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Authors: Anyta Sunday

rock (6 page)

BOOK: rock
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mudstone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

White water rafting is terrifying. I’m being knocked around like a lollipop in a piñata, and for whatever goddamn reason, I’m hooting like I’m having the time of my life. The complexities of the mind: I will never understand it.

Our boat bounces over the rapids, swinging wildly. I clutch the paddle against my lap so I don’t lose it again. At the front, Annie and Dad are laughing like wet hyenas, while Lila and our guide are enjoying an amused silence. Jace looks like he’s going to be sick. Every time we’re close to a rapid, his posture stiffens and his eyes shut like he wants it to end.

The boat dips abruptly, bashing me against Jace’s side. I grab his lifejacket so he doesn’t tip overboard. Another wave lurches into the boat, drenching Jace’s swimming shorts.

“This is it,” he mutters. “I see the news already. Seventeen-year-old boy drowns on the Waikato River.”

“Sixteen. Birthday isn’t for another month.”

He pinches my thigh and I yelp. At least he’s smiling now.

The rapids calm and we’re back to paddling. Jace asks how much longer until the campsite, and Dad’s answer elicits a groan. I chuckle at his whininess.

“Don’t worry,” I tell him with a cocky smirk. “You can hold my hand.”

Annie and Lila laugh, which is the first time I’ve ever heard them laugh at the same time. Shockingly, they share an almost-friendly glance.

“This was a great idea,” Dad says with a large inhale. “Fresh air and exercise. And look at the beauty.”

Dad’s right. The deep-turquoise water glows and its surface shimmers gold under the sun. A hint of a breeze protects us from overheating. Like Dad, I breathe in the smell of the river, the sunscreen, and all the good moods around us. Save Jace’s, of course.

When the next rapid approaches, we pull in our paddles. Jace grabs the back of my hand and curls his fingers through mine, clutching tightly.

I stare at our hands on my thigh.

“You volunteered.” Jace’s grin instantly disappears as our raft bobs and twists.

This time, the Level 4 white-water waves exhilarate me, but the heat of Jace’s palm and his sharp nails scratching into my skin excite me more.

The rapid lasts forever, yet it feels like the shortest bloody rapid there ever was.

When it ends and Jace pulls away, I tell myself I’m glad it’s over.

But you liked it. You really liked it.

Leave me alone!
Jace is practically my stepbrother.

It’s not as though you’re actually related.

He’s also a boy.

Come on, I thought we were past this.

I’m quiet the rest of the day until we return to the campsite. After I help pitch the tents, I decide to bugger off on my own.

I find a cozy nook downstream that has its own riverbed, a small half-moon of pebbly shore. The stones hold the warmth of the day’s heat, and I lie on them like a starfish to soak it up.

I empty my mind by thinking of nothing at all. I snatch up the first stone I find and drain all my negative thoughts and feelings into the stone.

Annie finds me an hour later. “What’s up, bro?” She sits next to me and gently peels my fist open. “That’s pretty with the white layers,” she says.

I sit up and look at it for the first time. Beautiful, smooth and curved like the nook we’re sitting in or Cheshire Cat’s mysterious smile. Did the secrets I poured into it make it appear that way? “Mudstone, I think. With a tiny quartz vein, see?”

“Looks too nice to be called mudstone.”

“Mudstone comes in lots of colors and shapes. Makes up sixty-five percent of sedimentary rock.”

“Hmm,” Annie says. “Anyway, dinner’s ready. I was sent to drag you back.”

“What is it?”

“Couscous.”

“What’s up with you?” I lean an arm against her shoulder.

Her straggly wet hair presses against my skin as she rests her head on me. “I’m stubborn,” she says quietly.

“You can say that again.” I press my forehead against the top of her head to let her know I love her anyway.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

She starts to cry. Small wracking sobs that jerk her body.

“Hey, hey,” I say, desperately trying to think of calming words. “It’s not too late to make a change.”

“B—but I can’t. I’m a big bitch and I can’t help it.”

“You’re not a
big
bitch.”

Annie giggles, which soon turns into hysterical laughter. Her eyes are shut tightly, her nose squishes as laughter peels back her smiling lips, and tears stain her red cheeks.

I clutch my stone and Annie’s laughter echoes in my hand. I know I’ll feel it every time I touch the stone in the future.

Annie’s laughter finally fades and she tilts her head at me. “I’m going to stop being a bitch. I don’t want to screw up any more of my relationships.”

“Any
more
?” I sense a story here.

She laughs again but it’s a pained one. “Boyfriend dumped me. Said I was too passive-aggressive and bitchy. I wish I hadn’t lost my virginity to him. Oh well. Better now than at university next year, I guess.”

“Sorry. That sucks.” This chat is quickly moving into awkward territory.

She doesn’t seem to feel the weirdness because she keeps going. “Here’s a tip for when you get a girlfriend: don’t dump her two days after taking her flower. Don’t take it in the first place.”

I’m quiet. Too quiet, apparently. Annie sits up suddenly and I have to fight to maintain focus on my Cheshire stone.

“Cooper?”

I pick myself up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She doesn’t take the bait. “Cooper—”

“Dinner’s ready, right?”

She lifts a hand and I pull her up. She tightens her grip when I’m about to let go. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here if you need advice or someone to talk to.”

I force a grin. “Look at that. You’re changing already.” With an arm around her, I walk us back to the campsite.

 

* * *

 

After Dad’s lame attempt at spooking us with ghost stories, we retire to our tents. At Dad’s request, we pitched them with enough distance to quarantine Lila’s snoring. This is a joke between them but out here in the bush it’s taken seriously. I think Dad better watch his back.

In our corner of the campsite, Jace unzips our tent and holds the flap open for me. I bend over and drop to my knees inside the stuffy tent. Our sleeping bags are already unrolled so I set the torch to lamp mode and place it at the end of the tent, between our two sleeping mats.

Jace hooks his fingers under the hem of his T-shirt and peels it off. His chest is lightly tanned and tapers gently to his hips. He pulls at the few hairs he sports and grins at me. I jerk my attention to my bag and pull out a sleeping shirt. I’ll wear the boxers that I changed into earlier.

“You got any noteworthy hair yet?” he asks.

Other than my crotch, I’m smooth. “Nah,” I say and duck out of my shirt.

“It’ll get there. Your voice has broken already.”

“Is talking about puberty a fun conversation for you?”

He laughs and I shove on my sleeping shirt.

“We’re friends, remember,” he says. “We can talk about any shit we like.” My back’s to him but I know he’s waggling his eyebrows. “The more uncomfortable, the better.”

I have a feeling I’ll need my stone tonight, so I take it out and climb into my sleeping bag.

Wriggling onto my side, I slide my hand with the stone under the pillow. Jace is yanking at the zipper on his sleeping bag. Finally it gives and he draws it up halfway and lays on his side, facing me in his threadbare blue T-shirt.

“You start then,” I say. “With the uncomfortable shit. What about past or present girlfriends?” I hold my breath as soon as I’ve asked. Why do I care?

I don’t.

Well, in a friend way I do.

“What makes you think I’ve had any?”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” I ask.

He blinks and it’s hard to tell in the crappy lamplight but he might be blushing. I enjoy this thought until I realize the implication of my question.

“I mean—”

He chuckles. “Thanks, Cooper. You’re going to knock the girls off their feet too, soon as you have a few hairs on that chest.”

I rub the stone.

Jace rolls onto his back. Leaves from a low-hanging branch make the shadows on the tent’s ceiling dance. The river babbles in the distance. “I met this one girl at Darren’s last party—”

“What party?” I ask.

“Last weekend when you were at your mum’s. Anyway, she likes me. She’s a tall blonde with green eyes like—” I still. Like what? “Granny Smith apples,” he says finally.

“That’s—” Lovely? Great? Wonderful? Why don’t they run off and make some precious green-eyed babies already! “—that’s precise.”

He hums. “Yeah.”

“What’s her name?” I wonder if I sound too bitter.

“Susan.”

“She’s in your grade?”

He nods. “Not in my classes, though. Probably why I haven’t noticed her.”

“Is she as well-endowed as the pics in your magazines?” I definitely sound too bitter.

Jace faces me. “Why are you still upset about those magazines? Everyone jacks off to porn.”

“I don’t.”

Jace frowns for a moment then nods. “I told you you’re welcome to—”

“I don’t want your crusty magazines.”

He laughs. “I guess that is a bit gross. I can get you something fresh if you want. A few good online sites maybe?”

I want to knock my head against something hard. “No, it’s . . .”
You really going to spill those beans here? While you’re alone in a tent you have to share?
“Nothing. I’m good with the shower. Easy to clean.”

“You’re missing out. I have this lube—”

“Lube?” This comes out a yell and I slap a hand to cover my mouth.

Jace snorts. “You’re fun. I can teach you so much. When you’re fucking your fist with this lube, it feels so slick it has to be close to the real thing.”

“Let’s stop this conversation.”

“You getting hard thinking about it? Me too.”

I look down at the gentle rise of his sleeping bag—

“What about you?” he asks, tucking his hands behind his head. “Any girlfriends? Crushes?”

Saying no would feel like I’m admitting something so I nod instead. “Sure. Plenty.” That should be enough to take the heat off.

And it does.

But I don’t feel relieved. I feel like the biggest chickenshit ever.

 

* * *

 

When Jace finally drifts off, I crawl out of my sleeping bag, grab the light, and tiptoe to Annie’s tent. I tug her foot and whisper until she stirs.

She gives a small jerk when she sees me, but quickly pulls it together.

We sneak to the edge of the river where cold stones sink under our feet. Moonlight reflects on the water, and the bush looks like it’s painted navy-blue.

Annie shivers. I wish I’d brought us a blanket—

“Wait a sec,” I rush back to the campsite, sneak back into my tent and slide out the sleeping bag.

“Here,” I say to Annie, unzipping the bag. “We can huddle in this.”

Our feet are still cold but our shoulders are covered comfortably.

“It feels different out here at night.”

“Still. Quiet. Like a suspended breath.”

“Nice.”

She nudges her foot against mine. “Why are we out here, Cooper?”

“Have you ever felt so full of thoughts you think you could burst?”

She leans between her feet and picks up a stone. “When Mum first told me Dad was leaving us. All the anger, the questions, and that damn feeling of inferiority pounded in my head. I thought all you’d have to do was pull out a needle and prick, and I’d deflate until nothing was left. Sometimes I wished it too, so that I didn’t have to feel sad anymore.”

I wriggle my toes against the arch of her foot. “I feel like that right now,” I say. “Angry, loads of questions, inferior. But also . . . butterflies. I’m totally excited but I hate that I’m excited. Hatred might be the biggest part of what I feel—”

“Cooper! Please, the suspense is killing me. Just—”

“I’m gay.” I wait a second to let it sink in. “That’s why there won’t be any future girlfriends.” Why I don’t care for Jace’s porn collection. Why I can’t tell him all the uncomfortable shit.

Annie chuckles and says quietly, “That
is
exciting, Coop. You should let yourself be excited. Life has plenty of other problems to worry about, so don’t let that be one of them.”

BOOK: rock
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