Chapter 11 - Jael
An hour later, I’m settled on the couch with the rest of the group, laughter spilling freely as we swap stories and relive memories from back in the day.
Despite my initial worries about how awkward it might feel hanging out with this group, I’m hit with an overwhelming sense of ease—like slipping into a favorite old sweater.
There’s a comfort here, an effortless connection with these people who knew me during my most vulnerable, awkward at times and formative years.
They understand the family that I came from and have no judgment. They saw me at my worst and still chose to love me, and that kind of bond is something I haven’t felt with anyone ever since.
The room hums with energy as we keep up the playful banter, roasting each other and laughing about all the ridiculous things we used to do. Rhett brings up the time that we ran from the cops after stealing slushies from Fred’s and I laugh so hard beer snorts through my nose.
It’s the kind of laughter that leaves your cheeks aching and your stomach sore, and for a moment, I forget the weight of everything that’s brought me back to this town and all the pain that used to linger in the memories here.
Maybe coming back for this short visit will help me rebuild the memories I left behind into positive ones so that when I leave in a month, I’ll be able to look back fondly on my time in Whitewood Creek instead of ignoring the years I spent here.
Maybe I’ll come back to visit these friends in the future.
At some point, the conversation shifts, and Molly leans closer to me, asking me about the whirlwind that’s been my life—my broken engagement, the messy details about why I’m back to settle my father’s will.
“Ugh, I’m sorry about your dad,” she shakes her head, “I swear no one in that trailer park had parents who were looking out for them but Rhett.”
I nod my head because she knows better than anyone the complicated emotions that come with the relationship I had with my parents. “Thank you.”
She nods. “I haven’t spoken to mine since he didn’t show up at Maverick’s funeral.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”
She sips her water and nods. “Thank you. Even though I hadn’t seen Mav in years, it always felt good knowing he was still out there.
Most days I don’t even realize he’s gone.
Like maybe he’s just busy with his friends or working and that’s why we haven’t seen each other in a while.
” She shrugs. “I wish my kids had been able to meet him. I like to think that if he’d been an uncle, he would have had a reason to change. ”
I swallow and nod before squeezing her hand gently.
The guys are engrossed in their own debate over plumbing issues and football. It feels good to let someone from my past in, especially given Molly’s own journey back to Whitewood Creek – a messy divorce from an abusive ex-husband.
My eyes lock with Rhett’s from across the room, his confident grin stretching wider as he tosses me a wink in the middle of his conversation. My heart stumbles at that simple gesture, and I force myself to turn back to Molly like I’m unaffected.
Molly laughs gently. “Oh, okay, I see what’s happening here,” she whispers as I shake my head.
“What do you mean?”
Lainey’s voice cuts through the noise, announcing the start of our first game.
Molly nods at Rhett, something silent passing between them before she turns to me. “I’m going to grab a snack. You want anything?”
“Uh, no thanks.”
She slips away and just like that the space beside me is left wide open.
Rhett doesn’t hesitate. One second, he’s across the room, the next he’s sliding onto the couch next to me.
He doesn’t say a word, but his leg bumps mine as he settles in, sending a little jolt through me that I do my best to ignore.
It’s just Rhett. The boy who made my summers hell and heaven all at once, my childhood partner in crime, the one I used to secretly daydream about even when I swore that I hated him.
And sure, maybe I had feelings once—big ones—but that was a lifetime ago.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Still, when I sneak a glance his way, he’s already looking at me, that quiet, knowing smirk pulling at his lips like he can hear every lie that I’m feeding myself.
The air between us feels heavier now, charged with tension, and my breathing is slowing.
I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or Rhett that has me feeling dizzy.
I look away for a second before finding his gaze again like a magnet. And God, he smells good. Whiskey and cologne, warm and sharp all at once, curling around me until it settles low and deep in my stomach, leaving me wishing I wasn’t so damn aware of him.
“What?” I ask.
He smiles. “Nothing… Just remembering.”
I can’t help but wonder what he’s remembering and if it’s that night before graduation, the way it felt to finally give in to what had always been simmering under the surface.
Our first time.
◆◆◆
“Rhett?” I whisper into the darkness around the lake, my voice barely carrying over the steady hum of crickets and the soft rush of the water in the distance.
The lake behind our trailer park isn’t much, but it feels comfortable and familiar to me on nights like this. But it’s pitch black out here and I can hardly see which means despite it being one of our favorite places to hang out, I’m on edge.
If Rhett doesn’t show up soon, I’m gonna scream.
The creek our town was named after—a glorified river this time of year, swollen from weeks of heavy rain—pours into the lake on one end and trickles out the other.
It’s not huge, not by a long shot, but it’s big enough.
Big enough for people from town to fish off its edges or for the occasional boaters to glide lazily across its surface on a sticky summer evening.
Thankfully, it’s not quite summer yet, and it’s already past ten at night. No one’s here now. No one except me. My mom is long gone for her night shift at the bank, and my dad... well, he’s doing whatever it is that he does with whoever he does it with, God knows where.
It’s not uncommon for me to slip out of the trailer once my mom’s gone to work and my dad assumes I’m asleep or forgets that I even exist. The truth is, even if either of them did come home and realize I wasn’t there, they wouldn’t care enough to look for me. That’s just the way it’s always been.
The thought makes my stomach tighten, but it’s gone the second that Rhett steps out from behind one of the tall trees at the water’s edge.
It looks like he was waiting for me, debating whether he should even do this.
Rhett normally looks calm and confident but there’s a nervous edge to him tonight.
The moonlight cuts across his face, catching the edges of his jaw and cheekbones, and the faintest smile tugs at his lips.
“Okay, creepy. How long have you been standing there?”
He grins. “Only for about five minutes. I wanted to see if you’d run. Ready for sex-ed class?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t make me any more embarrassed than I already am.”
“Well class is in session, Jael, and I’m your teacher today. Remember that. That means you show me respect.”
I snort. “Okay, Mr. Miller.”
“You know what, I like that.” He stretches out his hand toward me and I realize he’s holding an old banana in his palm.
I wrinkle my nose. “Why did you bring that? It looks like it’s been sitting on your mom’s counter for the last three weeks. In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw that one there last week and it was already black.”
“I brought it for practice. I’m going to demonstrate to you how to give a good hand job. Don’t worry, it’ll stay peeled. Both bananas,” he says winking as he nudges it my way again. “Take it.”
I sigh and roll my eyes but take the overly ripe banana anyway.
“Okay, now take it in your hand. You want to grip it firmly, but not too firmly.”
I wrap my fingers around the width of it in a way that I think gives the perfect amount of pressure.
“Jael, you’re squishing it.”
“It’s one hundred years old. I can’t help it. It’s too soft.”
He smirks. “That’s what she said.”
I roll my eyes. “Are sex-ed teachers this immature?”
“No. Not stay focused and try again.”
I attempt another hold. Right pressure, check.
“Okay, how does this look?” I ask, shoving the blackened banana in his face.
“Yeah, that seems okay. And then you’ll provide movement up and down with firm, but not harsh or aggressive pressure. Try to keep it even. You don't want to rip the skin off, but you don’t want to be too gentle, or the guy won’t feel it.”
I do my best to follow his instructions, medium pressure, upward movements and then back down, but the old banana starts to crack at the corners, and bits of the mushy insides spill out from between the peel.
“Ew. This is disgusting and now my fingers are all sticky.”
He rolls his eyes, looking at the mess I've made, then tosses it, peel and all into the lake. “If that grosses you out, how are you going to handle touching a dick?”
“A hard banana would have been a better idea. Can’t you just show me with yours? So, I can see what I’m in for?”
Rhett’s eyes widen as he takes a step backward. “Whoa now. You’ve never seen a dick before?”
“Landon mooned our class during recess in the eighth grade if that counts. Our biology textbook has some graphics of one in the appendix. And then I took your advice and did Google it, of course.”
His eyes narrow as he smiles. “Well, I don’t know if this is a good case study for you. I’m bigger than all the guys in our class and probably any guy that you’ll ever encounter in college.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so full of it. You know that, right?”
He grins. “Okay, but I warned you, Jael. Once you see me, no other guy will ever compare.”
“I appreciate the warning, but I think I’ll survive. I’m sure I’ll be seeing tons of cocks someday. So many they’ll just be slapping me in my face with their different widths and lengths while I walk around campus next year.”