Progress (Progress #1) (12 page)

“All around the country?”

“Everywhere.”

I smiled, closing my eyes and imagining him on the road. “Where was your favorite place?”

I opened my eyes and met his stare.

“I loved Colorado.” His eyes drifted from mine and he glanced up at the sky. “But Montana’s night sky is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I closed my eyes with him and pictured him in the bed of a truck on top of a blanket, eating a sandwich and watching the skies. “Mmmm.”

“If you think we can see a lot of them here, you should see them out there. I’ll never forget them.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’d just sit in the bed of my truck—”

“You had a truck?” My brow furrowed, realizing I’d already seen it in my head. A shiver ran up my arms, and my panic rose. “Was it red?” I asked hesitantly.

“Good guess.” He chewed his lip, propping himself up on his elbow and staring down at me. “How’d you know?”

I shook my head and sat up, quickly lighting another cigarette. “Just wanted to paint the scene, that’s all.”

A flicker of doubt crossed his eyes, but he nodded and dropped the subject.

“So how are you and Jake now? Are you two going to be okay?” I asked.

Bringing his stare back to the water, he shrugged. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. I can’t really hold it against him. I’ve done it to him before.”

“What?” I brought my palm up as a gesture for him to explain. “Friends don’t do that stuff to each other, Jess. What makes you think that’s acceptable behavior?”

“Friends don’t do what to each other?”

The sincerity of his naivety baffled me. “They don’t hit each other, for starters. And they don’t usually forgive each other that easily. They certainly don’t sleep with their friends’ exes.”

“Then I guess we’re not friends according to your definition.”

“
My
definition?” I gasped. “It’s a traditional definition. I’m not making shit up here.” I followed it up with a chuckle. “Look, when you’re friends with someone, the usual words that come up are respect, cherish, and in some extreme cases, love. Nothing about what happened between the two of you describes any of those things.”

“Not all friendships work the same. Some of us aren’t as fortunate to have experienced the kind you have. And to be quite honest, it’s a little too cheeky for me.”

“Cheeky?”

“Most people are dicks, Charlie.”

“No they’re not. Most people are good.”

He shook his head. “Have you really met that many good people in this world? Have they really shown you that they’re worthy of being called a friend?”

“Yes,” I snapped.

“How can you not see it? Look around you. We all treat each other like shit. We have children starving in Africa, dictatorships in the Middle East, we’re ripping apart the earth and raping our land with fracking, and racial and religious wars are killing thousands of innocent people. People are shit. Everyone is an asshole. We have it within our means to be nice, to give, to love, but all we do is go along in our blissfully ignorant lives thinking about whether or not we’re going to get a raise at our job for a lifestyle that’s already beyond privileged. Or if our roommates will catch us jerking off. Whether or not we have enough cash to scrape from our cars to buy a burger at McDonald’s. If Yellow Dye Number 5 is going to give our children ADHD. Or whether our kids will chase the ball too far into the street.” His hands flew up. “I mean, look at that, Charlie. Look at all that time. Look at all that privilege.” He slapped his hands down and took a deep breath. “Meanwhile there’s some eight-year-old girl in Thailand chained to a chair in a basement hoping the man that bought her won’t come downstairs tonight.”

After his rant, I continued to stare at him. His words reached into my chest and ripped out my beating heart. I wanted to wrack with sobs, hold him close, and tell him everything would be all right. That was someone else’s reality, not his. But for as overwhelmed as I was, I couldn’t help but feel like he was personally scolding me. How could one mind hold so much? How was it possible to think about all of these scenarios all of the time? How much hatred could one person hold?

“But with all the bad, you’re not allowing yourself to see the good—”

“The good? I don’t see the good because it isn’t there! Not one goddamned speck of humanity still exists in this place.” He lowered his voice. “There are only two people on this godforsaken planet who have shown me that good exists. And I’ve met a lot of people, Red. You are a dying breed.”

I cleared my throat, not understanding how the conversation took a turn. “Well, it’s just how I am. I see the good before the bad.”

“It’s pathological optimism. It’s naïve. And it’s going to disappoint you time and time again.”

“But it’s all I have,” I breathed. “I can either choose to think everyone is shit, or I can see everyone for who they are deep down. Everyone has good in them somewhere. Some just make it harder to find.”

“Or you can just realize the truth: that everyone will hurt you eventually and no one is truly worth your time.”

I closed my eyes briefly with a small laugh and lay back down on the beach. “Why expend the energy thinking about it? There’s already one Jesse Anders in the world. I think I’ll stick with my own theory.”

“Look,” he lay back down in the sand, “I’m not angry. It’s just a reality that a lot of people choose to ignore. But I see it. I see it everywhere. You need to put your guard up a little more often, because there’s a lot of sick shit that happens out there. You haven’t seen it yet because you live in a very small world. You haven’t allowed yourself to see it. I’ll bet you haven’t watched the news or read a newspaper article in years.”

I laughed. “You’re right. The news makes me sad.”

“It should.” He took a deep breath, exhaling his anger. “Don’t be so naïve, Charlie. Open your eyes and see what’s out there. The selfishness will give you a reality check. No one gives a shit anymore about the things that truly matter. They’re all self-contained, self-motivated, self-centered, and self-entitled. And it’s a defense mechanism hardwired into everyone in order to keep the pain away. They shut their eyes to it because they don’t want to believe that the monsters exist.”

“But is it really naïve, or is it just trying to build a life for ourselves? I mean, why wouldn’t we want to surround ourselves with the ones we love? Shouldn’t love always win?”

He turned to face me, a sadness in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. They glossed over momentarily before he sniffed and looked back up at the stars. “It would be a beautiful theory if you could prove love existed.”

I watched him closely, his eyes shifting from star to star. I
couldn’t
prove it. I could only feel it. “Things exist whether you want to see them or not.”

He smiled. “That’s exactly my point,” he whispered.

It was well after midnight and time passed too quickly. The girls had left the campfire a while ago, and the silence spread through the lake. It wasn’t eerie, though—not with Jesse at my side. I’d begun to enjoy our quiet way, both knowing our minds were spinning, but none of it worthy enough to spark a discussion. We weren’t going to see eye to eye on a lot of things, and I think most of our silence had to do with avoiding confrontation.

Just before dawn, the loons began singing and the light barely broke through the horizon. We’d gone through a pack of cigarettes, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling so relaxed with someone beside me, no matter how exhausted I felt.

I smelled like lake water and my hair frizzed from the humidity in the air, but I didn’t care. I was beyond my physical insecurities as we lay on the beach soaking in the ambience of the night.

But when Jesse’s stomach growled, I giggled. “Hungry?”

“Famished. You girls got anything to eat around here?”

“Nope. We catch our meals. There’s a fishing rod in the boat and fresh leeches in the fridge. Have at it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re shitting me.”

“Absolutely!” I laughed. “I’m sure there are some chips or cookies in the cupboard.”

The light from the sunrise lifted through the trees, and I couldn’t help but cringe at his swollen face. “Oh Jess, you should see yourself. You’re in rough shape. And what happened to your labret?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I’m pretty pissed. I don’t think I’ll be able to wear it again. It happened at the police station. A cop tried to pull some ninja move on me, and it got caught on his watch. Ripped it right out. I think there’s a trail of blood down my chin in my mug shot.” He laughed. “I barely remember it, but I can still feel my face hitting the concrete floor with my arm pinned to my back. That didn’t tickle.”

I tried not to laugh at the visual, but I saw it in my head. It seemed so far-fetched to have Jesse in a straitjacket—

“They wore face shields and put this weird contraption on me to keep me down.” He continued to laugh. “I thought the Hannibal Lecter mechanism was going to be wheeled out for me!”

I swallowed, realizing that he’d interrupted my thoughts describing the scene as I saw it in my head.

But how was that possible? I wasn’t there. I hadn’t seen it.

But somehow, I could.

How?

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.” I shook my head and twisted on a smile. “Let’s go get you some food.” Wiping the sand from my legs, I stood and turned toward the cabin.

“Hey, Charlie?”

“Yeah?” I stopped as I reached the grass and looked over my shoulder.

He took a handful of sand, letting it slip between his fingers before answering. “I have one more confession to make.” A shell rested in his palm and he examined it, keeping his head down.

I took a step toward him. “I’m listening.”

He looked at me briefly, smiled, and threw the shell into the lake. “I saw you last night.”

I tilted my head, needing him to finish before I understood. “When?”

“Coming out of the water.” He bit his bottom lip with a smirk. “Picking up your clothes and walking back to the fire.”

He stopped smiling when he saw my reaction.

Chapter Thirteen

Charlie

“You’re no one, Charlie Johnson. Nothing. You’re a waste of a human being.”

Not Jesse, dammit.

All of the air left my lungs and his words sat heavy in my stomach. I’d forgotten to take a breath, and my head spun from the implications of his possible thoughts. Now I was just waiting for the slaughter. Surely if Aaron Paulson had called me those hideous things fully clothed, Jesse would have something to say about seeing me without them.

My eyes squinted shut, and I watched myself walk from the water to the fire from a distance.
Oh God, Jess. Stop thinking about it, please!

“Whoa, Charlie. Are you okay?”

I inhaled deeply, the first breath I’d taken since he said it. But I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t allow myself to feel what he was feeling just then. It was too much.

Clutching at my stomach, I nodded, and walked briskly back through the yard.
Please don’t say it. Don’t say anything more. You mean too much already, and I can’t let you see me cry.

I’d ruined everything.

“Hey, Red. Wait up!” He jogged up to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I winced at the connection and flinched away from him.

“Hey.” He stopped, grabbing my arm. “What’s wrong?” His fingers touched my chin, lifting it up so my eyes could meet his, but I jerked my head away and kept them down.

“I’m sorry.” The instinct to apologize was always there. Especially for something so horrible.

“Why are you sorry?”

My nostrils flared and I wiped a spilled tear from my eye.

“Charlie!” He shook my shoulders. “Why are you so scared? What did I say?”

“I honestly didn’t have any intentions of you seeing that. I can’t believe you’re still here.” I sniffed and looked up at him. “Why? After all that. Seeing me naked, talking with me all night. Why are you still here?”

He looked past my shoulder, trying to piece together my thought process. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Nothing.” I began walking again. “Never mind.”

“Jesus, Charlie. Stop!”

I ignored him and slammed the screen door as I entered, jogging to the bathroom.

I locked myself in and sat on the lidded toilet for several minutes, bawling into my hands and making myself as small as possible. The screen door slammed again, and I knew Jesse was inside the cabin. A shadow under the door caught my eye and I hurled myself to the shower, stripped my clothes, turned on the water, and closed the curtain to avoid him.

When I looked at the door again through the shower curtain, the shadow was gone.

Scrubbing my skin, I tried to view my body in a different way. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I’d kept it so well hidden for so many years, but it only took one stupid night of drunken idiocy to destroy my best-kept secret.

I was gross. I knew it. But I didn’t want Jesse to know it.

The one person in the world who I never wanted to see it, and he saw. And he hadn’t run away screaming.

I watched the berry-scented shampoo swirl into the drain, remembering the moment he must have seen me. I saw it in his mind, or maybe I was so far removed from myself in that moment that I saw it the way I wanted. The light was barely present and he stood back by the cabin, giving him a glimpse of my bulbous silhouette.

I’m beautiful.

I’m beautiful.

I’m beautiful.

I’m beautiful.

Dammit. That didn’t do shit.

After drying myself off, I took the damp towel and smeared the steam from the mirror. No part of my face could be recognized in the peach blur—an indistinct hazy cloud. Nothing of consequence. It was strangely comforting. Probably because I knew I had nothing to offer him in my reflection and that my only gift to the world was my mind and my compassion.

But if I had any optimism about Jesse finding me attractive in any way, that had gone to hell.

I didn’t bother with makeup that morning. The time for false beauty had come and gone. No amount of weight loss, hairspray, or skin-tightening lotion would win him over. It was all pointless.

I put my old clothes back on and wrapped a towel around my head. The smell of bacon came from outside the door, and I walked out with as much of a smile as I could give.

Karalee sat at the kitchen in her pajamas and fluffy slippers, and Jesse hadn’t seen me walk out; he was preparing a pot of coffee.

“G’Morning, sunshine! How did you sleep?” Karal asked.

Jesse swung around, anticipating my answer, and watched me with concern.

“Um. We haven’t slept yet. I’m going to go upstairs and get some different clothes on. The bathroom is free if anyone needs to shower,” I mumbled.

I climbed the stairs, each step more difficult than the one before, and threw my suitcase on the bed. Digging out an old white T-shirt, I slipped it on along with a baggy pair of jeans. Without checking the mirror, I threw a bandana over my hair.

Angie sat up in her bed, startling me. I hadn’t realized anyone was in the room with me. “Is he still here? Did you fuck him?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Knock it off, Angie. Yes, he’s still here. And no, I didn’t fuck him. The thought never entered his mind.” I walked down the steps whispering, “And it never will.”

I tried not to make eye contact with Karal on my way out the front door, but she followed me anyway. Thankfully Jesse was in the shower, so I was able to avoid the punch to my gut by looking at him.

I lit a smoke the second I walked outside.

“You’re quiet this morning,” Karal said from behind me.

I stood in the grass in front of the porch, and Karal had herself propped against the railing.

“I’m not feeling so great. Just tired, I think.”

“I call bullshit.”

I shook my head, trying to smile. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now. It’s been a long night.”

“All right.” She narrowed her eyes. “I understand.” She tilted her head to the side. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Oh God, no. Not at all, honey.” I took a deep breath. “I’m just tired.”

She turned back toward the door, but stopped just before opening it. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

“I know.” I nodded. “Thank you.”

Without any sleep, and the emotional turmoil of the past half hour, my body slowly began giving up the fight to stay awake. I never knew exhaustion like I had since I’d met Jesse. He was one hit after another to my psyche. And the further down my cigarette burned, the more I thought about how what had happened the night prior would affect our friendship.

I told myself over and over to let it go.

To be strong.

That it didn’t mean what I thought.

That his eyes hadn’t been tainted.

That I wasn’t scared or embarrassed or horrified.

And that he’d seen hundreds of naked women—perhaps I was no different.

But I couldn’t be strong. I couldn’t bear that façade. Not after being awake for twenty-four hours and spending twelve of them with a man who made my head spin just by being next to me.

“I brought you some coffee.” His voice was low and quiet, and shot pure adrenaline straight to my chest. I whipped around, scared by his voice, and gasped when my eyes met his.

His hair was wet, his eyes pink with exhaustion, and the same T-shirt he’d worn the night before hugged his chest. Maybe it was the fact that I’d spent the night with him under a blanket of darkness that made it easier to be with him, and now that it was light I felt exposed. Maybe it was the knowledge that after what had happened, he was still able to look at me and talk to me without cracking a joke about my weight. But I knew at that moment that there was no way I’d ever be able to look at that man and expect a different reaction from myself: my heart jumping and my gut fluttering.

He was perfection.

“Two creams, one sugar. Karalee told me.” He offered me the cup.

“Thanks.” I stomped out my cigarette and took the cup from his hands.

“I...um,” he began, pausing to shove his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what happened this morning, but I want to talk to you about it.”

“Please, Jess. Don’t.”

His shoulders drooped and his eyes begged me to speak. “I didn’t mean to look. I promise. I’d just gotten here and I was looking for you. I had no idea you’d be…” he shrugged, “…naked.”

I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut. “Please! Just stop thinking about it. This is so fucking embarrassing.”

“But I don’t understand why it’s such a huge deal. It’s not like I walked in on you humping a pillow or jerking off a dog. You were just walking out of a lake.”

Trying not to smile, I glanced up at him. “No jokes, please. I can’t expect you to understand. If you’d lived the life I have, you’d get it.”

“That explains nothing, Red. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

I shifted my weight, tilting my head to the side. “I’m not mad at you. It was an accident. It’s not the fact that you showed up here unexpected that bothers me. It’s just that we...” I stopped, not knowing how to phrase it. “You and I are good together. Perfect. I felt good about myself when I was with you.”

He walked down the steps, stopping a few feet from me, and lowered his voice. “And now?”

I cleared my throat, fighting my quivering chin. “And now I’m gross again,” I whispered.

His eyes widened in realization, and he took a step back. Looking out into the trees, he scratched his head. “Can I tell you something?”

I nodded, but he didn’t see me.

He continued anyway.

“I have a really shitty memory. But in the past few months, since I’ve met you, things have gotten clearer for me. I remember the first time I saw you. I remember our first conversation. I even remember what you were wearing when we stayed up all night at the park.” He walked over to the porch and took a cigarette from my pack and lit it. With the smoke swirling around him, he continued. “That doesn’t happen with me often. And last night, I had the cab drop me off a block away from here, hoping that the headlights didn’t give me away. I wasn’t sure if I wanted you to see me—”

My jaw dropped. “You took a cab! Jesus, how much did that cost you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Never mind that. Let me finish.”

I nodded. “Finish.”

He exhaled. “When I’m around you, you make everything lighter. You have this ability to take half the weight from my shoulders. The pain is a little easier to manage. I don’t know how you do it, but you do. And last night, I just wanted to be near you. When I walked up to the cabin, I still hadn’t decided whether or not I was going to let you know I was here. It was enough for me to know where you were. And every step I took toward this house made my life easier. Better.”

I couldn’t stop my tears from dropping, but I remained silent.

“And when I finally saw you, you were different. No,” he laughed, “not just because you were naked. But because whenever we’re together you’re always wearing baggy clothes, blushing, keeping your head down, and covering your mouth when you laugh. Last night, you’d changed. You were confident. Happy.” He swallowed thickly, hesitant to say the next words. “And I’ll be honest with you, Red. If no man had ever noticed how beautiful you were before yesterday, he would’ve been on his knees last night—in a second—begging for a night with you.”

I covered my face, trying to calm my tingling fingertips, and turned away from him to hold my stomach. I paced along the grass, trying to compose myself and fighting the instinct to run away. I probably looked like a crazy person.

“I’m sorry,” he added. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. But I have a feeling you needed to hear it more than I needed to keep it for myself.”

“Please, stop talking,” I managed to say. I was grateful, overwhelmed, and petrified. “I can’t hear any more, I’m sorry,” I cried, walking up the steps and back into the house.

I ran through the kitchen, passing Karal and Angie but not bothering to speak. If they knew what was best for everyone, they’d pretend they never saw me. Thankfully, they let me pass and run upstairs to the loft.

I shoved everything in my suitcase, zipped it, and hauled it downstairs. With glossy red eyes, I set my stuff down in front of Karal and gave her a hug, then did the same to Angie. “Thank you. I’m going to go now.”

“You haven’t slept!” Karal said. “Are you sure you can drive? Maybe you should lie down for a few hours before you leave. Rest.”

“Yeah,” Angie cut in. “What’s the rush?”

“Too much fresh air. Too much—”

“Too much Jesse?” Karal said, nodding in understanding. “At least grab something to eat for the road. And there’s pop in the fridge. Take some caffeine.”

“I’ll get it,” Jesse’s voice called from behind me as the screen door shut behind him.

I stood frozen as he gathered sodas and a bag of chips and tucked them under his arm.