Chapter Seventeen
Curtis
I awoke some hours later to find silvery-golden light seeping into my tent. I sensed at once that something wasn’t quite right; there was an absence. Then I realized: Allie was gone. She had been lying next to me when I fell asleep. And then I remembered last night, and the whole chain of events that had led her into my tent, and to the two of us sleeping together.
So we were dating now, it seemed like. And we were sexual partners. If I hadn’t given up Lizzie before, I would have had to do it now. Not that I had any desire ever to sleep with her again, not after last night. There’s all the difference in the world in banging someone when you’re lonely, or horny, and banging someone who is sincerely, fiercely interested in you, and who you can’t stand to be away from even for a minute.
Speaking of which.
I threw on a plaid button-down and a pair of hiking pants and crawled out of my tent. Allie was probably still sleeping, but I knew she’d be up in an hour or two. I needed to walk around for a bit, to clear my head and think over what had just happened.
It was always a risky business, going camping with girls. There was something oddly romantic about it, just being out in the wilderness, sunlight and moonlight and fresh air on your face. If you weren’t careful, you’d fall in love with whoever you happened to be sitting next to at breakfast. I’d gone on a couple of camping trips in high school and always came back besotted with one girl or another.
This was different, though, and that was what made it confusing. I’d been addicted to Allie since the moment she showed up in our driveway. One way or another, we’d’ve found our way into each other’s arms before too long. I was sure our surroundings had played no role in my decision. (Had there even been a decision? Or had we simply been drawn together by combustible, unstoppable chemistry?) And yet here in the light of morning, everything seemed heightened, like a television in high-definition. In the branches of a tall oak, a cardinal was singing as if in celebration.
I walked until I came to the edge of the clearing. There was a figure sitting at the crest of a hill at a distance of about thirty paces. It was Allie. She was watching the sun rise over the limestone cliffs that ran along the river, her shoulders slumped as if weary from carrying the weight of the world. Still not aware that I was coming up behind her, she pulled out a tiny reed flute, sounded a single note, then hastily stuffed it back into her shirt pocket.
“Hey,” I said quietly and cautiously when I was close enough to speak without shouting.
Allie flinched in surprise. She looked from me to the flute. “Did you hear me playing?”
“Yeah,” I said, as I stooped down beside her. “But I was already on my way over.”
“Darn.” Allie snapped her fingers. “I was hoping maybe I had summoned you.”
We sat there in silence for a couple minutes, watching the ducks floating along the river. It felt oddly peaceful, more like a Sunday than a Tuesday morning. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t put words to it. It seemed like she was thinking the same thing because her shoulders tensed, and she puffed out her cheeks looking nervous.
I should have known, I guess. Mornings after are always awkward. The reality that comes after the magic.
Last night had felt like something out of a dream. But now we were being drawn back into the real world of packing and post-trip exhaustion and uncomfortable silences.
“Well,” I said, when it seemed like the silence would stretch on forever, “I reckon we’d better head back and get our stuff packed.”
“Yeah, I need to be getting back,” said Allie. “I’ve got errands to run. Cats to feed.”
It was hard to ignore the note of disappointment in her voice.
We both sat in the back seat on the way back. Because neither of us seemed much inclined to talk, Zach did most of the talking.
“I remember when we were little, we used to fight over who would get to ride shotgun,” he said, peering at us through the rearview mirror from behind his dark shades. “Now nobody wants to sit up here. I wish one of you would; hell, maybe even both of you.”
“Sorry you had to play chauffeur.” I leaned forward and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “‘Some will win, some will lose…’”
“Yeah, and some are born to sing the blues,” said Zach, “and that’s me.”
Although a cop car tailed us most of the way back to the house (Zach gave him the finger when he was sure no one could see it), we made it home without incident. By that point, I was ready for another nap and was not looking forward to sitting through twenty-five hours of Lord of the Rings. I was almost glad when Allie turned to me and said, “Raincheck on the movie. I’m exhausted and need to go lie down. How long is your brother in town?”
“Another couple of weeks.”
“Maybe we can do it on Friday,” she said. “When we go riding.”
She grabbed her bag from the back seat and stalked off in the direction of her house. It was hard to resist the feeling that she was angry about something. Sex had a way of doing that; it always seemed to make people tenser, more irritable.
“Y’all okay, man?” asked Zach as we watched her leave. “You seem… tense.”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Last night was—” I raised my brows suggestively. “Great.”
“Ah, you lucky dog,” said Zach. He punched me in the arm playfully. “You old son of a bitch!”
I smiled all the way back to the house.
***
I changed into my running clothes and went out for a jog, then came back and took a quick shower. By the time I had finished, my bed had never looked more welcoming. I crawled into it and slept for another three or four hours while the shadows lengthened, and the room grew dark.
It was Jake that woke me up. He was barking at something, and it took me a second to realize what it was. Somebody was at the door.
Thinking it must have been Allie, I threw on a shirt and ran into the living room. I should have listened to my first instinct, which told me something was wrong and that I should just stay in bed. But when I opened the door, it wasn’t Allie standing there. It was Lizzie.
I jumped back in alarm, my heart beating fast. I peered out the door to make sure no one could see us. “What are you doing here?” I whispered in a gruff voice.
I was in a real bind now. The longer we stood here talking, the greater the chances of Allie or my mom seeing us. It was only dusk, so there was still a chance she might see us. But if I pulled her inside, that would look even shadier. There wasn’t much I could do except bring the conversation to an end as quickly as possible.
“It feels like forever ago since I seen you,” said Lizzie, placing a hand on my chest. I flinched, and she could see the panic and anger in my face. “You don’t look remotely happy to see me.”
“Elizabeth, you can’t come around here no more,” I hissed. “I’m seein’ somebody now.”
Comprehension and disappointment dawned on Lizzie’s face. “Well,” she said, making a brave effort to rally herself, “we don’t gotta be nothin’…”
“We’re not!” I said angrily.
“But if you and her are goin’ steady, I don’t see no reason why we can’t still have somethin’. There’s still gonna be times when you’re lonely, or—or hungry. Just because you like her, don’t mean we gotta stop seeing each other.”
“Matter of fact, that’s exactly what it does mean,” I said coldly. “Datin’ someone means you can’t be going around bangin’ any other thing with legs.”
Lizzie tried to place her hand on my neck. I grabbed her gently by the wrist and pulled it away. “You got yourself a girlfriend,” she said, undeterred. “And you got yourself a friend with benefits. I’d call that pretty lucky.”
“And I’d call that a sure-fire recipe for disaster!” I snapped back. It was amazing how thick-headed she was being, like she didn’t want to see what I was driving at. “She finds out we’re seeing each other, it’s over! And I’m sorry, but I care way too much about this girl to let you or anyone else get in the way of that. We’re through! I don’t want to see you darken my doorstep again!”
I felt like a monster, but that was the only way to do it: clean and quick, like an amputation. Without waiting for her to respond, I slammed the door in her face. I could still hear her standing out there, crying, long after I’d returned to my room.