Rhode Island
Senior Year
It was only when David’s kisses moved from my lips to my neck that I realized the rain had stopped. He rested his head in the crook of my neck, right against my racing pulse, and smiled up at me.
I wondered if he could hear it breaking. My heart, that is.
I looked up at the sky, the rooftops, anywhere to avoid seeing the total contentedness in his eyes. The last time he’d looked at me that way, he’d told me he loved me.
I love you, Kelse. I always have.
I knew it was still true, but I couldn’t let him say it. I didn’t want to hear it, didn’t deserve to hear it.
My body tensed when he leaned up and brushed his lips against my ear, but he only whispered, “Come inside and dry off.”
I nodded and let him help me down from the car. He didn’t release my hand once my feet were safely on the ground, though, and when my Tiffany bracelet caught between our wrists, guilt bloomed like a lead flower in my chest.
“One second,” I said, pulling my hand from his and running back to my car. I snatched my wet hoodie off the headrest, knowing it wouldn’t do much good to keep me warm, but at least I wouldn’t have to stare at the reminder of Ryan beneath my sleeve.
“Dad?” David called as we entered the house. “Dad? You asleep?”
“I’m in the living room, David. Everything all right?”
A lump rose in my throat. With everything he’d been through, everything he was still going through, his first concern was still his son. I could use a lesson in that kind of unselfishness.
“Everything’s fine. Kelsey’s here.” I poked my head around David’s back and waved.
Mr. Kerrigan’s eyes widened. “What on God’s green Earth happened to you two? You look like drowned rats.”
David laughed. “We sort of got caught in the rain. I’m gonna get her a towel so she can dry off before she goes home.” He turned to me and smoothed wet strands of hair away from my face. “Not that you have to leave right away. You can hang out, if you want.”
The tenderness in his touch made my stomach sick.
I shook my head and looked at the floor. “I can’t stay long.”
Something flickered in his eyes, something I imagined to be a warning he ignored. “Come on,” he said, leading me by the hand to the bathroom.
Once we were inside, he shut the door behind us and peeled his drenched shirt off his body, tossing it into the dryer.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him shirtless. But it was the first time I’d seen him shirtless and felt my whole body react. The inside of my mouth grew as dry as the rest of me was soaked, and my heart still raced as if I’d run a marathon.
“Give me your sweatshirt,” he said. I forced myself to look at the floor as I handed it to him, pretending the tiles were the most interesting thing I’d ever seen.
David slammed the door to the dryer and turned it on. Then he closed the distance between us until he had me sandwiched between his body and the bathroom door. The warmth of his skin radiated in the most cruelly inviting way as he kissed my hair and moved his hands beneath the hem of my shirt.
“Should we get you out of these wet clothes?”
“David!” I shoved him away and stepped around him, hugging my arms over my chest. “Your father is right outside!”
“Sorry,” he said with a laugh. “Trying to make up for lost time, I guess.”
He started toward me with his arm outstretched like he meant to stroke my hair again, but I recoiled. His arm dropped to his side and his eyes narrowed in confusion.
I forced a weak smile. “Please just get me a towel, okay?”
He stepped past me toward a pile of folded clothes sitting on the washing machine. “Um, here.” He held out a folded black T-shirt. “You can wear this. I’ll get you some pajama bottoms. Leave your clothes here tonight and I’ll wash them for you.”
I blinked at the shirt in his outstretched hand and blurted, “I can’t go back to Ryan’s wearing your clothes.”
I watched his face as my words registered, saw his smile falter and his arm drop ever so slightly.
“Right,” he said cautiously. “Violet’s there too. We should probably talk to both of them before they see anything like that.”
I looked at him in bewilderment. “It’s that easy for you? Don’t you care about her?”
“Of course I care about her. But, Kelse.” He took another step toward me. “I came here for you.”
My knees wobbled. “Please don’t say that.”
David hedged another step closer, still holding his shirt. Still not wearing one. “Why wouldn’t I say it? You went off on me once before because I waited too long to say something, and now you don’t want to hear it?”
I pressed my lips together as if to keep my next thought from bursting free. It didn’t work. “I went back for you that night.”
David looked at me like the words didn’t compute. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to know how I knew you were with Isabel? Because I saw you. I went to Maddie’s to make things right, and you were already over it, David.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions flashed across his face, everything from shock to disgust. “Over it? I was anything but over it, Kelse. I knew exactly what I wanted when I kissed you that night, and I thought you did too.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I said helplessly.
Anger flashed in David’s eyes. “Funny, but I thought what happened out there was your way of telling me you do know what you want. I guess it was more like your way of shutting me up?”
“David, Violet is my friend and I—” My voice cracked. “I love Ryan. I can’t do this to both of them.”
“You love him,” David repeated robotically.
I nodded.
“So you figure you’ll hurt me instead since, hey, you did it once already. Must be like riding a bike by now.” The bitterness in his tone made every hair on my body stand on end.
I started toward him but stopped short, knowing I’d only make things worse. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Then or now. But you and I are both with other people, and it doesn’t make sense to throw them away because we got caught up in the past. This was a mistake.”
David’s jaw clenched. He turned away and gripped the edge of the washing machine, the muscles in his arms and back defined with tension. Considering his nail beds were white against the surface of the washer, his voice came out surprisingly even when he spoke. “So you want to pretend nothing happened.”
When I didn’t respond, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. I tried to swallow even though my tongue felt like an overstuffed pillow, and nodded. “I’m sorry.”
He turned to face me and for a split second held my gaze. Challenging me. Waiting for me to break down and throw my arms around him and kiss him again. A split second more and I might have done exactly that.
“Fine,” he said. “Then everything I said before you didn’t kiss me still stands.”
He stormed past me and out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. A whimper escaped my throat and I buried my face in my hands. The last thing he’d said before I’d kissed him was that he was cutting me out of his life. He’d gone from never wanting to see me again to wanting to leave his girlfriend for me, and then back again.
I didn’t want him to leave Violet for me, and I didn’t want to leave Ryan for him.
Did I?
I paced the floor, telling myself I’d made the right call even as tears burned my eyes and fled down my face. I told myself that what I’d done had everything to do with loose ends and guilt and the heat of the moment creating a massive black hole in my judgment, and nothing to do with lingering feelings for David.
All those things explained everything. Everything except why my body ignited all over again every time that kiss replayed in my head. Then I’d think about Ryan and a heavy, cold guilt would come crashing down on me.
I stood in front of the mirror and demanded my reflection to get ahold of itself, smudged mascara, tangled hair, and all. The remnants of Candy’s shamrock bled down my cheek. I grabbed a tissue and wiped my face with one hand while scraping my fingers through my matted hair with the other. Half of me hoped Ryan would still be drunk enough to accept whatever explanation I’d give him. The other half didn’t know how I’d be able to face him at all.
My jeans were stuck to my skin and filthy. My sweatshirt couldn’t have dried after such a short time in the dryer, but I couldn’t stay there to wait for it. David didn’t want me in his life, much less in his house, and Ryan would be worried if I didn’t get back soon. And suspicious, like he’d been since day one. Book smarts might not have been his thing, but my boyfriend was obviously no fool.
I snatched my sweatshirt from the dryer and sucked in a deep breath as I reached for the doorknob. Light from the TV still flashed against the walls down the hall, but Mr. Kerrigan wasn’t on the couch when I got to the kitchen. Another wave of guilt washed over me as I assumed he’d heard the door slam and gone upstairs to see if David was okay.
As quietly as I could, I slipped out the door to the back porch and into my car. I immediately grabbed my purse from the backseat and called Ryan on my cell phone.
“Kelsey?” Ryan slurred. “The hell’s taking so long?”
I couldn’t tell if I’d woken him, or if he’d broken his promise and kept drinking after I left. Part of me hoped for the latter. Because after what I’d just done, I deserved to be lied to.
“Sorry. David was really drunk. I had to . . . help him inside. How’s Violet?”
“Out cold. Crowley and Candle are gonna crash in the basement with her. Hurry up and get back here so you can crash with me.”
“I’ll be back soon.” I paused. “Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
For a moment it was all there on the tip of my tongue. I wanted it off my chest, and I wanted him to forgive me. But the words retreated to the back of my throat, and I had to say something else or suffocate on them.
“I love you.”
“Love you too, babe. See you soon.”
Tears threatened again as I hung up the phone, until a glint from the bottom of my purse distracted me as I put it away. I reached in and came away with something silver and round in the palm of my hand.
“Oh, God,” I said aloud.
It was the Saint Christopher medal Ryan had given to me on the first day of school. The one that had reminded me of David because he’d had one exactly like it clipped to the visor of his beat-up Chevy. The one that made me freak out about my past even before I’d known the damn thing would be a premonition of the future.
Staring at it in my hand, I felt like it mocked me, reminded me of how badly I’d screwed up both then and now. Finding it at that exact second had to be the universe’s way of flipping me off.
My fist closed around the medal and my teeth gritted. I opened the car door and prepared to throw the medal as far as I could, but my arm wouldn’t cooperate. It froze in midair and my fist refused to release.
So with a frustrated noise ripping through my chest, I flung it back to the depths of my purse, started my car, and tried to get used to the rock of self-loathing that would sit in my stomach from that moment on.