The Understorey

“Julia cannot be on your bed, for one.” Jules slipped off the bed and knelt on the floor next to me. “Also, absolutely no unnecessary touching. Agreed?”



“Agreed,” we said in unison.



She closed the door and we heard her mutter something about her being a fool and something about grandchildren. We held back laughter and I almost snorted trying to keep it in.



“Oh my God, Elliott,” Jules said, turning her eyes on me.



“What?”



“You look like, well, crap if I had to be honest.”



“Who said you had to be honest?”



She thought about it for a second before saying, “No one, actually. In that case then, you look like a sexy beast!” She amended.



“I know I do baby.”



She stood and pecked me on the lips.



“Ah, ah, ah miss Jacobs. That wasn’t ‘necessary’.”



“Yeah it was,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.



“I brought cards,” she said and threw a deck of cards on the bed next to me.



She rolled my computer chair over the wood floor and wedged it as close to me as possible. She sat and shuffled like a regular Vegas dealer then split the deck in half for a very grown up game of War.



“So, can I confess something to you?” She eyed me flirtatiously, laying down a card.



“Always.”



“After calming down last night, I started thinking about you on your white horse and everything and I gotta’ say, I found you extraordinarily attractive when you came to my rescue. That’s my hand sweetheart. My jack beats your eight.”



“Sorry,” I said, distracted.



“Yeah, I mean, the taking charge, commanding a room, throwing that punch. Sexy. And your Monty Python reference? Icing on the cake.”



“Well, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.”



“See?” She laughed. “I’m not ungrateful that you came to my rescue, not at all, but I’m a little surprised. Growing up, you were so patient, I just always kind of pegged you for the ‘lover not a fighter’ sort. Well, also you do the ‘loving’ part so extraordinarily well.”



I cleared my throat and grabbed her wrist tightly, surprising her. “You know, I’ve never understood the phrase, ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter’. If you’re passionate in love why would you not equally be as passionate enough to fight for it?”



Her mouth fell wide open, “Touché baby, touché.”



That night, after Jules went home, after a lecture from both my parents, and after her parents got in from New York, Jules called me.



“Elliott?” She asked.



“Yeah, babe? What’s up?”



“Oh, I don’t know. Have you talked to Maddy today?” Her voice trickled sarcasm.



“Uh, yeah,” I laughed.



“Did she happen to mention to you anything that might have happened at church today?”



I swallowed hard.



“What happened?”



“Well, I guess Maddy’s been quite the chatterbox, a regular Ouiser Boudreaux, couldn’t wait to mention our little indiscretion to Mrs. Kitt’s daughter apparently and as you probably now suspect, Georgia Kitt spread it around like wildfire. Would you like to take a guess as to her first stop?”



“Mrs. Kitt?”



“Oh yeah and guess what else Elliott?”



“What?”



“The old Kittster called my mom.”



“I’ll kill her.”



“Yeah? Send my condolences to your mama.”



“Julia!” I heard in the background.



“Gotta’ go sweetheart. See you in, I don’t know, a year?” She laughed and hung up.



“Maddy!” I screamed, ignoring the searing pain in my lungs.



Chapter Four



Anti-Heists and Confusions



We started school that Monday with a slightly tainted reputation thanks to Maddy but Jules and I knew the truth. I wouldn’t do anything to Jules that would make her anything less than the pristine girl she was, and we didn’t care what people thought, so we sailed through the tribulation with the greatest ease, except the part where Jules was grounded for two weeks.



Every year, the seniors taking AP English, take a trip to London over spring break with Mr. Cray.



This is something both Jules and I had wanted to do even before we ‘met’ each other. We had thrown ideas back and forth throughout the weeks about how we would pay for it. Though Jules’ parents probably could have afforded to fund the entire trip and then some, Jules never asked them for the money. She assumed, like me, that she was old enough not to rely on her parents for such things.



We decided that to afford the trip we would each make something and sell the goods online. Jules noticed this ridiculously stupid bird house I had made my mom for mother’s day the previous year and insisted that would be perfect. She was going to paint canvases. So, over the two weeks she was under house arrest, I finished around thirty of those stupid birdhouses and even had time to add tiny wood details. My mom gasped every time I showed her one, so I figured they were alright.



Because Maddy felt like crap for snitching, she promised to be our go between since Jules’ mom and dad refused to let me get anywhere near Jules during her imprisonment. I sent Maddy to Jules’ house with them to have them painted. After every one she dropped off, Jules would call me and rant and rave. Side note, girls are funny. She would always send Maddy back with Polaroids of the paintings she’d completed and every single time I saw a new one I would almost fall over. The girl had talent, which was very apparent.



When we had plenty of items in stock we started placing them online. We didn’t have any luck for the first few weeks but when Jules was no longer grounded and we were able to scheme together, we had much better results. Jules had an idea to post them on this website where creatives can market their stuff.



Finally, through that, we had a couple of bites. At first, it was easier to sell the birdhouses because they weren’t as expensive as the paintings, but eventually, after the first sale, Jules’ paintings moved like hotcakes. Word of mouth had to have been the key factor there because we were doing little to no marketing. All the money we made we put into an interest bearing savings and slowly but surely after a couple of weeks had earned enough for both of our trips and a little spending cash a piece.



We even had a few extra dollars to invest in a couple of pairs of clothing for the trip and we agreed that we would each get a new suitcase. We even went out and bought the suitcases early to get ourselves really excited. Jules found this vintage steam trunk at an antique shop that she, and I quote, ‘had to have’. So I replaced the hinges, and oiled the leather and made it travel worthy. We were set and all that was left to do was wait for spring break. That was okay because we had lots to stay busy with.



The first game Jules could attend after she was grounded happened to be our homecoming game. That night, Julia sat in the stands with the most obnoxious mum my mom could have possibly made. She would have never worn those on her own. In fact, I’m pretty sure she inwardly gasped when she saw it. She thought them gaudy, but when my mom brought it out to her while we were watching television in my living room with my dad and Maddy, she acted really pleased with it and that warmed my heart. She was good to my parents. She loved them as if they were her own.



I could hear her shouting for me as we streamed onto the field between a line of cheerleaders and the drill team and that revved my adrenaline. We had a couple of minutes while each team readied themselves for the game. I sat on the sidelines on the metal bench, my back to Jules and my family. It would creak each time a player sat down or got up. I tried to turn my attention toward the game and focused on my feet.



I prayed really hard that it would be a fairly safe game for me because I was still pretty sore in the ribs from the fight at Tanen’s. I closed my eyes and searched all the sounds around me for Jules’ voice. She had stopped shouting for me, probably talking to my mom, but I knew I could find her voice even amongst the thousands of people in the stands so I scanned with my ears.



She usually sat as close to me as she could get. There was about twenty feet between the field and the stands, separated by the newly painted running track but I searched anyway. I could hear the faint rumble of the opposing team’s fans.



Bramwell and all the magnet towns that surrounded Bluefield High were in attendance that day, eager for the only real entertainment that was available in the area besides Charleston. I could also hear the cheerleaders’ voices shout in unison. Taylor’s voice was more apparent than the others because its shrill tone grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.



I quickly shoved them out of my head along with the crowd. I heard Coaches Miles and Sanders arguing about a few plays. I heard some of the guys around me and their conversations between each other, something about hitting up Babe’s after the game. I heard my cleat shudder back and forth out of nervousness across the grass. I heard the metallic hum of the streaming mesh of field lights beating down on my back.



Their heat produced small beads of sweat on the back of my neck. It felt nice against the chill in the air. I heard the stretching of my fingers against the plastic of my helmet. I shoved all of these noises to the back of my head as well and searched the stands behind me. I searched until I found my mom’s voice and sitting right next to it was the most gorgeous sound in the entire world. It’s melody steadily allayed all the anxiety I had felt about the game and it melted them away like a crayon left in the hot summer sun. I let the waxy tension escape from underneath its papery sheath and sighed at the peace it gave me.



“So have you thought about college at all?” I heard my mom ask Jules.



“Yes, I have Shelby. I’m thinking Penn,” Jules said.



“What a coincidence,” my mom said. “That’s where Elliott wants to go.”



The sarcasm in her voice cracked me up, but Jules ignored it. I’m sure Jules saw my shoulders shake with laughter.



“Shelby, you know me better than that. Do I look like the type of girl who follows a man around? I’ve wanted to go to Penn my entire life. Besides, it has an excellent English program,” Jules said without skipping a beat.



“I’m sure it does,” my mom said dryly.



I could just imagine my mom crossing her arms. She was still pretty sore about us falling asleep at Jules’ and that slightly changed her opinion of Jules. Don’t get me wrong, my mom still loved Jules like a daughter. She was just disappointed in her as well as myself was all and thought that we weren’t the best decision makers when it came to making the important ones together. She may have been right, but we were young and we made admittedly made a mistake.



“What do you and Elliott plan on doing if y’all break up at Penn?” My mom asked.



This was my mom’s way of ‘helping us grow up’ she would tell me.



“We would never,” Jules said.



But my mom interrupted, “Never say never.”



“Penn is a big school. I’m sure since we would have totally different majors we would never even see each other if it could be helped,” Jules said, trying to appease my mom.