The summers we left behi.., p.18
The Summers We Left Behind, page 18
“Seems like trivia planning went well,” Jess says. “Figure out the teams?” Amber gives a pleading look that promises we’ll talk later.
We hold her to it later when ordering drinks at the bar.
“He is one of the most irritating humans I’ve ever met. But have you seen the guy? We also have way more in common than you’d think.” I can tell she’s falling for him.
To everyone’s relief, Josh doesn’t let her tumble into oblivion. Instead, he catches her and sweeps her away.
A month after the camping trip that Libby’s team ended up choosing. I meet Jackson. We are at a party thrown by one of Caleb’s fraternity brothers, and Jess and I are playing beer pong.
Isn’t that the way all great love stories start?
I overshoot in a way that I would have felt embarrassed about, except that we’re winning, and I’m already a few drinks in.
I start to bend down to scramble for it, but a hand snatches it from the ground and presents it to me.
“A lady should never be left to chase after her own balls.” The hand is attached to a guy with an expensive smile and flashing blue eyes.
“What about someone else’s balls?” I’m feeling bold tonight. I haven’t hooked up with someone since before break and am desperate to break my dry spell.
He lets loose a rumbling laugh, “You can chase after mine any day.”
I look for him after we win the game. A cowboy looking guy steps in to take my place, and Jess is more than pleased with her new partner.
I’m intrigued by the chase. There wasn’t a spark between us exactly, but something more than the passive attraction I’ve had with other guys.
He’s outside chatting with someone I vaguely recognize from other times we’ve been at the house. He ends the conversation and heads my way.
“You found me,” he says.
“You gave me a challenge. What’s my prize?” I’m more direct than usual, but I like this game. It reminds me of someone else.
“What do you want it to be?”
“Your name or a kiss or both.”
“Jackson,” he murmurs, closing the space between us. When we finally break for air, I’m on his lap in an Adirondack chair.
“I know I didn’t win anything, but can I get your name and maybe your number? I really want to do more than kiss you right now, but I want to take you to dinner first,” he says, pulling away. I’m not exactly getting rejected, but this isn’t the way I had hoped the night would end. Still, the idea of having to continue the game we’d started was enticing.
“Emma.” I give him my phone to put his number in. I want to be in control of the next move. We spend the rest of the night making out, leaving my lips so thoroughly bruised that I can still feel him when I decide to take a chance and text him the next day.
I see him more and more frequently. By the end of the first month together, we’re official. I’ve never posted a picture of a guy besides Bennett. Even after our breakup, I still left one of the disposable pictures up. After two months, I finally post Jackson, a silly candid moment of us at dinner together. My heart sinks when I check later and see that Diane liked it.
He meets my parents during move out that year.
“I’m happy you’ve finally settled into your first real relationship,” my mother says when we reach the car. There’s that word again, real. It crawls beneath my skin. That acknowledgment, more than the pleasantries and laughs exchanged, signifies their approval.
During his summer visits, I’m closer to my family than I’ve ever been before.
Jackson is from Long Island and bonds with Corrina over life in New York, where she moved to after law school graduation. He helps me fit into my family, holding my hand while understanding their motivations.
I can see how we might have this life forever. Not growing something new of our own but fitting into this preset pattern.
17
Winter
One year ago
We’ve been together nine months by the time my 21st birthday comes around. Jackson takes me to the nicest restaurant within a reasonable distance near Haven, La Lune. It’s French with small plates and big glasses of wine.
My dress makes me feel more adult than I am, black with a high neckline. I feel too formal. Amber and Jess had suggested a themed bar hopping night. If I had taken them up on it, I’d be in jeans and a coat, not four inch heels. I remind myself that one of the things I like about Jackson is that when I’m with him, I don’t feel like I’m in a college relationship. Yes, we go to parties and drink cheap beer, but even then, we feel so stable.
I had always imagined my first legal drink would be a cheap shot or a can of something shitty from the gas station. Instead, it’s from a three hundred dollar bottle of Cabernet. I don’t even really like red wine. It makes my tongue feel heavy and always stains my lips. But it’s winter, and the waiter said it pairs well with our food. The waiter doesn’t ID us when he takes our orders. I don’t get to whip out my new, and very real, ID.
“I wanted to give you your gift before the appetizers come out.” He pulls out a Tiffany blue bag. “Open it.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful.” It’s a gold necklace with a delicate pearl pendant. I’m impressed he picked something so elegant. I haven’t worn a necklace consistently in years, but this makes me think about changing my mind.
He gets out of his chair and lifts the necklace to help me put it on. My hair’s up in a loose bun, but there are still a few stray curls he has to brush out of the way. Jackson’s touch is soft and mundane. Mundane in the same way as a good cup of coffee. It’s reliable and adds a bit of comfort to your life.
Once he’s back sitting, Jackson reaches across the table to grab my hand.
“I love you,” He says.
“Love you too.”
He had said it first, a week after we moved in for the Junior year. I’m not certain when I said it back. It just came one day.
I’ve convinced myself there are different types of love. The love I had for Bennett was only for the summers, bright and explosive. What I feel for Jackson is for every season, softer and stagnant at times.
I doubt this reasoning sometimes when I see Amber and Josh. They stay completely consumed by each other even after a year.
In those moments, I remind myself that choosing the safe route in life is underrated. You get to the place you want to go with far less pain.
He pays the bill, and we’re off to the surprise party that Jess let slip a couple of weeks ago when she asked if any of his single hot friends would be there. To her credit, Jackson didn’t explain to the people invited that it was supposed to be a surprise.
“I have a surprise for you.” We pull up to Zenith, an old church turned cocktail bar and event space. I nearly roll my eyes. If I hadn’t already known there’s a surprise party waiting for me, I’d have figured it out just then.
He helps me out of the car, making sure my heels don’t cause me to tumble on the bits of ice covering the sidewalk.
The room is full of people. Many of them probably came back a few days early from break just to be here. Of the crowd, I only know about seventy percent. The people I know are made up of my friends and the group of people I’ve met at the parties that I go to with Jackson. The others are people who obviously know Jackson by how they whoop his name when we come in and those that just tagged along with their friends.
It’s perfect. Too perfect. Everything had been bought and planned so meticulously. I can see my parents’ touches in the little extravagant parts like the real glassware.
“What do you think, babe?” Jackson’s arm is around my waist.
“I love it,” I say instead of the truth. It is always easy to lie to Jackson about my emotions. Each time he rewards me with a look of pure happiness. He makes me feel like loving someone is about keeping them happy as long as possible. Though he sometimes misses the mark, he tries.
The truth is that this all reminds me of the last time a boy gave me a birthday party. It was messy and imperfect in all the right ways. The string lights here are too well placed. The sign is professionally printed and not handmade.
Jackson pulls me onto the dance floor. I wish I had remembered a change of shoes. I can feel a blister forming on my heel already.
With each drink, I try to forget the differences. I try to forget my guilt for not being head over heels for the night my boyfriend planned. This is perfect. This is what stable people in relationships do for each other when they’re in love.
But I’d never told Jackson I was in love with him, just that I loved him. To me, those things are worlds apart.
I can’t help thinking he should be here. Why isn’t he here?
I think I say those words to Jess and Libby when they find me crying in the bathroom.
“We can go get Jackson,” one of them says. But I don’t want that
“No. Not him,” I blubber, words catching in my sobs.
I can’t form the words to explain what I do want. I want Bennett. More specifically, I want it to be summer and to be sixteen again. I haven’t mentioned Harriettesville or the Sorensons to anyone since I got here except my therapist. I need to keep these chapters of my life separate. I’m so dangerously close to saying his name.
“Ok. Well, I am going to tell him it’s time for you to go home.”
I get half carried out the back into a car.
“Who were you talking about back there?” Libby says from the driver’s seat.
Jess is rubbing my back, updating me on how close we are to the apartment.
“Someone I need to forget.” Someone that might haunt me forever.
The next day, my hangover is my punishment for thinking of another man all night at the party my boyfriend and parents carefully orchestrated. This is only emphasized by the sun blaring the crack in the curtains.
Libby walks in with painkillers and ginger ale in hand. “You good? You were pretty upset coming home last night.”
“I’m fine. I just had too many drinks. We had a red with dinner, and I don’t think that ever is a good idea,” I say.
“Fair enough. If I ever need a good cry, a bottle of wine unclogs my emotions every time.” She sits on the corner of my bed. “Do you think that’s what your engagement party will look like when Jackson proposes? If so, can I DJ? Because the guy from last night committed crimes against music.” Her words help me finally realize what felt so wrong with last night. It wasn’t really my party. It was our party. The thought of repeating the event if Jackson did ever propose is unpleasant.
“Absolutely.”
18
Saturday
Now
After nearly a week, my calves don’t scream in protest as I propel myself forward on the sand. The soles of my feet have thickened slightly, so I don’t wince every time I accidentally step on a bit of broken shell. I don’t feel like I’m trying to race the feelings of longing that have made the entire trip foggy. Today, I’m running on my beach, taking in the memories as I pass them.
I head upstairs to shower when I get back. Everyone else is packing supplies for a day on the boat.
Amber pops her head into Jess’s and my room, “Last call for the boat.”
“I promise you will all be much happier if I don’t join.” I have my motion sickness medication, but nothing short of sedating me will make the boat ride enjoyable. “Just promise not to get lost at sea. I would be embarrassed to have to drive the van back to campus all by myself.”
“We’ll do our best. See you in a couple of hours.”
I still plan to enjoy the weather, so I throw on a swimsuit and my Portland hoodie.
Someone knocks on the deck railing steps below like it’s a doorway. I see the familiar messy hair and amber eyes. My stomach flips.
“Can I come up?” Bennett calls out. We haven’t talked since yesterday.
“Sure.” I set the book down and sit up, making space on the bench next to me. Instead of claiming the spot, he sits on a chair nearby.
“They said you were staying behind.”
“As you know, I have a rough track record on the water. I didn’t think I needed to ruin anyone’s lunch by making them hear me heave over the side all day.” He winces at my words, recalling my one and only boat ride.
“I was in town helping my mom with some stuff. I wasn’t sure how long it would take, so I told them to take off without me.” He’s so casual, slipping into what we had been like before. I’m not ready to move past all of our unsaid words. We have switched places. He’s running while I’m finally willing to stand my ground.
“I was happy to see that you got law school. I saw when you got accepted.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. I need him to know that I didn’t stop caring all that time. He didn’t disappear the moment I stopped replying to texts.
“I know,” he says, a grin on his face.
“Excuse me?”
He laughs, “You can tell when someone looks at your LinkedIn profile. I stalked you a little too. I’d sometimes take my friends’ phones and check what you’d been up to. Well, until last year when you made all your accounts private.”
“You’re kidding me.” I’m mortified thinking of all the people I lowkey stalked because they had no other form of social media. It isn’t a small number of people either.
“I dropped my phone when I saw the notification. Still haven’t gotten the screen fixed.” He holds up his phone to show me the evidence.
“I was really happy for you.” I exhale before I continue, “It was surreal to see you doing everything you had dreamed of. It seemed so perfect. It’s selfish, but knowing you could do it without me hurt. That you were fine, and I was just treading water, going nowhere.”
“I was never fine.” He pauses, “I barely got through the semester after you left. I was planning on finding an internship that year, but I couldn’t find the energy to start any applications. So, I came back here to help my mom out with the shop. I think part of me hoped you’d change your mind and show up.” I had wanted us both to be free of each other.
I get out of my seat to face him properly. “I’m sorry. I never wanted that for you. I never even dreamed up a life where you weren’t the most loved, happy person in the room. If I could take all that away from you, I would in an instant. I was a coward and didn’t know how to love you the way you deserved.”
“Then take it all away, Emma.”
One moment I’m standing in front of him. The next, he’s pulled me on his lap. His eyes darken. I blink, and his lips are on mine.
It’s not last night’s kiss full of intense promises and questions. No, we are crashing into each other, finally free from the force that has kept us apart. All of our walls our finally down.
All the pent up emotions pouring out with each touch. Oh, how I want to explore every inch of him, this new Bennett that I haven’t had the chance to fully appreciate yet. But we’re still the same kids that were desperate for any touch.
A shiver runs through me as his hand skims my stomach, fingers brushing against the edge of my swim top under the hoodie.
“I love how you look in this top. You look the same as the last time you were mine.”
“I was never not yours.”
“Is this ok? Do you want this?” He pulls away, breathless.
“Yes, this is perfect.” How could I want anything else? There is nothing else out there for me. I want more of him, all of him. My mouth returns to his, my fingers caught in his hair. I shift my hips, feeling heat building in me.
“Emma, any more of this, and we’ll give the neighbors a show. And seeing how my family is the neighbors-” I don’t let him finish, getting off of his lap only to pull him into the house. We don’t make it far inside, falling together on the couch. We lose my hoodie in the transition. His hips grind into mine, only adding to my growing need.
“Condom.” I trust him and my birth control, but I hadn’t gotten tested after learning of Jackson’s extracurricular activities.
“Shit, I don’t have one.” He begins to pull back.
“Jess packed a mega box for the trip. I doubt she’ll miss one.” I can’t run up the stairs fast enough. Once I climb down, prize in hand, I find him at the bottom of the stairs. I waste no time reclaiming his lips.
We move until my back is pressed against the wall. I try to unbutton his shorts, but he grips my wrist, pinning my arm to the wall.
“I’m taking my time with this. I’ve been thinking about this for the last four years, and I intend to reacquaint myself with every part of you.” He starts trailing scorching kisses down my neck. “I need to burn this in my memory just in case it takes another four years to see you like this again.” His hand slides into my swim bottoms. I suck in a breath.
“Bennett. Fuck.” I only can come up with fragmented words as his fingers work in and out of me. He has me buzzing, hitting all of the right places.
“I’m working on that, be patient.” His words brush against the shell of my ear. He uses his other hand to undo the flimsy ties of my top. His mouth covers my now exposed skin.
“Please.” I’m so close, but he stops.
“Not yet. I want the first time you come to be with me inside you.” I love this new, commanding part of him. All I can do is blink up at him, my mind blank, needing more. I pull at the hem of his shirt. I had seen him on the beach plenty of times this week, but now I can take in all of him, appreciating him like the work of art he is. He tenses as I run my fingers over him, tracing the ink on the left side of his chest. The tattoo is a minimalist rendering of a wave.
The ocean was always his first love. I had once promised myself I would be the only other love to follow.
I lower his shorts and take him in my hand, moving just as slowly and intentionally as he had for me.
“Emma,” he murmurs like my name is the last word in existence. I savor the sound of my name on his tongue, where it belongs.
