A Thin Line (6 page)

"Morgan called me. Crying. Says we're ruining her wedding."

"And?"

"And...if we can't pull off this wedding then they don't want us involved at all. Like we might not even get an invite. And we're kicked out of the wedding party."

Preston shrugs his shoulders. "And? Why is this important? They've been together since they were five years old.  We're supposed to move heaven and earth so they can get married, finally? They should go to the JoP and get it done."

"She talked about doing that."

"Okay. Why can't we let them do that?"

"Because we know that isn't what Morgan wants.  Because we know that if they plan their own wedding, it will be the most boring nuptials ever. Because they are plain white Wonder bread people and they are counting on us to make this memorable and special for them, for us, for everybody. I want her to have what she wants. Don't you want Nate to have what he wants?"

"I don’t think Nate gives a shit," Preston mumbles.

He opens the refrigerator, pulls out another Purple Haze, offering it to me. I shake my head. He shrugs and keeps it for himself, popping the top off with his bare hands. He gulps down a few swallows, belches, and leans against the counter again. "But what I don't want is Morgan calling
me
crying. I can't handle those puppy dog eyes every time I see her, knowing I ruined her big day."

"Exactly. And I don't want to hear, for the rest of my life, how we could have been involved, but we couldn't get along. It's both of us, or neither of us."

"You know what they're doing, right?" 

I nod. "Yep. I've known since the first night they brought it up."

Preston’s smile as he shakes his head makes me smile in spite of him.  "They're not very sneaky."

"But if they think that us planning this wedding is going to get us back together, they are shit out of luck."

Preston takes a few more swallows from the bottle and sets it down on the counter then stands to full height. "So what do you want to do?"

I close my eyes and prepare to grovel. For Morgan. "I want to see my best friends get married. I want Morgan to have her special day. I want to be in the pictures, even if I have to stand next to you and paint on the happiest, fakest smile. I want to see the sunset from a beach on St. Lucia. And I want to get this done in the most efficient way possible so neither of us has to go the rest of our lives with the guilt trip.

"So... let's call a truce and try to be civil." I tip my head up to look into his face. "On the condition that when this is over, you and I part ways and have nothing else to do with each other. Ever."

His eyes pop open wide and his eyebrows lift. "Seriously?"

"You have to ask? Do you realize that we broke up eighteen years ago and I haven't had a moment's peace since? I don't know about you, but I can't go a day without someone asking me when we're getting back together. Nate and Morgan are trying to force us back together by having us plan this wedding for them. I feel so tied to our past. Maybe if we get some space, we can get along without having to agree to get along."

I offer my hand, ready to shake on it. "I'm told I treat you like shit. So... until this wedding is over, I promise to…
try
to be nice. Do we have a deal?"

Preston doesn't move for a while. He stands in his kitchen, hands on his hips, his eyes on me. Not glaring, not sneering, just... looking. I start to feel stupid with my hand in the air between us, but I don't give in.

"So, we plan this wedding, then it's over and we don't know each other anymore? That's what you want?"

"That's what I want," I say and extend my hand further.  Preston finally reaches for my hand and it disappears inside his. We agree with a shake and a squeeze and nod and he lets go.

"We're still on to talk to the resort on Wednesday?"

"Yes we are. I'll show up early for the conference with your client."

"Sure," he says, slowly nodding. Very subdued.

"So, I'll let you get back to your uh.... date. Or whatever she is."

He glares. "That didn't last long."

I laugh, heading toward the front door. "I didn't even say anything! I'll let myself out. Have fun. Wear a condom!"

"That's the shit I'm talking about."

I climb back into my car, start it, and roll out of the driveway, heading toward home again. I've surprised myself by verbalizing my desire to want to be away from Preston after this is all over. I don't think I've ever said it out loud before, but I feel so smothered by him.

There are good and bad sides to dating someone you've known your whole life. There's virtually no fear. I had that with Preston and I loved spending my formative years exploring with him. There was no safer place.

But then comes the breakup and all those memories and firsts don't go away. Everything reminds me of him. I compare my feelings for every new man to what I used to feel for Preston, and if it's nowhere near as fiery and strong and comfortable as I felt before, I consider it a waste of my time. On the rare occasions that I actually like someone enough to have sex, even the tamest, most vanilla of encounters, it's tainted with the memory of doing it for the first time with Preston.

He'll always be in my life, wrapped around it, intertwining with the people I love. He is a part of my past and I know I can't ever completely eliminate him, but I can do a hell of a lot to get away from him. I need to move on.

I need to make some major changes, the first of which is not being reminded, every day of my life, of the biggest mistake I've ever made.

As much as a teenage girl could love a teenage boy, I loved Preston.

With all my heart, as young and undamaged and untested as it was, I loved him. He made it easy by not changing very much after we were official. We still hung out with our friends, we still studied together a few nights a week and we still went to school functions like games and dances together. Nothing changed, because we'd been doing all of that stuff already. We just added sneaking around to have sex to the equation.

Things got easier after Preston got a car when he turned sixteen. A Jeep, very used but in good condition. Thomas, Preston’s dad, thought it would come in handy for carting us kids back and forth to games and dances and weekend and summer activities. He had to work for gas money though, so he got a job fixing computers. Preston worked a few hours on Saturday and the occasional weeknight. Back then, gas was cheap and that was all we really needed to get around. All I could think about was if the backseat folded down and how much room was back there.

Suddenly, we had freedom and privacy. We could go to a drive-in movie or head to the lake or the beach. It was nice that it was just the two of us and the flicker from a fire Preston made for the romantic light. He always kept a blanket under the back seat and yes, the back seat did fold down. 

My favorite night with him was the fall of our junior year. It was starting to get dark early and there was a hint of a chill in the air. We drove out to Lake Conway, one of our favorite spots. There were some townhomes along the lake on one side; the other side was all forest, uninhabited. Preston found a dirt road that would take us north, far away from any of the homes, further away than anyone would likely be coming to fish. We'd swim and eat whatever we packed to bring, listen to music, talk... and when the sun dipped below the horizon, we crawled into the backseat.

The night air smelled clean, the lake lapped at the rocks on the shore mere feet from us, there were no noises or disturbances except the bleating of frogs and coyotes in the distance mixing with the crackle of the easy listening station on the radio. Preston insisted it help set the mood. I thought most of the songs were cheesy, but if it made him want me, I was game.

That night we laid there next to each other, talking and touching, taking our time. Preston sat up and turned on the overhead interior light.

"What? What's wrong?" I grabbed a corner of the blanket and folded it over most of my body since I was naked. "Do we need to leave?"

"No. Nothing's wrong." He grabbed the blanket and gently pulled at it, revealing my body again. He smiled and reached out to touch me. The tip of his finger dragged across my skin, leaving fire in its wake. My nipples stood on end and goosebumps rose and my breath quickened. "I like looking at you," he said, his finger traveling south. "I like touching you."

"I... I like it too," I managed to stutter, though made quite speechless by the sensation of his finger stroking, circling, applying pressure. I opened my legs wider to give him more room, more access. He bent to kiss me, moving down my body... then his mouth took over and.......
oh my God
.

"Holy fuck, please don't stop."

It didn't take long before the steady
flickflickflickflick
of his tongue was making my hips roll so violently he had to wrap his hands around my thighs. I tried really hard to be quiet, but then I realized we were in the middle of a forest so I could be loud if I wanted to. And I wanted to. 

I had worked myself to the very edge of the seat, trying for some reason to get away, when what I really wanted was more–I just couldn't take how good it felt. Preston laughed and laid next to me, pulling me back toward him and wrapped me in his arms until I stopped shaking and my breathing returned to normal and I could stop saying, "oh my God," over and over.

"Did you like that?"

I didn't mean to laugh in his face, but it seemed like a crazy question to me. "Are you kidding? Did you hear me screaming?"

"Yeah, I heard you," he said, a cheesy grin on his lips. "I just wanted to hear you say it was good."

I was lightheaded, so I'm sure I sounded all dreamy when I assured him. "It was good, baby. So good."

"That makes me happy," he said softly, stroking my cheek. "I have something to tell you."

"What? Something bad?"

"No. Just that... we've been together a while now... but we've been hanging out longer, so I've known this for a long time, but... I love you. A lot. And I want you to love me. And–"

I stopped his ridiculous ramble with a kiss. When our lips parted, I said, "If you don't know by now that I love you, then you are a really dense boy."

He laughed a deep hearty laugh that warmed my heart every time I heard it.  "I mean… I had an idea..."

"But you wanted to hear me say it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I love you. More than anything." I pulled him toward me and he wrapped his arms around me again.  "You’re the only person I’ve ever been with. And I’m the only person you've ever been with. I think I never want to love anyone else. That's a crazy thing to say, huh? Am I scaring you?"

Preston hesitated to answer, but then shrugged. "Nah. I'm not scared."

We had managed to keep our relationship under wraps for a long time. Only Nate and Morgan knew we were dating. Our parents definitely couldn't know, otherwise they'd never let us hang out alone together.  After Preston got the Jeep, everything changed.

I came home one night, after helping Morgan write a paper for English class, to find both my parents sitting at our kitchen table. My dad pointed to a chair and said, simply, "Sit."

I dropped my book bag and sat, with some idea of what this talk was going to be about. My mom had been hinting that maybe Preston and I were getting too close, spending too much time together, were too attached.

"What's up?" I asked, looking from my mom to my dad and back.

"This," my dad said, dumping a gallon sized Ziploc bag onto the table. My eyes slammed shut and then automatically reopened. It was a bag of condoms. "You're doing the city or you're supplying the city. Either way, we need to talk."

The condoms were more important to me than to Preston so I always made sure to get them. Otherwise, like our first time, he would use the first thing he got his hands on. I learned from Morgan that we could get condoms from a number of clinics, no questions asked. Every time I went downtown for some reason, I went to one of three clinics and picked up a handful. I had the nurses convinced I was handing them out at school. Maybe I got a little carried away with collecting them, but we were always protected.

"Baby… are you and Preston having sex?" My mom asked, her voice shaking.  

"We're obviously being careful," I answered without really answering, nodding toward the bag. "How did you find that? It was pretty well hidden in my room."

"Actually, it was in the back of Preston's Jeep," my dad said. "Thomas took it in for maintenance, opened rear door and it was like a sex den back there. Preston fessed up, that you and he had been… together.”

I laughed without meaning to. It was never like a sex den in the back of the Jeep. We were always careful to put the seat back up, fold the blanket and pick up any wrappers. I always made Preston pick up every scrap and take the used condom with him. We couldn't risk our parents finding out that we were doing it at home.

"Eric." My mom rolled her eyes at my dad. "Thomas said he found a condom wrapper stuck to the blanket under the seat. He kept looking and then he found the bag. He let us know because... well you're our daughter and you two are very young to be doing adult things. They're probably talking to Preston right now."

"We're very careful. Always."

"Listen, I don't want you seeing that kid anymore–"

"Dad," I interrupted. I'd never interrupted my dad before but I couldn't even let him suggest that I'd be willing to break up over this. "Preston and I are dating. We love each other and we aren't going to stop seeing each other. Yes, we have sex. We are careful. Obviously."

My hand flopped onto the table near the bag of condoms. "We aren't going to stop having sex because you're mad about it. And I hope the Reid’s know that too. Please don't make us sneak around to see each other."

My dad fumed. He was angry, but cornered. He wanted to lay down the law, but I made a good point. If we had to sneak around, we would.

"I love you guys. And I love that you're worried and concerned about us. But we're doing everything right."

The chair scraped across the floor as my dad pushed back from the table. He stood, stomped away, then came back, pointing a finger at my mom.

"I want her on the pill. Yesterday!" He stomped back out again, leaving my mom and me to stare at each other at the kitchen table, the bag of condoms as a centerpiece.

The next day, the ride to school was tense.  Well, Preston was tense. I thought it was kind of funny.

"My mom is pissed," Preston said.

"Why?"

His eyes left the road briefly so he could glare at me. "Why do you think?"

I grinned. "Cause we're fucking in the backseat of the car they bought you?"

"It's not funny, Angie."

"Okay, sorry." Silence for a few moments, and then, "So are you grounded?"

"No. But my dad talked till he was blue in the face about birth control and STD's and AIDS and shit. Like I don't know about that stuff. And like you're the kind of girl to have STD's."

"Right. It's not like I'm Stacey Fullmer or anything. I can't even imagine what she has. She'll fuck anybody." Preston stared at the road ahead and chewed on the inside of his lip. "I have to get on the pill," I confessed.

"Yeah?" He glanced at me and I nodded. "Do you want to go on the pill?"

I shrugged. "I was going to ask about it anyway. Now I don't have to.”

"Does that mean we can stop using condoms?"

"Uhm. I don't know. We should maybe keep using them, in case the pill doesn't work."

"Yeah." Preston nodded but sounded slightly disappointed.

"So... I guess we got off easy."

"Yeah." Preston inhaled a deep breath and sighed, then glanced at me with his usual gap toothed smile. "Guess we did."

It wasn't long before we were back in our families’ good graces and we could resume our evenings at Lake Conway. I didn't think it was possible to be more in love with Preston, but every time I saw him or talked to him, I realized how deeply I felt for him, how close I felt to him, how all I wanted was to be with him. I learned so much with him, explored so many things with him, felt so safe and taken care of with him. In my mind, nothing could destroy that.

The beginning of our senior year was full of excitement and promise. Fall meant Homecoming and spring meant prom and graduation. Preston and I were already talking about our plans. I was going to stay in Orlando and he decided to go for a Computer Science degree and work with his dad. We would still be doors away from each other and we could ride to classes together. Eventually, maybe a couple of years, we would get jobs and an apartment near campus. We talked about the future nonstop. The only thing standing in our way was senior year.

Homecoming was a huge event at Clark High School. Our football team was undefeated the prior season and hadn't lost a homecoming game in ten years. Spirits were high for the game and the dance, held at the Orange County Country Club, a swanky, high class establishment. Nate's dad had a membership, so sometimes we could go over in the summer and swim and play tennis. I liked pretending there was a distinct possibility that I could ever belong there.

Morgan and I had gone shopping for dresses. Mine was black, sleek, strapless with a slit up the side that stopped mid-thigh. I bought a pair of heels that made my legs look like they belonged on Beverly Johnson. My mom did my hair and makeup. I was flawless, and proud to say so.  This would be our last Homecoming Dance and we planned to make it count.

Preston arrived right on time in a black suit, baby blue dress shirt, skinny tie with blue pin stripes and black shoes buffed to a high shine. His hair was in its normal state of perfection.

"Hey. You look great," he said, his eye roving from my hair to my feet and back up. "Really great."

"Thanks," I said, flashing hot. Crazy how he still did that to me. "You look really nice."

"Thanks. Is my tie straight?"

"It looks fine." I gave him a peck on the lips, which my mom and Corrine insisted on getting on film.

Our moms must have taken an entire roll of photos before we climbed into the Jeep and headed toward the Club. The parking lot was already crawling with cars, girls tip toeing across the pavement in long flowing dresses and guys strutting proudly, yelling jokes and names at each other. I heard the thump of bass coming from the dance floor. The beat matched the thump of my heart as we made our way inside.

A disco ball spun in the center of the room, shooting out sparks of light. Couples were already mid floor, dancing, laughing and talking. A few people were gathered around the punch bowl, waiting for a cup. There were rumors that someone planned to spike the punch, so the bowl was being guarded by the Guidance Counselor.