3. Tessa
3
Tessa
I didn’t leave the pond immediately after Beau and Shep. I tried to float for a while, but the water didn’t provide the same relief it had before he snuck up on me. I spent the rest of the day sitting on the bank reading a paperback I brought with me. I bring a few books wherever I go and the pond is no different. But as the light fades around me, I have to work harder and harder to concentrate. I try to keep my mind on the words in front of me, but I can’t read more than a few lines without my thoughts turning back to Beau.
The pond has been my secret for a while now so it was only a matter of time until someone caught me. I might have wanted someone to catch me, if only to break up the boredom of being home where nothing ever happens. But it’s just my luck that that person happened to be Beau. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never escape him and it’s more than just the product of us living in a small town and our parents being close. Sometimes I think even the universe wants us in the same space.
When I really think about it, I don’t hate him. I hate the way everyone has always assumed we’ll end up together. My mom and dad struggled to have kids and lost a child before I was born, a brother I never met. Years later, when she and Beau’s mom were pregnant with a girl and a boy respectively, they took it as a sign. It’s their way to tie our families together forever. But being born the same year doesn’t suddenly mean we’re made for each other.
I used to think in a place this size, everyone gets paired up the way Beau and I have been, but I don’t see the town playing matchmaker with anyone else. Everyone I know, including my best friend, Peyton, looks at us like it’s just a matter of time until we fall. They think I’ll give up this charade of not being interested and settle down to live happily ever after as a McAbee. The worst part is they assume Pelahatchie, Georgia is the setting for our small-town fairytale.
Whether he got the idea from our parents or if he’s got his own reasons, Beau has made it clear from the beginning that I’m what he wants. Nevermind the fact that I’ve never shown any interest in him, he’s pretty much pursued me his whole life. But what if I want to get out of here? What if I want to be something other than someone’s wife? I don’t want the life my parents and my hometown expect of me, though I haven’t told anyone but Peyton. So I know it’s not really BeauI can’t stand , it’s how I don’t seem to have any choice in my own life.
And I hate the way it doesn’t bother himthat everyone has planned out our future for us. He’s had plenty of opportunity to choose someone else, yet he’s still here, sniffing after me. I can’t be around him without feeling the heavy weight of everyone’s expectations sitting on my shoulders. I feel like I’m suffocating every time someone mentions what a cute couple we’d make. I know I take it out on him, but he makes it so damn easy, playing right into this hyped-up version of the couple we could be. If I had been able to come to know Beau without the pressure of all of Pelahatchie on my back, would I have felt differently? Could we have grown up to be friends?
Yes, it’s his orchard, but it was my secret spot for the summer and it’s just like him to barge in and ruin everything just because he can. As far as I know, no one has even used the pond since we were little. I’d been ready to bolt as soon as I heard his whistle because we’ve been at this for so long that trying to get away from him is a habit. I still can’t quite figure out what changed, other than his touch. Now that the odd pull between us has cooled, I feel stupid for going along with any of it. Years of having the upper hand washed down the drain with a single kiss.
He used to put his hands on me all the time, a push or a shove when we played tag with our friends or a tug on my ponytail in the halls at school. But he hasn’t touched me in, well, it must be years. It’s only been verbal sparring between us since childhood ended. What is it about his touch that even holding my wrists was enough to have me forgetting twenty-two years of history?
And then his kiss. That kiss. The one I couldn't get enough of. Just remembering the feel of his lips on mine has me sweating. He’s the same boy I’ve known my whole life and yet not the same at all.
Or is it me?
Beau challenges me at every turn, but I never take him up on it because I know where it will lead. Today, when he dared me to stop him, his challenge called to me and I had to answer. We’ve never had chemistry like that, so what changed? It’s an uncomfortable feeling, this shift within me. Like I’ve let myself down. I should have tried harder to swim away.
But it can never be more than it was today. We’d kill each other. It’s no use even thinking about what might be because I can’t suddenly change my mind about him after all these years and I absolutely will not prove everyone right. We have nothing between us anyway but a shared childhood and the chemistry we felt this afternoon. How can I be sure that it won’t vanish the next time he decides to get on my nerves? There’s a sudden, sinking feeling in my stomach. Beau is like any other guy, once he gets what he wants, he’ll be over the chase.
This is what I wanted, right?
The sun has gone down fully by the time I wander home. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice it setting. Thankfully.
Our house is old, plantation-style, and my mother’s pride and joy. She and Daddy renovated it when they were first married, but in the twilight, it has a lived-in look I love. When I walk up the wide front steps, I can tell no one is home. Daddy’s probably still at the store and I’m sure Mama has taken supper to him there. Right about now, they’re done eating and she’s helping him close up. They’re about as predictable as the changing of the seasons.
My father owns the General Store in town. It’s our third-generation family business and just as much his pride and joy as the house is my mom’s. Everyone knows the store and by extension, my family. Sure, you can shop for groceries there, but it’s also the unofficial visitor’s center, as well as the hub for everything happening in Pelahatchie. You wanna hear the town gossip firsthand? There’s always some busybody there willing to tell you. It’s his store they want me to take over and coming home after college to this house feels like their life they want me to take over as well.
I love my parents with all that I have, but sometimes I feel left out of the world they’ve made for each other. Two successful businesses, high standing in this town, and a marriage where they’re still so in love it's sickening. Sure, they’ve had their share of hardships. My mother’s struggle to get pregnant and then losing my older brother almost broke them, but you’d never know it now. They have everything and then they have me . A kid who couldn’t care less about taking over what they’ve built, even though she’s been groomed for it her entire life.
As an only child, it gets a little lonely living in their shadow. This isn’t the first time I’ve wished for a sibling they could pin all their hopes and dreams on. If my brother were alive, maybe he’d want what they’re offering and I wouldn’t have to let them down. But because they have no one else, all that responsibility has fallen to me. I know I should be grateful. Instead, I just feel trapped. I’ve always been on my own and I like it. I thrived in college and coming home feels like I’ve taken two steps backwards. My independence doesn’t mean as much here. It’s why I can’t fit into the mold they’ve created for Beau and I.
I want that choice. I want every choice. But I don’t have the courage to tell them yet.
After sliding into my favorite silk pajamas, I curl up on the window-seat in my room. A gust of humid air comes through the open window and blows the curtains. Even at night, there’s little relief from the heat. The crickets sing and most nights their music is what I fall asleep to, but tonight it does nothing to ease my mind. Beau’s kiss today changed so much for me, but everything is spinning around like nothing at all happened. The thought makes me feel hollow, small and lonely in a world that’s gotten a little wider.
I sit for a while longer and am about to turn in when there’s a knock at the door downstairs. Mama and Daddy wouldn’t have knocked. I wonder if I’ve accidentally locked them out as I jog down the stairs, but when I get to the bottom, it’s not my parents staring back at me through the glass. Even in the darkness, I can make out his familiar grin.
Just like at the pond this afternoon, Beau stands on the front porch with his hands on his hips. I hesitate, but I know he’s seen me and he confirms it by shouting through the door.
“You really going to leave me out here?”
I drop my head and sigh, taking the few steps to him. “What are you doing here?” I say when I’m standing on the porch. He doesn’t back up and I cross my arms over my chest, feeling uncomfortable having him so close.
“I wanted to see you,” he says simply.
“You saw enough of me in the grove. Not satisfied?”
He shakes his head slowly and seconds pass as we stare off. He gazes like he’s drinking me in. I want to be stubborn and make him look away, because that, at least, is familiar territory. This awkward girl standing before him isn’t me. In our usual routine, we volley jabs back and forth. But now it seems like neither of us wants to speak first. The memory of what happened earlier is still too fresh on our lips.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” he says casually, trying to pull some of the tension from the air.
“No.” I feel bad in spite of myself when he looks crestfallen and I blurt out, “Mama and Daddy aren’t home.”
A wolfish smile spreads across his face. “All the more reason for me to come in.” Now there’s the boy I know. He gives me that familiar cue and I roll my eyes, turning to go back inside. “Tess, wait,” he says, reaching for my arm. “I was kidding. Come out for a while.” When I don’t move or say anything, he teases, “I don’t bite, but I may have to kiss you again.”
I give him my most unamused look. Now that he’s seen me naked, he’s never going to let me live it down. I’m an idiot for thinking otherwise . “How long have you been waiting to say that?” I ask cuttingly.
“All night. It’s the whole reason I came over.” The chaotic joy in his eyes to finally have something to taunt me with is so boyish, I feel like we’re kids all over again. He tugs on the waistband of my shorts, but I knock his hand away easily.
When he pouts, I roll my eyes. “That won’t be happening.”
“Whatever you say,” he says.
Beau walks over to sit on the porch swing. He doesn’t invite me to sit, just leaves me there standing by the door. With nothing else to do, I drag my feet over to the swing to sit beside him. Neither of us says anything at first. He toes the porch and swings us gently. When I relax enough into the silence, I’m surprised by how lovely it is. I can’t remember the last time we were alone.
“How long have you been swimming at the pond?” he asks.
So we’re doing this? We’re really gonna sit here and act like we don’t hate each other all of a sudden? “Since I came home.”
He nods, looking at his lap. “You ever bring anyone?”
I give him a funny look. “What do you mean? Are you asking for an invitation?”
“No. As much fun as that would be, I’m wondering if I show up again, will I see Peyton skinny-dipping too?” He grimaces.
Laughter bursts from me because the idea is so absurd. I can clearly imagine him covering his eyes and running away. I catch him smiling at me and he laughs too.
“It would be pretty hard to come back from that,” I chuckle. “But no, I never bring anyone with me. Peyton’s going to be pissed when she finds out I’ve been swimming without her, so maybe keep that to yourself.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
He takes my hand, placing them together on top of his knee. I wasn’t expecting it, but I don’t feel the immediate urge to pull away. Just like earlier, I can feel my curiosity being stoked, like he’s added just enough coal to make the fire rise. I stare at our joined hands and contemplate him. What you see is what you get with Beau. He isn’t artful or coy. He doesn’t try to be someone he’s not. If I liked him, that might be something I’d admire.
“I’m surprised you let me do that,” he mutters.
“I’m surprised by a lot of things lately.”
“Me too. Hey, Tess?”
“Yeah?”
He tilts his head. “How come I’ve never gotten to know you?”
“I’ve known you since I was four. Maybe longer, but I can’t remember further than that.”
He smirks and flicks my nose. “Smartass. All we’ve ever done is fight, but what do you say we call a truce?”
When he wiggles his eyebrows, the corners of my lips tip up. “What for?”
“So we can do more of what we did today, duh. Didn’t you have fun?”
I casually pull my hand from his and run it through my hair. He doesn’t react at all. Smooth McAbee, smooth. “A few kisses doesn’t mean I suddenly like you.”
“Doesn’t it?” He spreads himself out, his big body crowding me on the swing. I hate when he does that. He makes himself comfortable wherever he goes. Like everyone is his best friend. “Why did you let me kiss you anyway?”
“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to be so nosey?”
“All the time, but I’m serious.” He waits, staring straight at me.
I wish he wouldn’t watch me so closely, so I shrug, pretending nonchalance. “Maybe I got curious?”
He narrows his eyes. “For you? That doesn’t check out. Heatstroke is more likely.”
Again, I have to fight my smile. Another thing I hate. He can drag a laugh from anyone. Even the grumpiest person doesn’t stand a chance against Beau. “I don’t honestly know why. I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”
He raises his eyebrows as if he never expected me to be so candid. “Let me know when you do.” We sit in silence for a minute, listening to the crickets. “You never answered me about the truce.”
“Shut up.” I laugh, unsure of what to say.
“Be serious with me for five seconds.” When I turn to look at him, his eyes are indeed serious. “How nice would it be to not be at each other’s throats all the time?” He’s full of sultry confidence. “Unless we want to.”
I sigh, looking over my shoulder. “This is just a game to you.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you’re a flirt. I kissed you back. So what?” I say cynically, but I hate the way his face falls.
“I was hoping you’d finally realized how much I care about you.”
“You don’t have the slightest clue how to care about someone, especially me.”
His voice rises in mock outrage. “I have always cared about you!”
“Oh really? All the lines you feed me, that means you care? Who knew?”
“Why are you being like this?” He sits up straighter, throwing an arm over the back of the swing. “We were having a good time.”
“I don’t want you to get the impression that what happened today will happen again. It won’t. It was a lapse in judgment.”
“Liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’ll happen, sweetheart.”
I search his face as he looks away. “Nothing’s changed, Beau,” I tell him softly, willing him to believe it.
“You’re right. Nothing’s changed for me. I’ll keep on trying to prove I care and get nothing in return.” He faces me and leans forward. “But something has changed or you wouldn’t have let me kiss you today or hold your hand. I think it’s you who doesn’t know how to care about someone.”
That sentence stops me in my tracks. Is this what it feels like every time I hurt him?
I don’t know what to do with a Beau who’s sweet and reminiscent. I thought I knew him, but it’s the tenderness underneath the rough hands that I can’t reconcile. We’ve never had a genuine conversation, but is that truly all my doing? Where would we even begin?
This is all happening too fast. I don’t want to always be the bad guy, but I’m not ready to admit I have no idea who he is, though I’ve known him all my life. I take a deep breath and search for the words that will keep this conversation from turning into a thunderstorm.
“Look. I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. You’re not so bad when you’re not spying on people and…”
He interrupts, “And you felt it too.”
“What?”
“Kissing you felt right. And I think you felt it too, but you’re too scared to admit it.”
My face pinches. “I’m not scared.” He can’t know how close he is to the truth.
“Okay, Tess. Have it your way.” He stands, throwing the swing off-kilter and looks down at the ground. “It’s getting late.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“This wasn’t the only reason I came over.”
“Oh, there’s more for you to annoy me with?”
He looks like he’d like to shake me. “No, the fair’s tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And you’re going with me.”
He doesn’t ask. I hate when he doesn’t ask, when he just orders. Irritation flares, but there’s something right behind it I can’t name. I want his familiar grin back on his face and I want absolution for taking it away. But I don’t know how to give in.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because if you’re lucky, I just might kiss you again.”
If we’re being honest, I want him to kiss me again and I have no idea why. I’m glad he’s here and I can’t wait for him to leave. He’s infuriating, but if he doesn’t make good on his threat, I might go crazy. Maybe that’s what I am, because this makes no sense. He’s never elicited this sort of reaction in me and I don’t want to feel this way.
This odd attraction between us seems to come from nowhere, but wouldn’t I have felt it if it were hidden somewhere under the surface? It’s like my brain and my body aren’t in sync, two halves of something that aren’t communicating as they should. I get ready to make another smart remark, but he moves. He crosses the three feet separating us in a single step. This time I’m ready. When he leans down, my eyes close instinctively.
Waiting…
Waiting…
For his lips on mine. But I feel them land against my cheek. My eyes pop open and he’s smirking down at me. Not a grin at full strength, but it’s something. I scowl back.
“Always leave ‘em wanting more, Jennings.”
“Yeah right, McAbee. Like I’d ever want more of you.”
He looks back only once as he walks away.