Beautiful Oblivion (10 page)

I take a breath at the thought. “I did, didn’t I?” I can feel my cheeks filling in with heat. “Hey, Bry—what do you think my dad would say if he knew Ace and I were dating?”

“I don’t know. He’s sort of gunning for Warren, I think we both know that.”

“True story.” And it breaks my heart.

“You know who else is gunning for Warren?” She slips a blonde curl behind her ear.

“Who?” My cheek rises on one side disapprovingly. “If you say it’s you, I’ll hurl all over your feet. I have higher standards for you.”

“
Warren
.” She taps my foot with hers. “He talked on and on this morning about how he felt like an ass and wanted to make it up to you.”

“Did he tell you what he did?” God, if he’s blabbing about our mattress mishap to anyone who’ll listen, I’ll die. It’s bad enough I confessed to Ace what happened.

“He mentioned something about coming on too strong. And, before you freak out it was just Neva and me.”

“Lovely.” I don’t like the thought of Warren letting Neva and Brylee in on what happened last night. “Did you guys have a pillow fight afterward? I mean, that’s what besties do, right?”

Brylee shakes her head at me. “Just go shape your hairy sweet spot into a heart, would you?” She hops off the bed. “I’ll be back in the morning for the dirty deets.” She heads out the door and pauses. “Oh, and happy endings!”

After what felt like hours of plucking, and shaving, and shaping—my entire body is hygienically clean enough to eat a meal off. Of course, I’m hoping to be the meal. My insides throb at the idea of what Ace and I might be doing later. I have a feeling it won’t take long to achieve that happy ending. I’m just hoping I can hold out long enough to make it worth his while.

I change into a sheer lace dress that stretches over each of my curves in the event Ace forgets where to land his special kisses, but before I bolt out the door, I hop on my bed a moment and do the unthinkable. I reach under my mattress and pull out the letters from my mother. I suppose there’s more than a brain malfunction going on when I’m about to get as close to having sex as possible, and here I am looking to steal a moment of quality time with my poor, sweet mother.

The envelopes slip through my fingers like butter. It warms me to think she touched these very things just days before her passing. She lost so much weight those last few months, and, in the end, she was nothing but skin over bones. I try not to remember her like that, her toothy grimace, her smooth, bald head. My mother was a beauty queen in the most literal sense—Miss Lake Loveless once upon a time, the knockout who stole my father’s heart. She had long, dark hair she could wrap around her neck like a scarf, and a body that men would routinely drool over. The cancer stole her looks before it took her life, but it couldn’t steal her beauty where it really counted, on the inside. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just a few weeks before my twelfth birthday. I’ll never forget the long faces. The fear in her eyes that she would never see me blow out another candle.

I shake the bitter memory of those dark days out of my head if only for a moment.

Instead, I focus in on the loopy handwriting stamped across each one of these envelopes. It’s as familiar as seeing her face. I pluck the most recent letter out and open it—run my fingers over her precious penmanship before reading.

Dear Reese,

Happy Birthday!

Congratulations, you’re in your twenties! It’s going to be a magical decade—one laced with just about every new experience under the sun. This is the time in your life where you really discover who you are and what makes you tick, what you believe in, and the things you think are worth fighting for, dying for. But, like most girls your age, you’ll spend an abundance of your time thinking about love. There are so many different types of love, and I think we both know that I’m not talking about the kind of love Daddy and I have for you. What you’re probably looking for has a far more sensual meaning behind it. I want you to know, you have my blessing. And I hope you find exactly what you’re looking for with the exact person you desire it from most. But if it doesn’t come, don’t let it steal your joy. There’s so much happiness all around, so much unexpected wonder in the little things. That’s really what I want you to appreciate—the joy and the ecstasy in the little things. Find the ecstasy in life where you can. It’s in those moments you really live. All those other gaps in time are just filler until the next bout of delirium. You could find it just as easily in the silence as you could anywhere—it could be in the face of a perfect flower, in the scent of a fragrant spring morning. It could be in a kiss from a beautiful boy. All of those sweet moments make one hell of an adventure
.
And if life doesn’t offer you an adventure—make one happen.

Enjoy every moment.

Every precious breath is a thing of beauty. Cradle those you love in your heart, bury them there, and never let them go. Life is too short to forget about them even for a moment.

Love you forever,

Mommy

Tears run down my cheeks in long, hot streaks as I carefully replace the letters under my mattress. It was that last line, the one about burying the ones you love in your heart and never forgetting them that set the tone for my entire last year at Yeats. After grieving my mother once again, the next person I thought about was Ace. It was him I knew I never wanted out of my life, and I spent the entire livelong year pining after him like the lovesick schoolgirl I was. By Valentine’s Day I had mapped out exactly how this summer would go down. I would have begged on my knees if I had to, but I was determined to have him.

And, tonight, I will.

Mostly.

I skip downstairs to find the house empty. A lone vase sits on the table with two-dozen long stem roses spilling out from it like a bloodied waterfall.

A pink note sits on the table next to them, and I snap it up.

These came while you were gone.

                           ~Ken

I pull the little white card from between the roses, and my thumb snags on a thorn and starts to bleed. I touch it to my lips and let the salty brine linger over my tongue before reading the card.

Reese,

Sorry about last night. Let’s talk.

                             Warren

I bury the card between the knife-sharp stems and walk right out the door.

It’s my time with Ace, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

I traverse the backwoods road to Ace’s family cabin, in heels no less, just to keep Warren from spotting me. Not that I care what Warren thinks, but if I’m seen out with Ace night after night people are going to talk, and God knows Loveless is as small a town as any. You’d think gossip were the most powerful currency around the way people kept an eye on it like it was in the Dow.

The smell of campfires burning from around the lake lights up my senses with the scent of smoky apple wood, hot dogs, and something sweet layered just beneath that. I love this mystical spell that only the mountain can cast—it brings out a fairytale atmosphere. The fires create a smokescreen with reality and makes this entire evening feel like I’ve crawled into a dream. Maybe I’ll wake up after all this, still in my dorm with the curtains drawn tight. But here I am on the way to see the only boy I’ve ever loved. It’s not a dream. It’s my new reality. This is the exact kind of midnight magic Ace accused me of that first night in the lake, and soon I’ll be experiencing it with him in the very best way.

I never thought Ace would cave so easily, and it makes me question whether or not
his
brain is the one malfunctioning.

The door to his cabin is wide open, so I lean in. “Knock, knock,” I say into a hole in the screen. The house is lit up a bright peach, and I can make out Neva lying on the couch, watching TV. Her pale leg hangs over the side, and she has a long, black dress on that reminds me of Morticia from the Adam’s family.

“It’s open,” she grumbles, so I let myself in. The air gives off a mix of refried oil and cigarettes, which doesn’t surprise me since both Neva and her dad are notorious chain smokers.

Neva inspects me from her supine position, never bothering with hello or even a middle finger. Go figure. I guess she’s going soft.

Her hair is ratted out over her head a good six inches, and her lids are covered in a dark, maroon eye shadow giving her that bruised effect I’m sure she’s after.

Neva didn’t morph into Satan’s spawn until about six months after she severed ties with me. I’m still not sure why the hell it went down the way it did. We played with Barbies all the way until fifth grade even though we swore we’d never tell another living soul and, honest to God, I questioned for months after she kicked me out of her life if it was some kind of Mattel-sponsored fury. I let Brylee in on our secret once, and I wondered if she said something. It was easier to try and blame Brylee for the split, all those years ago, especially since the only other alternative was myself.

“So”—I try to sound cheery—“you’ll never guess what I found the other day while digging in my jewelry box?” My throat constricts because I’ve said more words to her just now than I have in the last four years combined.

“Gold bullions?” She doesn’t bother with a smile, she just douses me with her death rays because, apparently, it’s par for the course.

My heart thumps. Neva just spoke to me directly, and it feels like a hard-won victory.

“It was that heart necklace we used to wear.” I touch my throat as if I have it on. “You know, the one that’s broken in half? Mine said ‘Best’ and yours said ‘friends?’”

“Yeah, I know.” She gets up and starts walking past me. “Why don’t you put it on and hang yourself with it?” she bleats as she takes off down the hall.

Ace appears in her place and frowns over at her until we hear the slam of her door. He reverts his attention and rakes over me with those soulful eyes—just a hint of sorrow layered underneath.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he rides his gaze from my head to my feet. “You look hotter than a Texas sidewalk. Get over here, girl.” He gives an approving grin as he wraps his arms around me.

His dark hair is combed back. He’s fresh from the shower with his minty breath, his crisp white T-shirt. I press his rock hard body to mine and linger a moment before pulling away.

“Neva might see,” I whisper. I wouldn’t put it past her to use this to hurt both Ace and me.

He ticks his head back toward his bedroom and leads me over. Ace shuts us inside without bothering to turn on the lights. He leans in and lands a hot kiss on my cheek before hitting pay dirt right over my mouth. I moan into the artful, lingual exchange. Ace knows just how to move his tongue to make me want to linger in this very position all night long.

My insides detonate. I’ve wanted this for so damn long, and now I’m dying because it’s too much to handle.

He pulls back and tracks his hot kisses down the side of my neck.

“I thought we were going to the boathouse?” Not that I care. I can have an orgasm right here on the spot—hell, I’m halfway there already. Screw the fact that Neva is in the next room daydreaming about me swinging from a tree by way of our friendship necklace. I’ve wanted Ace for so long he’s all I see, hear, and breathe.

“We are.” Ace runs his hands wild over my curves a moment before flicking on the lights.

A single white daisy has materialized in his hand, and he wears a bashful smile.

“I wanted to give you this first.”

My mouth falls open at his thoughtfulness. It’s perfect. A gift from Ace means miles more than anything Warren could ever gift me, more than anything I’d ever want from him.

“I love it.” And, I want to add,
I love you, too
. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Picked it myself.” His cheeks darken a shade. “You deserve about a dozen more.” He adds that last part almost as an apology.