Chicks, Man

The sun is hotter than usual for July. “Why does it have to be so hot?” I gripe, smoothing my frizzy hair down. I spent all morning trying to make it look nice because Kipley was having his friends over to swim in our pool. Too bad five seconds outside and it’s back to resembling Einstein on his worst day. My feet skip from side to side, debating on going over there. Mom bought me a new tinted Chapstick, and I want to show it off. It makes me look older, like the girls Kipley hangs out with. Ben tosses his shirt to the side and jumps in while Chase pushes my brother in. Laughter fills the backyard, and I can almost feel the burst of coolness on my skin as the water spreads and they disappear underneath.

The moment my eyes drift away from the water to him, an inferno of heat blasts through me. I feel like I’m on fire watching as his smile burns into my memory. His stance is casual and laid back as he lifts his shirt over his head, exposing his tan, muscular stomach. I swallow, my throat dry, as he tosses his shirt onto the lawn chair and takes an impressive dive into the pool.

I skip across the lawn, throwing my pink towel on the chair next to his shirt, and make myself comfortable. It’s my pool too. Kip waves at me, and I wave back, ignoring the noises Chase makes at me. I adjust my chair and press my sunglasses up my nose, pretending to read a magazine. My young mind wanders, and I imagine I’m in the pool, laughing along with them. I can’t reach the bottom, so Levi comes and scoops me up, carrying me in his arms as we float in the water. His laughter is meant for me, and his eyes stare into mine, silently telling me he knows we’re soulmates and he can’t wait to marry me one day.

“Hannah, you need sunblock. You’re starting to burn.” I don’t realize I’d dozed off until Levi’s large frame blocks the sun as he leans over me. “Here, give me your sunblock. I’ll get your back.” His willingness creates a tornado of butterflies in my belly. I hand him the bottle and turn to offer him my back.

“You’re burning up,” he says, his hands feeling like fire against my skin. “You’re burning up, Hannah,” he says again, and I groan under his tortured touch. His hands start to sizzle against my skin, and I howl out in pain.

“Jesus, there you are! You passed out on me for a minute.”

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

The faint memory of that day at the pool evaporates into the back of my mind as reality settles in. Levi’s hands disappear, Braydon’s in their place. He presses his hand to the side of my ribs, and I scream out in pain.

“I know it hurts. My dad is on his way. I had to put a bandage on to help stop the bleeding, and you passed out on me. We can’t have you dying. I won’t let you.”

My eyes fill with dread as tears pour over. My lower lip quivers with doubt. “Braydon, I need more than your dad. I need a hospital.” The fact that I’m still alive gives me some hope that he didn’t puncture anything major, but the severe dizziness confirms I’m losing a lot of blood. I can’t gauge how much longer I can fight this. “Please, call 9-1—”

“No! I told you I can’t do that.” He becomes agitated, pressing too hard on my wound. I yelp, blinded by the pain. “Shit!” he eases up and falls back against the couch, sitting on the floor next to me. His hands rub over his face, smearing my blood down his cheek. “This is all his fault. I should have convinced you to leave with me sooner. Not allowed him to get in your head. Then you wouldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t have hurt you.”

He’s still talking about Levi. “Levi didn’t do this to me, Braydon, you did. If you want to make it up to me, help me. Call someone.”

His head shakes back and forth furiously. “No. I told you. I can’t. I’ve gotten this far, I won’t ruin everything I’ve worked for. You’ll be fine. Just…be patient.” He kicks his legs out to stand. Pacing the room, my eyes catch something or someone lying between the living room and kitchen. My heart sinks at the familiar floral dress I saw Clara in some time earlier.

“Oh my god, Braydon. What have you done? Is…is…did you kill Clara?”

Braydon stalls, his back to me as he stares off at Clara’s lifeless body. “You should have never come here, Hannah. Everything was set in place. She was handled. But you had to stick your nose in it and couldn’t let it go. The case was closed. Dead in the water. You should have let it be!” The last of his words are hissed in a raised, angry tone.