Lunatic Fringe (20 page)

Lexie nodded.

“
Well,” Archer said, “not
all who see things are crazy.”

Lexie took a breath, wondering if that
made her feel better, and the answer was yes, a little bit better,
yes.

“
Can I offer you some
advice?” Archer asked.

Lexie nodded.

“
When you are confronted
with something that doesn’t make sense or a question you don’t know
the answer to, trying looking here.” She pressed her open palm
against Lexie’s sternum. The heat penetrated Lexie’s skin and freed
a tiny bit of the darkness that lurked there. “Thought follows
feeling, not the other way around. You’ll always know the answer
when you find peace within yourself.”

Archer and Lexie stood together in the
clearing, sharing their warmth.

“
What now?” Lexie
asked.

“
Up,” Archer gestured to
the cliff wall towering behind them. Thick sprigs of ivy clung to
its rough face, and gnarled brush pierced the rock in smatterings
of brownish-green.

“
What?” Lexie asked, with
an incredulous brow.

“
It’s not really climbing,”
Archer said. “It’s more hopping. Jumping. It’s easy, if you don’t
overthink it.”

Lexie’s brows raised high. She glanced
from the wall to Archer and back. “Seriously?” she
asked.

“
You said you were feeling
strong,” Archer said. “Prove it.”

Lexie shook her head.

“
Come on! Just try just to
get to that ledge there.” She pointed to a mossy platform jutting
out of the rock nine feet from the ground. “It’s essential for the
surprise.”

“
This better be some
surprise,” Lexie muttered.

“
Yep. Do it. You’ll love
the view.” She nodded to the ledge like there was nothing to
it.

Lexie turned to the rock face. She
could see more trees hanging over the edge, still high enough to
catch the setting sun’s light, when all around the river was
already in the gloaming. She edged back in preparation for a
running start.

“
Do you think I’m crazy?”
Lexie asked, already grinning like a lunatic as the adrenaline
coursed through her veins.

“
Let’s find out.” Archer
smiled wide as Lexie took her first bold steps into
irrationality.

Lexie trained her eyes on the ledge and
dug her feet into the soil, bending over like a sprinter placing
her feet before a race. She rubbed her hands together to draw blood
into them. She burst into a sprint and, defying all natural sense
of self-preservation, hurled herself onto the rock face, grasping
the first ledge with both hands. She pulled herself up to her feet
in one fluid motion, turned to her right and leapt again, catching
with her eyes, and then with her hands another grip higher on the
wall.

Using her momentum, she propelled
herself up now to the left, to reach the next jutting edge near the
top. On this ledge, she paused, looking at the top now only four
feet above her head. She set her feet, squatted deep and sprung
vertically to catch the ledge. Her torso had already cleared the
top when she realized her mistake of overshooting the handhold. At
the apex of her leap, she forced her feet forward to land on the
plateau. She landed heavily, and her weight shifted backwards into
the void. Each muscle struggled to restructure her center of
gravity; her lungs burned with the breath she had held since
leaving the ground. With a great jerk of her torso, Lexie flung her
arms forward, driving her body fully onto the plateau and crashing
onto her hands and knees. A sharp pain shot up from her kneecaps
while her hands drove deep into the rocky soil. The pain traveled
up the same routes that the pleasure from Archer’s touch had just a
few weeks and a few minutes before. Lexie used this pain to stand,
rubbing her injured knee. Perched atop the highest ledge, she
turned to look down at Archer, still on the ground
below.

“
Don’t look at me. Check
out the view!” Archer shouted.

Lexie obeyed. The wilderness spread out
below her in a verdant blanket. The last, molten curve of the sun
sank into the glittering ocean miles beyond, casting swathes of
magenta across the western sky. Backlit clouds stretched in long
wisps from the horizon. Inky purple battled deep orange for
dominion over the sky, with purple the inevitable conqueror. At the
deepening blue of zenith, the first planets and brightest stars
winked through the ragged remnants of the clouds. Lexie had to
struggle to catch her breath in the face of such grandeur, and
Archer’s words came to her with a newfound clarity: Not all who see
things are crazy.

A soft thump behind Lexie diverted her
attention from the splendid view. Archer brushed her bangs from her
eyes as she stood from a crouch.

“
How to you feel?” Archer
asked, stepping closer. Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, Lexie reached
her arms around Archer and pulled their mouths together. It was a
wet, vigorous kiss. Each nerve ending in her lips exalted in the
sensation. When they separated, Lexie blinked and asked, “Is that
weird?”

Archer tilted her head. “Is what
weird?”

“
Kissing me.”

Archer licked her lips. “It’s . . .
lovely. It’s delicious.”

“
Okay,” Lexie said, unsure
of the motivation behind her question, other than self-sabotage.
Had she killed the moment entirely? She looked away.

“
I like women, Lexie,”
Archer said, taking Lexie’s hand and squeezing. “Kissing you isn’t
‘weird’.”

Lexie nodded.

“
Is it weird kissing me?”
Archer asked, turning the tables on Lexie’s question and
discomfort.

Lexie shook her head, her hair flopping
over her shoulders like a hound dog’s ears. She shrugged, helpless
in her ambivalence.

“
Okay,” Archer said. “So,
we’re going to do it again. And maybe it’ll help you figure it
out.”

Archer pulled Lexie’s mouth to hers. At
first the kiss was soft and cozy, then a rod of heat spiraled up
Lexie’s spine. Her muscles tensed, and she gripped at Archer’s
hips, grasping bundles of flesh beneath flannel and denim. Lexie
opened her mouth to Archer’s kiss, their lips and tongues holding
onto one another, pulling slightly away, then crashing once
again.

Sparks sizzled down Lexie’s nerve
endings, tracing an intricate grid of sensation over her body. Her
blood surged in grand swells, and her lungs drew in all the oxygen
the forest had to offer. She grew drunk on Archer’s scent--all
mushrooms and musk, like soil after a heavy rain. Lexie wanted to
bury herself in the scent, to pull each particle into her body to
hold onto it for life.

Archer clutched Lexie’s body with all
her sturdy strength. Fingers pulling at hair, hands grasping necks
and hips and shoulders and faces, tongues grappling, and each
breath taking on a meaning of its own.

Then it was Archer’s turn to push her
away. “I want to show you what I made,” she said with flushed face
and swollen lips. “That’s why I brought you here tonight, not to
seduce you, though I’m pleased that it’s working out that
way.”

“
This isn’t the surprise?”
Lexie asked, gesturing to the splendid view.

“
This way.”

Archer leapt atop a rise of boulders
that stood at the cliff’s edge, carrying her twenty feet higher in
two bounds. At the apex of the pile, she aimed for the trunk of a
great cedar and leapt onto its lowest branch, disappearing into the
foliage. Her hair whipped behind her as if helping her balance, and
it was the only thing Lexie could see of her before she disappeared
behind the massive tree trunk out of view. Unsure of her footing
but riding the adrenaline that had carried her up the cliff face
and to Archer’s lips, Lexie followed Archer’s charge. The fading
sunlight spattered over the thick branches as through a shattered
window. At the third branch Lexie paused, waiting for Archer to
emerge and guide her for the remainder of the journey. When she
didn’t appear, Lexie closed her eyes and inhaled. Archer’s path
became as clear as a neon arrow, leading inwards. Lexie ducked her
head beneath a bough. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she
saw Archer standing on a great wooden platform. A hand-hewn
treehouse.

“
Whoa,” Lexie
whispered.

Archer’s mood softened. “Do you like
it?” she asked.

“
You built this?” Lexie
responded, incredulous.

Archer nodded.

Lexie’s eyes followed the familiar
curve of the wood. “Out of the tree that crashed into my
room?”

Archer nodded again. “I decided against
a roof. I thought it’d be nice to lay beneath the
stars.”

Lexie looked up, the clear purple sky
visible between the boughs. She examined the treehouse, running her
palms along the wooden planks. Her eyes shone with glee. The center
of the treehouse was one full disc from the crashed tree, six feet
broad, the rings tracing its centuries of life before the fall.
Wedges cut from the fallen oak branched out from the center like
spokes, with cut planks spanning the space between each wedge,
adding straight, bold lines to the pale, curved rings of the discs.
The whole platform, fifteen feet in diameter, rested between three
massive branches and the cedar’s trunk, perched like a lily pad.
Laying atop the center of the disc was the lambskin. Lexie rushed
to inspect it, shoving her hands into its fur, relearning all its
secrets, including those it had of her.

“
It’s the one from your
cabin,” Lexie said.

“
I knew how much you liked
it,” Archer replied with a wide grin. Lexie knelt and breathed
deep, soaking in the exceptional beauty of Archer’s
craft.

“
How did you do all this?”
Lexie asked, awe-struck.

Archer replied, wryly, “You spend your
days studying. I spend mine making stuff out of wood.”

“
I think you win,” Lexie
replied.

“
You like it?” Archer asked
with a sheepish grin.

“
Of course I do! How could
I not?”

Archer shrugged. “I so rarely
understand the tastes of women.”

The sun dipped beneath the sea, a gray
line barely limning the distant tree line. The disappearing light
dragged with it the color from the world. Lexie rose and pulled her
close by the hips, pressing her body to Archer’s. Lexie’s breasts
rubbed against Archer’s, with only the thin barriers of Lexie’s
t-shirt and Archer’s vest between them. Her hands dug into the
fabric of Archer’s jeans, firm flesh giving beneath each pressed
fingertip. Lexie’s breath quickened, and moisture rushed to her
mouth, armpits, and groin.

The treehouse swirled with their shared
scents. Each breath Lexie took drove her heart to beat faster.
Archer eased Lexie down to the lambskin, pinning her wrists above
her head. Lexie’s chest rose and sank like a felled buck struggling
through its last breaths. Each inhale flushed her body with more
sensation, more warmth, more pleasure, until she was so overwhelmed
she could no longer label what she was feeling.

Archer rose above Lexie, pulling off
Lexie’s t-shirt. The cool air rushed to envelop Lexie’s bare skin.
With one deft move, Archer unsnapped Lexie’s bra and pushed it up,
her mouth gliding over Lexie’s breast. Lexie pressed up into
Archer’s mouth, surrendering to the sensations. She luxuriated
under the weight of Archer’s body, the strength of her grip on her
wrist, the power behind her hips. The tiny hairs on her skin rose
to meet Archer’s touch, creating vapor trails of desire in the
space between them.

The pure pleasure was so intense she
lost her capacity for speech, but still her brain fought for
dominion. “Wait . . . I--”

Archer stopped. “What?”

“
I . . .” Lexie thought she
wanted to say that she shouldn’t. She thought she wanted to run,
like she did the morning at Archer’s cabin. It seemed like the
smart thing to do, even the right thing to do. But her back was
arched and her toes were curled, and all she really wanted was
Archer’s mouth on her neck, her hair draped across her breasts, her
hands . . . everywhere. What Lexie thought she wanted betrayed what
she actually wanted, which was to be exactly where she was at that
moment.

Lexie shut herself up with a kiss,
shaking herself free from the constraints of fear and judgment that
had stolen her focus. Archer responded by pushing back into her,
her hands gliding up and down her body, stroking her hair,
shoulders, breasts, abdomen, and hips. Archer danced her fingertips
across Lexie’s bare breasts. Tingles of delight scattered along the
surface of her skin, like minnows in a shallow pond.

Archer followed her fingertips with her
mouth. Lexie moaned, stretching to encourage sensation to travel
freely up and down her spine. The sound of her moan shocked her;
she’d never emitted such a sound before. Masturbating at home had
always been silent by necessity. Now, as each rotation of Archer’s
tongue around Lexie’s areola drove Lexie deeper into submissive
ecstasy, her voice fought to break free. Her own sounds of pleasure
excited her even more. Lexie’s jeans dampened, simultaneously hot
and cool.

The scent of Lexie’s desire filled the
air, eliciting an animalistic moan from Archer’s own throat as she
pressed harder against Lexie’s prone body. She bit on this tender
flesh; Lexie jerked at the mix of pleasure and pain. It reminded
her of her mother braiding her hair as a child, always just a
little too tight, a burning tugging at her scalp. Lexie responded
by grabbing a handful of Archer’s hair in her hand and pulling.
Archer’s neck arched, silhouetted against the darkening
sky.