The Ocean (24 page)

“I’m at a slumber party.” She looked up at me as if to say, “Duh.”

“Ah.” I leaned back and threw my legs up on the couch and watched the movie. Final y, when she was done with her fingernails and thought they were dry enough, she joined me on the couch. We didn’t talk during the movie. It wasn’t that it was very interesting; it was that I was alertly aware of her every move. She’d brush her hair away from her face, and I was watching her. She’d scratch her nose, and I was watching her again. I gave up on trying to fol ow the plot line. She snuggled up to me. I groaned unconsciously. She looked up at me.

“I’m just not into this movie,” I sighed, not taking my eyes off the TV.

“Why? It’s real y good. Who do you think did it?” She looked back to the TV.

“The reporter,” I said.

“But he’s the narrator.” She shook her head.

“Yes, but I just have a feeling that it was him.” She stil didn’t trust me, I could tel .

“You’re just saying that to mess with me.”

“No, seriously, he’s ‘ conveniently’, ” I threw up my finger quotes, “stumbled on al these clues and is always there when something happens but never sees it. I think he has multiple personalities or something.” It was one of those gritty movies that was advertised as having a shocking twist. She shrugged.

“We’l see soon enough, huh?” And we did. Within fifteen minutes she subscribed to my spoiler theory, and sure enough, he was the murderer al along. It got pretty gruesome toward the end, and she hid her face in my chest. When it was over she sat up, yawned, and stretched, showing a little of her bel y. That was where my eyes gravitated. She pul ed her shirt down self-consciously.

“Are you ready to go upstairs? We can watch this one up there.” I held up the romantic comedy I’d gotten.

“Yeah, ’cause there’s no way I’m going to sleep after that ending.” She stood.

“Yeah, me too.” I fol owed her up to my room. I put the movie in, and she pul ed down the covers to my bed. “Do you need to change into pajamas or anything?” I nodded toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, but I can do that later. We’re going to be up for a while, right?” She sat down and pul ed the covers up around her. I pushed PLAY and climbed over to her. I pul ed her close to me as the previews started. I kissed the top of her head, and she put her arms around me. I settled down and kissed the side of her forehead as she began to play with the hem of my shirt under the cover. The second preview started. She sat up a bit, pul ed her hair down, and shook it out. I moved it away from her neck as she turned and looked at me for a second. I pul ed her to me, and we were kissing.

We did the same thing we’d been doing every day. But this time was obviously different; there wasn’t the caution that someone could come in on us at any moment. No one would stop us if we went too far. She pul ed my shirt over my head. I pul ed her on top of me as we kissed. My hands went under her shirts, and I helped her take them off. We kissed deeper, and I flipped her over and was on top of her. The menu was up for the movie, but we didn’t care. I untied her sweats and wiggled them off her. She tugged at my jeans at the same time. I kissed her throat, her shoulders, her chest, her stomach. She kissed me, too, anywhere she could reach. I unhooked her bra and pressed myself against her. She began to breathe heavily. At first, I thought she was as excited as I was. Then she began hyperventilating. I jerked off her, leaning on my knees. She pul ed the sheet up to her chest and refused to look at me.

“I’m sorry.” She was stil breathing heavily. “I thought I could, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She pul ed her legs up and crushed the sheet around her.

“It’s OK.” I touched her arm, but she pul ed away from me and looked at me as if she were scared of me or hurt. “What did I do?” I was confused.

“It’s not you,” she accused. “It’s me. I must be wired wrong. I mean look at you!” And she surveyed me in my boxers. “I should be al over you, but I’m freaking out.” She didn’t look at me again.

“You’re nervous, and it’s al right.” I pul ed her to me. I settled us down in the bed and held her. We didn’t dress; we just held each other and after a short time of me smoothing her hair, comforting her as best I could, she fel asleep. I turned off the TV and watched her sleep. Final y, I drifted off to sleep myself.

I woke up dazed the next morning, not sure what I’d dreamed and what actual y happened. I rol ed over and saw her lying there on her bel y. Her hair spil ed over her bare back and over her face; the sheet rested just below the band of her hipster panties. She stil slept. I put my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling. I was trying not to think about her lying beside me, and I was failing miserably.

“What are you thinking about so seriously over there?” I turned on my side to see her leaned up now, careful y covering her breasts in the morning light with her arms. It was very sexy.

“You.” I didn’t even look away from her as I said it as seriously as I’m sure I looked.

“I’m sorry, again.” She looked away, embarrassed.

“It’s OK, real y. I hoped, but I didn’t expect it.”

“Soon, OK. I don’t know how soon, but soon.” She final y looked at me.

“Breakfast?” I asked, changing the subject. I stood and went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I came back into my room and got a pair of basketbal shorts out of my dresser and put them on. She lay her head back down, watching me but not saying anything. I crawled across the bed and kissed her cheek. “I make the best scrambled eggs.” She nodded. I left, giving her privacy so that she could get up and dressed. I put bread in the toaster and made the scrambled eggs. When I was dishing them onto the plates, she appeared in the doorway. She poured us juice, and we were at the table eating. My phone rang, and I answered it.

“Hey, honey, how is everything?” My mom’s voice seemed a little strained.

“Everything’s OK, Mom. How’s Charleston?” I smiled and reached for Gia’s hand, squeezing it.

“Everything is fine, but I think we’re going to stay a few more days. Your father and I have been doing a lot of talking, and Hailey deserves a little more time with him. I wish you’d have come, honey. I’d hate for you to regret this.” There was solemnness in her tone. I didn’t understand it.

“I don’t regret staying behind, Mom. What about school for Hailey? She shouldn’t miss.”

“I’ve already cal ed the school; it’s OK. Honey, I didn’t want to tel you on the phone, but he’s sick.” I wasn’t sure I heard her right.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the doctors are doing everything they can, but it’s not a guarantee, he’s in chemo—”

“He has cancer?” I interrupted her. I could feel my voice getting louder, and I couldn’t even look at Gia.

“No, he has a tumor that they are treating with a sort of chemotherapy. It’s terminal unless they can remove it.” I didn’t hear anything else she said after “terminal.” My father was dying as Gia’s mom had.

“I need to go,” I said in a hushed tone.

“Sweetie, we need to talk about this. Do you want me to purchase you a ticket so you can come up here too?”

“No, I just want to be alone right now. I love you, Mom,” I said. She said goodbye, and I hung up the phone. My hands began to tremble, and before I could say anything, Gia was standing beside me, holding me against her. I turned to her and felt the warm tears begin to stream down my cheeks. It had been a long time since I’d cried. He wasn’t much of a father, but he was my father. Although I didn’t want anything to do with him, I was overtaken with emotions of anger, fear, and sadness. She just held me to her as close as she could until I was done. Then she cal ed Oliver and told him Abby was dropping her at my house. She would be spending the day with me, since I’d gotten some bad family news. He didn’t hesitate with his approval.

“What do you want to do?” she asked me, pul ing me to my feet and leading me to the couch.

“I don’t know, but if this is how I feel hearing news about my dad, how did you feel when you found out about your mom?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“Um, at first I just sat there and stared at her. I remember she sat us down, and Mitchel was holding her hand. She said they would fight it and do whatever they could. I felt numb on the inside; I didn’t cry. I thought I would, but I didn’t. I thought I had to be strong for my mom, and I was.

“I helped her as much as I could. Alex turned to his sports and became obsessed with them. I quit playing my guitar; I only talked to my two best friends, but I refused to talk about my mom. This boy liked me.” She blushed slightly and looked away from me. “And I liked him, a lot, but I wouldn’t even talk to him after that. I felt like if I was good enough, then maybe God would make her cancer go away.

“Then I went through a phase where I was angry. I was angry at everyone, but that didn’t last long. I sucked it up and got back to helping out. It changed me, though, obviously. Our lives are precious and too short. We have to make most of every day. We have to spend it with the ones we love.” She looked out the window. We sat there for a while. We watched the other movie, and we took a nap.

It was late in the afternoon when there was a loud banging on the front door. I wiggled my way out from under her and tried to not wake her, but she stirred. I answered the door, and Oliver was standing there with his fists clenched. He barged in and poked his finger into my chest.

“You were supposed to respect her! Gianna! Get your things!” he boomed. She sat up from the couch and looked at him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I cal ed Abigail’s house and spoke with her mother. You didn’t spend the night there. I trusted you.” Her face turned red.

“Mr. Moretti, nothing happened,” I began.

“Travis, keep your mouth shut. I wil be cal ing your mother as soon as I get back home.” He didn’t look at me, just glared at Gia. She didn’t say anything. She simply stood and went upstairs to get her things.

“You thought you’d get away with this?” He looked at me now.

“I just wanted to spend time with her.” I looked to the stairs.

“Is that everything?” he asked, as she descended the stairs.

“Yes,” was al she said to him. “Travis, I wil cal you later.”

“Not likely,” he said, as she led the way out of the house.

I stood and watched them. Oliver closed the door. They were talking al the way to the car, but I couldn’t hear what they said. I just watched them from my window. I did catch his lips shape the word “virginity” though. I felt awful for getting her into trouble. I decided to give her time to get home and get lectured. Then I’d text her to test the waters. I turned on the TV to pass the time, but I didn’t have to wait the whole thirty minutes. After twenty minutes, she texted me.

I’m grounded for a week, u’re banned from coming over for a week.

That wasn’t so bad.

It helps that we didn’t do it. I told him about ur dad’s tumor, I hope that’s ok.

If it helped.

It did. He trusts us, he’s talking to your mom, expect a call.

I sighed.

It will be worth it, if u ask me.

I think so too. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.

Yep I’ll see u first thing. I love you.

My mom cal ed as soon as I hit SEND. I got a lecture and was told that I’d be grounded when she got home. I expected that. We said our goodbyes, and I went upstairs and took a shower. I was lounging on the couch playing video games when there was another banging on the front door. When I answered it, Chiz stood there with Brandon, Mason, and Abby.

“Are you ready?” he asked, as he came in and plopped down on my couch.

“Ready?” I looked at him, confused.

“My house, we’re having a gathering of my subjects.” I remembered his party.

“I’m not feeling up for it tonight,” I answered, shaking my head.

“No excuses. Alex and Gia can’t come out, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a party-pooper, too. You never used to turn down a good time.” He shook his head and stood.

“Come on, man, just a little bit. I’l bring you home in a few hours,” Mason pleaded, probably because he didn’t want Abby and him to be the only ones forced to attend.

“Fine, let me go change,” I said. I ran up the stairs before Chiz could object. I changed and then came downstairs. I grabbed a sports drink from the refrigerator and fol owed the clan to their cars. I got into the front passenger seat of Mason’s car.

On the way I fil ed Abby and him in on the evening and drama with Oliver. Abby already knew part of it, but they laughed at us and our bad luck. We arrived at a party that seemed to have been going on strong for a while. There were kids coming and going. We went inside, and Chiz made some random kids move from the couch so that we could sit. That’s what we did for a few hours, just sat there and talked among ourselves.

Chiz came over a few times and offered us drinks, but we refused to drink; Mason was driving, Abby’s parents were probably stil going to be up, and I just didn’t like the taste of beer. But when my sports drink was gone, I final y accepted Chiz’s offer. One beer couldn’t hurt. I watched him go to the pass-through counter between his dining room and kitchen. I watched him tel Jil ian that I wanted a drink. She was playing bartender most of the night. She enjoyed making people beg for things. She popped the top off two bottles and reached for something I couldn’t see. Then she produced them each with a lime on the rim. She handed them one at a time to Chiz, and he said something because she smiled at him with her conspiratorial smile. He returned and handed me a drink. I rubbed the lime around the rim, dropped it in, and took a swig. I scrunched my face as I swal owed a big gulp. It was cold, but it wasn’t good. Abby looked at her cel phone.

“Are you ready to go?” Mason asked her.

“I am. It’s already ten thirty,” she groaned.

“Are you ready, Travis?” He turned to me.

“He’s gotta finish his beer,” Chiz interjected.

“If you guys are ready,” I said.

“No, you know what, Brandon’s not drinking.” He pointed to Brandon standing in the corner with a bottled water talking to Lila. Brandon never drank.

“He’l bring Travis home when he’s done. We don’t waste beer around here.” I rol ed my eyes at Mason.