Taking Flight (26 page)

I laughed and pulled her down onto the blanket with me, and she grabbed one of my hands with both of hers and studied my fingers. I grinned at her as she played with my hand and turned to look up at the stars.

“Imagine if we were the only two people in the world,” Cammie mused. “Every day would be like this.”

“You’d get lonely,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t be enough.”

“But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about what anyone thought about me.”

I rolled over onto my side, and she released my hand as I looked at her. “You can do that now.”

“Can’t,” was all she said.

I propped myself up on an elbow. “I’ve been talking to your dad about the way I grew up. I told him I feel vulnerable when I get close to people. I meant that I feel vulnerable around you, of course… but anyway, I think you grew up learning to keep up appearances the same way I learned that getting close to people gets me hurt. I’m trying to undo my parents’ damage. Maybe you should try to undo yours.”

“I know.” She reached out and caressed my cheek with her hand. “I want to.” Her palm drifted across my lips and I kissed it. We were silent for a while, just watching each other while crickets chirped and the wind rustled the trees around us. At last, Cammie shifted closer to me until our noses were touching, and moved her hand to my thigh. “I’ll start here,” she murmured.

“Me too.” And, mind buzzing, I closed the gap between us

There was something different about this time, and I knew immediately that Cammie realized what this was. I often forgot when I was with her that she was experienced; that she may have not been with a girl before, but she was still familiar with sex. I was determined to make this different; like a new first time.

I was kneeling above her within a minute or two, and she wound her arms around my back and urged me closer, her mouth on my neck and my hands pressed into the blanket on either side of her head. When she pulled away and rested her head on the blanket again, I stared down at her, breathing heavily. She reached up to run her thumb over my bottom lip, eyes hooded. I swallowed hard, and then broke eye contact with her to watch my own hands reach down and tug at the hem of my tank top. Once it was up and over my head, I shivered and covered my exposed chest. “God, it’s cold.”

“I can tell,” Cammie whispered, grinning.

“Don’t make fun of my boobs,” I hissed. She just giggled and pulled me down for another kiss.

The jokes stopped there. Cammie reached down mid-kiss and fumbled for the waistband of my pajama bottoms. I broke our kiss abruptly, but she reached up with her free hand and pulled me back down for another kiss, her hand on my neck. I broke the kiss again to insist, “Cammie, you first.”

“Why?” she whispered, other hand still dancing along my waistline. I stiffened, and she moved her hand away, then cupped both of my cheeks instead. Eyes on mine, she whispered, “Let me. You don’t always have to be in control.”

I stared back at her, heart pounding hard in my chest. I knew exactly what she was asking. I’d let other girls do what they wanted to me before; I had no qualms with that. But it was different with Cammie.

“Okay,” I stuttered at last, and she rolled us over so that she was over top of me, kissing me deeply. When we parted, she hovered over me on her hands and knees, eyes raking down my body. Very quickly, I felt overexposed.

“You’re gorgeous,” she told me. “And I love you, even if you never say it back. I love you.”

She kissed my cheek, my jawline, and then down my neck, lower and lower, and I closed my eyes and reached down to take her hand in mine.

Maddie’d called it the leap of faith. David had called it opening up.

I took the plunge.

“I love you too, Cammie.”

She paused, mouth on my collarbone, and then pulled away to look at me. I opened my eyes. Hers were alight despite her darkened irises, and as I watched, a slow smile spread across her lips. She leaned down to kiss me again, all traces of her smile gone by the time our lips touched, and I pulled her close and kissed her fervently, acutely aware of her hand as it brushed back down my stomach toward my waist.

This time I didn’t stop her.

Chapter Eighteen

“Scott came up to me today.”

I looked up from the magazine I’d been reading. It was an old one of Cammie’s I’d found in her closet. She was on her bed, Bible in hand. We’d been reading to pass the time until her family went to sleep.

I raised a questioning eyebrow, and she elaborated, “He knows we’ve been sneaking out, like, every night this week.”

“Oh.” I hid a smile at the reminder, and she buried her face in her Bible, most likely to cover a blush. I hadn’t been able to get the image of her in the moonlight out of my head since that first night together. “Wait… does this mean we’re staying here tonight?”

“Yeah. I told him we’ve been going stargazing.”

“And he believed that?”

“I think so.” She avoided my eyes. “I’m not sure my dad would, though.”

“He wouldn’t. He knows about me. You see the way he’s been looking at us lately, right?”

She didn’t respond at first. But when she did, her voice was quiet. “Yeah.” I waited for her to say more. “My mom’s got like this massive list of her friends’ sons and boys from our church waiting for me.”

“Is it tempting?” I asked her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear her answer.

She looked offended, to my surprise. “Of course not. It’s just… easier.”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “Coming out to my dad, though? My brother? They’d be hard enough, let alone my mom.”

“Not as hard as getting married on someone else’s terms.” I paused, hesitated, and then added, “Just ask your brother.”

She looked up at me with surprise. “My brother?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

*  *  *

“We are gathered here today to join Scott Marshall and Jill Stephens in holy matrimony.”

I watched Scott carefully as the proceedings wore on, half-wishing Cammie wasn’t busy being a bridesmaid so I didn’t have to sit alone with David and Wendy. Several members of the Marshall family had flown in, as well; just on my other side were two sets of grandparents that practically refused to acknowledge my presence. I was sure I was only sitting with the family of the groom in the first place so that David could easily keep an eye on me.

Scott didn’t look away from Jill throughout the rest of Pastor Mckinley’s speech, and it was easy to see that he loved her. But his body was tense and I wondered if I was the only one – bar Cammie, of course – who could see how uncomfortable he looked. He was only twenty years old. He was
so
young. And I knew he didn’t feel ready to be married or have kids.

Cammie and I made eye contact across the room and I watched her swallow hard. She glanced from me to Scott, and then back again, and I could see the worry on her face; could see exactly what she was thinking: “This could be me.”

When the wedding itself was over, everyone headed out to the Marshalls’ farm in droves for the after-party. Cammie and I had helped Wendy set everything up earlier in the day. Soon, the normally-quiet house was packed with several dozen people, and even though Scott and Jill’s wedding had been relatively small, it was still hard to get any privacy.

I caught Cammie in the Marshalls’ walk-in pantry eventually. She was getting silverware for Wendy and looked drained. “Are you okay?” I asked her.

“I’m fine,” she replied shortly, and hurried past me, accidentally bumping my shoulder a little roughly on her way. I sighed as I watched her go. I understood that she was stressed, but I still wished she’d talk to me. I wanted to know exactly what she was thinking. Watching Scott get married seemed to have jarred her a little.

When I got back to the living room, I saw Jill was occupying a group of at least eight women with the story of how she’d met Scott, but I couldn’t find Scott himself anywhere. Then I noticed the backdoor had been left cracked open.

I wandered out to the barn in heels, avoiding mud along the way, and peered inside once I’d reached it. Scott was sitting on one of the bales of hay, a glass of champagne in his hand. He was alone.

“Hey. Looks like you kind of ditched your own party,” I said by way of greeting.

He forced a laugh. “Yeah. I’m hiding. Can you bring me more alcohol?”

“You’re under-aged,” I joked, but that seemed to upset him. He frowned and set his glass down.

“God. I am. I can’t even legally drink alcohol and I’m married.”

“At least you two love each other,” I said. “Look. Jill cares about you a lot. If you tell her you want to slow down, I bet she would.”

“It’s not about her,” he replied. “It’s Mom.
She
won’t understand.”

“Maybe she’s not as bad as you guys think she is,” I proposed. “A little controlling and uptight, yeah, but she cooks you dinner and asks you how your day was and hugs you and tells you she loves you. That’s something. You and Cammie don’t realize how good you have it.”

“Cammie?” he echoed, confused. “Cammie loves Mom. They get along great.”

“So do
you
and your mom,” I pointed out. “You get along great because you’re never honest with her. She signed up to have kids, you know. I think when people do that, they should be willing to support and love them no matter what.”

“I’m not putting the brakes on this,” he declared, shaking his head. “I just have to do it. I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“Then this is the one I’m making.” He picked up his glass again and downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. I watched him sadly as he set it down and looked back at me. Suddenly, he was curious. “Cammie never went stargazing before you showed up, you know. Not like she does now, anyway. She likes that clearing because she’s always liked having time to herself. Now I never see her go out there without you, and you’ve only been going in the middle of the night lately.”

I felt a flush crawl up my cheeks. “I guess I got her into it. I’m big on Astrology.”

“Astronomy,” he corrected, and I could see that he’d stiffened.

“Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

He studied me. There was a long pause. “…You’re lying, aren’t you?”

I could feel my face turning redder. “I—”

“You two are inseparable. You’ve been going out alone every night to that clearing and you’re lying about why.”

I was panicking now. “Anyway, I should go—”

He rose to his feet, eyeing me with furrowed eyebrows, and moved closer. I could see his eyes lower from mine to look at my flushed cheeks, and my heart rate doubled.

When he spoke, his voice was rugged, gravelly. His jaw was so tensed I could see the veins of his neck, but he was so, so quiet. “Are you
screwing
my sister?”

I opened and closed my mouth. My mind was blank, buzzing with something akin to terror, and my brain was telling my legs to run. I gripped the barn door so hard my knuckles turned white, and stayed put. I finally got a word out. “N-no.”

I knew as soon as I said it that it wasn’t nearly convincing enough. Scott’s whole face went beet red and he started shaking with anger.

“Hey, what are you doing all the way out-?”

That was Cammie, who paused beside me at the entrance to the barn, then glanced inside and cut herself off when she saw Scott. She looked back and forth between my reddened face and his, and then down to his clenched fists, and immediately went to him.

“Scott, you have to understand—”

“What about this am I supposed to understand?” he cried, sounding near tears. The anger drained from his face and he gestured to me hopelessly, looking seconds from a nervous breakdown. “This is my wedding day, I’m fucking terrified and Mom’s already talking kids and now that I finally get along with one of Dad’s experiments she’s turned you gay and you’re having sex with her?! What part of that is okay?! What am I supposed to understand here?!”

“I’m not a child, Scott. I can make my own decisions. I’m eighteen. I know it’s a lot to take in—”

“It’s a sin,” he spat out, shaking his head. “You’re going to hell.”

“You don’t believe that.” Cammie dropped her hand from his arm and shook her head. “I know you don’t believe that. I’m a good person. So is Lauren. I’m the same sister you’ve had for eighteen years, Scott. And you like Lauren.”

“Not now. Not anymore. She needs to go. She’s messed you up.” He moved to push past her, but Cammie grabbed at him. I caught a glimpse of her face and saw her expression had hardened.

“You’re not saying a word to Mom and Dad. Don’t even think about it, or I’ll tell Mom how you really feel about your wedding day.”

“That’s nothing compared to you sleeping with a girl Dad’s supposed to be fixing,” he snapped.

“Probably not. But do you want to test them?”

They stood facing each other, gazes locked, and, at last, Scott broke eye contact to glare at me. “She’s out of here in four months. And then you’ll get over this stupid phase and go back to being normal again.”

He brushed past her and left the barn without another word, and Cammie watched him go with reddened eyes. I could tell she was seconds from bursting into tears.

“I’m sorry,” I started to say, but she left before I could even get a full apology out.

*  *  *

I didn’t get a chance to talk to her again until long after Scott and Jill had left for a weeklong Honeymoon in the Bahamas. Her grandparents on both sides were staying at a local motel a few miles away, but all four of them stayed late into the night, along with a couple of aunts and uncles who also had flights to catch early the next morning.

I kept to myself. That night, more than ever, I was aware of not only how much of an outsider I was, but also of just how much of who I was was unacceptable. I didn’t fit into Wendy’s worldview or the worldview of her parents; I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t supposed to exist, and I was only around until I wasn’t anymore. I was a burden to them. I felt invisible.

As everyone began to crowd around for goodbyes, I finally felt myself relax. The hours of listening to old Marshall family stories, watching Cammie’s grandparents ask her about boyfriends, and taking in Wendy’s overeager grin at those questions had left me exhausted.

David sidled up to me as the last of the guests were leaving and wrapped an arm around me, squeezing me to him. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked up at him thoughtfully.

“I think I get why you wanted me go to church.”

He seemed surprised that I’d have this epiphany now of all times. “Oh?”

“It’s a family thing. It’s a weekly family tradition. You wanted to force me into family activities. Like regular parents do.” I swallowed hard. “But I don’t feel like a part of your family. I’m not the kind of person any of them like having around.”

“I like having you around,” he told me, patting my shoulder. “And so does Cammie. You make her happy. I’m a fan of anything that can do that.”

“Really?”

He smiled, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Yes.”

It occurred to me, then, that maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed.

I climbed the stairs to Cammie’s room when it was finally time for bed, and entered to see her buried beneath her covers, her entire body hidden from view.

I went to her bed and sat beside her, placing a hand on her arm. I felt her flinch. “Will you talk to me?” I asked her.

“I’m really not in the mood.” Her voice was muffled, but firm, and it was my turn to flinch. Sadly, I got back to my feet.

“Okay.” I hesitated. “I love you.”

She shifted beneath the covers as I watched, and then sat up in bed and let them fall to her lap. She pulled her knees up to her chest and I saw her eyes were red-rimmed. “What did you tell him?”

“He figured it out,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“He hates me now.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He just needs time to adjust.”

“You don’t know that.” She sniffed and wiped at a tear on her cheek. “You don’t know what this feels like. I feel like I’m drowning. First it’s Scott, and then who? My parents? My classmates?”

“You shouldn’t care about the kids you go to school with.”

“But I do!” she bit out. “I care a lot. For as long as I’m living here, I’ll care.”

“You don’t have to live here,” I reminded her. “You can live anywhere you want. I have the money. I’ll give you anything you want, Cammie. I’ll buy you your own art studio; I don’t
care
. I just hate that this hurts you so much.” I was red-faced and earnest, I knew, but I couldn’t stop myself from continuing. “Your Dad knows about me, and I know it’s different when it’s your own kid, but he just wants you to be happy. I know he’d be okay with this; I can feel it, and he can talk to your mom. It doesn’t have to be this hard forever. You can be honest with him, and things will get better.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even have to come out to your Dad, right? He just didn’t care about you regardless.”