Sins of the Flesh (Exposed Series Book 1) (13 page)

But it was for purely selfish reasons that I’d pushed them away
when I was younger. I thought they were too judgmental. Lame even. They didn’t
fit in with my lifestyle, my friends, my drinking schedule.

And now I was dying and it was too late. I couldn’t take it all
back, couldn’t just call to say I was sorry for everything. They would
instantly assume I was calling because I needed something. And they would be
right. And when they found out that what I needed was sympathy, unconditional
love, and company in my final days, it would be asking too much.

And even if they were willing to help, how could they not resent
me for asking?

I wondered if things might be different if I had something to
leave them. Snarls was a love hungry burden. But I did have a closet full of
cool clothes. Some of them had even been worn by famous people. I have a vest that
Kate Moss left in my friend’s tent at a music festival. I have a belt buckle
that belonged to Lenny Kravitz. Or maybe he just had one like it; I can’t
remember.

I even have a t-shirt that James Hetfield gave me after one of
his band mates barfed on me at an after party. Not that he would remember. If I
didn’t have the shirt, I wouldn’t either. But those items might be worth
something on eBay. If I could ever prove where I got them.

Then again, they’re probably only special to me.

Actual cash would be an ideal parting gift. I’ve always believed
that money, like time, has great healing powers. Unfortunately, the money I had
wasn’t enough to buy my family's affection after death.

Still, it didn’t seem right to leave without a trace. Even if I
could convince myself that they wouldn’t care if I disappeared, at least one person
deserved an explanation. To be honest, I knew she deserved a lot more than an
explanation. But at the very least, I could try and give her that much.

It was this nagging desire to make things right that was
heckling me day and night. It was keeping me from booking my trip and getting
on with what was left of my life. It was the reason why I was drunk and
surrounded by a mess of crumpled papers for the third night in a row.

But I couldn’t get the words right. Every letter ended with me
saying I wished I could go back and do things differently. Which didn’t help
anyone.

A few months ago, I thought I still had decades to make amends.
Instead, I had to make my confessions in a hurry, without knowing whether the
person I was trying to reach even cared.

And if she did, could she ever forgive me?

I was only in the Student Leader’s Club at school because I
thought it would look good on my college application. I got out of almost
everything required to retain my membership because I was a varsity athlete.

But there was one thing I couldn’t get out of and that was leading
freshman retreat. The idea was to give the students a chance to meet some new
people second semester once they got settled. But the only thing I remember about
mine was feeling embarrassed for the Baby Sitter’s Club rejects that organized
it. 

Hopefully, my assigned partner and I would be better received.

Assuming he wasn’t a loser.

I agreed to meet him at his house so we could both avoid the
humiliation of him meeting my Mom. He lived at the end of a long, tree lined
driveway that smelled like damp leaves and was littered with kid’s bikes. The
house itself was smaller than mine and overgrown with vines, but cute. Like a
hobbit designed it.

I was nervous when I knocked on the door because I didn’t know
what to expect. Kevin wasn’t exactly popular at school, but he also didn’t seem
to be particularly bothered by that. Like he didn’t really try to fit in, but
he didn’t get picked on either.

To be honest, I wasn’t even sure who his friends were. All I
knew was that Annie said she’d seen him at a few college parties. But since I’d
never been to one, I didn’t know how that was supposed to help me.

And even though it sounds horrible, sometimes it’s just easier when
you can prejudge a person. It can be unsettling to have to make up your own
mind because what if you’re wrong? I mean, one minute you think someone’s cool
and you say so. And the next week you find out they have a wild bird they allow
to nest in their unwashed hair. And all of a sudden everyone decides that you
must be a freak, too, because you vouched for them.

Anyway, when the door opened and there was no one there, I
looked down, half expecting to see a hobbit. Instead, there was a small girl
who couldn’t have been more than five or six staring up at me. She was wearing
a pink and white polka dotted bath robe and a crown.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I said. “Is Kevin here?”

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Kate.”

“You’re pretty.”

“Thank you,” I said. “So are you. I like your crown.”

“Would you like to wear one, too?” She stuck a small corner of
her sleeve in her mouth and chewed it. “We could play princesses.”

“Would it be okay if we did that another time?” I asked. “I came
to see Kevin today. Is he here?”

Her eyes lit up. “Maybe you could
both
play princesses!”

“Does Kevin like to play princesses?”

“Sometimes he does.”

The door opened further and Kevin’s face peaked around the door.
“Kate. Hey.”

“Kate came to play princesses,” the little girl said, looking up
at him.

Kevin squatted down next to her. “Kate and I have to work on a
project for school, Jenny, but if we have time to play princesses, I’ll let you
know.”

Jenny crossed her arms.

“Maybe Amy will play with you?”

Jenny’s shoulders dropped along with her face. Then she
scrambled off, presumably to proposition Amy.

“Nice to meet you, Jenny,” I said, but she had already
disappeared around the corner.

“Come on in,” Kevin said. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. She’s sweet.”

He rolled his eyes. “The line between playing and being a
princess is a very thin one for her.”

I smiled.

“Are you happy to work on the back porch?” he said. “The house
can get a little cramped when everyone’s home.”

“Everyone?”

“There’s seven of us.”

“Oh,” I said. “The porch is fine.”

“You want something to drink? Lemonade? Coke?”

“Lemonade would be nice.”

The house smelled strongly of artificial pine, and I was
relieved when he let me out the back door.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” I pulled my red jacket around me and followed the stone
path towards the back porch. I could hear Kevin yelling inside.

“Steven! You are officially in charge. Leave your door open so
you can listen out for the girls! Steven?! Make a noise so I know you heard me?...Steven!...Thank
you.”

The porch was small, but their large yard extended all the way
to woods at the back. I flicked some leaves off the green and white cushions
and sat down at the wrought iron patio table.

Kevin appeared a second later with two glasses of lemonade.

“Sweet yard.”

“Glad you like it,” he said, creases forming around his hazel
eyes.

I nodded towards an area in the far corner of the yard where
some logs were set up in a square. “You have bonfires over there a lot?”

“Occasionally.”

“Cool,” I said, wondering who was privy to such gatherings. I
felt him staring at me, but when I turned he moved his eyes out to the woods.

He leaned back in his chair. “Do you mind if I smoke,” he asked,
slipping his fingers in the pocket of his black and green flannel shirt.

I stared at the joint between his fingers.

“If you’d rather I didn’t I’ll-”

“No. It’s cool. Go ahead.” I looked over my shoulder.

“My parents aren’t home if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“And the kids?”

“Otherwise occupied.”

“Oh. Okay, then.”

I watched out of the corner of my eye as he held the joint in
front of him, rolling one end in the flame of his lighter. When the paper
started to burn so it looked like a glowing cigarette, he dragged on it twice
and held his breath.

I’d seen lots of kids smoke pot at parties. Or rather, I’d seen
small groups of people skulk off to do it. But I’d never been right next to
anyone while they got high.

Kevin pinched the joint between his fingers and held it out to
me. “Want some?”

I honestly didn’t know. But it did smell a lot sweeter than the
cigarette stench I was used to.

“Might help us brainstorm something good for the retreat.”

I looked from his face to the joint and back again. Something in
his eyes intrigued me. They looked sharp. Like he could see right through me. And
like he didn’t really give a shit whether I wanted some or not.

He extended his hand a little closer to me, and I watched the
thin trail of smoke rise in the air between us.

“Okay,” I said.

I dragged on the joint like it was a cigarette. The smoke burned
my throat and made my eyes water. A second later I was coughing my brains out.

He grinned but didn’t laugh.

“So much for acting like I’d done that before,” I said, passing
it back to him.

“Some people say you get way higher if you cough.”

“Really?” I squeaked, reaching for my lemonade.

“Something to do with sucking all that oxygen in and forcing the
smoke back in your lungs.”

I took a drink and let the lemonade soothe my throat. “Good to
know.”

“Aren’t you friends with Annie?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve never gotten high before?”

I shook my head. “Why?”

“I’m just surprised. She’s always high when I see her out.”

“Yeah, well…” I said, trying to act like that wasn’t news to me.
“How come I never see you out?”

Kevin shrugged.

I wondered what his thick black curls would feel like between my
fingers.

“I mostly hang out with kids from New Prescott,” he said.
“That’s where all my friends went to high school.”

“So why didn’t you go there?”

“My parents can be kind of strict,” he said. “They wanted me to
go to a school where I couldn’t skip class and get away with it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Some country club fundraiser thing.” He puffed on the joint and
held it in.

“There’s an idea,” I said. “We could try and raise money for
something on our frosh retreat day.”

“Go on.”

“We could have a bake sale or organize a food drive or
something-“

“Or just tell the kids they can wear jeans if they pay a dollar,
and we’ll give the money to charity.”

“Yeah.”

“Not bad,” he said. “Doesn’t sound quite as exciting as playing
icebreakers all day or running sack races, but-”

“Sack races?”

“It was a joke.” He passed me the joint.

I dragged on it more gently this time as if I were sucking the
smoke through a tiny straw and held it in like I’d seen him do.

“So was Ian cool with you coming over here?”

I shot him a look. “Ian? I didn’t tell him.”

“Oh.”

I scrunched my brow. “Why?”

“I thought you guys were a thing.”

“A thing.” The expression was almost as vague as our
relationship. 

“You’re not?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Did being “a thing” mean hooking up on the weekends? Cause that
was the extent of what we had going on. In fact, I was starting to think he was
never going to ask me out. And I wasn’t sure if I even wanted that anymore.

“Well do you like him or not?” Kevin asked.

I helped myself to a second drag since I’d heard the phrase
puff,
puff, pass
somewhere before. Had Annie told me that? Was she trying to tell
me she smoked pot?

“Sometimes I like him.”

Kevin blew air out from between his lips.

“What?”

“I just don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” he said. “You
either like him or you don’t.”

“Do
you
like him?”

He looked at me.

“What?”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I think you’re cool.”

“Thanks,” I said, searching his hair for evidence of a bird’s
nest. “I think you’re cool, too.”

“But I think Ian is a huge tool.”

“Do you even know him?”