Jermaine’s father was not only the town pastor but also a very big man. Not even a risk-taker like Rowdy would tangle with Pastor Johnson.
We all poured out of the Blazer. Grandpa drove off with Jermaine and after a quick, “Thanks, Maren,” Dane took off jogging down the street, leaving Noah and me standing on my lawn alone.
We stared at each other for a few minutes before he spoke. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I sniffed and averted my eyes, burying my hands in the pockets of my zip-up hoody. “That’s funny because you hardly speak to me anymore.”
The way he was watching me, with absolute focus, was a little unnerving. Different from how he usually looked at me and I didn’t know what to make of it. He stepped closer and my heart sped up. Reaching out slowly, he grabbed hold of my zipper and pulled it up higher.
“It’s too hard being around you now.” He said it so low I almost missed it, the words blunted by a gust of spring wind that promised a storm was on its way. And at the time I wished I hadn’t heard because it hurt. Boy did it hurt. My stomach twisted in knots hearing that he didn’t want to be around me anymore.
“Why?” He’d hurt my feelings and I needed to know what the hell had changed so drastically that he couldn’t bear to be near me anymore.
He looked troubled, evading my eyes. “Why, Noah? What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s me. It’s…” His gaze dropped, his face scrunching up. “You’re not supposed to want to kiss your best friend. It ain’t right.” He chuckled after. It was dry and humorless and I could tell the admission embarrassed him.
Meanwhile I was in a daze. He might as well have dropped that bull on my head. He wanted to kiss me? My heart was doing somersaults, practically jumping out of my chest.
This was the best news ever.
“I mean…it’s not totally wrong,” I muttered. I tried. Boy did I try.
His eyes returned to me narrowed. “Yeah, it is. I have a girlfriend and you’re my best friend. But I’m gonna do better.” He shook his head. “I promise I won’t let it get in the way anymore.”
This was the worst news ever.
“Better get inside. It’s late.”
In a funk, I dragged my sorry-ass feet up the porch steps.
“Maren,” he said as I was about to disappear inside. I turned and met his gaze, steady and warm on me. “I meant what I said––I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I nodded. Whatthefuckever. He didn’t want to want me and it dug a hole in my gut. “What I mean is I never want to be without you.”
“Okay,” I answered because I didn’t want to be without him either. We just wanted it in different ways.
* * *
“Where do y’all keep the romance books?”
Across the empty room of the town library, sorting books behind the counter, my mother glances up and smiles. My mother taught high school English until Annabelle got sick. For the first five years, Bebe’s illness required a lot of care and my mother was forced to retire. Once my sister was well enough to resume her studies, she began working part time at the library.
I’m not the type to hold a grudge…well, I mean…unless someone cheats on me. Which is why I’m here––to apologize for my little outburst at dinner. It wasn’t fair to them. How can I be upset when I’ve never once, over the years, given them any indication that it bothered me? That street travels both ways. I own half of the blame.
I walk around the counter and straight into my mother’s open arms. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner and said all those mean things.” Tucking my face in her neck, I sniff, hunting and finding the faint scent of old paper and Calvin Klein Eternity, so familiar and comforting it draws a smile on my face.
She hugs me even more tightly and pats my back. “Never apologize for your feelings, honey. They’re always relevant.”
I pull away. And as she considers what to say, a heavy frown forms on her face. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I felt guilty. You guys had to deal with so much already.” I shrug. “It sounds petty––even now.”
“We could’ve talked about it. Worked something out. Stayin’ quiet never helped anybody.” Her expression grows determined. “I spoke to your father and we’re coming to your next match––”
“Mom, that’s not––I don’t want you to do anything out of guilt. Guilt is a goddamn affliction in this family.”
“Watch your tongue, young lady,” she scolds with a mischievous smile.
“I need you guys sometimes. So from now on, when I do, I’m gonna say something.”
My mother nods and pulls me in for another hug. This one practically crushing my ribs. It’s like being hugged by a meat grinder. “That’s a deal.”