The Year I Almost Drowned (34 page)

firefighters,

the

rest

marry

cops?”

“That is absurd.” I wondered if it was a jab toward me. Not that I was marrying

Everett, but I was on a date with a cop, so what did that make me in Jesse’s

eyes? I folded my arms and pursed my lips. The more I thought about it, the

angrier

I

became.

“What?”

“So I’m not a real woman?” I snapped. I tapped my foot on the floor but not to the

beat

of

the

music.

He scratched his head and tilted it to the side, giving me a confused look. “Are

you

guys

getting

married?

That

was

fast,”

he

said.

“No. But you made it sound, oh forget it!” I clenched my fists and pursed my lips.

I

almost

stomped

my

foot

like

a

toddler

having

a

tantrum.

He stifled a laugh and then gave me a serious expression. “Still have the bad

temper,

too.”

I

glared

at

him.

“Your

face

is

red,

Finn.”

“Why

are

you

being

this

way?”

“What way? Start dating a cop and you lose your sense of humor.” He nodded

confidently and then said seriously, “I’m just kidding with you, Finn.” He playfully

poked

me

in

the

arm.

“I

don’t

think

you’re

funny.”

He

shrugged.

“I

guess

I

can’t

make

everyone

laugh.”

I was about to say something else, but Everett interrupted us. “Everything okay?”

he

asked,

sensing

my

anger,

reading

my

body

language.

“I

was

just

keeping

your

date

company,”

Jesse

said.

Everett placed his hand on the small of my back. It felt like a territorial move, and

I didn’t like that. I moved a little, giving him the subtle hint to take his hand off of

me. Jesse noticed it all and raised his eyebrows at me in the process.

The upbeat tempo changed to a slow, softer tune. Couples took hold of each

other’s

hands

and

found

their

way

onto

the

dance

floor.

“Excuse me, I promised a special lady a dance,” Jesse said, leaving us as he

approached my Nana. He placed his arm in hers and escorted her to the dance

floor.

“Do

you

want

to

dance

again?”

Everett

asked.

“Sure,” I answered, and I followed him amidst the crowds of couples dancing

slowly.

He placed his hands around my waist; I wrapped my arms around his neck. We

swayed back and forth to the slow melody. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched

as Nana and Jesse moved to the music. She looked happy, her grin broad. She

was laughing uncontrollably at something he had said to her. Everett and I

continued to move to the music. He tried to make polite small talk, but my eyes

were

focused

on

Jesse

and

Nana.

The song came to an end. “I want to say hi to my Nana,” I said.

She fanned herself with her hands and laughed at something Jesse had said.

“I’ve

been

looking

all

over

for

you,”

I

said

to

her.

“Well, hello to you, too,” she replied. “I’ve been on that dance floor most of the

night. Let’s see, Cookie and I danced, then Ronald–Charlie’s old buddy, and then

Jesse.” She counted on her fingers. “Lord it’s hot in here,” she said, still fanning

herself.

“Would

you

like

something

to

drink,

Lilly?”

Jesse

asked.

“Sure.” She smiled. “Not that punch, though. I hate sherbert.” She crinkled her

nose.

He got up off of the chair and pointed to it. “You can sit if you’d like, Finn,” he

said.

“Finn, I’ll be right back. I see some old friends of mine,” Everett said to me and

then said to Nana, “It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Hemmings.”

She

continued

to

fan

herself.

“You,

too,”

she

replied.

“You

look

like

you’re

having

fun,”

I

said

to

her.

“Can’t

say

the

same

for

you,”

she

said.

“I’m

having

fun,”

I

said

defensively.

“Whatever you say honey. You just seem to have a sour puss face. That girl

Jesse’s been dancing with isn’t his date. He came alone,” she said.

My eyes averted hers. “I wasn’t even thinking about that,” I lied.

“Sure

you

weren’t.

Y’all

are

fools,”

she

said.

“Thanks

a

lot.”

“Just

calling

it

like

I

see

it,”

she

retorted.

“Here’s your drink, Lilly.” Jesse handed her a red plastic cup. She took it from him

and

gulped

the

liquid

down

in

one

long

swallow.

“Lord, I was parched. You wore me out with that dance, Jesse.”

“Would

you

like

to

dance

again?”

he

asked

her.

“I think I’ll sit this one out. Why don’t you dance with Finn? She’s young. She can

handle

you.”

Before I had time to give her a dirty look, he looked at me waiting to see my

reaction. I stood up and gave him a half-smile. He took my hand and led me to

the dance floor. The tempo was slow. We stood there awkwardly at first, trying to

figure out what to do with our hands. He wrapped my arms around his damp neck

and then placed his hands securely around my waist. His grip was firm and sent

a tingling sensation throughout my entire body– like that feeling you get when a

limb

falls

asleep.

I couldn’t look at him. It was unnerving and too familiar. “Lilly’s having fun,” he

said.

“She is.” I garnered a smile. I laid my head against his warm chest. It seemed like

the thing to do even though it was intimate, too intimate. He smelled like fabric

softener and the earth. Jesse always smelled like the earth–musky and sweet.

His chin rested on my head. I could feel his warm breath blowing onto my hair.

“I’m

glad.

I

was

worried,”

he

started.

“Me, too,” I answered before he could finish. “You’re so good to her.”

“She’s family,” he said matter of fact. We continued to sway back and forth to the

soft

melody.

“This

is

nice,”

he

murmured.

“Uh

hmm.”

I

wanted

to

stay

there

forever.

Infinitely.

He loosed his grip from my waist and gently unwrapped my arms from around his

neck. “Thanks for the dance,” he said. I hadn’t heard the music stop but could tell

from the couples departing from the dance floor that it must have.

And

just

like

that,

our

dance

was

over.

***

I could hear the hum of the air conditioning and the sound of the tires swishing

against the wet pavement. It was raining. Water continued to pound the

windshield. I watched as the wipers moved back and forth, the rubber hitting the

glass,

squeaking

against

it.

Everett put the car in park, the engine still running, a romantic country tune played

on his radio. “I had fun dancing with you tonight, Finn,” he said. He shifted his

body

so

that

we

were

facing

each

other.

“Thanks. Me, too.” I smiled at him. I did have fun with him. The only problem was,

he wasn’t Jesse. He’d never be Jesse. I told myself to quit comparing, but I

couldn’t help it. Jesse was all I knew about dating...and love.

“You’re a good dancer.” He stretched his arm out to touch my shoulder.

“Thanks,” I said. I couldn’t say “you, too,” because that would have been untrue.

His hand found its way to the back of my neck. The tips of his fingers grazed my

neck. Even though it felt good, in the back of my mind, I knew it was wrong.

“You’re

really

pretty,

Finn,”

he

said.

“Thanks, you, too,” I said and then upon realizing what I had said, became

embarrassed.

Sometimes

I

could

be

so

ridiculous.

He let out a soft chuckle. “I’ve never been called pretty, but I like it.” He continued

to massage the back of my neck. A part of me wanted him to continue, the other

part, the one that knew my heart belonged to someone else, knew he needed to

stop.

He leaned forward and placed his lips on mine. Even though he was handsome,

nice and had all the qualities in a guy that most girls would love (and he could

kiss really well), I didn’t feel anything. Not one thing. No chemical reaction. No

goosebumps. No butterflies in my stomach. Nothing. Not like I did when I kissed

Jesse.

He must have sensed my feelings, the one-sided chemistry. Was there something

wrong with me? Most girls would welcome his soft lips on theirs. But not me; my

heart

belonged

to

someone

else.

Kissing

him

felt

wrong.

His lips parted from mine. He gave me a half-hearted smile like he was about to

say something but decided against it. Any girl would want to kiss Everett, any girl

but

me.

“Guess

I

shouldn’t

have

done

that,”

he

said

apologetically.

“It was nice,” I said to him, which sounded cliché and insulting. It’s what you say

to someone when you’re talking about a wedding you went to or some event, but

not when they’ve kissed you. Describing a kiss as “nice” is one of the worst things

you can say. It’s almost as bad as saying the kiss itself was awful.

“I knew better.” He shook his head and sighed. “It was written all over your faces

tonight, and I still kissed you. I guess I was just hoping that maybe a small part of

you was attracted to me.” He looked at me earnestly. “But I can’t compete with

someone you’re in love with and really, I don’t want to.” He touched the top of my

hand and ran his fingers back and forth, then removed them. “Y’all are in love

with each other. I don’t know what broke you up, but I’d try to fix it if I were you.”

My relationship with Jesse had been split at the seams. I just wondered if there

was

a

way

to

sew

it

back

together.

“I’m in love with him and always have been,” I admitted more to myself than to

him. It was the first time I’d said it out loud to anyone since Jesse and I had broken

up. Everett had that affect on me. For some reason, he had become my sounding

board.

“Then go for what you want. I’ve seen too much death in my life, Finn. You gotta

live

while

you

can.”

Unabashed, I admitted my innermost feeling to him. “I’m afraid.”

“Then find the strength. Because you’ll regret it if you don’t do anything about it.”

“You’re a good friend to me,” I said. “Thank you.” I smiled.

“I would’ve liked to have been more, but I’ll settle for being friends,” he said.

“If I wasn’t in love with him, I know there’s no way I’d let a guy like you go,” I said.

I had admitted to my feelings about Jesse; I just didn’t know what I was going to

do about it.

Another week passed. Why do the long summer days move faster than the rest

of the days in all the other seasons? When you want time to stand still, to slow

down, it plays one of its twisted jokes on you and speeds up. The hands of time

move

faster

and

faster.

Within a few weeks, I’d be back on campus, taking classes, studying, living the

life of a college student–the antithesis of all that I had grown to know this summer.

I’d have to acclimate again. I just didn’t know if I was up for it. I didn’t know if it

was

what

I

wanted.

To

acclimate.

I sat in front of my grandfather’s computer tallying the books from the day’s sales.