“Allie—”
I hang up the phone before she can throw some cliché, hippie-dippy bullshit quote my way, like the only way to get over the pain is to go through the pain. I toss my phone down. Bracing my elbows on the edge of the table, I use both hands to push my hair back and out of my face and take a deep breath.
“So stupid,” I mutter to myself. I can’t believe I almost fell for her act. She’s not interested in a relationship with me. She’s still the same old self-serving, self-involved person she’s always been. How silly of me to think the death of my father would have changed things.
A faint crunching sound catches my attention and I whip my head around, seeking out the source. Along the black iron fence that separates the sand from the yard stands a form that I recognize, even with the pitch-black sky as the only backdrop. A beer bottle hangs from one hand and the cherry from his cigarette seems to float in the dark as he brings it to his mouth with the other hand. He sucks, causing it to burn brighter. I can tell he’s facing me, but he says nothing as he watches me…watching him. How long has he been there? More importantly, how much did he hear?
I look back toward the glass door where everyone is drinking and laughing and having a good time. I should go back inside, but after that little chat with my mother, the last thing I feel like doing is socializing with a bunch of strangers. Then I glance back over my shoulder at Jesse. He flicks his cigarette to the ground before stomping it out, then bends over to pick up the case of beer at his feet. “Wanna get out of here?”
I know it’s not a good idea. Encouraging him will only blur the lines, and boys like Jesse need boundaries. Very clear, very bold, written in stone, type of boundaries. Even as I tell myself all the reasons I should turn around and go back inside, I move toward him, unable to resist the pull. Call it morbid curiosity.
“What, no headphones tonight?”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan, but in reality, I did consider running upstairs to grab my CD player before I came out here, but the benefits didn’t outweigh the risk involved. “Where are we going?”
Jesse unlatches the gate with one hand and steps onto the sand. I chew on my lip and look back toward the house, second-guessing my decision to bail on Lo. Technically, she bailed first.
“She’ll be occupied for a while,” Jesses says, reading my thoughts. “Trust me. She won’t even notice you’re gone.”
I snort. He’s probably right.
“Grab a blanket,” he instructs, pointing the beer bottle in his hand toward a teal and black striped blanket with white fringe on the ends that’s thrown across one of the chaise loungers. I cock an eyebrow.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s to sit on.”
“Right.” I pluck the blanket from the chaise, wrapping it around my shoulders. “Lead the way,” I say, sweeping a hand out in front of me. He tosses his empty bottle toward the grassy area, then grabs two more, handing me one.
We sip our beers, walking in silence, with the angry waves in the lake as the only sound. The cold sand gets inside my boots, and I stop, handing Jesse my beer. He holds both our bottles in the same hand as I kick off my boots. I bend over to peel my black knee-high socks off before stuffing them inside my shoes. When I straighten, Jesse is staring at my exposed legs. His eyes flick up to mine and he shrugs, as if to say, You caught me. So, what?
“There’s a spot right up here.”
I nod, following his lead. It’s so much different than I expected. The lake itself looks big enough to be an ocean, but the sand is rough against my feet, as opposed to the fine, soft sand I’m used to. And instead of palm trees and little shops, there’s nothing but pine trees and wooded areas behind us. Eventually, he peels the blanket from my shoulders before spreading it out onto the sand. Goosebumps break out across my naked arms, but the alcohol is creeping in slowly, starting to warm me from the inside out.
Jesse sits first, his elbows propped on his bent knees, the brown bottle dangling between them as he stares out onto the dark lake. I drop my boots onto the sand before sitting next to him, hugging my knees and looking up at the sky. “I’ll never get used to that.”
Jesse follows my gaze. “What, the stars?”
“Yeah. You don’t see this in the city.”
I pinch a handful of sand between my fingers, then let it sprinkle back to the ground, my chin resting on top of my knees.
“Wanna tell me what that was about back there?” he asks, taking me by surprise. Leaning my cheek onto my knee, I look over at him, assessing.
“What, I can’t ask questions?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“Not those kinds of questions.”
“Okay. Let’s start small,” he says, cracking open another bottle. He holds one out for me in silent offering. I take it, feeling the condensation on my fingertips. “We’ll take turns.”
“Sure.” I laugh.
“There?
??s a catch,” he warns.
“With you, I’m sure there always is.”
Jesse cuts his eyes at me, mid-drink, but ignores my comment. “If you don’t answer, you have to drink.”