BETH
I miss laughing.
Most days I can find something amusing to make my lips flinch up. Sometimes it will be funny enough to make me chuckle. But I miss laughing. Really laughing. Laughing to the point that my insides hurt, my chest aches, my face is exhausted from holding the smile.
For effect, Rico stands in the middle of the circle of lawn chairs and in slow motion reenacts how Isaiah and I kept him from being busted for underage drinking this summer by distracting a pair of cops with a very bad mime routine.
“I’m hiding in the bushes and if the police step back, they’d be on top of me. Beth’s just standing there,” Rico chokes out between laughs. “Her arm stiff at the shoulder and her forearm dangling back and forth like a pendulum. The cop asked if she needed medical help. He thought she was having a seizure.”
Everyone, including me, bursts into laugher. Rico composes himself to spit out the rest. “And she breaks her self-imposed silence and says, ‘I’m a mime, you moron. Why do you think I’ve been doing all these retarded moves?’”
Everyone laughs harder and as our group gasps for air Rico glances at Ryan. “Incluso el nino blanco se esta riendo.”
I’m not fluent in Spanish, but I know enough to pick out the words white boy and laughter. My heart shivers when I catch Ryan at the tail end of a chuckle. He’s always cute, but he’s breathtaking when he laughs.
Rico lifts his beer to his lips, then tosses it across the yard. “I’m out.”
Isaiah tips the cooler. “We’re all out, man.”
“Isaiah, help me snag some of Antonio’s stash, then we’ll hit the mota.”
Mota. Weed. The layer between my skin and muscles itches. I want a hit. More like I crave a hit—the smell surrounding me, the smoke burning my lungs, the feeling of freedom and floating. Oh God, I want more than anything to float.
Isaiah stands and Rico kicks my foot as he passes. “You’re in, right, Beth?”
It kills me to shake my head. “Curfew.”
I peek at Ryan. Does he know what mota is? The smile falls from my lips as I flip through the stories we’ve told. Oh crap, I feel sick. The drinking. The drugs. The parties. He heard it all. My stomach sways. He knows what I am.
“Beth,” says Isaiah. He waits until I look at him. “The stuff is mild. You’ll be sober by curfew.”
“Isaiah,” Noah warns.
Isaiah would never steer me wrong. If he says I’ll be sober in an hour, then I will be. He knows how much I long for weightlessness. A loud crashing noise comes from the house. I know these people. Ryan doesn’t. I can’t leave him defenseless. “No, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” Rico heads into the house. Isaiah stares at me and I don’t understand the gleam in his eye. Abruptly, he follows Rico.
In the hammock, Noah begins to kiss Echo. The two of them will be lost in their own world for the rest of the night and Isaiah will easily be gone ten minutes. The night has been fun, but it’s also made me the rope in a strange invisible tug-of-war. Ryan sat on one side of me. Isaiah the other. It felt weird to be next to both my best friend and the guy I really like.
Why can’t Isaiah see that we’re just friends? Friends only. I need to talk to him before I leave. I need to straighten this whole mess out. Honestly, I just need to hear him say that he didn’t mean it and that he’s still my best friend.
Ryan stands, stretches, and walks over to the tree on the opposite side of the yard. I glance over my shoulder at the house. I’ve been careful not to rub Ryan in Isaiah’s face, but I need to make sure Ryan’s okay too. Yeah, Isaiah will be gone for a while. Rico’s a slow tripper.
I follow after Ryan. “You don’t have to move for Noah and Echo’s sake.”
Hundreds of Christmas lights hang from the tree. His sun-kissed skin is beautiful under their glow. “I didn’t move because of them.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Then why did you?”
Ryan inclines his head and his eyes roam my body as if savoring the sight. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”
Warmth blazes on my cheeks and I break eye contact. Ryan reaches out and touches me. His fingers linger on my neckline and the whisper of his caress on my skin heats my blood.
“You should laugh more,” he says.
I swallow. “Life hasn’t given me much to laugh about.”
“I could change that.” Ryan invades my personal space and every part of him connects with a part of me.
I inhale and smell the delicious scent of earth after the rain. “You smell good,” I say.
His hand glides along the curve of my spine and into my hair. Chills energize my body. “So do you. You always smell like roses.”
I giggle at the thought of me smelling sweet and bite my lip to stop the girlish reaction. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
Ryan’s lips form that glorious smile with dimples and my blood tingles straight to my toes. This smile is for me and me alone.
“There are lots of things I want to say to you, Beth, and I want to be the first to say them to you.”
Intense hunger glazes his eyes. I’ve seen the same look on other guys, but on Ryan it’s different. That stare has more depth—more meaning—as if he’s seeing inside me.
“I want to kiss you,” he murmurs. “Do you want to kiss me?”
My heart beats faster. Oh, Ryan can kiss. I’ve stayed awake at night and replayed his lips against mine. His kisses are strong like him, possessive and demanding. Ryan said beautiful things to me in the barn and he touched me in ways I only dreamed someone could touch me. My fingers burrow into his thick hair. “Yes.”
Ryan lowers his head and I close my eyes. The anticipation of this moment creates an energy that sizzles in the autumn air. I’m going to do it. I’m going to kiss Ryan—sober.
“Fuck, Beth.” From behind me, Isaiah spits out the words.
I whirl around and barely catch sight of him bolting out the back gate into the alley. Noah falls out of the hammock and heads after him. I need to go after Isaiah, not Noah. I take several steps, but laughter from the house stops me. I can’t leave Ryan. “Noah!”
“Go home, Beth,” he says as he strides toward the alley. “Back to Groveton and don’t come back.”
That’s the deal we made. When we hugged and apologized to each other, Noah promised to let me stay and enjoy my evening if, when it was over, I left and never looked back. It wasn’t a hard promise to make. In a few weeks, I’ll be gone for good. “I can’t leave knowing he’s upset.” Because after tonight, I may never see him again.
“Just go,” says Noah.
“No!” I grab Noah and fling myself in front of him. “He’s mad at me. I know he gets upset when I make out with guys, but Ryan isn’t some random guy. I have to explain that to him.” I have to explain to Isaiah that he is not in love with me. “But I can’t go after Isaiah and leave Ryan here. You know what will happen if some of Rico’s friends see Ryan without you or me.”
Noah rubs his eyes. Yes, he does know. Ryan isn’t a part of our circle and is fair game for a good beating. Noah gestures for me to go after Isaiah. “Fifteen minutes, Beth. I mean it. You need to go back to Groveton and finish out your life there.”
I turn and flinch to find Ryan standing close with his hands shoved into his pockets. Hurt wounds the brown eyes that glowed with promise moments before.
“Ryan,” I stutter out. “He’s my best friend and he’s upset and…”
“Go after him.” Ryan crosses his arms over his chest. “But don’t string me along if it’s him you want.”
“What?” I shake my head. Ryan misunderstands. “Isaiah and I…we’re not like that.”
But I’m not going to waste time standing here arguing with Ryan over stupid jealousy issues when my best friend is upset. I push past Noah and run into the alley. A few steps into the darkness, strong hands grab my arms.
I suck in air to scream and I’m silenced by a familiar deep voice. “You’ve changed.” As if to prove his point, Isaiah shoves my wrist in front of my face and shows me Ryan’s pink ribbon.
“So have you. The Isaiah I knew would have run away with me and Mom when I asked. You left my mom with Trent and he broke her wrist! It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You used to take care of me!” My pulse thuds in my ears as I shove away from Isaiah.
The streetlamp attached to an aging utility pole flickers on and off. With each flash of light, a mix of anger and sadness crosses Isaiah’s face. “You used to let me take care of you. Now you’ve got some asshole jock doing your bidding.”
White-hot anger flashes through me. “Leave Ryan out of this. You’re the one PMS-ing like a girl. First you want to run away with me. Then you don’t want anything to do with me. Then you want to run away with me after graduation. Then you keep telling me to live my life in Groveton. Then you go and tell me that you love me when we both know you don’t.”
My heart jumps out of my chest when he punches his curled fists into the chain-link fence behind him. The metal of the fence vibrates. “Dammit, Beth.”
Isaiah clutches the fence and he bends over as if he’s ready to vomit. Not once in four years have I seen him this emotional. My hands shake with adrenaline. “I don’t understand.”
Isaiah swears softly under his breath. “I am in love with you.”
Ice freezes my muscles. He said it—again. “No, you aren’t.”
Isaiah spins and cups my face with his hands. I don’t feel warmth. I only feel cold. Cold and confused. He lowers his head so that his face is close to mine. “I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen. I wasn’t man enough to tell you, so Luke swooped in. You were so hurt after he used you that I swore to protect you until you could listen to what I had to say. I’m in love with you.”
My lungs tighten. God, I can’t breathe. Help me breathe. “You’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine. I want more from you and I’m begging you to please give me more.”
My throat becomes raw and slowly swells. “But you’re my best friend.”
His fingers gently move against my cheek. “You want to leave, I’ll go. I’ll take you now. We’ll get in my car, find your mom, and we’ll never look back. Your terms. Not mine. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Just say the words. Please say them.”
I love him.
Those words. My hand presses against his chest. His heart continues in the same steady beat I’ve come to depend upon. Isaiah is my rock. The string that holds me together when I’m ready to fall apart. He’s the anchor that keeps me from floating away when I go too far. His heart has been the one constant rhythm in my life and I don’t want to let it go. “I love you.”
Isaiah tucks his chin toward his chest and I force air into my lungs when he clears his throat. “You’ve got to mean it.”
I try to physically shake the tears forming, but his hold on my face makes it impossible. We haven’t talked for weeks, but I knew, in the deep recesses of my mind, that our separation was temporary. This somehow feels too real and that means this goodbye could be concrete. I can’t lose him. I can’t. “I mean it. I love you.”
Like a friend. Like my best friend. Before Groveton, I never understood love and now…I still don’t understand it. But I know that it’s not emptiness, I know it’s not letting a guy use me, I know there are different types and what I feel for Isaiah…it’s not how I feel when I’m with Ryan.
Isaiah rests his forehead on mine. “Like you love him. Tell me you love me as much as you love him.”
Ryan. Am I in love with him? The thought causes panic. Just the sound of his name causes my heart to trip over itself. I love the way Ryan makes me feel. I love his words. I love his hands on my body. I love the way his gaze causes me to blush.
But I have to leave Ryan soon in order to protect my mom. If I say the right words, Isaiah will go with me. “Isaiah, I…”
Once upon a time, I wondered if I was falling in love with Isaiah. Echo had hugged him and he happily hugged her back. The pain and jealousy that shot through my body surprised even me. But I wasn’t falling for him. I was scared of Echo. Scared of the changes she was bringing to our lives. Changes that would have happened even if she had never existed.
I stare into his gray eyes. Isaiah’s wrong; he doesn’t love me. Not in the way he thinks. The truth is there—in his eyes. He doesn’t look at me the way Noah does Echo or how Chris does Lacy. He doesn’t look at me the way Ryan does….
“I love you…”
I love Isaiah’s safety and I love his calm. I love his voice and his laughter. I love his constant, steady presence. But if the world were coming to an end, he’s not the person I’d want at my side. I love him. I love him so much that I know he deserves to have a girl who falls apart at his touch. He deserves to have a girl whose heart stops working every time he glances at her. He deserves someone who is “in” love with him.
“…as a friend. The same way that you love me.”
Isaiah shakes his head, as if doing that will make my words less true. “You’re wrong.”
He presses his lips against my forehead. My lower lip trembles as I ball the material of his shirt into my hand. I’m losing him. I’m losing my best friend.
“I’m not,” I say. “And someday you’re going to figure it out.”
“If you change your mind…” There’s a heaviness in his voice, and a part of me dies at the thought of him in so much pain. He touches his lips to my forehead once more, the caress lasting longer, the pressure more intense. Isaiah walks away from me and fades into the darkness.
“I won’t,” I whisper as I close my eyes and wish that one day, he’ll change his.