14. Tessa
14
Tessa
B eau drives for a long time and stops at a field just outside of town. We used to come out here in high school for parties. Some idiot would start a bonfire in a dry cornfield and pass around beer and a few joints. The guys would turn their headlights on so we could see enough to stumble around and dance way past our curfews. When I think about it now, it was so stupid. Anything could have happened, but we were young and lucky.
When we get out of the car, I climb onto the hood and pat the metal beside me. Beau climbs up, laying back against the windshield. This way, our arms are touching from shoulder to elbow and the contact settles me more than I expect it to. We stare up at the twilight sky, the stars just beginning to show.
“I hate sunsets.” It’s random and Beau looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. My smile is open. “I’m telling you something about myself because if you’re going to help keep me from dying of boredom, we might as well get to know each other.”
He purses his lips and nods in understanding. “Okay. So what’s at the top of the fuck-it list?”
“Excuse me? The…fuck-it list?”
“Oh, come on, that’s a good one and you know it. Like a buck-et list.” His eyes grow wider, urging me to get his play on words.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“You’ve clearly got nothing to lose with the shit you’re pulling so it seems like this is where you’d say, ‘ fuck it.’”
“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“But true?” He turns to look me in the eye and I can’t help but shrug.
“Maybe. But we’re not starting tonight. Tonight is for catching up. Getting acquainted.”
“I like the sound of that.” He flashes me his famous grin and I find myself grinning too, smiling into striking, blue eyes.
“Go on. Tell me something,” I say. “Something I don’t know.”
He looks thoughtfully at the wide expanse of deep purple sky above us and puts his arms behind his head. Just the way his simple t-shirt stretches over his chest and shoulders has me flushing from head to toe. I’m pulled from my too-horny thoughts when he says, “I was a bed-wetter until I was ten.” His eyes stay focused upwards, but the corners of his mouth lift.
I choke on a laugh, trying my best to hold it in. “Really?” I snort. “I expected you to say something serious.”
“That is serious! It was embarrassing!” I glance over and bust out laughing at his look of horror. I can’t stop and soon he whips his hat off and slams it on the Jeep. “Fine. If I’m sharing secrets, you tell me something. Let’s really get to know each other.”
We spend half the night talking over everything and nothing. We settled on a literal game of twenty questions and have been asking them back and forth with absolutely no rhyme or reason. It’s been a mix of serious and stupid and though I haven’t moved off the hood of this car, it’s been the best night of my life. The hours we’re out here feel like nothing. I don’t feel like a hypocrite for enjoying his company when there’s no one around to see.
I told him my favorite author and he told me about the best football game he ever played. I told him who my first kiss was and he recounted how his mom taught him to dance, everything from a two-step to a classic waltz. When he explained how they moved around their living room together, we slid off the hood and he taught me the same steps in front of the headlight beams. Dancing with him is becoming a habit, one I look forward to more every time I’m in his arms.
While we sway to silence in the middle of a random field, he asks about the craziest place I’ve had sex. I don’t mean to stiffen, but he catches the movement and tilts his head. “What?”
“No, no.” I pretend to laugh. “You go first on this one.”
“No, I asked you. What is it?” He stares at me and I can’t think of anything to say, so I just raise my eyebrows and shrug. Beau does a double take and says, “Tessa Jennings, are you a virgin?”
I scrunch my nose at his playful tone. “Maybe.”
I’ve been dreading this conversation. I'm not a romantic. I wasn’t waiting for some extra special moment with any of the guys I’ve dated, it just never felt right. Eli was always pushy when it came to sex and I hated feeling like I owed him something. Spitefully, I got more of a thrill out of turning him down than I ever did thinking about tumbling into bed with him. But now that I’m out of college, being on the cusp of twenty-two feels too old to still be hanging onto my virginity. The guy I give it to is bound to wonder what’s wrong with me for taking so long .
Beau confirms this thinking when he spins me and murmurs, “Hmm.”
I come back into the circle of his arms. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. It means, good for you .”
I knock on his head lightly. “I’m sorry, is the Beau I know in there?”
His eyes are innocent. The problem is, nothing about Beau is innocent so he doesn’t pull it off. Everything is innuendo, jokes and sarcasm with him. “Whether or not you’re a virgin makes no difference to me.”
Shocked, I say, “Really? You’re not going to hold this over my head forever? Beau has so much more experience than me, ha ha,” I say in imitation.
“No,” he says simply, but his eyes sparkle, giving him away. “You didn’t have to bring me out here and butter me up first, you know?”
“Butter you up?”
“If you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”
I snort. “And there he is.”
When he grins, I’m a goner. Every time he’s flashed it tonight, I’ve had to bite my lip to keep from kissing him. I could kiss him now for not making this weird between us.
We dance a few minutes longer until he turns suddenly-serious eyes towards me. “Listen, I know you’re worrying, but I don’t care if you have a roster a mile wide or if this is your first time. I lied that night when I said I didn’t want to get into your pants, because it’s all I can fucking think about.” He lifts my chin with a fingertip. “But I’ll take you any way I can get you, Tess.”
I study his profile, waiting a long minute before saying, “Who says it’s going to be you?”
A groan rises from his chest. “Just you wait, Jennings. You’re gonna beg me.”
I surprise myself with a sultry tone. “What if I decide to fuck you, McAbee? You gonna beg then?”
He reaches up just like he did in church, pressing the pad on his thumb on my bottom lip. “What did I tell you about talking like that?”
I know where this is headed, him and me. I know what’s coming, that he’ll likely be the first guy I sleep with, and the old me is shaking her head at how this played out. To lose my virginity to someone I’ve ignored most of my life, is more irony than I can handle. But the anticipation is so delicious that I’ve come to look forward to all those looks from him I used to hate. I’m not ready to give up the flirting or the playfulness we’ve fallen into, so I lead him away from this topic for now.
I smile seductively and push his hand away. “Your turn.”
“I’m not sure I can beat that last question,” he says.
Later, when we’re back on the hood, sleepy and content, I decide to go with something I’ve been wondering about for a while. “Why did you come back?” I ask quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“After college. Why did you come back? You got out of here. I can’t understand why someone who got so far away would want to come back to sleepy, old Pelahatchie.”
While I was at UGA, Beau was in Texas, playing football for Texas A&M. He was studying agriculture, but I assumed he’d stay in College Station when he graduated. He looks over his shoulder at me with a confused expression, eyebrows drawn together.
“I don’t mind that Pelahatchie never changes. I love it here. I was always going to come back. A&M was great, but I couldn’t wait for breaks to come home.” I scoff, though he’s being sincere. “You came back too,” he says, pointing out the obvious.
“Yeah, only because I have no idea what I’m doing yet. Once I figure it out, I’m gone.”
“I hope that’s not true.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t think about home without thinking about you too.”
Home. He stops my heart with just a few words, that sentence making me feel more homesick than the entire time I was away at school. Can you be homesick when you haven’t left yet? Is it possible to miss a place while you’re still in it?
I have the sudden urge to ask him these questions because maybe he can figure it out for me, but we’re just not there yet. And there’s no reason to tell him more about wanting to leave because my inbox is still sitting empty. None of the applications I’ve sent in have had any response.
Panic floods my bloodstream, hot and fast. What if I never get one? But just as quickly, I push that thought down deep. I force myself not to think about it, just as I have since May. There’s no reason to spill my guts when nothing is decided. For now, we’ll have our fun. He can help me complete the list and keep me from going crazy. It doesn’t have to be more than that.
I sit up and take a deep breath. Maybe I’m stalling because I’ve never been good at apologies, but I owe him this one and I’ve taken long enough getting to it tonight. When I look at him, making sure our eyes connect, his clear gaze is somber and a little sad.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been taking you seriously,” I blurt out. “I’m sorry for picking fights over nothing. I’m sorry for how I acted about Anna. I was jealous and I didn’t want to admit it. It shouldn't be this hard for me to say it, but neither should staying away from you.” I chuckle unwillingly, crossing my arms over my knees. “All I’ve done lately is miss you and think about you and wonder what you’re doing.” I shrug, uncomfortable with how serious this has gotten. “I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“Stand what?”
Surprising myself, I answer him honestly. “Being away from you.” He studies me and it makes me laugh. “I know. It’s pathetic. When I made up my mind to apologize, I still turned around three times. I’m sure I looked insane. One step forward, three steps back. That’s how I’ve felt all week.”
It takes him a moment to answer. “Try feeling that way your whole life.”
If I say what I'm thinking, everything will change. I know it in the marrow of my bones. And I’m not sure I’m ready for that. But, I reason, I haven’t been ready for anything this summer. When has being ready ever mattered? Not for his kiss at the pond, not for my feelings about him to change. Life has never waited until I was prepared. I sit up, running my hands through my hair. Fuck it. Why not now?
“I think I’ve figured out why I treat you the way I do.”
He laughs and cuts his eyes at me from under the brim of his hat, fully expecting some smartass remark. “And why’s that?”
“I think deep down, I stayed away because I knew how hard I’d fall for you.”
His smile fades slowly and his eyes heat until I feel like just their glance could blister my skin. I realize this is all he’s ever wanted to hear and it feels good to make him happy. Every time I’ve made him laugh tonight, I’ve felt lighter, warmer. Making him happy makes me happy and I wonder exactly when that changed.