one of those smelly--” and then I saw that he was holding a pretty purple stone. It was smooth and rounded on top, flat on the bottom and the size of a quarter.

“I didn’t know rocks smelled. At least, I don’t think this one does.”
He put it on the desk in front of me.

I took the rock and tumbled it around in my hand, then held it up to the light to see its translucent clarity.

“It’s for you, Rebecca.”

“Nobody’s ever given me a stone before. Thank you.”

“It’s not just any stone. It’s a reminder stone. I’ve used it a lot to remind me to stick to being myself and my goals. I thought you’d like to have it.”

I felt touched that he thought of my needs, giving up his reminder stone to a girl he’d known only a few weeks. I slipped it into my pocket, and thought about the kiss we’d shared for the duration of the class.

/////

I was walking out with Jesse when Christian approached me. He eyed Jesse’s jacket with a questioning glance.

“Ready to go?”

I stood between the boys. “Christian, this is Jesse.”

“Your art buddy?” Christian took a step forward and sized him up. Jesse kept one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his books.

“Hey there, Christian. I’ve heard all about you,” he fibbed, extracting his hand and placing it out for a shake. Christian didn’t reciprocate.

“Same here,” said Christian, wrapping his arm around my waist and steering me away. The meeting was too curt for my taste.

“You could have been a little nicer,” I said while getting into Christian’s car.

“What do you want me to do? Give him a massage? He’s nothing more than a project partner. I’ve had tons of them.”

“Whatever.” I didn’t want to encourage a fruitless conversation.

“That’s right —
whatever
. I don’t like your buddy.”

“That’s your decision, Christian. Like it or not, he is what he is.” I crossed my arms as Christian let out a sigh and changed direction.

“Are you up to getting something to eat at Bill’s later?” Bill’s was the pre-party hangout for the popular crowd. Like weeds, the kids would take over the small burger joint and lounge around the tables making noise. I wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea of going.

“Can we just go for a walk at the harbor instead?”

He sighed and smiled at me. “If that makes you feel more comfortable… we can get something to eat down there.”

He gave me a quick kiss before dropping me off a block away from home. Even though my mom was the wiser about me and Christian, my dad still didn’t know anything, and I wasn’t about to give him any clues.

I took a meager dinner into my room and dumped the food into a trash bag before my escape. It was just a short walk around the corner to Christian, who planted a juicy kiss on my mouth.

“Here’s something for you.” He offered a sip off the wine bottle in his hand. I took a big swig, the now-familiar burn coating my throat and entering my bloodstream.

“To the harbor?” he asked. I nodded, and we sped away.

As we approached our destination, I thought I saw a dark car turning with every move we made. I held my breath and kept an eye on the side mirror until I saw the car turn onto a street just before we reached the parking lot.

Cool, damp air clung to my hair as Christian and I walked past the slumbering boats. The clinking of mast lines rang across hundreds of sailboats, calling to each other in the night. We were full with a cheap taco dinner and an even cheaper bottle of wine.

Christian wanted to buy ice cream, but when he went to pull his wallet, it wasn’t there.

“I left it in the car.”

“I’ll go get it,” I offered.

“I don’t want you out there alone.”

“Come on, it’s a public place,” I whined. “Give me your keys.”

It was just a simple trip to the car. He gave me a slight smile, as if he wasn’t too sure about me doing that.

“Come find me if I don’t return in five minutes,” I joked.

The moonless sky made the stars glitter high and bright above me as I walked to the Partymobile. I couldn’t help but sing my favorite childhood tune.

“Twinkle-twinkle little star…” Christian’s beast of an SUV stood out from the compacts that dotted the parking lot.

I fetched the wallet and turned to close the car door when I felt something touch my shoulder. A chill went up my spine, the gift of fear in my gut signaling that I was not alone. I moved Christian’s keys between my fingers like brass knuckles and turned around.

A dark silhouette stood in front of me, highlighted in the dimness of a flickering parking lot light.

“Beck,” the gravely voice whispered as the figure stepped toward me. The overpowering scent of cologne was just one of many indicators that this was Jeff Hillman. I backed against the Partymobile and held the keys in front of me, ready to strike.

“You’re not supposed to come near me.”

“I know, but I can’t help it. You
call
to me.” Another step forward and I felt his body heat against mine. Memories of being crushed under his weight flooded my mind and before I could react with my fistful of keys, Hillman had my arms up against the SUV.

His breath was hot on my neck as he ran his tongue down the side of my throat and back again. I couldn’t swallow or scream. The keys clattered in their descent to the asphalt.

I managed to eke out a sentence. “What… do you… want?”

Hillman’s tongue stopped its trail blazing. “I want you to like me. But you’re a stubborn girl. If you’d learned to like me before… before everything… it would be different now.” My legs flailed around his as he held me up.

“You’re making the wrong choice, Beck.” His hand slid down my arm and touched my throat with a delicate force. I was afraid he’d wrap it around my neck and hold me up that way, only to become a rag doll with no breath in its body.

Fake it. Fake it.

Without thought, my body switched into responsive mode and began lying to Hillman. My legs stopped moving and started snaking the backs of his thighs, pressing into them with every muscle like a python squeezing its prey. I allowed my face to move toward his, as if thirsting for a kiss. There were no thoughts, only protective actions.

“Hmmm. It’s never too late, Beck,” he said, loosening his hand from my throat and running it down my lower back, pushing his hips into mine. He bent his mouth toward my lips and with a powerful lock, kissed me. His tongue bristled at the back of my throat, and I tried not to gag or think about what was happening.

It could have been 20 seconds or two minutes, but for a time Hillman seemed convinced of my submission. Like a movie, I watched from a distance as our bodies became one against Christian’s car. When Hillman stopped to take a deep breath, his body separated from mine and I was free.

I ran like a lion was chasing me across the parking lot, toward the row of restaurants, down the sidewalk and the sleeping boats, looking for the ice cream shop. Christian was jogging toward me, alarmed that I hadn’t returned. I flew into his arms and sobbed, out of breath but not out of words.

“Hil… Hillman. He…”

“Hillman? At the car?” I gave a shaky nod, feeling Hillman’s ghost fingers on my throat.

“Go back to the store and
wait
.” He ran away at a lightning pace.

I sat on a stool under the fluorescent lights, my muscles quivering from the adrenaline rush. I shook from head to toe.

“Are you okay?” asked the girl behind the counter. I turned to face the brunette in a pink uniform, not much older than me and probably working her first job.

“Yes.” She smiled and went back to wiping down the counter.

I debated calling the police. I was told to call if Hillman talked to me. He’d done much more than that, and I should have called, but my hand stayed balled in a fist on top of my phone. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d snuck out and that I’d been drinking.