Jet Ski
*Kayla*
November 14, 2015
It is 6:15 in the morning. I don’t think I have ever willingly been up this early on a Saturday. And it seems to show in my appearance as well. Bags are under my eyes from the four hours of sleep I got, considering Dallas kept me up all night, texting. My hair still isn’t combed, so knots are nestling at the back. I have no makeup on, so my eyes look even more dead.
I’m going to thump Dallas on the head when I see him. Curse him for keeping me up. Curse him for demanding I be up at this ungodly hour.
The smile I’ve been wearing since Thursday night makes an appearance as I think about how Dallas is surprising me. He told me to be up and ready at 6:30 and to dress in casual clothing with a swimsuit on underneath.
What is this man planning? Are we going to the Dunes to go swimming? Maybe a nearby water park?
No. Water parks are closed mid-September, idiot.
Sighing, I enter the bathroom to finish getting ready, combing my hair and then throwing it up into a messy ponytail. I brush my teeth, put deodorant on, then my favorite “Tease” perfume from Victoria’s Secret. Finally, I apply a simple amount of waterproof mascara. I don’t want to look like a raccoon if we do end up swimming.
Running downstairs with my white Converse in hand, I stop to see my mom in the kitchen. She usually isn’t up this early either…
“I heard you ransacking about. Woke me up,” she mumbles, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She then slides one across the counter for me, and I peek to see it has cream and sugar already in it. Smiling, I pick it up and take a sip.
“I’m sorry,” I say, chugging the warm coffee when my taste buds explode.
My mom waves it off as she sits at the breakfast bar, crossing her legs as she looks me up and down. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go see a movie with Katie and me, but it seems you have plans.” I can’t help but look down at my outfit.
All I’m wearing are jean shorts and a white sweatshirt with a Cubs logo on the front. “I’m sorry,” I say again, this time sheepishly as I look back at her. “Dallas is surprising me with an excursion. Said to dress causal with a swimsuit underneath. How do I look?” I ask, lifting my arms up at my sides and do a little spin.
“Dallas?” I wait for her to continue, to answer my question, but when she quirks an eyebrow, I know she won’t.
Sighing, I say, “Yes. Dallas is Kyle’s older brother.”
“I know who Dallas is. Promise me you’ll be careful with him,” my mom says, taking a sip of her steaming coffee. I notice her wince a little at the heat, and I can’t help but wonder how she still has any taste buds.
“I’ll be careful…well?” I lift my arms again.
“You look the same as you always do.” My mom shrugs, a coy smile on her lips that she tries to hide with her coffee.
I laugh lightly and reach over to thump her on the arm the same moment the doorbell rings. My eyes dart to the clock over the stove to see it’s exactly 6:30. Did I mention that this boy is punctual?
“Ooooh. Have fun!” my mom coos, and I just roll my eyes, down my coffee, and then place a kiss to her cheek as I turn and run for the door. I do well to grab my purse on my way out.
Opening the door, I drop my Converse to the floor and slide them on, meeting Dallas’ eyes. He’s dressed in white, knee-length shorts and a University of Illinois sweatshirt. I have to admit; he looks good in that orange.
Dallas reaches up and rustles his lightly damp hair, causing it to have a messy look to it as a smile stretches across his face. “You look great.” He holds out a hand, and I instantly take it, pulling the door closed behind me. Dallas pulls me into his arms and gives me a tight hug before he twists our fingers together and leads me off the porch.
The morning air is a little chilly, but when the sun comes out, it will be in the high 50s today.
As we walk down the driveway, hand in hand, I notice his Jeep parked at the curb, now sporting a hard top, and parked behind it is another car that I have never seen before. I arch an eyebrow and look over at Dallas.
“Anne, Tyler, Mikey, and Shelby are in that car.” He answers my unspoken question, opening the passenger door of the Jeep for me. I smile, hopping in.
“Shelby?” I ask.
Dallas shrugs. “Mikey’s girl,” he answers, shutting the door with a loud bang. Dallas jogs over to the driver’s side, where he slides in and starts the car.
“Tyler and Anne?” Dallas smiles, switching on the radio but keeping the volume low so it’s background music.
He pulls away from the curb and heads down the road, the Subaru Forester following close behind. “Did you not see them Thursday night? They barely stopped talking to one another. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” I flush at his question.
Little does Dallas know, but my thoughts were preoccupied that night. It seems that all I thought about was of him. Or Kyle.
Kyle always managed to make his way into my thoughts, reminding me that as much fun as it is to be teenagers and go on surprise trips, we still have unfinished business.
But we are teenagers. We are only eighteen and in high school once. We can’t forget to be young.
I hate the fact that I feel guilty, running off to have fun with Dallas and my friends while Kyle’s murderer is still lingering around. We have to help Kyle.
But we also have to be young.
I gnaw on my bottom lip, looking out the window of the Jeep as an internal battle takes place.
No. Today, I am going to have fun. I have always been a stay-at-home-with-my-nose-in-a-book girl for as long as I can remember. I am never spontaneous or do anything exciting. I will allow today to be a day of fun, laughter, and smiles.
Then tomorrow, I will try to figure out a way to find Kyle again, and we will try to figure out a way to find the murderer.
A warm hand closes around my own, causing me to lift from my thoughts. I look over at Dallas to see his brows dipped in concern. “Are you all right?” he asks, giving my hand a squeeze. I nod my head, offering a smile.
“Yes. I’m fine. Just tired since someone kept me up until two o’clock,” I tease. Dallas chuckles, bringing our joined hands over so they lie on the arm rest in between us.
“You could have stopped responding. Or said ‘goodnight.’ I would have let you sleep.” Dallas’s tone is gentle and coaxing. He’s very good at sweet talking people and somehow now making this my fault.
Squinting over at him, I shake my head. “You devil,” I mumble. “Where are you taking me?” I arch an eyebrow.
Dallas only continues to look at the road, smiling.
I lean back in my seat, watching the trees zip by. I almost fall asleep to the repetitive scenery; however, when it abruptly changes to a highway, I perk up. Glancing at the signs, I frown to see we’re headed away from Chicago. What could possibly be in the west?
“Dallas, where are you taking me?” I ask, peeking behind to see the Subaru is still trailing us. I arch an eyebrow at my driver. He grabs my hand, giving my fingers a squeeze.
“I already spoke to your mother, and Anne took it upon herself to pack your clothes and necessities. I’m taking you to the Ozarks, where you will learn how to ride a jet ski. Since it is quite the drive, we decided to spend the night at a hotel.” I feel my mouth hang open at his confession.
My mother was actually okay with this? She was okay with me spending a weekend nearly seven hours away?
Was that why she told me to be careful with Dallas? I’m honestly surprised she was even able to keep it a secret.
“Thank you,” I whisper, looking at Dallas with a sincere expression. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I greatly appreciate it.
I cling tightly to Dallas, my arms wrapped around his waist and gripping his life jacket. The wind is deafening, nearly drowning out the sound of the motor as Dallas revs us even faster. As we hit a wave, we go flying in the air, only to crash smoothly on the water.
My cheek is pressed against his back, his wet suit soft against my skin, and my eyes look over to see Anne and Tyler riding up on our right. They are sitting upon a red jet ski, Tyler driving and Anne holding on gently. She’s sitting with ease, not pressed against Tyler as if her life depends on it. Her beautiful red hair whips around in the wind, and I can’t help but feel jealous.
She’s done this before. She’s not scared.
But if she’s not scared, why should I be?
I let out a sigh and gently peel myself off Dallas, lifting my head so I can look at our surroundings. Dallas quickly jerks his head to the side, dropping one hand from the handle bars to grab my right thigh. He looks over his shoulder at me, eyebrows dipping behind his sunglasses.
“You okay?” he yells over the wind and motor, sparing a glance in front of him before looking back at me. I nod my head, smiling.
I am perfect.
I can’t believe that Dallas actually did this. That he somehow remembered through his drunken haze that I have always wanted to go jet skiing. Not only did he remember, but he has actually taken me. I can’t help the fact that my heart is warm at the thought of the lengths he went through.
This can’t have been cheap.
“Thank you!” I scream. Dallas grins and then faces forward, and I slightly loosen my hold, resting my hands on his life jacket-covered stomach, lacing my fingers together.
Looking to my left, I see Mikey and Shelby siding up with us. Shelby waves, smiling, and I spare a hand to wave back at her. Mikey looks over for a moment, his face slightly intense as he nods to Dallas before he veers off.
With another wave, we go into the air, and I can’t help but giggle at the feeling.
Suddenly, Dallas slows to a stop, and I sit up straight, dropping my hands from his waist. He swings a leg over the handlebars and takes the lanyard off his wrist. I look at him curiously as he then dives into the lake, sunglasses and all.
I laugh, watching as he resurfaces, flicking his hair to the side and out of his eyes. He takes his sunglasses off so I can see his shining blue eyes. Dallas swims back to the jet ski and climbs on; however, he’s behind me this time. I tense momentarily as he slides me forward, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“N-no. I can’t…” My voice is shaky with uncertainty.
“Shh,” Dallas whispers in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder so I can hear him over all the motors and wind. He reaches around me to start up the engine and help slip my hand into the lanyard. “This is the throttle.” He grabs my right hand and lifts it up to the handle bar, closing my fingers around it.
“Dallas…I—”
“Kayla…this is the full experience. You will regret walking away if you don’t at least give this a try. I am with you the whole time. Nothing will happen,” he promises and then surprises me with a kiss to my cheek. My eyes are wide with both shock and fear as he presses even closer to me. “Now, gently…” With my hand still in his, he slowly twists the handle bar so we are now moving forward at an easy pace.
I test the steering, turning the jet ski in full circle before going the other way. I nod my head, and Dallas moves us even faster, and I hold on to every ounce of courage I have as I steer us into the open water. Dallas very slowly retracts his hand and sets it on my hip, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Even though we are going at a semi-slow pace, Dallas never lets go of me or moves from being pressed close to my back.
I am comforted by his closeness, knowing that if something were to happen, he’d instantly take over. But I’m focusing on making sure nothing happens.
Testing my courage even more, I go a little faster, and Dallas chuckles in my ear. I smile widely, feeling in control as I whip the jet ski around to see Tyler and Anne heading toward us; however, Anne is now driving. She turns the jet ski around so she is beside me, and I look over, lifting my left hand slightly to wave. She nods.
We ride side by side for a few minutes before Dallas taps my thigh, and I slow the jet ski to a stop. I look over at him to see him twirl his finger. Oh, he wants to switch again. When I get back into my old spot, I go to wrap my arms around him but freeze when I see he is facing me, his back to the handle bars.
“You did great,” he says, grabbing my hand and using it to pull me closer. I blush, bowing my head to avoid his intense gaze. Dallas takes my chin gently between a hooked forefinger and thumb. His thumb lightly presses against my bottom lip as he lifts my chin. Dallas smiles at me as he runs his finger over my lip.
How is he so gentle? The same man that shoved me against my car is now sitting here, treating me to a day of jet skiing and gently caressing me.
“You’re great,” he whispers, inching forward as his head dips down. My stomach does a flip as I hold my breath.
He’s going to kiss me.
My first kiss is going to be on a jet ski, buoying in the middle of Lake Ozark.
That’s what I call romantic.
Dallas’s warm, sun-kissed lips meet mine, first softly, then feverishly as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me impossibly close to him. Our life jackets get in the way, but at the moment I don’t care. It’s simply perfect.
I tangle my fingers into his smooth, blond hair, gently grabbing at it as he intensifies the kiss. It is obvious Dallas has had many kisses. He knows exactly what he’s doing. How to make my toes curl and my heart stop.
I’m forced to break away when I need air, but Dallas takes that as an invitation to kiss my cheeks tenderly and then my forehead. I pant, keeping my head bowed to avoid his gaze.
Was that kiss as great for him as it was for me? I wonder if I met his expectations, ’cause he surpassed my own.
“Well, this is an awkward moment to pop around.” I tense and jerk my head around to see Kyle sitting at the end of the jet ski, a look of disgust and discomfort etching his face.
I’m surprised he is able to find room, but then I realize I’m practically on Dallas’s lap, therefore creating enough space for him to sit.
Kyle sits sideways, so his legs are on one side of the seat as he looks over the lake. He wears a torn expression as his eyes take in his surroundings, his brown hair blowing in the wind.
I slide off Dallas to reach over and place a hand on Kyle’s arm. He turns his head to look up at me, tears welling in his eyes.
“,” Kyle says, trying to smile through the memories. He looks around the lake, his blue eyes taking everything in. He watches people swimming, jumping off the backs of their boats, or floating around on innertubes. “Promise you’ll continue to come. Every year.” Kyle looks over at his brother. Dallas nods his head slowly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against his brother’s. They share a quiet moment, as if they are silently talking to one another.