“Really.”
“Yes,” I taunted right back into his blue eyes.
“Like this?”
I screamed as he dunked me under the water and pulled me back out again. I got in a few good punches to his side. He just laughed in my ear as he carried me to the side of the pool. Jess dumped me next to Natalie on the cement.
“You really should wear a suit. I can see through your shirt.”
“Then stop looking, jerk!”
Crossing my arms over my tank top, I turned to Natalie. She seemed bored, flicking her purple toes in the water.
“We still on for tonight?” Jess climbed up next to us on the side of the pool. “I lifted the keys this mornin’ to the Jeep.”
“You want to come with us?” I invited Natalie knowing she would say no.
“Where are you going?”
“We’re sneakin’ out drivin’ tonight,” he said in that syrupy voice. “Maybe out toward Nickel Creek.”
“That’s lame.”
Ignoring her stupid comment, he turned a sweet smile over to me. “I’ll be over ‘round eleven-thirty. Your dad should be asleep then, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” My stomach did a little flip flop at the prospect of sneaking out of the house. However, it was just too tempting not to go driving with Jess.
I heard the phone ring after dinner. My father answered, and I knew immediately from the tone of his voice, he was discussing something with Mrs. Mason. My body tensed up, hearing the phone click back in the cradle.
“Hey Pumpkin? You in the kitchen?” My father yelled from the living room. I’d just finished putting away the dishes in the cabinet.
“Yeah,” I said back a little hesitant.
He leaned against the door jam. “I just had an interesting discussion with Mrs. Mason.”
“Um, you did?”
“So I guess she looked at some of your sketches this afternoon.”
I didn’t see that one coming. I knew something flashed on her face as she looked through the pictures. Anger festered under my skin.
“Well, Mrs. Mason talked to a friend over in Fort Worth and found some fancy instructor who’d like to see some copies of your work. If he finds you promising, her words,” he chuckled, “this instructor would like you to come over two Saturdays a month to work one-on-one.”
You had to be kidding me! Her interceding involvement in our life would never stop. I’m sure this fancy instructor, who only took a student based on an audition, would be extremely expensive.
“Isn’t that exciting?” He smiled while the silent screams stayed inside my body
“No, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Are you sure?” His smile fell just a little. “If you’re worried about the money…Mrs. Mason said she’d handle the cost.”
Of course she would. I shook my head, knowing this couldn’t happen. We had to draw the line somewhere.
“Dad, I don’t want them paying for it.”
“But I want you have these kinds of opportunities. You’re good, Pumpkin. I’m proud of you.”
He always wanted the best for me and I didn’t want to crush my father. A snarl formed in my throat. He was going to guilt me into letting the Masons pay for it. Fine!
“Ok, I’ll do it,” I muttered. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. I wished I felt differently, but I just couldn’t.
After finishing in the kitchen, I went back to my room to wait for Jess. I pulled out my list, penciling in the new entry. Most of the columns were full on the front side. The large, blank backside waited for more of the inevitable charity that came from the family. I chewed on my bottom lip as I absorbed the magnitude of the debt. Shaking my head, I tucked the paper away in the drawer. No one had ever seen the list. I’m not sure how I would explain the columns of items if anyone every stumbled across the hidden paper.
Climbing under the covers, I pulled Carrot up next to my face. A deep purr vibrated through her entire orange body. She was my favorite present from that crazy boy. I thought about Jess coming by later. This wasn’t the first time we snuck out after dark. Sometimes, we took the four-wheeler to his thinking spot on the meadow.
After the tree house fire, Uncle Frank removed the charred boards. He cut down the tree, leaving just a smidge of its former glory overlooking the meadow. Jess carved our names into the stump as a reminder of the night we almost lost each other.
JESS + ALEX
The letters etched in time, forever. Jess loved the place before the fire and now it became a place he shared with me. His place became our place.
A light tapping sound pulled me from a foggy haze. The side table clock glowed a quarter until twelve. I stumbled from the bed over to the window and lifted the glass panel.
“Hey, you ready?” Jess whispered, the pink lips grinning in the moonlight.
“Yeah,” I mouthed the words. Jumping through the window, I followed his silent footsteps down the road to where he parked the Jeep just out of sight from the house. Jess wore a dark, navy shirt with his Wrangles that made his body blend in with the hot night.
We drove down the dirt road toward Nickel Bridge. On a Saturday night, the old metal contraption would be full of drunk, high school kids hanging off the rails, laughing and smoking. Their truck gates folded out like tailgate mini-bars.
Jess had the Jeep cruising about seventy-five down the dirt road. He weaved around another washed out hole in the ruts. I clenched the door brace tight in one hand and the bottom of the seat with the other. The Jeep skidded through a curve, making me scream.
“Hey sorry, I was just testing it out.”
His hand went up to the radio dial and flipped through some stations. The Jeep didn’t get many channels.
“I like that song,” I said, reaching over to stop him.
“I’m the one drivin’.” He swatted my fingers away, settling on a station with a George Strait song.
“I don’t want to listen to country all night.”
“Don’t be hatin’ on George. He’s just a guy with a guitar.”
“Exactly,” I snarled. Jess grinned back at me, singing along to the swaying words. I rolled my eyes. “You’re a dork.”
“It just feels wrong you know. A little like blasphemy, listenin’ to anythin’ else when you’re drivin’ out here with the dust kickin’ up and the wind on your face. Don’t you feel it?”
I gave him a whatever glance. Living in Arlis or even Texas made me feel conflicted. Some of those feelings came from my over-all attitude toward the Masons, but some of it came from my inner desire to know what else was out there.
I had a poster of Paris taped to the wall of my bedroom. A mesmerizing picture of the Eiffel Tower lit up at night with the city in full swing around it. Sometimes, I closed my eyes tight and imagined I was part of that world. I sat on the bench at the bottom of the photo, watching the beautiful and exotic place that always smelled like pastries. In this fictitious world of my poster, I was independent and self-reliant while the favors of others never existed. It was a dream that ended in reality when I opened my eyes. My beautiful picture hung on the wall of a house owned by someone else, in a town that never heard of petit fours.
Jess commented once on my print of the Eiffel Tower. You know there’s a Paris, Texas. I followed with a sharp whack to his arm.
Jess never mentioned his secret dreams for the future. The die-hard country boy would seem out of place in a city with a tower. I tried to picture his boyish grin all over the globe, but the puzzle piece only seemed to fit in one place: Sprayberry.
The Jeep bounced down the road as the hot air blasted me in the face. Watching the grass fly by, the moment lulled me into a sleepy trance. This was nice. Everything else faded into the distance, even George Strait and his pathetic love song.
“Stand up.”
Hearing his deep voice, I opened my eyes long enough to shake my head, no. He motioned again with his hand pointing up to the clear sky.