The Truth About Letting Go (13 page)

Colt’s truck is at the curb outside my house just after eleven. I hear the low noise of the engine, and instantly, I’m alert and out of bed, pulling on a denim mini to go with the black tank I’m wearing.

Mom’s been in her room since I got back from the creek, so I’m not worried about her catching me. My solitary dinner consisted of three bites of a cheese sandwich, and I’ve almost given up on ever having an appetite again. Still, I quickly brush my teeth before shoving my feet into tan Chucks and slipping out my bedroom door. After all our previous encounters, I’m pretty confident I’ll be making out with Colt at some point tonight. I slip a few peppermints into my pocket for backup.

Crickets are screeching loudly outside, and it’s a warm night. My skirt restricts my movements as I sprint across the lawn, and I wonder if I should’ve worn black pants instead. I have no idea what we’re doing. Colt’s waiting in a steel-grey modified pickup that’s so new it smells like fresh leather. I quickly jump inside and the door closes with a solid
fwomp
. He slides across the smooth seat and catches my neck, pulling my face to his for a kiss.

“I like the almost-spy outfit,” he says, releasing me. I stay close to him in the middle, and he rests his hand on my leg as we pull away from the curb. “Black tank and sexy mini. Nice.”

“Should I have worn pants?”

“No way, I like your legs.” His thumb slides over the bare skin of my inner thigh, and my pulse clicks higher. The weirdness of my day is left far behind.

We drive around the quiet neighborhood. Eleven o’clock on a Monday night, a school night, is guaranteed to be dead in Shadow Falls. Still, some of the houses are lit and the curtains are open. I look through the windows into the lives. I see couples standing in living rooms talking. Moms and Dads discussing business or work, maybe childcare or where they’ll take their next vacation. Scenes that never occur in my house anymore. The tightness clenches in my chest, and I slide across the middle closer to Colt. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I lay my head back on him.

“Where we headed?” I ask, kissing his neck.

“The nearest dark alley if you keep that up.”

Thinking of the cure for my pain, I almost suggest we do it now, but I’m curious about what he has in mind. I lift my head and straighten in the seat.

“What were you so excited about this morning?”

“Remember my text about toilet paper?”

I nod. “Toilet paper can be fun?”

“Look in the bed.”

I twist in my seat and see what looks like ten packages of tissue stacked in the back.

“We rolling a house?”

“We’re creating a geyser at school.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We use this to plug every toilet. Then tomorrow, the first person to flush, Kaboom! The whole sewage system goes up. It’ll be raining toilets.”

He laughs, but my eyebrows pull together. “Are you making that up?”

“No way. It’ll be epic.”

“It sounds disgusting. What else besides toilets will rain down?”

“Let’s hope the flusher didn’t have burritos for dinner.”

I sit back and cross my arms. “Not what I was expecting.”

“Oh really.” He reaches over and grabs my inner thigh again. “What did you want? To make a bong and get hammered?”

I shrug. “It’d be less work.”

“Lame. It’s not even illegal anymore.”

“It is here. And we’re underage.”

“I’m not.” He releases my leg and leans forward, digging under the seat. Out comes the white plastic flask. “Here. Take a shot of that.”

I twist the top off and drink a large, burning mouthful as my thoughts drift to last Sunday.

“So now you’re a criminal?” He says, watching me. “After you wouldn’t let me spike the grape juice at church?”

“You didn’t do it?”

“It’s no fun if you’re not with me.”

I smile at the implication, and either the vodka or his words bolster my confidence. He parks in the bushes at the back of the soccer field behind the school and pulls me onto his lap. I’m facing him, and for a moment we look straight into each others’ eyes, blue on green. His gaze is steady, and now mine is, too, even though my heart is racing and my breathing shallow.

His hand slides up my shoulder and behind my neck before he leans into me. I meet him halfway as our mouths crash together in a kiss that curls my toes. His hand at my waist slides under my tank, lightly holding my lower back.

My hands go to his cheeks, and my thumbs feel light stubble as they slide toward the place where his lips are moving against mine. His hand on my back starts to drift higher, lightly touching my skin and raising chill bumps as it travels upward. Fingers trace the outline of my bra, and I kiss him deeper, rising on my knees and sliding my hands to the back of his neck. His hands follow the line around, teasing the skin above and then below my bra, making my heart beat harder.

I break away to catch a breath, and he kisses my neck, my jaw, my chin, while my hands travel over and then under his shirt, my thumbs tracing the lines on his stomach. He groans and a charge races through me. There’s barely time to consider how far I’m ready to go right now. Breaking the seal, if it will hurt, if I trust Colt, Jordan…

His hands are tugging at the hem of my denim skirt, and I slide off his lap and back onto the passenger seat. My fingers go to my lips, and I study him from the other side of the cab. We’re both panting, and his eyes are dark. But he smiles and takes a breath, apparently willing to slow down a bit. “Okay. What was I saying?”

“Something about plugging toilets.”

He laughs. “It’s better in the execution than the description. Trust me. It’ll have an impact.”

“Can’t we do something that requires less manual labor?”

“I was trying to think of something that would be tame enough for you,” he says as his eyes move from my face to my legs.

“What makes you think I want tame? Besides, it’ll take too long. There’s got to be a hundred toilets in there.”

“More like forty eight. I counted today.” He gets out and goes around to the back, where he lifts out two long sticks and two cloth messenger bags, then he comes around to open my door. “All you do is drop in a roll, jam it in the hole, and go to the next one. Done.”

He’s standing outside the truck, holding our gear and waiting for me to get out, but my thoughts are on a few moments ago on his lap in his arms. Kill the pain. Maybe I am ready for the next step…

“I thought we might make out some more,” I say.

He grabs my waist and pulls me out of the truck and against him for a quick kiss. “We’ll be back, and I’ll be in your pants in under thirty. And bonus. No school until it’s fixed. We can take this show to my bedroom.”

His arm relaxes, and I’m standing beside the truck now surveying his gear. “Doesn’t the school have security cameras?”

“Tie your hair back.” He pulls out a dark windbreaker and a black eye-mask. “Put these on.”

I use the side mirror on the truck to pull my hair back into a loose pony tail and then slip the mask over my face. I look over my shoulder and he’s got one on as well.

One glance, and he slides up behind me, running his hands up the front of my thighs and stopping where they meet under my skirt. “We should keep these on when we get back,” he breathes against my neck before kissing it.

His body is hot behind me, and my knees almost give out. I straighten up and kiss him over my shoulder, letting his hands explore their location. It feels so good, and I haven’t been this pain-free since…

No. I push Jordan’s image from my mind.

“Let’s forget about the toilets,” I say, turning to face him.

His hands are on my bottom now and warmth is pulsing through me. I give him a quick kiss and then turn my back to him to climb onto the passenger’s seat.

I feel his hand on my back and smile, but he shoves me forward, pinning me on my stomach. He’s leaning against me, pressing hard on the back of my legs while he kisses my neck. I’m too short for this position. My face is rammed into the seat, and I’m having trouble breathing.

“Colt,” I struggle from where my face is buried in leather. The metal step side is pressing into my shins. “This isn’t working.”

But he doesn’t seem to hear me. He doesn’t let me up, and instead, he pushes my legs apart with his. Pain sears my bones as the metal scrapes across my shins. The good feeling’s gone, and now I’m afraid I’m bleeding.

“Colt!” I say louder. “Stop—it hurts!”

But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t answer as he grabs one arm and then my other, pulling them hard around my back and holding both my wrists in one hand. Pain shoots through my shoulders, and I try to struggle.

“Ow!” I yell. “Stop it—you’re hurting me!”

“Fight,” he breathes in my ear, and I can hear him smile. “Fight me.”

I try to stomp on his arches or throw back my head like they say to do in self-defense class. I’m hoping to hit his nose, but his hand grasps the front of my throat. He holds my head back against his shoulder, beside his face, and for a moment he squeezes. I can’t breathe until his grip relaxes.

“Breathe,” he whispers in my ear before pressing his mouth against it.

My heart is pounding, and I’m terrified. I’m also furious. I can’t believe he’s trying to rape me when I already said I wanted to make out. I fight against him more, but he isn’t removing my panties. His hand still holds my arms behind my back, and I’m pressed hard against his torso. I can hear his labored breathing, but he’s simply wrestling with me, holding me down, and kissing me as I struggle to get free.

I start to panic. I’m about to lose it when I finally manage to get an arm away. I grab the roll bar on the door and pull it while I kick back at the same time, hard as I can, landing a solid hit to his stomach. He lets me go and falls back with a grunt, sitting down on the step side.

I keep pulling until I’m inside the cab, and he’s watching me with those green eyes, grinning and holding his stomach. Both our masks are off.

“Good shot,” he says.

I’m shaking all over, and I hug my knees into my chest. I’m trying not to cry, sitting on the floor of the passenger’s side.

“What was that about?” I snap, unable to stop shaking.

“You said you didn’t want tame.”

“Take me home.” I put my forehead on my knees. I won’t cry. I refuse to cry.

“You’re not into the rough stuff?”

“I want to go home. Now.”

He stands and tries to reach for me, but I pull away.

“What about our prank?” he says.

“I don’t give a shit about your stupid prank. Take me home, or I’m walking.”

He doesn’t answer, and for a moment, the only sound is the constant
scree
of the crickets.

“You weren’t scared?” he has the nerve to sound concerned.

I don’t answer. He waits a moment longer. Finally, he exhales and picks up the sticks and the messenger bags, throwing them in the bed of the truck. He shuts my door and walks around to the other side. I take the opportunity to climb up onto the seat and quickly fasten my seatbelt.

I’m facing out the side window, my knees to the door, when he gets in. I don’t turn to look. Anger is surging through me. He starts the engine in silence and backs out of the bushes. We’re back on the highway when he finally breaks the silence.

“I thought you girls were all into that now, getting tied up and held down and all that S&M shit.”

I don’t answer. I just continue staring out the window.

“I know you love an adrenaline rush.” He tries to catch my eye, but I won’t look at him. “You didn’t think I was going to hurt you?”

“You held me down and wouldn’t let me go. Even when I said stop,” I snap. “How the hell do you think I felt?”

“Sexy? Excited? It was just a little wrestling.”

I straighten my leg in front of me and inspect my shin. It’s bruised but not bleeding. I can tell it’s going to turn all shades of red and purple.

“What about this?”

His lips press together, and he has the nerve to look uncomfortable. “I didn’t know that was happening. Next time, I’ll bring shin guards.”

“There’s not going to be a next time.”

We’re back at my house and I reach for the door, but he leans across and stops me. “Wait. Ashley, come on. You didn’t really think I wanted to hurt you?”

He slides closer and wraps his arms around me, over mine. My back’s pressed against the seat and my heart’s beating fast as he leans into my hair by my ear. “I thought you’d get off on it,” he whispers.

He kisses my neck. Then he kisses my jaw. As if by reflex, my body responds, but I’m still mad. His mouth covers mine, and he relaxes his hold on my arms. I’m free to get out now, to storm out of the truck and slam the door in his face, but I don’t. I open my mouth and let his tongue meet mine, but I don’t embrace him. I don’t pull away either. He kisses me one more time and then pulls back.

“We good?”

I don’t answer. Instead I turn and lift the door handle, slide out, and slam the door before running into my house. Into my dark, quiet house filled with sadness. I can still hear the truck engine idling out at the road after I go into my room and fall across my bed. I lie in the darkness and listen to him sitting at the curb for what seems like a long time before he finally drives away.

I curl into a ball and pull the blanket over me. I don’t know how I feel about what just happened, whether this is part of my new, rebel persona or something different. I don’t find an answer, and at some point, I finally fall asleep.

Chapter 11

Colt’s not at my locker the next morning, but Jordan’s there. I slow my pace as I approach, but he’s leaning with his back against the wall, holding his books at his side. I know he’s waiting for me. I study him dressed in one of the blue shirts I picked out for him, in the jeans that fit him exactly right, his dark hair just hitting the top of his collar, his bangs pushed to the side. I’m still trying to get over my late-night wrestling match with Colt, but one thing I know for sure, Jordan would never hold me down in a truck against my will.