I’ll Meet You There (28 page)

“Perfect. Not a cloud,” I said. “Low seventies with a breeze.” His description of
heaven, from when we went to Subway together.

He got this look on his face—a peaceful sort of happiness mixed with … love. That
one look seemed to shatter every defense I’d worked so hard to build around me. I
didn’t know what was going to happen, was terrified of everything I was feeling, but
it was a good terror, the kind you get on those freaky free-fall carnival rides where
you know you’ll lose your stomach but you don’t care because the rush—
the rush
—is what it’s all about. Wanting him made me feel completely out of control, like
I couldn’t even think because I had this overwhelming need to have him. Tonight. I
was going to lose my virginity. To Josh Mitchell.
Josh Mitchell.

He stepped through the door and shut it behind him. And when I kicked off my shoes
and moved toward him, I was crossing a line I could never retreat back to. Moonlight
filtered in through the sheer curtains covering my window, turning him into soft angles,
smudged lines. I ran my hands up his arms, letting the shadows mix us together, like
we were already becoming a part of each other.

His fingers brushed the top of my thighs, then slid, ever so gently, under the hem
of my dress. “We can do other things,” he murmured, “if you want. We don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I whispered.

He reached up, his palms warm on my cheeks. “Yeah?”

Was I ready?

“Yeah.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his fingertips hot against my skin. I smiled up
at him, and he leaned down and kissed me, a soft brush of the lips.

The dress was easy to take off—Dylan only bought those kinds of dresses, and Josh
had a lot of practice. Even though it was warm in the room, I had goose bumps everywhere,
but the places he touched me turned to flames. I pulled Josh toward the bed, but he
hesitated, biting his lip and casting a doubtful glance toward it.

“What?” I whispered, suddenly wondering if I was being whorish and had gotten this
all wrong.

“It’s just…”

A flash of—something, I couldn’t tell—but then he shook his head and leaned in to
me, his lips on my mouth, my eyes, my neck.

I reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt. My fingers skimmed along his dog tags,
and I could feel his heart pounding faster and faster.

His lips found my ear, and when I shivered a little at his touch, he laughed, soft
and low. I felt clumsy and uncertain, all of my inexperience matched against his countless
times of doing this. For a second, I panicked, like I’d swum out to sea and lost sight
of the shore. But then I caught his eyes and saw the way he looked at me. Hungry,
yes, but tender too.

I’ve got you.

I ran my fingers along the raised letters on the dog tags that spelled out all the
pertinent information the military needed about Josh. But the important stuff—how
he watched out for me, how good he was at chess, the way he always hit his knee when
he laughed—they weren’t the sort of things you could stamp onto a thin piece of metal.

He swallowed as my fingers reached for the last button on his shirt. I slipped it
off his shoulders and slid my hands across the bumps and ridges on his chest I’d noticed
that first night, when we’d gone swimming—a dozen scars that told a story he’d never
shared with me. He watched my fingers slip over his chest, and as I pressed my lips
to each scar, he shuddered, gripping my hips. I made my way up his neck and kissed
his closed eyes, and he reached behind me and unhooked my bra—it was off in one single
movement.

“You are way too good at that,” I whispered.

His lips turned up, and he ran his fingers down my back, his eyes following the lines
of my body like he was tracing me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into
him, our bare chests pressed together. Our lips met again, each kiss harder, more
insistent than the last. My body responded to every touch, and Josh’s breath quickened.
His hands moved from my back to my chest, and I gasped a little as his fingers brushed
up against my breasts, then skimmed the elastic waistband of my underwear. His eyes
held mine, and something in them gave me the confidence to reach my hand down between
us and touch him. He closed his eyes and moaned softly into my neck.

“You,” he whispered, “are way too good at
that
.”

“Now we’re even.”

There were a million thoughts in my head or no thoughts or maybe just a single overriding
one that was telling me
yes
. Yes to Josh. Yes to this. Just
yes
.

His kisses slowed, and he leaned his forehead against mine. I breathed him in.

I was ready.

My hands trembling, I reached for his belt, but he shook his head and pushed my hand
away. I looked up, uncertain. Wasn’t that what I was supposed to do? Didn’t he want
that? Maybe he wanted to—

Then I saw his face. Every bit of gentleness had suddenly drained out of it. He looked …
disgusted? Like he couldn’t believe he’d ended up here. He let go of me and backed
away, toward the door. We’d never even made it to the bed.

I crossed my arms over my bare chest. I suddenly realized I was naked. “What?”

He shook his head. “It’s … we just … can’t.”

My heart was twisting, cracking, and my hands were still warm from touching him, and
my chin was raw from his stubble, but he was leaning against the door as though he
couldn’t get far enough away from me.

“Josh.”

I barely heard myself say his name; it was a whisper, all broken confusion.

He shook his head, mumbling. I caught the words
mistake, sorry
, but it was like he was on the other side of a door and I was trying to listen in.
I couldn’t catch everything he was saying, wasn’t even sure I wanted to.

I stood there with nothing on but my underwear, watching as he grabbed his shirt from
the floor and threw it on. His fingers were trembling as he tried to button it, and
he cursed under his breath. I reached for the throw blanket I kept on the end of my
bed and wrapped it around me.

“What the hell is going on?” I said.

It didn’t make sense. I knew he didn’t think this was a mistake—I’d seen how much
he’d wanted me. He’d told me he
loved
me!

“If this is about Blake—”

“It’s not about Blake.”

“Okay, so tell me—”

“Sky.”

“We can slow down—”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

I stared at him. The shimmering bubbles of happiness that had been floating all around
me popped one by one, the whole breathlessness of our summer becoming nothing more
than old soap on a stained industrial carpet.

“It doesn’t feel right,” I repeated. Dull, dead.

“No.”

Josh gave up on his shirt and threw open the door. He stepped out, into the night
that had held so much magic for me just a few minutes ago, then looked back. I turned
away before he could see what those few minutes in my room had cost me.

“Sky … I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I heard the door shut behind me. I practically ran to the bathroom, then sank onto
the cool linoleum, gripping the blanket from my bed. My sobs echoed, and I wondered
if the guests on either side of me could hear. I turned on the shower and got in,
crying as the water rained down, scratching at my skin until I couldn’t feel him on
me anymore. I stayed like that until the hot water ran out and then for a few minutes
longer because my body didn’t feel the cold.

Didn’t feel anything.

JOSH

Fuck. Fuck Fuck
Fuck.
I don’t know what to do. What the hell should I do? Tell me, fucking just tell me,
man. Please.
Please.
What am I doing? I should go back, just tell Sky I freaked because since the war
I haven’t … and it’s a mess down there and she’s not like the others, she’s never—no,
I can’t. The look on her face when I said what I said … God, I want to go back but
I don’t, I leave the Paradise and I go to Market and buy a bottle of whiskey. Javier
doesn’t card me because he feels sorry about my leg, only Jenna Swenson is there too
and I feel so fucked up and she follows me to my car and I don’t care anymore about
anything because I’ve lost Skylar and how the hell could I have done that to her she
fucking trusted me I was going to be her first and now she hates me, I disgust her
I know it and I keep pouring the whiskey down my throat and I forget Jenna’s there
and everything’s going blurry and warm and dark so dark
fuck
I just want to cry or fight someone or—Jenna whispers what she wants to do in my
ear and I say okay because what’s the point of anything and I might as well I don’t
give a fuck what Jenna thinks and we’ve been here before so many times and we drive
out to this field I used to take girls to and, I don’t know man, I just … I’m not
even here. I’m chugging the whiskey and Jenna’s on her knees and it feels good, yeah
it’s amazing but all I can see is Skylar’s face and when it’s over I pull up my pants
and Jenna wipes her mouth and I tell her I’ll drive her home. I don’t let her kiss
me. Even though it’s been hours, I can still taste Skylar’s lips, sweet just like
I thought they’d be. I swear, if God or some angel or whatever came to me right now
and said I had two choices: I could have Skylar for, like, the rest of my life, but
I’d never get my leg back, or I could have both my legs, but not Skylar, I would seriously
choose one leg. But I’ve got no leg and no Skylar, and I give up. I fucking give up.

chapter twenty-six

My shift at the gas station was almost over. Chris would be coming in soon, and I
was sort of dreading talking to him for the first time since our fight. The whole
argument seemed so stupid now. He’d been right about Josh. I still didn’t understand
what happened the night before, but Chris had seen it coming. I should have listened
to him. Everything was upside down now.

The door opened, and the store filled with an electronic
ding-ding-ding-ding
. The Swensons walked in, laughing hysterically about something. When they saw me
behind the counter, their jaws dropped a little. Maybe I was imagining that last part.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey,” said one of them. I could never remember which was which, but this one had
the pointier nose.

I knew everyone had seen Josh and me leaving the party together last night. I remember
how stupidly giddy I’d felt when he took my hand and walked me over to his truck,
in front of everybody, and helped me inside. He’d kissed my forehead before he shut
the door.

The memory gutted me, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach, protective, like the
Swensons could somehow know what had happened in my room. But how could they? It was
Josh’s and my terrible little secret.

I ignored them while they went up and down the aisles looking at all the food like
they’d never seen overly processed carbs before. It took me a minute, but I finally
realized they were high as kites. This was one of the reasons why working at the motel
was the perfect job for me—I only ever saw strangers who were passing through town.
I didn’t have to interact with my peers or wear oversized, bright orange shirts under
fluorescent lighting that made me look like a fat ghost.

“Shut up,” one of them whispered.

I looked over to where they were standing by the chips. One of them was covering her
mouth with her hand, squirming like she had to pee.

“
Shut. Up,
” the nonsquirmy one said again.

They started giggling, and I rolled my eyes and started restocking the cigarettes.
Then I heard one of them say
Josh
. I gripped the pack of American Spirits in my hand.

“So he just took you out there last night and—” More whispering. I heard my name,
some shushing noises. I turned around.

Took her out
where
? My body went cold, imagining him leaving the motel, finding that Swenson … and …
no.
Just
no.
He wouldn’t do that. He was a bastard, but he wouldn’t …

“Jenna, you are
so bad
,” said the squirmy one. She looked at me, and I lifted my chin.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” I said. “Because you obviously want me to hear.”

The pointy-nosed one—Jenna, I guessed—gave me a cat-eats-mouse grin. “I don’t really
think my sex life is your business.”

Sex life. Sex.

It was like walking into a glass door. It’s shocking and hurts, and you’re the biggest
idiot on the planet.

“You’re right,” I whispered. “Not my business at all.”

She’d won. I could tell by the surprised look on her face that she’d expected some
kind of nail-scratching girl fight over it. But she could have him.

She laughed. “Obviously.”

They turned their backs on me and stumbled over to the freezer. I stared at the counter,
weightless.

The door
ding-ding-ding-dinged
again, and I jerked around, half expecting it to be Josh, a sick part of me wanting
him to have to deal with both of us at the same time. But it was Chris, looking sheepish
as he walked up to the counter.

“Dude, I’m a jerk. I’m sorry I went off like that in the car yesterday.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out except a slight croak.

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head and bit my tongue as hard as I could. The tears stayed in as Chris
made his way around the counter. He looked over at the Swensons and then pushed open
the door behind the register marked Employees Only. I followed him inside, barely
seeing the shelves of extra candy bars and warm bottles of soda. His brown eyes filled
with worry, and I wished, not for the first time, that my heart could love him in
a different way. It would have been so easy. So nice.

“What happened?”

I shook my head. “You were right. I’m sorry I screwed up the pact.”