28. Chapter 27
Raegan - The Past
I sit up, clutching my shirt, trying to figure out why I’m lying in the bed of Austin’s truck. The light of the sun is little more than a nightlight, reaching over the trees and painting the clouds. Why is my shirt off? Why is my mind a haze?
Every touch. Every caress. Every breath.
All of it comes rushing back. Pouring over me.
It’s a bucket of ice cold water on my flaming skin.
All the bliss. All the guilt. All the love.
Austin sits up beside me. He’s missing his shirt and his eyes are half-lidded, as if he just woke up for the best night's sleep he’s ever had.
“No.” I gasp and choke on my breath. “No. No. No.” I’m numb. It didn’t happen. It didn’t.
I look at Austin. And he smiles. Smiles.
“God, no. No. We didn’t.” I cry out a plea to God.
Austin looks at me. I watch him swallow and I know that it did happen.
And he doesn't seem the least bit sorry.
Not the least bit upset over it. I yank my pants on, and pull my shirt over my head.
Tears stream down my face as I pull on my boots and drop off the tailgate. His hands grab my arm as I try to run.
“Raegan…” He starts, but never finishes.
I take my free arm and bash my fist against his chest. “Why, Austin? Why?”
“I thought. You… You didn’t stop. I just…” His eyes tilt with just an ounce of sadness. And I see it. He doesn’t feel the shame and the guilt like I do. He isn’t crushed. Not like I am.
With all the strength I can muster, I yank my arm away from him, falling to my knees in the process. I pick myself up and do the only thing I can think to do.
I run.
Austin
“Raegan!” I yell after her. I didn’t think it would happen.
And once it did happen, I didn’t think she’d react the way she did.
I didn’t know what to say when she started to cry.
I was still on a high. Unable to catch my breath.
I thought we both wanted it. Neither of us stopped, and I… just assumed.
“Raegan!” But she doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn to look back at me. I clench my fists. I would punch something, but I need my hands for baseball. Stupid baseball.
I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t. But I don’t regret it. It was everything I dreamed it would be. It was amazing. A connection, a closeness unlike anything I’ve ever felt with her. I love her even more now than I did earlier when I told her I was in love with her.
And I want it again.
Am I a hypocrite? Is it wrong that I enjoyed it? I know it’s wrong that we did it without being married, I know that… But I clearly don’t feel the same remorse and regret that she feels.
“Am I a bad guy?” I ask God, raising my face toward heaven. “ Am I a bad guy ?” I yell the words this time. I hurt her. I hurt the woman I love. I didn’t mean to hurt her. But, dang it, it was amazing. And I won’t take it back. So, now I’m a bad guy right? I’m just like him.
I sit here, shirtless, on the tailgate of my truck, watching as the light of the moon takes over the last rays of sunshine.
Sunshine. My Rae of sunshine.
I have to leave in the morning. I don’t have time to chase her. I don’t want to face her parents. But I don’t want to leave with this awkwardness between us.
What would I even say? “I love you, Rae. And I’ve loved every minute we’ve spent together. I’ll never regret a single moment we’ve had, especially not something this earth-shattering.”
Yeah, that’ll end this relationship real fast. And I don’t want it to end. I want Raegan to be mine forever. But I don’t know how to fix this.
I can’t bring myself to leave yet. I don’t want to pack my bags.
But I don’t want to sit here and wallow in self pity.
We made our choice. We could have stopped.
I should have stopped us. We had our boundaries, we knew what was and wasn’t acceptable.
But we did it anyway. Not for a second do I believe that either of us forced the other person to do it. This was completely mutual.
The moon glitters through the branches of Raegan's tree and a beam falls across my hands, braced beside my thighs on the tailgate. I look down at my left hand, if there was a ring, she’d still be here. She’d be happy. She’d still love me.
“Why God? Why did You let it happen?” I’m tempted to smack the heel of my hand down on the tailgate. But my hands are my life, and I won’t destroy my career in the heat of the moment. I likely destroyed this relationship in the heat of the moment. Possibly even my relationship with God.
A lump forms in my throat. I failed her. I failed God. I failed Coach. Failed everyone. Just like my dad. I’m just like him. Every marriage comes with the chance of divorce, every relationship comes with the chance of being ruined. And I’m a screw up. Just like Dad.
My chest heaves and sobs tear from me. Deep. Guttural. I fall from the tailgate, landing on my knees in the dirt. My palms and forehead make contact with the ground.
“I’m sorry Rae. I’m just my father’s son.” I gasp the words. My stomach churns and my chest is tight, as if someone is reaching in and ripping my heart out.
She didn’t say we were done, but… I feel hopeless. Lost. Alone.
The tears finally stop, and the heaving of my chest settles down, nearly to its normal rhythm.
I push myself up, till my hands are braced on my thighs. The grief is over. I’ve come to terms with what we did. With what I destroyed. I’m angry. Angry at God for letting it happen.
“Do you not care about us, God?”
My stomach twists and I vomit in the grass next to me. I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and stand up. I need to leave. But I can’t go home with all these emotions churning inside of me. I need to punch something, kick something, hit something.
The tailgate slams as I close it. I kick a clod of dirt as I walk back to my door and climb in.
The blanket and picnic basket are still in the truck bed.
I’ll just have Mom or Coach return the basket in the morning.
I don’t want to see the disappointment in Raegan's eyes or face her dad’s wrath if I go drop it off.
I peel out of the field in a cloud of dust. Thankfully, I know my way to the main road without having to go near the Double C’s house or barns.
I roll the windows all the way down and let the breeze dry the tears on my face.
I turn on the radio, and the country station comes on.
Try Losing One. Yeah, Mr. Country crooner… I did it. And it sucks.
I end up at the high school baseball field. No lights are on, but I know where the balls and bats are stored. The bucket of baseballs is heavy and pulls on my shoulder as I lug it to the batter’s box.
I sink into my stance and toss the ball up into the air.
I can’t even see it, but it’s all muscle memory, and the clink sounds as the metal bat makes contact with leather and cork.
The pinging sound continues as I tear through the bucket of balls.
The sound and the feel silencing some of the chaos in the head and heart.
Groping around in the empty bucket, I realize that I’m out of balls. The bat thuds as I throw it down in the dirt and drop to my knees on home plate.
My chin quivers and the tears start again. “I’m sorry God. I’m sorry Rae. God, don’t take my sunshine away.” My cry is just a whisper now.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. I don’t know if I’ll ever talk to God again. I’m broken. Ruined. I’ve become the man I despise.
Raegan
My tears stream, unchecked.
I run until I stumble and trip under one of the oaks nearly in my parent’s backyard. My chest heaves. I brace a hand on the bark of the tree, and empty my stomach.
“No, God, no.” I cry out. I slump down, leaning my back against the tree.
Pain stings its way through my consciousness as the bark bites into my back, but I don’t care.
I deserve the pain. I deserve all the pain.
All the punishments. I feel like a heathen.
I didn’t stop us. I could have. I should have.
But I didn’t. Me, the good girl. My friends and I were part of the virgin minority in high school. But I’m not. Not anymore.
I tilt my head back, and stare at the sky.
“God!” I cry out. “I’m so sorry, God. I didn’t mean to.
” I sniffle and wipe the tears away. “It was everything I imagined. But why didn’t You stop us?
You could’ve helped, You could’ve stopped us.
Where were You?” I pound the ground beside me with my fists.
I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my cheek on them, the tears rolling from my cheeks down my legs now.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here, crying. But I’m out of tears now, I think.
I wipe the tears away, and then I stand and dust off my backside. I guess it’s time to face the music. I hope my parents don’t hate me. It’s not like I went out and planned to have sex. But I didn’t stop us. I should have. I could have. But I didn’t.
Mom is in the kitchen as I open the back screen door.
She glances up from where she’s folding and stretching a ball of sourdough.
“Hey, girlie.” When she finally notices my puffy face she wipes off her hands and rushes over to me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She probably just thinks I’m sad because of saying goodbye.
This is why I love my mom. She doesn’t assume anything. She just comforts her daughter. I don’t deserve it. My tears start up again. Dang it, I thought I’d exhausted my supply.
“I messed up, Mom.” I finally manage to whisper.
“I messed up big time.” I gasp out. “We didn’t mean to, you know?
It just… I wanted him to choose me over baseball.
” I cling to her. Soaking her apron with my tears.
Her hands rubbing my head and my back. She doesn’t question me.
She doesn’t scold me. She just holds me.
And when I finally tell her about the lemonade, and the sex, she cries with me, and comforts me.