Chapter Sixteen
Jake
Sunday morning, the pastor is halfway through delivering his sermon, but all I can think about is sex.
Or sex with Serenity, to be more specific.
I can’t get my mind out the gutter.
I stood under the shower this morning, getting myself off to thoughts of her. How she might taste. What it might feel like to—
I feel River’s fingers poke into my side and I flinch. ‘He’s talking ’bout you, idiot,’ she hisses from the side of her mouth.
‘What?’ I whisper back.
‘Just smile and wave, moron,’ she adds.
I force a smile. Raise my hand in a little wave. I have zero idea what the pastor just said about me. I only know that the last few weeks, he keeps mentioning my name like I’m some kind of minor celebrity in these parts. I glance back and now the entire congregation is looking my way.
When the service is over, we go to lunch at an Italian joint with chequered tablecloths across the road from the church. The pastor is there, accompanied by his wife and their daughter, who I’d guess is older than River but younger than I am.
I’m sat next to River, my fingers playing absent-mindedly with my fork, thinking about sex with Serenity again when my mother’s voice cuts through my daydream.
‘Yes, well Jake is in high demand these days. Friday, Samantha Conway herself stopped by our place. Jake’s taking her daughter Lemon out. Do you know Lemon Conway?’
The pastor’s wife looks a little embarrassed, but it’s nothing compared to the level I’m feeling. The base of my neck is burning up.
‘Why you keep checking your watch?’ River whispers beside me.
‘I’m not,’ I say.
‘Sure, you are,’ she says, eyeing my smartwatch, ‘like every five seconds, you switch it on.’
‘I got curfew tonight, that’s all. I’m just thinking ’bout that.’
‘You got somewhere you gotta be in between?’
‘No.’
‘So do you… wanna hang out later?’
I look her in the eye. It’s weird seeing her in a pretty dress. And if there’s one person I hate lying to, it’s River. My mother’s still yabberin’ when I run my fingers through my hair and lower my voice. ‘Alright, there’s somewhere I gotta be later. Before curfew.’
‘Oh. Where you goin’?’
I wince. ‘Kinda can’t say.’
‘Why not?’
I can’t make eye contact with her. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Why’s it complicated?’
‘I can’t say that either.’
She gives a shrug, twirling a little saltshaker between her fingers. ‘Whatever,’ she mutters. ‘I never see you anymore anyways. Wish we’d never come to this stupid-ass city.’
‘You made some more friends at school yet?’
‘Not really. I met this one guy in my history class. He got in a car accident last year. He’s in a wheelchair. Missed ninety per cent of his senior year, so he’s repeating it. He was nice to me. Shame his brother’s such an asshole.’
‘Who’s his brother?’
‘That guy, Scottie Lincoln. The one who was at the wedding? People say he’s only mean because of his brother’s accident.’
‘That’s no excuse. What about other girls?’
‘Too many cliques, you know? So far, I don’t seem to fit in with any of them. And with the winter formal coming up…’
Her voice trails off. ‘What about the winter formal?’ I ask.
River mumbles something in return but Mom is talking over her.
‘Jake, sweetie, did you know that Mary Ellen here graduated from UCLA?’
I force another smile. Across from me, the pastor’s daughter turns a shade of bright red. Seems Mom forgot about Lemon Conway real quick.
I’m not the first to arrive at the cabin. Serenity sits on the front porch steps, a silver dish in her lap.
When I pull into the driveway in my pickup, she gets to her feet, the tightest pair of bootcut jeans hugging her hips and thighs, and the sight of her gets my heart pounding.
I take in the curve of both her breasts, just peeking out over the scooped neck of her tight, white tee.
She’s wearing a black-and-white chequered shirt over the top, knotted at the waist, her hair hanging loose.
As I have continually reminded myself since church this morning… I am not here to have sex with Serenity Harper. No, sir. No matter how much I want to. I respect her too much. I just wanna get to know her.
Except, when I get out the pickup, she beams at me. I swear, this girl is gonna melt my heart.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asks, holding up the dish. ‘I made cherry pie.’
I put one hand on my swollen stomach. ‘I just came straight from lunch. But, hey, if you made it, I’m eating it.’
I climb the steps. She’s on the porch.
‘Hey,’ I say.
‘Hey, back,’ she says with a smile.
‘Thanks for coming out here.’
She gives a tight shrug. ‘Figured I’d try not to run away this time. Should give you my car keys or somethin’.’
I laugh. ‘We should get inside.’
She’s left a small bag by the door. There’s a canister of whipped cream at the top. I pick the bag up for her and she follows me. Inside, there’s an odd aroma of Chinese food left over from Friday night, and I realize I failed to take out the trash.
‘Sorry about the stink,’ I say.
She walks into the kitchen, puts down the cherry pie and pulls herself up onto the countertop, allowing her legs to swing below her.
She looks back at me in a way that makes me wanna march right over, push myself between those thighs and make her forget every single one of those eight guys she’s been with.
I quickly load the leftovers into a trash bag and put it in the garbage can at the back of the house.
When I get back, Serenity has a knife and is cutting two slices of the pie onto plates.
‘You want cream?’ she asks, and I nod in confirmation.
‘You really made this?’ I ask as she squirts a big circle of cream onto my plate, then holds it out to me.
‘Practice finished a little early and I had a couple of hours to kill. I made two, one for my dad too. He likes it.’
‘He’s lucky to have you. How’s he doing?’
She seems awkward. ‘I think he’s lonely. My neighbor, Mrs Oakley, looks in on him from time to time. He watches baseball most days. On TV.’
‘Not football?’
‘He doesn’t really get the ruckus around football.’
‘Maybe I’ll need to convince him.’
I dig into my cherry pie.
‘Do you like it?’ she asks.
A smile dances across my mouth. ‘This is the best cherry pie I’ve ever eaten,’ I say with my mouth full.
‘Well, there’s more where that came from. If you stick around long enough, you can eat another slice.’ She pauses before she adds, ‘What time you gotta leave?’
Disappointment floods my veins. I hate the curfew.
Players aren’t allowed to be accompanied, not even the ones with wives and kids.
The rules for the Mutineers state that lights out is at ten-thirty, and all cell phones are banned.
‘I can prolly push it ’til eight, then run all the red lights on the way back into the city.
Get to the hotel with like a minute to spare. ’
She beams again, and licks her fingers, and my gaze lingers on her lips for a moment too long. ‘We’ve got time then,’ she says. ‘Time to get to know each other.’
My thoughts have turned dirty again. I snap out of it and finish my pie. We move to the couch, a wide gulf between us.
‘Tell me something about you,’ she says. ‘What got you into football?’
I cock my head to one side. ‘My grandfather played football, my uncle and my dad. Kind of runs in the family. My grandfather was quarterback for the Steelers. My dad played center for the Atlanta Falcons.’
‘So… you’re like NFL royalty?’
‘You sound like my sister.’
‘I do? River, is that her name?’
‘Yeah. Riv. River. She hates me right now.’
‘Why?’
‘’Cause she had to move out here and start a new school. Claims everybody hates her and it’s all my fault.’
‘She’s what, sixteen?’
‘Seventeen.’
Her lips twist. ‘Ouch.’
‘Why, ouch?’
‘Seventeen is a tough age for a girl. I should know. Of course she’s gonna hate you. Does she have a boyfriend?’
I scoff. ‘Definitely not.’
She grins mischievously. ‘That you know of…’
‘I think I would know if River had a boyfriend. I’m not even sure she’s been kissed yet.’
‘Maybe that’s not the sort of information she’s gonna share with her big brother. More like her girlfriends.’
‘We’re close. Me and River. I feel like she’d tell me, but, hey, maybe you’re right. Had you been kissed when you were sixteen?’
The words are out my mouth before I realize my mistake. She bites her lip. I wince and squeeze my eyes shut.
‘Shit,’ I say and look to the floor. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.’
‘It’s okay,’ she says with a smile. ‘I mean, sixteen is young. Sure it is. But the guy was my steady boyfriend at least. Same couldn’t be said for some of the other girls in my class.’
He slides one hand around the back of his neck.
‘I was nineteen. When I… you know. I had a girlfriend in high school, but she was part of this group of girls who were like this… purity gang. Saving themselves for their husbands or something. So that wasn’t happening. We kissed a few times but that was it.’
‘So, who was the girl when you were nineteen? College girlfriend?’
‘Yeah. We were both… we both had our V cards. I did the whole candles, soft-lighting, Taylor Swift soundtrack, pillows on the floor, all that stuff.’
She looks surprised.
‘What?’ I ask.
Surprise turns into what seems like embarrassment. ‘Nothing, I, just… that was nothing like my experience.’
I wait for her to continue. She doesn’t look me in the eye when she talks.
‘The night I lost my virginity, my boyfriend didn’t even ask how I felt after.
I remember he went to dispose of the condom, then picked up the TV remote and watched an entire NBA game before saying another word to me…
There was definitely no soft lighting or Taylor Swift keeping it all romantic. ’
I watch her. God, she’s beautiful. I feel angry at her high school boyfriend, even though I can’t even picture his face. ‘Well, that guy’s a fucking idiot.’
‘He didn’t last very long. Both on the night in question, or after. Couple’ weeks later, he slept with a friend of mine.’
‘Wow.’