“Jess…” I whispered, feeling my skin burn in a way that only he could make happen.
He let out a deep breath. “I know, I’m not supposed to say that stuff. I just wish summer was over. I miss…seeing you.”
“I know.” I swallowed hard. “Goodnight, Jess.”
“Ok…I’ll let you go. Night, Alex.”
We stayed on the phone a good minute, listening to each other breathe until I finally hung up. The pounding in my chest vibrated in my ears, thanks to the alcohol. In the hazy buzz, I pictured his sweet face and blue eyes, and those pink lips that felt so good when he kissed me. I whispered out loud in the dark, empty room what I couldn’t say to him on the phone.
“I miss you too.”
Chapter 30
When I was nineteen…
I sat at the pool, watching Dutch pretend to monitor the kids. He took another swing out of a flask then grinned at me. After we returned to Rochellas, Dutch and I had resumed as flirting friends, but things were different. Guilt ate into every free moment, making it all feel terribly wrong. I remained confused about the past and what to do about the future. It lurked around every turn of the shadowy woods. Once again Jess was not here; yet he was everywhere, haunting my resolved to set him free.
The gate banged closed, catching my attention. I slipped off my sunglasses seeing Franny from the main office. “Hey, some guy named Jess called for directions off the highway. He was at the main turnoff. Should be here in like ten minutes.”
I jumped out of my chair, knocking my sunglasses in the pool. No! Oh, crap, no! A violent attack of nausea kicked in my stomach.
“Who’s Jess?” Dutch asked from his chair.
I struggled to get the flimsy cover over my suit. “He’s um.” I couldn’t even get my flip flops on my feet. “He’s…someone from high school. We grew up together.”
“You’re from Abilene, right?”
“No, Arlis. Um, I’ve gotta go.”
I sprinted out the gate toward the parking lot. Why did I call Jess! Stupid, stupid, drunk, idiotic, phone call summed this visit to Rochellas. This was bad in so many ways.
I was out of breath and panting as I watched his white truck pull into the parking lot. Maybe I could tell him I’m too sick for visitors and then throw up in front of him. It wouldn’t take much; the nausea was about to choke me. He parked in an empty spot. I gritted my fingers into my palms. The tattoo! I wrapped the towel around my wrist, just as he climbed out of the truck.
Jess smiled, and I felt a quick stab of pain in my chest. He looked good. Jess always got darker in the summer and it made his blue eyes even brighter. His arms slipped around my waist in a hug, lifting my feet up from the gravel. My whole body was touching him, feeling him, until Jess placed me back down.
“So…surprise?” He grinned at me.
“I know. You should have called.”
“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” His eyes flickered over my clothes, which were virtually see-through. “You swimmin’ now?”
My fingers clenched the towel draped over my left wrist. I felt nervous. “No, I just um, sit at the pool sometimes.”
“Well you must do it a lot. You look good, Al.”
“Thanks.” My fingers fidgeted around again, feeling a loss for words. “Well, I guess grab your stuff. We can drop it off and then I’ll give you the glamorous tour.”
“Glamorous? I thought you said it smelled like swamp shit here.”
“It does, but um…I guess it’s better than your arm pit of death after being on the tractor.”
“Jerk.” Jess reached over and whacked me on the arm. He grinned at me and it almost felt normal. In the distance, I saw Dutch walking back from the pool. The spiral of apprehension returned when I realized the inevitable; they would meet, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Jess followed me down the trail to the dorms. He chattered, and I half listened to some stupid story about Skeeter. He claimed to see Jesus that afternoon in the murky creek bed as he lay passed out from his fall. Skeeter had wandered into Main Street Church last Sunday, and sat right down on the third pew, making Mrs. Ida Flemming and Mrs. Crawford scoot to the middle of the row. The ladies watched Skeeter with wide eyes, fanning themselves as they were bumped from the very spot they’d occupied for the last forty years.
“It was funny. One of the usher’s dropped the offerin’ plate, and it hit the wood floor.” He stopped walking and looked at me. “You ok?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine. No snarky comment ‘bout Skeeter. I thought it would make you laugh.”
“I’m laughing.” I smiled at him. “Why don’t you wait here. I’m going to change then we can eat dinner before your tour.” I hoped if we went early, maybe we could avoid the rest of them.
I rushed Jess through the food line, practically throwing things on his tray. We settled at a spot in the back corner, far from my usual table I shared with Dutch, Brecken, and Darcy.
“You’re not sayin‘ much,” Jess commented, while I scanned the room again for signs of Dutch.
“It’s been a long week. I’m surprised you’re attempting to eat that.” I gestured toward his burger.
“I know. Caroline has me spoiled. You know she’s got one of the girls bringin’ me food out to Sprayberry.”
“What kind of tip gets that service?”
“You should know,” he winked.
I scanned the room again, just in time to see Dutch walk in the side entrance. He spotted me immediately and waved in our direction. I sat frozen in place, fork in mid-bite.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“What um,” I muttered. I couldn’t even speak as I watched Dutch get closer and closer to our table with Brecken.
“Hey Lexie.” Brecken reached for our usual high five. Shit! I held a palm up, keeping my eyes away from Jess. Dutch sat down next to me while Brecken pulled a chair up on the other side by Jess.
“I’m Dutch and the guy with serial killer beard is Brecken.”
“Jess,” he grunted, shaking both of their hands. So far, so good, but I knew it was just the beginning.
“You grew up with Lex?” Dutch asked as he put an arm around my shoulders, letting his hand linger a moment against the back of my neck.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” His eyes moved from me then over to Dutch, trying to piece together something that wasn’t clear yet.
“Cool. Cool.” Dutch reached over with his fork to grab my discarded tomatoes from my plate. He raised the bun of his burger to mash them inside. “Sorry man, I hate to say you picked a really dull time to visit. Lex, you should have invited him to Bourbon Street last weekend with us. Now that was some fun shit.”
“You were in New Orleans. Last Saturday.” The words came not as a question, but a dead pan accusation.
“Yeah…um…briefly.” I wasn’t sure what to do at this point. The tension inside my head felt as if it would explode, leaving bits of brain matter across the table.
“Where do you work at the camp?” Jess glared at Dutch.
“I’m a lifeguard. Poolside, not lake.”
“You work at the swimmin’ pool.” Jess looked back at me. He knew.
“Best damn job here. Little work and everyone likes to hang out with you. Right Lexie?”
I swallowed hard, not answering.
“Hey, pass me the ketchup.” Dutch tapped my hand. I reached up and grabbed the bottle, forgetting about my exposed wrist.
Jess yanked my arm across the table, staring at the inked design. His jaw clenched tight. "We need to talk. Now!" That last word came out as a low growl. His eyes burned from just a few feet away. I’d never seen him so angry at me.
“Ok.”
Getting out of my seat, I went to the door, feeling his presence right behind me. I never looked back the entire trip down the dirt path to the lake. I took a deep breath and sat down on a log, expecting him to join me. He paced around the trail.
“Why don’t you sit down.” I tried to keep my voice even. This would be a fight. We both knew it, but maybe I could calm him down.