Night Sky (3 page)

“We’ve been close for a few years.”

“But now she’s with someone else.”

“Yep.” The stupid picture of her and Eric
dancing hits me again. I wince at the memory.

“When did that happen?”

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Shit… sorry.” She leans
forward in the lawn chair.
Still in her
panties and tiny top.
And I really should
stop thinking about that.
“This is going
to be a pity kiss, but I promise that if we kiss again, it won’t
be.”

Is she kidding?
I’m not sure what to say, but I don’t have to say
anything. Her lips are soft and warmer than mine. She opens her
mouth. She tastes like cherry Pepsi and I put my hand behind her
head to keep her close. Her kiss hits every part of my body,
sending unexpected shocks waves through me.

“Okay.” She pulls away. “You are way too
good at this to be…how old are you?”

“Eighteen, next week.”

She laughs.

Am I allowed to ask her age? Probably
not…but she’s older than me. I know this much. Now I just need to
play it cool. “So, the next kiss won’t be a pity kiss?”

“Nope.” She stands up. “And it’s not going
to happen tonight, either. Turn around, I’m going to put my dry top
on.”

“You’re just going to
strip? Right here?”
Okay, I cannot let
that thought hit too hard. And next kiss?
I really want to feel her mouth on mine again.

“As soon as you turn around.” She twirls her
finger between us signaling me to move.

I do as asked. I hear the slap of her wet
shirt as it hits the side of the pool and it takes every ounce of
my self-control not to turn around. Instead I imagine it. I imagine
her bare browned back, and small black panties.

“Okay.”

I turn around. Her skirt is back on and her
wet tanks are in her hand.

“I’m dry, but I’m still freezing.” She
chuckles as she rubs her arms.

“Just a sec.” I jog into the house and grab
a hoodie for each of us.

“Here.” I hand over a sweatshirt.

“Very decent of you.” She smiles and slides
it over her head. It’s huge on her, but she looks squeezable in all
the extra fabric. And there’s something about her wearing my shirt
that makes me feel…warm…helpful. I don’t know what it is, but the
feeling’s good.

I shiver once with goose bumps and slide the
other sweatshirt over my head.

“You’re gonna walk me
home, right?”
How does she look fluid,
even while standing still?

I slide on my flip-flops. “Yep.”

“I’m glad I ran into you.” She walks to the
gate at the side of the house with these gliding movements that
make me want to sit and watch.

“Me, too.”

“Maybe it’ll happen again.”

“It’ll happen again.” I’ll make sure it
does.

“See? Look at all this honesty. It’s
practically pouring out of you,” she says looking over her
shoulder.

“Practically.” I reach out and take her
hand. Then stare at the cement sidewalk like it’s no big deal.

“I’m only letting you get away with this
because of your friend.” But her hand squeezes mine.

“I’m okay with that.” It’s like her being so
forward, makes it okay for me to be the same way. I should be this
way with Sarah, but I’m not, and I have no idea why that is.

Sky laughs.

Maybe honesty really does work. We stop at
the end of her driveway.

“Thanks, Jay.”

“Thanks, Sky.”
Do I dare?
“How about my
non-pity kiss?”

She laughs. “Nice try.
That one you have to
earn
.”

And earn it I will. But as soon as she goes
inside, the little bubble of happiness surrounding her disappears,
and my chest feels heavy again. I turn for home. What’s going to
change between Sarah and I? Is she going to be dating Eric the
Monday after spring break? Will I even see her over spring break?
Will she call me tomorrow and give me details about her night with
Eric that I don’t want to hear?

I’m not sure. I’m only sure that it sucks to
ask myself these questions.

THREE

Why won’t anyone stop the buzzing? That
horrible…vibrating…

It’s my damn phone.

I roll over in bed and reach for the table.
One word lights up the screen.

SARAH.

Am I ready for
this?
No, and I probably never will
be.

“Hey,” I answer.

“You sound terrible.” She laughs. “You know
it’s like one in the afternoon, right?” I love her voice, all
childish sweetness, mixed with something older, something
indefinable.

“No, I was sleeping, Sarah.”

“Your family, I swear. My dad still has his
‘up by nine o’clock, no matter what’ rule.”

I can picture her perfectly. Her small round
face is pulled into the annoyed scowl that makes me want to smooth
out her forehead with my fingertips. Her lower lip is probably
pushed out in a bit of a pout and her freckly cheeks still hold the
hint of a smile.

“Yeah, how could I forget?”

I’m wide-awake now and wish I wasn’t. My
chest still feels hollowed out and raw, and talking to Sarah isn’t
helping.

“Wow, you’re talkative this morning.”

“That’s what happens when
you wake me up.”
I know she wants me to
ask about her night, but I can’t do it.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me about my night?”
The edge of excitement is there—the edge that makes me
nauseous.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” I let the
words out with a sigh.

“Geez, you’re a ray of sunshine this
morning.”

I bet she’s pulling down the corners of her
mouth while trying to make her eyebrows look mean—when all it does
is make her look even cuter.

I’m being a jerk. No matter what happened, I
can’t stop being her friend.

“Sorry, Sarah. Tell me
everything.”
I just hope it doesn’t kill
me.

“It’s official!” She
squeals and I pull the phone away from my ear. It doesn’t
help.
Her squeal sears another jagged
wound into my chest. “We kissed and then we stayed up all night
talking. He drove me home…and he was so nice,” she says breathing
out the happiest little sigh.

I press my fingers against my eyes. Believe
it or not—it actually does hurt worse than last night.

“Well…” She’s waiting for my response.

Right. This is where I’m
supposed to say something really sweet and supportive.
“That’s…great.”

“You’re supposed to be more excited for me,
Jamesy.” Her voice has a teasing edge, but she sounds hurt. She’s
called me Jamesy since I can remember. But right now, I think I
both love and hate the nickname she has for me. I love it, because
it’s so Sarah—a little juvenile and silly—and now I’ll probably
hate it for the same reason.

“If you’re happy…I’m
happy, Sarah.”
Is that true? I guess…part
of it is.

“Aw, don’t worry, Jamesy, we’ll still hang
out.”

She thinks I’m worried because we won’t hang
out anymore.

How many times did I have the opportunity to
tell her that I liked her?

Too many to count…

How often were we alone together?

All the time…

I mean, we have other friends, but we don’t
spend that much time with them because we have each other.

Had each other…

And now I’m screwed because she’s with
someone else, and thinks I’m bummed because I might lose her as a
“friend.”

“Of course we will.” I try to laugh, but end
up coughing instead.

“Okay.” She giggles. “This is going
nowhere…you obviously need more sleep.”

“Yeah.”
That’s just what I need…more sleep. More sleep
will fix everything.

I hang up and hurl my
phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying thump
before falling to the floor. I lie on my back and pull my knees up,
resting my feet on the bed. I suck in a breath to hold in my
tears.
How much of a girl am I?

“Jameson?” Mom knocks softly on my door.

“Yeah?” My chest is so tight—I’m not sure
how I manage to talk.

She sits on the side of the bed putting a
hand on my knee. I don’t know if her sympathy makes me feel better
or worse.

“Waffles? Swim?”

“They’d get soggy, Mom.”

She laughs. I laugh a little too. I swear
that when my body tries to laugh, all it does is shake out more
tears.

“Take a deep breath.” Mom’s voice is a
whisper.

“I can’t, not yet.” I flatten my hands and
wipe the tears away with my palms.

“It might take a while.” Her hand squeezes
my knee in a depressingly sympathetic gesture.

But it’s actually the most comforting thing
I’ve heard yet, so I answer, “Swim.”

“I’ll see you in five.”

“No, three,” I mutter.

Mom walks out and I let my
hands fall from my face.
Swim…I can do
this.
I roll out of bed, throw on a pair
of shorts, and step outside.

When we moved into this house, Mom and Dad
made sure that both our bedrooms opened onto the backyard. This
means I only have to take about twenty steps from my bed to the
pool.

“I win,” Mom says, standing at the edge.

I make a dash, but we hit
the surface at about the same time. I can feel the line of water
slide across my skin as I jump in.
It’s
been years since Mom’s been able to keep up with me. We swim
together anyway. Back and forth we go. No need to speak, no need
for anything. It’s just the pull of my arms, the push of my feet,
and the coolness that flows over my body as I move. The hole in my
heart is still there, digging at the inside of my chest, but the
edges are less jagged. The water’s smoothing them out—just like it
does with everything.

After a few laps, I realize that I’m alone
in the water. I check the edges of the pool and see Mom’s feet
below the surface. I swim straight to her and stand up.

“I’m starving,” she says with a smile.

“Me, too.”

“Good.” She stands up and heads for the
house.

I sit on the edge of the
pool for a few more moments. My night with Sky flashes through my
mind—her raw honesty, her dark hair…and yes, her small black
panties. I have to see this girl again. My stomach rumbles and I
smile.
Smile.
As
impossible as that felt this morning, it feels good now.

It’s not like Sarah died.

No, she’s just dating someone who can’t
understand a tenth of her worth.

But it’s what she wants.

Maybe she doesn’t know what she wants.

And how am I supposed to tell her how I
feel?

Stop having imaginary conversations in your
head, Jameson. Sooner or later you’ll be having them out loud.

“
Breakfast!” Mom calls out the back door.

I almost laugh because it’s probably
somewhere between two and three in the afternoon.

***

Spring break passes like this:

Wake up around noon or one, or two…then
swim. Lay in the sun that’s almost hot enough to really love lying
in. Hang out downtown. Fend off attacks from Kim, even though they
make me feel good.

Visit Mike, who takes care of the dolphins
at the Mirage, but only after the exhibit is closed. I like having
them to myself.

Drive by Sky’s grandparents’ house more than
I should.

I miss Sarah. I want Sarah to call.

Sarah calls. I wish Sarah hadn’t called.

My eighteenth birthday consists of the swim
team coming over to my house and trashing my backyard. Sarah
couldn’t come, Sky isn’t here and I’m okay with this; it’s just
people who like to swim.

I swim…and then swim some more…and then swim
some more. It works my body and keeps my brain from wandering to
places I don’t want it to go. I almost won state last year in the
men’s freestyle. I have to do it this year. It gives me an excuse
to spend hour after hour in the solitude of the pool.

I’m still getting sympathy stares from Mom,
and Dad’s been working every shift he can get his hands on. Maybe
he wants to update his Porsche.

I’m mad at myself for not asking Sky for her
number, and wish I could erase Sarah from my mind.

FOUR

There have been a lot of
mornings—especially Mondays—that I haven’t wanted to go to school.
But they don’t compare to this Monday. Not even a little bit. I
think about being sick today. Mom and Dad don’t care if I take a
day off every once in a while. I keep my grades up. I’m a part of
the Honor Society and student government and all that. But if I
don’t go today, I’ll just have to go tomorrow…or the next
day
.
One extra
day at home isn’t going to change anything. Which sucks.

I put on my Green Valley High School
t-shirt, Diesel jeans and old school Asics. Something normal,
something I’d wear any day. I run my hands over my head, thankful I
don’t have any hair to deal with. Sarah hasn’t called for a ride so
I’m assuming she’s getting one from someone else. I take a deep
breath before my lungs cave in.

There’s a student government meeting this
morning. I have time for a Cliff bar and nothing else. I take my
first bite as I step out the front door.

“Shit, shit,
shit
!” I hear a girl’s
voice.

I stop next to my car and
see Sky, a few houses down, kicking the tires of a worn down, red
Honda Civic.
Where has she been this past
week? Because I’ve looked toward her grandparents’ house more times
than I care to admit.