Knee Deep (10 page)

I shuffle my way up the stairs to the kitchen. The clock reads just after noon. Wow. A shadow passes the kitchen door and someone’s knock makes me jump. My heart speeds. Who on earth would be here?

I slowly open the door. “Luke?”

“Hey.” His smile is easy and his hands rest in his front pockets. Ferris Bueller t-shirt today.

“Come on in. I’m about to make breakfast.” I open the door wider.

“Breakfast?” His brows go up. “It’s like, noon.”

“You’ve never had breakfast at noon?” I tease.

“Point made.” He grins.

“Everyone left early. I needed an alone day,” I explain. Something to make me feel like I’m getting my head back on straight.

“Oh.” His brows come together. “I’ll take off. I was just bored. Mom and Dad fought over me for Thanksgiving. He won, but he’s meeting some people for golf today.”

I know that Luke’s maybe part of my confusion, and why I need space, but he’s also the easiest person to be lazy with. And today, that’s exactly what I need. “I’m glad you’re here. Saves me from my circling thoughts.” I back up and step into the kitchen.

Luke follows, shutting the door behind him. “And what are your thoughts circling around?”

“Worried about Shawn. He hasn’t been himself.” I slide a bagel into the toaster and lean against the counter, still not sure if I want to see what’s in Luke’s eyes for a conversation like this.

“I’m sort of worried about him, and you, and…” His voice has this solemn tone I’m just not in the mood for, and his warm hand rests on my arm.

“Stop.” I jerk my arm back, and hold my hand between us. “The reason I’m letting you stay is so I don’t have to think about it.” But I have to drop my serious face or he’ll keep at it. Instead I smile, like I’m just teasing and we’re both just fine.

“Last night. Is that how he is with you?” Luke’s doing this kicked puppy dog, tilty-face thing.

“No. I haven’t seen him drink like that in a long time.” I shift my weight. “Can we be done with this?”

“I know his dad’s business isn’t doing as well as he needs it to, but Shawn’s dad being angry doesn’t make it okay for Shawn to hurt you.” Luke’s eyes are so intent, full of concern.

I take a hard swallow before finding my voice. “
Now
are you done?”

“Done.” He lets out what’s probably a frustrated sigh. “But, Ronnie? I’m not going to let it go.”

Perfect. “Luke, I need you to be my comfortable place, and—”

“And you really want me to drop it.” His arm reaches out like he’s going to hug me or hold me, but it drops back to his side.

“Thanks.” I really shouldn’t be wishing he’d take me in his arms. If I knew I could curl up on him, have him comfort me, and not bring it up again, I’d do it. But he
will
bring it up again.

I’m crazy.

I turn away from his brown eyes and slather cream cheese on the bagel as it burns my fingertips, still too hot from the toaster. Keeping busy seems like the best way to avoid. I hand one to Luke, avoiding eye contact, and start for the stairs. “There’s soda down here.”
Anything to prevent silence.

He steps down behind me and stops when he sees the sprawling mass of blankets spread over the floor. “What is this?” His brows pull in confusion for a moment, and a smile spreads. “Blanketopia.”

My heart jumps, and I spin to face him. That’s a me and Mindy thing. “How do you know about that?”

“You and Mindy used to keep some sort of notebook, and you guys told me.” He sits with his back against the couch, crossing his legs, making full use of the blankets and pillows spread out on the floor.

My chest tightens. This can’t be.
No one
knows about the notebook. “We told you about the notebook?” I wonder if I’ll be able to swallow my bagel?

He takes a big bite. “Yeah, but you never let me look at it.”

“Well…
no
.” Obviously. I chomp ferociously for a moment before getting the last of my bite down.

He’s watching me way too closely all of a sudden.

I want to shrink, hide, move, something. “What?”

“You still keep it, don’t you? Your yearly stuff—firsts and all that?” The mischievous look on his face makes my stomach sink.

“That’s a kid thing to do.” I grab the remote, turn on the TV, and take the biggest bagel bite I can fit into my mouth so I don’t have to talk.

“You two still have that notebook.” He chuckles. “I bet your firsts have
really
started to veer away from things like blanketopia.”

My cheeks redden.

“So, what was
your
thing this year?”

My eyes fix on the screen. “I told you. We don’t do that.”

“Come on.” His bagel hand rests on his lap. “Please?” He grins, batting his eyelashes, knowing he’s about to get his way.

Crap
. “My thing this year was to try out for theater.”

Silence.

His large hand rests on my shoulder. “And you did it. And look what happened. You’re the lead in a production that’s going to be absolutely incredible, in part because of you.” And now Romeo
must
be bleeding into this conversation because there’s no other way to explain how he’s looking at me. And I
must
be holding on to some of Juliet; otherwise I wouldn’t be feeling so warm and tingly with his hand on my arm.

I nod. And then the firsts start popping into my head, the ones I’m not supposed to be thinking about—the ones having to do with me suddenly liking Luke’s eyes on me, and the ones with bruises from Shawn. It all just feels spiraling, swimming, drastically out of control.

In thirty minutes we’re sunk low into blanketopia watching some movie from the eighties, and Luke and I are in that comfortable silence that comes with being long-time friends. His head rests on one stack of pillows, mine rests on another.

“I need to stretch out.” I slump down and straighten my legs out toward the TV. He does the same. If it were any other guy this would not be an okay thing to do while dating someone else, but it’s Luke. The guy I’ve known for years. The warmth of his body so close to me is comforting, nice. And with the stress of yesterday, exactly what I need. I must stop using
need
,
Luke
, and
weekend
in the same thought.

I turn slightly to look at him but our eyes meet, sending butterflies into my stomach, which is totally wrong, because it’s just me and Luke and he should NOT be giving me butterflies. Still, I can’t look away. Not from him. Not when his eyes are holding me like this.

I have never felt so naked. Not in the shower. Not for the doctor’s appointment Mom made me go to for birth control, and I don’t know how I feel about it. How I
should
feel about it. Probably I need to look away because when two people are looking at each other in the way Luke and I are…it’s just not good. I have Shawn.

Our eyes stay locked for another moment before I have to turn back to the movie. Am I seeing or feeling things that aren’t here? Or, are our roles in the play really just starting to mix with real life?

“Thanks for coming over,” I say, keeping my eyes on the TV.

“Thanks for letting me.” His eyes are still on me, and I have to look again. Part of me wishes, right now, that I could just fall. Just like Laura said I should do as Juliet. Only the part of me that wants to fall now
isn’t
Juliet. It’s Ronnie. I’m a horrible person for thinking this, especially when I already know my future, but Luke is so warm, so easy. His golden-browns are unwavering.

I close my eyes and think about what it feels like to kiss him as Romeo. What would it be like to kiss him as Luke? His fingertips would touch my chin spreading goose bumps and anticipation. He’d be as careful as he is while he’s Romeo, but after our lips brushed a few times, he wouldn’t be as careful. Wow. I’m sunk here.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I can’t let the thought or the imagined feeling of a kiss settle in too deeply, but it all floats in anyway. His cocky Romeo smile, the way our hands feel together, the way his lips feel on mine, so warm, so sweet…

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I make something that sounds like a strangled half-giggle. This is not something I can think about.

He scoots closer. Our legs touch. “I’m having kind of a crappy weekend. You don’t mind being next to me, do you?” he asks.

I need to scream.
Yes! Yes I mind being this close to you! I’m in love with Shawn! This isn’t fair to him! He’s going through so much!
“No.” I scoot over until our pillows are together. We’re touching from shoulder to toes.

And even though I slept in this morning, the stress of everything is wearing on me. Touching Luke like this should have me strung up high and tight, but it doesn’t now that we’re together. My body relaxes as the warmth of him seeps in. Luke is easy. The movie continues to play in the background as my lids get heavy. With the warmth of my blanket and Luke, and my massive blanketopia, I drift off to sleep.

My dreams float from the play to the beach. Romeo kisses my forehead and pushes the hair off my face. Then he just walks away. I don’t remember lying down in the play. I don’t know this part. And then the dreams disappear, leaving nothing but blissful blankness. When I wake up, Luke’s gone. The house feels stark and empty—kind of like I’m starting to feel. So hollowed out I’m not sure what’ll replace this empty feeling.

My senior year isn’t supposed to feel this confusing. It’s supposed to be the highlight of high school—me with the boy I’ve loved practically my whole life, enjoying the feeling of being on the edge of something great, amazing, life-changing. But it doesn’t feel like any of those things. It feels like I’m on a tightrope, just doing whatever I can to keep my balance. The problem is that it appears I really suck at it.

~ 12 ~

I WAS BARELY SIXTEEN…

…
and his apology changed my world.

Shawn’s mom drove back to visit us for a weekend. She hoped they’d be able to move back sometime over the next year. I think her and my mom conspired on that one for a long time.

As soon as he came in the door his arms were around me, parents forgotten. “Can we talk?”

“
We can talk,” I whispered back.

He took my hand and led me to the pool.

“
I’m not dating anyone or anything. I want you to know that. And when I talk to you, or see you, I don’t know why I ever even looked at anyone else.” His dark eyes held so much love it filled my chest to bursting.

“
You were right. We never talked about it.” And so it wasn’t even like I needed to forgive him. There was really nothing to forgive.

“
But you haven’t. Seen anybody?” His body moved closer, hoping for an answer.

“
Just for dances and group stuff.” I move my legs making swirls on the surface of the water.

“
Have you kissed anyone else?”

“
Spin the bottle at some party. That’s it.” I shrugged. Just my friend Luke. But I didn’t say that. Luke was Shawn’s friend, too.

“
I never want to feel another girl’s lips as long as I live.”

WOW. I leaned in toward him, hoping for a kiss.

He didn’t disappoint.

***

Shawn’s been drinking. The smell of beer hits me the second I step into his room Sunday evening. I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving night and the party at the beach. We haven’t even talked, just texted because he’s been at work.

Some people are all happy and giddy when they’re drunk, and some are like Shawn. His dark mood fills the room, making me heavy. Three days of doing everything in my power to relax and push off this weight, and just two steps from the hallway to his room, it’s all back…and then some.

I smile big—maybe I can push this away. Help him somehow. Was he like this all weekend? Drinking? “Hey, there.” How bad are things at his house? That has to be what’s going on. This tense, dark person isn’t Shawn.

“Yeah.” He pulls his can of beer to his lips and drinks a few long swallows.

“Your parents gone?” I ask.

His eyes finally focus on me. “Uh…
yeah
.” He holds up his beer can, eyes wide. I hate this expression—the one that makes me feel stupid.

“Right.” There’s no good place for my hands, or my body, and I’ve never felt so awkward in his room—like I don’t know where to be, where to sit, what to do. Some guy movie rattles in the background.

“Want one?”

“Maybe one.” I shrug. The chances of us having a nice hangout night are slim.

He reaches over the side of his bed and opens a can for me.

“Thanks.” I take a small swallow and set it on his side table.

“Come sit.” He pats the bed. His eyes are having a hard time focusing. “You shouldn’t just stand way up there.”

I sit, but I’m not sure how close I should be, or where I should be, and why did he have to be drinking tonight when we haven’t really seen each other?

“How’s the play going? With your other little boyfriend?” Even the edges of his speech are slurred. My stomach sinks.
Other little boyfriend?
Where did that come from?

“You’re it for me, Shawn. I love you.” I lean towards him, putting our faces close and trying to forget what it felt like to be this close to Luke on the floor of our beach house.

All I smell is beer, and I can’t really feel anything outside of being strung up tight, and attempting my desperate balancing act.

“Good.” He sets his beer down and kisses me. His mouth is rough and hard against mine. The prickles of his stubble burn my lips, but it doesn’t feel like he’s going to stop anytime soon. Doesn’t he feel that I’m only half here? Or worse, maybe he doesn’t care.

What will happen if I ask him to slow down?

My stomach tightens and I’m not sure I want to find out, which sends my body to the edge of something I don’t want to feel. Real fear, the kind that trembles knees and starts panic.

He pushes us over in his bed so that he’s on top of me. And normally this is okay, this is what we do, but the weight of him feels different. Forceful and sloppy. Scary.

“Just your panties off. Please?” he whispers.

My heart races. “You’re drunk, Shawn.” But I barely get out the words as his mouth comes down on mine again and again. I’m sucking in air every time his mouth moves, but the force of Shawn is stealing oxygen from my lungs.

His hands slide up my legs, under my long dress and tug on the top of my underwear.

No, no, no.
Not like this. “Shawn, I…”

He sits up and rips them off in one long pull. I’m so thankful for my long dress, keeping me from being even more exposed.

I sit up, my heart frantic. Is this what date rape is like? Will we just go all the way? Can I stop it?
Should
I stop it? Do I just get it over with? The thought of going all the way in his dim room with some stupid guy movie playing in the background makes my stomach turn. He’s not at all himself. Neither of us should want it like this, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop him. Do I just push away and run?

“Don’t worry.” His eyes still can’t stay still long enough to focus on mine. “I’ll be nice.” His fingers slide down my cheek like they always do. My body shakes in response, completely weakened by fear. He moves closer, scooting us together. His hand starts at my calf and begins to travel up the inside of my shaking leg.

“Please, don’t.” My words shake, my lips tremble, but I can’t make my arms push him away. “Not tonight.” I’m blinking back tears. What
is
this?

“Then what fucking night Ronnie! Huh?” He raises off me to slam his fist against the wall above my head.

“Whoa…” Luke steps in.

Shawn leans back and freezes. His jaw set.

“You invited me over for a beer?” Luke chuckles, doing an amazing job of diffusing. His eyes dart quickly between me—probably visibly shaking—and Shawn, wavering with drunkenness above me. I’m too relieved to be as humiliated as I’m sure to be tomorrow.

All I want is home. I gasp in air when my body realizes I forgot to breathe. My legs shake. My hands shake. My insides shake. My eyes aren’t working right either from disbelief, fear, or both.

“Ronnie looks beat. Why don’t we hang and play Xbox for a bit?” Luke leans down and gets a beer, but I’m sure he knows exactly what’s going on. He stands, rests his weight on one leg and takes a long swallow.

I run my hands down my dress to make sure it covers me, it does. I just want out. To be anywhere but here.

“Fine. Whatever.” Shawn glares at me as he waves his hand between us, like dismissing me from his presence.

I slowly stand from the bed, amazed my legs allow me to stand. Part of me wants to find my panties, but more of me just wants home.

“See ya.” I start to the door on trembling legs. But it’s not just my legs that are weak. My world is upside down. Now I get it. This is all too real to be real.

“Do I get a kiss?” Shawn’s wavering eyes find mine.

Luke’s hand carefully touches my lower back, out of sight.

“Let the girl go, she doesn’t want to play Xbox.” Luke laughs.

I make it to the door in two steps.

“Call if you need me,” Luke mouths.

I have no idea what I look like, but I’m sure it’s terrible. The room is blurry, the hallway and dark house fade in and out of focus as I head for the door and finally make it into the cool, night air.

I’m just waiting to get to my house, then I can crumple; just a couple more driveways and then I have safety.

I step inside my front door and the first sob hits my body as I suck in another breath, hand over my mouth.

“Honey?” Mom steps out of the kitchen. Her arms are around me in a minute. “Ronnie, what happened?”

I shake my head. There’s no talking about it. Not with them. Not right now.

My legs start to buckle and she grabs my waist, helping me to our living room.

Dad half catapults his chair at the sight of us. I sit on the end of the couch, pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms tightly around me. Smaller is better. Smaller is safer.

“Ronnie!” Mom’s voice sounds desperate as she kneels in front of me. “What happened?”

I shake my head.

“We need to know.” Mom’s face is close.

I can’t tell them. How do I start that conversation? It just surprised me. Shawn surprised me. But I wasn’t only surprised, I was scared. Shawn
scared
me. I choke back a few more sobs. The room refuses to come into focus. There’s one fuzzy blob that’s Mom, and one that’s Dad.

“Ronnie.” Dad sits close enough that I feel his warmth as he rests a hand on my foot. “You don’t have to talk, but I need to know if anyone’s hurt, okay? Do I need to call the cops or an ambulance or anything?”

I shake my head. No way.

“We
need
to know what happened,” Mom demands. I’m coherent enough to know Mom threw Dad a look as she made that comment.

My eyes widen as I look at Dad. I can’t tell them. “Let me go to my room.”

He reaches out and touches my foot. “Ronnie. Please stay here. You don’t have to talk.”

I nod. And part of me wants to be here in the living room, where it’s open, where I can breathe, and the other part of me wants to hide in the bottom of my closet.

My eyes close. I just need to learn to keep away from him when he’s been drinking. But I also need to keep away when he’s tense. And…it all seems so hard. But it’s Shawn. He’s everything—the warmth, and the sweetness, and the boy I’ve known since I was a kid. I can’t even
think
about what I’d do without that. Without him.

I squeeze my eyes tight in the corner of the couch and wish beyond anything I’ve ever wished for to fall asleep and forget.

***

I wake in the morning, still on the couch, to see a note from Dad on the coffee table.

If you need to talk, let me know. If you need to talk to someone who isn’t your mom or I, also let me know. No questions, promise.

Love you,

Dad

His few words bring last night crashing down on me, and the weight of the memories settles on my shoulders.

Who would I talk to? What would I say? Anyone who doesn’t know Shawn would just misunderstand. It’s temporary. He didn’t used to be so intense. He’ll mellow back out.

I stand in the bathroom, taking off my clothes from yesterday and of course I’m missing my underwear. It’s so weird, that whole thing.
So
weird. I spend a ridiculous amount of time in a hot shower and find my favorite t-shirt dress to wear to school. Last night is over. I’m okay. Everything’s okay. I need school. I need normal. But the reality of Shawn hurting me,
scaring
me, hits me again. I can’t even think about what would have happened if Luke hadn’t shown up.

That thought needs to be shaken off. It’s too big. Too much to think about.

My sandals squeak on the wood floors of the hallway as I make my way to the kitchen for breakfast. Right now I just hope my parents are gone for the day.

“I heard what happened at Shawn’s,” Mom says as I step into the kitchen.

My legs buckle, and I lean against the counter for support as my insides begin to break apart. Luke? It has to be. Shakiness is replaced by anger, he had
no
right. I’m going to kill him. I shove off the counter, my jaw tight.

“You could have told us, honey.” She clutching her mug as if it’ll hold her to the table—anchor her somehow.

I close my eyes, but that doesn’t help me block out the memory. I rub my hand over my face as if the friction or pressure will somehow make me feel normal again—rub away the anger and disbelief.

“If you need to take a day off of school, I understand.”

My cheeks redden. “I don’t need a day from school.” And I’m not sure why I’m fighting this.

“Well, Ronnie. Shawn’s been through a lot.” Mom’s voice is laced with impatience.

What? Shawn?

“With Diane kicking out his dad and everything. It’s so unexpected.” Her knuckles are white and I wonder if she’ll break her cup.

My eyes find Mom’s. And I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I have to hide my shock, because right now my parents think my freak out last night was for Shawn’s parents, not for myself. That’s
way
better. His parents split? No wonder he was so crazy last night. I bet he knew over Thanksgiving…and all I could think about was some time alone. He needed me, and I was trying to get away. Now guilt starts to ease into my chest, and if any more emotions hit me this hard today, I’m bound to explode.

I have to clear my throat twice before I find my voice. “Yeah.”

“He might really need you, honey. If you need to stay over there instead of school, it’s okay.” She’s still clutching her coffee cup with both hands.

How do I tell her I need school?
Distance
, even though it seems completely selfish of me. “We talked. I’m going to school.” I turn and walk out of the house before she can say anything else.

My mind is reeling. No wonder Shawn was so wasted. Why didn’t he just say? Maybe I could have handled something better? Different? Anyone would snap under that much stress. Poor Shawn. And once again, I feel like I’m abandoning him by going to school. I have no idea what to do because after last night, the last thing I want to do is see or talk to him—at least not for a while.

And there’s no way for me to even consider the long-term implications of me not wanting to be around Shawn. That’s shattering. Just, for right now, I need some space. That doesn’t mean we’d have to be over. Final. My heart’s starting to swirl as much as my head and my emotions are as lost as my thoughts.