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  “Jeez, Jo.” Alarmed, I glanced up just in time to see Cole making his way to me. He had this funny look in his eye. I imagined it was the look a deer or other animal saw in the eyes of the hunter who was about to kill it. Determined. Hungry.

  Cole didn’t stop when he reached me. He caught me in his arms and without warning, his lips were on mine. Shocked, I didn’t know what to do. It was my first kiss and it wasn’t like he’d eased into it. But then, I felt Cole’s strong arms, cold from the creek water. I felt his chest pressed against mine. And my mind caught on to the fact that this was Cole, my best friend. My confidant. My protector.

  Cole’s lips moved over mine with a passion I never expected. We were only fourteen, for goodness sake! Before I knew it, my lips moved with his, meeting him pass for pass. His lips curved against mine as he smiled. He pulled back.

  “Man, I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” His eyes sparkled, and his grin was as big as I’d ever seen it.

  “You have?” I was still trying to catch up. And dangit, I wanted him to kiss me again.

  Cole reached out, brushing my hair back from my cheek. “Oh, yeah. A long, long time.”

  “Really?”

  Cole laughed, hugging me to him. “Is it so hard to believe, Jo?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” Pulling back from him a bit, I took a chance and looked into his eyes. He looked...happy. Really happy.

  Cole laughed again, sweeping me against his chest. “I guess I have some convincing to do.” And then he picked me up and tossed me into the creek.

  Two hours later, after splashing, kissing, holding hands, kissing some more, and dunking each other in the water, we sat on the grass in the sun to dry off. Cole’s hand enveloped mine between us.

  “Is this okay?” He glanced at our hands, his eyes looking a little guarded.

  “It’s a little late to be asking isn’t it? After you practically mauled me earlier.” He deserved a little teasing.

  Worried, he sat up, pulling me with him. “I mean it, Jo. I guess I should have said something first, but dang. You just looked so cute in your swimsuit and I’ve been wanting to for so long-” he sighed, his hand reaching up for the back of his neck. “I’m asking now.”

  My breath caught as I considered what he was saying. “What are you asking? Exactly.”

  Cole sighed and jumped up. He began pacing in front of me. Feeling awkward, I got up too.

  “Joie, I know we’ve been best friends forever. And I know this changes things. I’ve been so scared, thinking that maybe you wouldn’t want to, you know.” And I swear, his cheeks turned red. Taking a deep breath, he forged on. “But, I had to tell you. I love you, Jo. And I want this.” He waved his hands between us.

  Overwhelmed, I just stared at him. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? “Are you- Do you mean-” I clamped my lips shut.

  Cole grinned. He placed his hands on my shoulders and for the tenth time that day, leaned in so slow my eyes crossed trying to keep watching him until our lips touched. This kiss was different. It was slow and sweet and made me think of fairy tales and Prince Charming. After a breathless moment, Cole pulled his lips from mine. I was boneless, thankful he’d put his arms around me.

  “I think you need to be my girlfriend, Jo.”

  This made me laugh. “I need to.”

  Cole nodded, all seriousness. “Yes. Need. Like air. Like basketball.”

  I giggled again. Cole and his sports.

  “Please, Jo.”

  I wanted to say something. I did. But I couldn’t. The lump in my throat was too much. So, I did the next best thing. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

  Cole didn’t seem to mind.

  “Cole, don’t do this,” I begged, my hands somewhere between pushing him away and pulling him closer. I didn’t want him so close. He was getting past my defenses and it was going to kill me. Back in his room, without his amazing family to buffer things, I was thrust back to reality. The Parker’s. Cole. They were not my reality anymore. My reality was locked doors. Dehydrated soup for dinner. And my play. Finishing my play.

  Chapter 11

  Cole

  Apparently, things hadn’t really gotten better for Joie after her dad died. I’d felt nothing but relief when I heard he’d been in an accident on one of his business trips. At first, it looked like he might make it. His injuries weren’t major. He’d been flown home from who knows where to our local hospital. He needed surgery on his leg. Something went wrong on the operating table and they hadn’t been able to save him. Good riddance.

  Maybe I’m a horrible human being for thinking that, but he was truly the horrible human. After his funeral, Joie came to my house. We locked ourselves in my room and watched all eight Star Wars movies, even though she doesn’t like the prequels. We only left my room to refresh our popcorn supply and use the bathroom.

  Even then, with the awful circumstances with her dad dying, I’d been so attracted to her, it was almost misery being locked up with her. I tried with every fiber of my being to be a gentleman. I held her hand and sat still as a stone when she fell asleep on my shoulder even though my arm felt like it might fall off and I had the worst itch on my side that I couldn’t reach without waking her up. I mopped up her tears when she cried and fought the inner beast that still wanted to kiss her silly.

  I felt it all again. On my floor in my bedroom, all I wanted to do was kiss her. Sometimes, when I was especially lonely for her, I’d remember that perfect summer. I’d remember how completely whole I felt when I was with her. When she’d let me hold her hand, put my arm around her shoulders, kiss her. I missed kissing her. I’ve had a few girlfriends since Joie, had one now as a matter of fact. But I never felt the way I felt kissing Joie when I kissed any of them. It pissed me off.

  And so, I did something I knew I would regret.

  The moment my lips touched hers, my brain completely shut down. I was lost in the sensation of her lips. We’d changed since that summer when we were fourteen. Joie’s lips, at first unresponsive, soon began to move with mine. They felt fuller, tasted better than I remembered. My arms wrapped around her as I lifted us up to our knees. Deeper I kissed her, over and over. Her body, filled out and grown, molded to my own as I pressed her closer with my arms and hands around her back. I felt a deep satisfaction with myself, for the ways her hands moved over the muscles of my chest and shoulder. I was glad she liked it and I knew she did. Suddenly, I knew I would lift weights everyday just so Joie would touch me like this.

  With a groan, I licked the seam of her lips, begging her to let me in. And she did. The moment my tongue touched hers, I was lost. The feelings of love, friendship, loss. It all came crashing down. I pulled her closer-

  “No. Cole. Stop.”

  Stop. That word penetrated my hazy brain. I pulled away and shook my head. It was like waking up before being ready. I had to look at my surroundings to get my bearings. Right. My room. Joie was here, and she couldn’t go home.

  And I just kissed her.

  Without asking.

  Again.

  Sitting back on my heels, I rubbed my eyes with my palms. My body felt shaky, like just-got-off-a-roller-coaster shaky.

  “Cole-”

  I held up my hand to stop her. “Hang on. Just a sec.” It was that bad. I needed a minute. And I also needed to apologize. Right?

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to collect myself. I couldn’t even look at her. What the hell was I doing?

  Chapter 12

  Joie

  I thought when my father died all our problems would be solved. He was the one creating all the misery, right? I didn’t know how wrong I was. It was two days after my dad died that I found my mom in her room, in her bed, with a man she’d met at a bar the night before. I closed the door, ran to the bathroom, and vomited the breakfast I’d eaten earlier. I spent the rest of the day at Cole’s house.

  I woke the next morning filled with trepidation. I had no idea where my mom had gone the nigh
t before, but she wasn’t home when I finally trudged to my bed after another day with Cole. For the days leading up to my dad’s funeral, it was the same. Once the day arrived, I breathed a sigh of relief, not believing she could have a man in the house on the morning of her husband’s funeral. I didn’t know how wrong I could be. I didn’t get a good look at him, but he wasn’t the same man I’d seen two days earlier in the kitchen drinking milk straight from the carton.

  After the funeral, I spent the day wrapped in Cole’s arms watching movies. I didn’t tell him what was going on with my mom. I knew he felt relieved about my dad. It was as though the tension in his body that he’d been holding in for the last eleven years worrying about me was easing out of him. There was no way I wanted to ruin that. And so, I kept quiet.

  It never occurred to me to wonder why my mom had stayed with my dad all that time. I mean, why didn’t she just pack up and leave him? I really began to wonder, in the quiet of my room, when I heard her giggle in the darkness and I knew she hadn’t come home alone. Why? Was there something fundamentally wrong with her?

  One morning, I tip-toed out of my room, hoping to avoid any encounters with a half-dressed man in the kitchen, when I found her. She was sprawled on the couch in our living room. Her pretty blonde hair hung stringy and limp. A lit cigarette smoldered in an ashtray on the coffee table and her hands gripped a bottle of vodka. She wore a pink satin robe and her mascara was smeared all over her eyes and a new kind of fear took hold of me.

  I wanted to walk away. Before when she cried, I knew why, and I pitied her, just as I pitied myself. Her pain made sense to me then. But this? I didn’t understand this. Was she mourning? Grieving? Who mourned the loss of their husband by falling into bed with strangers? This made no sense to me and I felt incapable of feeling compassion for her. Here I thought things were going to get better. I started to turn around.

  “Don’t leave me.” The words rasped out of her mouth, barely above a whisper.

  “What?” I turned back to face her. Her hand reached out, begging me to hold it.

  “Everyone leaves me. Don’t leave me,” she whimpered.

  Wary, I took the steps to reach her side and knelt beside her on the floor.

  “Mom, what are you doing?” Tears clogged my throat and I choked on the words.

  “I can’t be alone, baby. Please don’t leave me alone.” She began sobbing then and thrashing on the couch.

  “Mom, I’m here. I’m right here.” I took her hand in mine.

  Her head lolled to the side and she passed out. Confused and hurt, I did the only thing I knew to do. I ran to Cole.

  I watched for days as my mother lost herself in alcohol and the superficial company of others who were even less capable than she. I thought about what she mumbled that day about being alone and I came to realize what was happening. For all these years I’d blamed my dad for all our problems. But once he was gone, suddenly, the rest of the picture became clear. My mother was as sick as he had been, just in a different way.

  Without really meaning to, I began to pull away from Cole. I didn’t understand it at first, but every morning as I braved the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and bumped into man after man, I realized something- I didn’t want to be like her. She was the one who married him because she couldn’t be alone. We never left him because of her, not because of him- because of her. And slowly, it ate at me.

  I didn’t want to be like her. I didn’t want to need anybody. I didn’t want to need a man. I didn’t want to need Cole. And so, I let him go. I let everyone go. The only friend I’ve allowed myself for three years was Eric. He wasn’t demanding. He made me laugh. And he had no idea about my family or Cole.

  But now, Cole was trying to get back in. Trying to make me feel. Make me need him. Need his family. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him I didn’t need him at all. That I would never be afraid to be alone!

  And then, his lips were on mine. His familiar scent surrounded me. His arms, full of muscle that hadn’t been there three years ago, wrapped warm around me. My lips, my body, responded just like it had before. Muscle memory. Love memory. And it was love I’d seen in Cole’s eyes seconds before his lips crashed into mine. Love. Desire. Desperation. I’d done that to him. But what about what he did to me? What it would do to me if I let him in again?

  Tears welled in my eyes behind my lids as I ran my fingers over his broad chest and I wished I could stay in this fairy tale forever. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

  “No. Cole. Stop.”

  It took him a second. His chest heaved and his eyes were heavy. He trembled.

  “Cole-” I didn’t know what to say.

  “Hang on. Just a sec.” He rocked back on his heels and scrubbed at his eyes with his palms.

  Go. I needed to go. Scrambling to my feet, I searched his room for my bag.

  “No. Wait.” Cole jumped to his feet and took hold of my elbow.

  “Don’t do this,” I begged him, hugging my arms across my stomach.

  “Do what? Be there for you? Be your friend,” he shouted.

  Our eyes held for what seemed an eternity. We’d been through so much together. Been there for each other so many different times. But it was too much. I didn’t want to rely on Cole. I needed him for my play but that was different. Emotionally I didn’t need him and being around him made me feel like I did.

  With a sigh, Cole let go of my arm. Picking my bag up off the floor, I started to leave.

  “Will you be safe there, Jo?” He was determined to chip away at my resolve.

  I wanted to turn around and throw myself back in his arms, but I didn’t.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Making my way out of Cole’s house was the easy part. I thanked Mrs. Parker for dinner and called out a goodbye to Mr. Parker who was mostly dozing in his recliner in front of the television. The sharpness of the frigid air outside was a welcome wake up call. Reality. Not fairy tales.

  The party across the street was still going full-tilt. Since there was no one on the front porch or in the yard, I used the ladder to climb into my room. The most important thing was to remain undetected. A lesson I’d learned the hard way. Using a bottled water and an empty can to spit in, I brushed my teeth. I prepped my room for a quick escape out of habit and then pulled on a clean pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt. After crawling under the covers in my dark room, I turned on my nighttime playlist and popped in my earbuds. It almost drowned out the sound.

  Of course, the fridge was empty. My mom had never been the cookies and milk after school type, but she at least used to keep the fridge stocked. Milk would have been nice since we still had two unopened boxes of cereal. Ugh.

  Dry cereal it is! Irritated, I searched the cabinets for a plastic bag to fill with cereal.

  “Hey, there. Who are you?”

  Startled, I dropped the box of cereal I held in my hands.

  “Oh. Good morning.” I evaded the question. How did one respond to that question from mom’s one-night stand. At least, I thought he was a one-night stand. They usually were.

  “Good morning.” His eyes squinted, like he was thinking, trying to place me. “Were you here last night?”

  He meant was I a partaker in the drunken revelry that had occurred in our house last night. I was, however unwillingly. “Umm. No. Not really.”

  I tried to avoid eye contact as I picked up the cereal box and set it on the counter. I could wait until lunch to eat. With my eyes on the ground, I moved to leave the kitchen. He blocked my path. This had happened before. Usually, I made a comment about getting to school or going to talk to my mom, anything to let them know I was underage- a kid. And usually, it worked. They let me go with a laugh. I’d learned to be quick.

  “You are a pretty little thing.” His perusal became intense. “Those eyes,” his voice trailed off as he reached for a lock of my hair.

  It took everything in me not to cringe away from his touch. I’d also learned doing that made them mad.

&n
bsp; “I need to get to school.” My voice was barely a whisper. He was younger than mom’s usual guy and handsome in cruel kind of way. He reminded me of my dad.

  I shivered.

  He smiled.

  “School? You’re Jeanetta’s daughter,” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “Yeah. I better get going. I don’t want to be late.” I hitched my backpack over my shoulder.

  He didn’t move out of my way. Just stood there. “You live here?”

  A cold dread settled over me. I wouldn’t answer him. He already knew what he wanted to know. “I have to go.”

  He straightened and smiled. “Of course.” He stepped aside and I skipped around him. “Have a good day at school.”

  He hung around longer than some of the others. We did our morning dance more two days in a row. On the third morning, I climbed out my window. The uneasy feeling that had been building since the first day I saw him had grown into a feeling of full on dread. I missed Cole. I wanted to turn to him. To tell him what was happening. But I wouldn’t.

  After school, I snuck into the house again even though it was empty. I didn’t want any surprises. I ate some chips and cookies from the vending machine at school and settled in for a long evening hiding in my room.

  Around midnight, I heard them come home. They walked by my door. Mom giggled, her words slurred as she spoke. His words were clear as he asked about my door.

  “My daughter, Joie,” mom tittered.

  Their muffled voices continued to another part of the house. I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.