Absorbed

Chapter Twenty-Two

T he Centennial Olympic Games were beginning July 19th in Atlanta, and it felt like the whole world was excited. The opening ceremonies were expected to be the most viewed event on television since OJ on the 405 in the white Bronco.

To boost attendance at the pool, the City of Mesa Valley announced “Plunge Olympics” events for every morning and afternoon swim session over the span of the Olympic Games.

During their breaks, Stacey and the other lifeguards glued chocolate gold medal coins to yarn necklaces, and Bob made a makeshift medal podium in front of the guard shack, with an Olympic rings flag as the backdrop. The acting manager would be the official judge, and parents could take photos along with the possibility of some ending up in the Sun News.

On July 19th, Tiffany’s family hosted an opening ceremonies party and invited the crew over to watch as Muhammad Ali lit the Olympic cauldron and Celine Dion and Gladys Knight sang. Bob sat on the couch with Tiffany’s parents as the guards squished onto their living room floor, eating pizza and Red Vines. Stacey and Jessie sat on opposite sides of the room. He hadn’t made eye contact with her or Melissa since the party.

Thousands of people danced across the screen in bizarre red, green, yellow, white, and black costumes like monochromatic munchkins with their coordinated oversized drumkits being wheeled around the stadium. Sheets of Olympic-themed fabric, each longer than a football field, were pulled from the top of the stadium over the audience and down onto the field. The spectacle was unlike anything Stacey had ever seen before.

The crew commiserated with the sweating spectators in the stands in Atlanta, and ooh ’d and aah ’d at the giant puppets dancing to Louisiana jazz music. From the couch, Tiffany’s mom sang harmony with the Southern Gospel Choir.

About an hour into the show, Mark joked that he felt like he was on an acid trip—or needed to be—to understand what was happening on screen. Eventually he acted like he was going to the bathroom, but slipped quietly out the back door.

As the procession of each country’s athletes dragged on, Desiree whined, “Is the rest of the ceremony just national songs and flag waving?”

“Pretty much,” Tiffany’s dad said.

“Boring.” Chad chimed in.

“I’m heading out.” Bob stood, looking directly at the guards around the room. “I expect all of you to be on time for your shifts tomorrow. Thank you for having me,” he said, as he shook Tiffany’s dad’s hand. Her mom stood to give Bob a hug.

“Can we turn on the jacuzzi?” Tiffany asked her parents.

“Sure,” her mom said. “Can everyone head home by ten, though?”

“Of course,” Tiffany said, as she led the crew out back.

Mark was seated on the end of the diving board. There were no visible or pungent signs he’d smoked weed, but his face had relaxed into the jolly and sleepy look they all knew too well.

It was almost seven, and Tiffany’s house was high enough on the foothills to watch as the golden glow of the evening sky cast purple shadows over Mesa Valley.

Stacey sat between Melissa and Desiree on the warm concrete with their feet in the jacuzzi. Mark and the other guards made their way over to join them. They sat in a circle, like the glow of the light in the bottom of the swirling water was their crew’s version of a bonfire.

Mark took a joint from his pocket and showed it to Tiffany, lifting his eyebrows.

“Okay, but everyone be chill about it,” she said, looking over at the house to make sure her parents weren’t watching.

Another one? Isn’t he already stoned?

Mark lit the joint, took a deep breath, and held it. He offered it to Chad who took a hit before handing it to Desiree. By the end everyone had taken a turn, except Stacey.

“You sure? It’ll be totally different than when you were drunk. One or two hits and you’ll just feel chill,” Chad told her.

Stacey wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I’m still recovering from last week.”

The other guards passed the joint around one more time, and as Jessie exhaled the smoke from his lungs, he stared into the swirling water. “Did you ever want to be an Olympian? Or a pro-athlete?” he asked no one in particular.

“I did,” Tiffany said. “I always thought I was that good of a swimmer. That I could be a gold medalist.” She paused. “Turns out I couldn’t even get a scholarship for swimming.”

“But Cal State has a team, right?” Melissa asked. “You can still swim when you’re there even if you don’t have a scholarship.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Tiffany said. “I might try to play water polo, too. It’s just different, you know? I thought I was exceptional. But I turned out to be mediocre.”

Tiffany looked so disappointed, Stacey tried to reassure her. “There’s no way you’re mediocre, Tiffany. You were varsity captain.”

Tiffany lifted her eyebrows and bit her lip, staring into the water. “Captains are chosen for attitude, not skill. I rarely came in first place my senior year.”

Melissa put her arm around Tiffany and rested her head on her shoulder.

“When I was little, I wanted to be a figure skater.” Desiree was talking quickly, and even more high-pitched than usual. “I loved the pretty costumes and thought they were the most talented, beautiful people in the world. I asked for a sparkly, skirted leotard for my fifth birthday, and begged my parents to let me take lessons. I wore that leotard all the time, twirling around my living room, until I outgrew it.”

“If you’d been a competitive figure skater, we never would have met,” Chad said, pulling Desiree closer to him. “I don’t want to imagine my life without you.”

“Well, get used to it. When school starts, I’ll be in LA and you’ll be at CSUSB.” Desiree turned her face away when Chad tried to kiss her. “Anyway… It was a pipe dream. Figure skaters are tiny; I’m too top heavy. I never even got skates or took one lesson. Plus, the nearest rink is an hour each way, up the mountain. I would have to have had a nanny who drove me or something. And a private coach. Do homeschool. I don’t get how families do that when both parents work.”

The other guards nodded and umm-hummed their agreement.

“Did you guys hear about the X Games last year?” Jessie asked, still watching the water. The crew shook their heads, but said nothing, and he went on. “It was on the east coast somewhere. It’s like the Olympics of misfit sports: skateboarding, bungee jumping, dirt bikes...”

Jessie was smiling at the swirling bubbles like he was seeing something there no one else could see. His blue eyes reflected the green of the water. He wasn’t wearing his puka shell necklace anymore. The words “puka-shell-poser” rung in her head, and Stacey’s stomach dropped. She wanted more than ever to apologize for how she had hurt him.

“You know,” Jessie continued, a hint of bitterness in his voice, “it’s a competition for those of us who don’t have parents who will pay for uniforms, or take us to any sort of practice.”

The crew sat still, silent, eyeing Jessie.

“They’re going to have winter X Games this year,” Jessie said. “With snowboarding on a half-pipe and everything. I think it’s gonna be in the mountains around here somewhere.”

“That’s cool,” Chad said. “I tried snowboarding once. It’s fun, but tough. Totally different than skiing. Do you get up to the slopes much?”

“Not really. I always have to catch a ride from someone. Season passes are crazy expensive. I was thinking of getting a job up there this winter. Then I could board whenever I wasn’t working. Now that it’s getting popular, maybe I could give lessons or something.”

“That sounds awesome, man,” Chad said.

“I don’t know. We’ll see,” Jessie continued. “I’m just saying, the X Games are the kind of thing I’d want to compete in. Way more than those stuffy sporting events like they have for rich kids in the Olympics.”

“I was supposed to have a full ride,” Mark said, barely audible. He was laying on the deck beside Jessie, staring up at the sky.

“Where?” Tiffany asked.

“Texas A he wasn’t on her radar when she was a freshman. She’d never realized he had been a talented athlete. “Why couldn’t you have surgery?” Stacey asked.

“I did,” Mark said, “and twelve months of physical therapy. Spent my senior year on crutches. I was told to play at a community college first. They’d renew my scholarship if I came back to full capacity. I blew it out again my third game back. The pain was a real sonofabitch the second time. No amount of therapy helped. That’s when they started me on these.” Mark sat all the way up and took a prescription bottle out of his pocket, then shook it.

“What is that?” Desiree asked.

“OxyContin. They’re the only thing that really takes the pain away, but it doesn’t last.” Mark opened the lid and put a pill in his mouth. “They keep upping my dose. Now all I ever want to do is sleep. Without it, it hurts so bad I want to cut off my leg. But I can’t ever play sports again, so I might as well be knocked out.” He leaned forward to watch the swirling water like Jessie had. “Ever since I dropped out of college, my dad says I’m a loser. He used to sit front row at all my games.”

Jessie nodded with his whole body. “Parents fucking suck.”

Stacey thought about her mom. She could have gone ballistic when Stacey came home drunk. Or freaked out about unprotected sex. But she didn’t. Stacey never planned to tell her dad about any of it, but even if she did, she couldn’t imagine him calling her a loser.

“I’m sorry, Mark, but your dad’s an asshole,” Melissa said. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

“He’s actually not.” Mark shook his head. “That’s the thing. It’s just…I don’t know…it’s like when I got injured, his dream of watching me play college ball got shattered, too.” He looked up at the sky again. “Everything feels fucking pointless, now.”

“It’s not pointless,” Stacey said. “If you go back and finish school, maybe you could still coach or something. You don’t really want to keep working at the pool, do you?”

There was a collective groan from the other guards.

“No worthwhile team wants a coach who never played college ball.” Mark shrugged and put the bottle back in his pocket. “As for working at the pool, of course it’s not forever. But it works for now.”

“Bob’s gonna be at the pool forever,” Desiree said, smiling.

“Bob’s a PE teacher. And a baseball coach,” Tiffany said defensively. “He has a nice house and supports his family. The pool is just extra money over summer.”

“Not bad gigs.” Chad laughed, lifting an eyebrow in Desiree’s direction. “He gets to work with hot, young chicks in tiny shorts all school year and bathing suits all summer. Sign me up!” He wrapped his arm around Desiree’s waist and tickled her side, making her wriggle and squeal.

“Ew…don’t be gross! You’re talking about Bob!” Desiree pushed him away.

Tiffany asked, “What’s that creepy line from Dazed and Confused ?”

Stacey wrinkled her nose. “You mean that line about the sleezy guy getting older while high school girls stay the same age?”

“Damn right,” Mark replied. “That’s me!” He elbowed Jessie in the ribs and splashed water toward the girls with his foot.

“You guys are pigs,” Melissa said haughtily.

Chad and Mark made snorting noises. Jessie rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, Mark,” Stacey interrupted. “You’ve been on those pills for two years now? Your doctor keeps giving you more, but you’re still in pain? And smoking weed? Getting drunk to cope? Why aren’t you worried?”

“You can’t possibly go on like this for the rest of your life,” Tiffany added.

Mark stared across the hot tub at Stacey. “You think I’m a loser stoner?” His face was serious, with deep purple bags under his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before. I go to work. I do my job, don’t I?”

“Why do we have to have a plan for the rest of our lives?” Chad growled. “Mark’s fine! None of us know what’s gonna happen tomorrow. Let’s just live in the moment.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Jessie looked around. “Mark is one of the coolest guys I know. Why does he have to pretend he knows what the rest of his life should look like? Things are working out for him right now.”

“Because, dipshits,” Melissa hissed, gesturing with her hands. “Mark being a ‘cool guy’ isn’t the same as Mark being happy. Are you happy strung out all the time, Mark?”

“What the fuck is ‘happy’?” Mark glared at her. “We’re lucky if we get to string a few minutes of happiness together in a day.” He shook his head. “My parents genuinely love their jobs. They’ve been married twenty-five years and still like each other. But they’re not ‘happy.’ So, are you telling me I need to be in pain all the time, and never party, so I can end up with a nine-to-five and kids, but miserable? Fuck that.”

Melissa scoffed. “Some of us would prefer not to become bums, mooching off of our parents or the government until we die. We want to make something of ourselves. Doing that will make us happy.”

“Really, Melissa? Now you’re the expert on happiness?” Jessie spat back. “And you’re really happy sticking your fingers down your throat every time you eat something fried?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Melissa shouted. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” she added between clenched teeth.

“You act like your fucking track scholarship, law school, whatever—make you better than me just ‘cause I want to skate or ‘cause Mark wants to work at the pool. You don’t think it’s obvious to everyone that you’re fucking miserable inside, and you can’t be happy without tearing someone else down?”

Melissa had tears running down her cheeks.

“That’s enough, Jess,” Chad said.

“She gets to publicly humiliate me with her two-faced puppet Stacey, but I can’t say anything about her? Fuck off.”

Melissa got up and stormed away, Desiree trailing after her, sending waves sloshing across the jacuzzi.

Jessie stood and scowled. “What about you, Stacey?” he said. “Or do you only have something to say when Melissa is feeding you lies to repeat to her groupies?”

Stacey felt sick to her stomach, but she had told herself when the time came she would apologize to Jessie for what she’d said. She swallowed hard and exhaled, looking straight across the water at Jessie’s flushed face. “I’m not Melissa’s puppet. What you did hurt me. But I shouldn’t have lied or spread rumors about you. I’m sorry.”

Jessie’s eyes narrowed. “Suddenly you have such a change of heart? Now you don’t mean what you said and I’m supposed to just forgive you?”

“This isn’t ‘suddenly.’ I’ve had a really shitty couple of weeks, and it all started with you. It’s not like you ever apologized. Whether you forgive me or not is up to you.”

“Well, this has been the most depressing high EVER,” Mark said. “Chad, give me a lift home?”

“Sure, bud,” Chad said as the group stood.

Tiffany hugged Stacey goodbye while Jessie grabbed his skateboard from the front porch and started down the hill. Mark climbed into Chad’s passenger seat and they headed in the opposite direction from Jessie.

Stacey’s car’s headlights captured Jessie fading into the distance. There was no moon yet, and this part of the foothills had no streetlights along any of the narrow winding roads. She couldn’t imagine just driving past him and letting him skate home to their neighborhood in total darkness. She pulled the Silver Bullet up beside him and rolled down the window.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

Jessie looked ahead on the road, where it was pitch black for at least a mile. It was after nine and they were five miles from home. He looked back at Stacey, scrutinizing her. “If this is pity, or a plan to humiliate me again, I’d really rather get myself home.”

Stacey let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I meant it when I said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that stuff about you at Travis’ party. Get in.”

Jessie opened the passenger door and sat down. “Why did you?” he asked as he stood his skateboard between his legs and closed the door.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Because I was hurt. And embarrassed.”

“But why? I don’t get it. I liked you. I thought you liked me, too. We had fun together.”

She pulled away from the curb. “I liked you for a really long time, Jessie. When you finally noticed me, and kissed me, I thought it was because you wanted to be with me. Everything happened so fast. I wasn’t ready. Then, when I saw that you were still with Melissa, it crushed me.”

“Whoa! I’ve ALWAYS said I don’t want a girlfriend. You should have known that. We were just hooking up.”

“Why did you think I would just ‘hook up’ with anyone? I had zero experience before you.”

“No way. You’re hot and smart and you went to prom with that varsity basketball guy. Everyone has sex at prom.”

Stacey pulled over to the gravel at the side of the road and pulled the emergency brake. The headlights lit the winding, narrow road. She took a breath, then turned to face Jessie. “Are you talking about Ryan Johnson? I did NOT have sex with Ryan. Not EVERYONE has sex after prom, actually.”

Jessie rolled his eyes and shook his head, leaning back against the headrest. “He’s a starter on the varsity team. Of course you had sex with him.”

“Jessie, I never liked Ryan, and I was a VIRGIN before I went out with you!”

“Bullshit,” Jessie said in a sing-song voice as he stared at the ceiling. “That night at the movies you said you’d screw a different guy every day, and when it was just the two of us you told me ‘Maybe some people aren’t meant for monogamy.’” He held his palms up as though he’d presented proof that supported his argument.

“We were playing Would You Rather and I was talking about your parents!” Stacey said, exasperation creeping into her voice. “So, because I went to a dance with a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend, and I said ‘some people aren’t meant for monogamy,’ you assumed I just wanted to have sex with you, no strings attached?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, his expression genuinely confused. “Chicks always seem to want it, like in movies and stuff.”

Stacey cupped her forehead in her palms. “Are you talking about porn, Jessie? That’s not real. And what happened between us is not what I wanted.” Tears stung her eyes and her anger burned in her chest, but Stacey took a slow, deep breath and kept the tears in. She leaned her back against the door. “I was super excited when you asked me to watch the meteor shower and actually thought THAT was what we were going to do and maybe kiss again.” Stacey looked at her hands. Her voice grew quiet and shaky. “But…you moved so fast… I’d never done ANY of those things with ANYONE before. I wasn’t ready to have sex, but I was embarrassed to say no.”

Jessie looked back and forth between Stacey’s eyes in the dark car. “No way! Bullshit. You were totally into it. You never told me to stop.”

“You ignored me when I said to wait. You never asked if I wanted to; you just shoved your cock in me like some slot machine. Then you barely acknowledged me afterward,” Stacey said, her nostrils flaring. “Even if it hadn’t been my first time, I know THAT is not what sex is supposed to be like. You used me.”

“You never told me you were a virgin, and YOU totally ignored ME after.”

“I…what?” She shook her head. “You barely said anything when I dropped you at your house. You never called me the next day, or since.”

“Our phone is cut off.” Jessie closed his eyes and tilted back. His head banged against the headrest. “Most of the time our electricity, too. My dad never pays the bills.”

“That sucks, but it’s really no excuse.” Stacey clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking. “Melissa also really liked you. Neither of us was interested in JUST hooking up, Jessie.” She shifted in her seat and mumbled, “Why didn’t you wear a condom?”

“What? You didn’t tell me I needed to.” Jessie furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you on the pill?”

“I’d never had sex and didn’t think I was going to be having sex. I wasn’t on the pill.”

Suddenly Jessie’s eyes grew wide. “Are you…?” He glanced at Stacey’s stomach then back to her eyes.

“I can’t know for sure yet,” she whispered. “I hope not.”

“Shit!”

Stacey erupted. “Seriously? What the fuck, Jessie?” She hit him with the back of her hand. “This is my fucking life. My body. You did this! You have no right!”

“No! No. I know, Stacey! That’s…it’s not what I meant. I just…” He reached over and took Stacey’s hand. She bristled, but he held tight. “I mean, I hope not, for both of us. I was trying to have fun and NOT think about hard shit. Everything is… so fucked up!”

“Yeah, but I don’t have the luxury of not thinking about it.” Stacey looked out the windshield. “I had to tell my mom, and—.” She pulled free from Jessie’s hands. “We went to Planned Parenthood. The pregnancy test was negative, but they said it was too early. Same for the STD tests.”

Jessie’s face dropped. “STDs?”

“Haven’t you ever been checked? Seems like you have a lot of unprotected sex.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, his voice small and scared.

She turned back toward the wheel. “I need to take another pregnancy test.” She released the parking brake and put the car in drive. “Tomorrow.”

Stacey stepped on the gas, eager to get him home and out of her car. “You should go with me to Planned Parenthood and get tested for STDs. Then we can both know if we’re totally in the clear.”

“Okay, I can do that,” Jessie said, looking out the passenger window.

“And stop having sex without a condom.” Stacey kept her eyes on the double yellow line to navigate the curves in the road. “And make sure the girl you’re with actually says yes, that she wants to do it with you.”

“Slow down,” Jessie said.

“Exactly,” she snapped back. “Take things way slower!”

“No. The car.” Jessie strained to see where they were in the darkness. “I think you took a wrong turn.”

Stacey clenched her jaw and slowed. Scanning the dark fields around them, she realized he was right. They were far from any neighborhood and hadn’t passed a cross-street in awhile.

She began a three point turn on the narrow road. As she was backing up, a coyote trotted across the street in front of her car, then stopped in the middle of her high beams.

Jessie was still looking out the side window and hadn’t noticed. “Maybe if we go back—”

“Shhh!” Stacey kept her foot pressed hard on the brake, locking eyes with the coyote.

“Oh…shit…,” Jessie whispered.

Head held high, the coyote’s calm yellow glare burned through Stacey. It had long, strong copper-colored legs, but the tan-and-black coat was patchy on the animal’s side and chest, and part of its right ear was missing. There were deep scars on its narrow, red muzzle. The coyote had been through some violent encounter long before. Despite that, here it was standing firm in front of her car. Unafraid.

“That coyote is a fucking warrior,” Jessie muttered.

“I wanna be that brave,” Stacey whispered.

The coyote blinked, turned its head, and trotted into the brush. Its fluffy tail was the last thing Stacey saw before it disappeared back into the inky night.

Stacey eased her foot off the gas and straightened the wheel. She’d never felt more certain of where she wanted to go.