Kiss the Morning Star (16 page)

It’s his turn to shrug. “We’re just guys, you know. We don’t have much of a story. Well, me and Zane knew each other from high school, and Bo and Frankie we met out in Oregon. We worked all winter together at this little brew pub on the coast. We planned to work there this summer, too, but then Zane got his bus running again, and we heard about this band called Selective Silence, and the pub business was slow, so we took off for a ramble. We’re just…on the bus, I guess.”

He shrugs in an entirely different way than I do. A way that seems humble and shy. I wonder about him. What is his family like? Is he going to go to college? What does he dream of? “Do you think it’s silly, this pilgrimage thing?” I blurt out. The question surprises me. He doesn’t speak right away, and more words tumble out. “I mean, you don’t have to answer that. I don’t even know what
I
think of it.”

He nods. “No, it’s cool. I guess…I think it’s a good idea to examine your beliefs. I went through this pretty heavy paganism period. I was way into that shit.” He shrugs again. “My mom is Wiccan. My little brother has become a born-again Christian or something. I don’t know, really, but he’s always going on about me accepting Jesus as my personal savior.” He flashes me a vaguely apologetic look. “It makes me feel like I’m watching the home shopping network, you know? Now, for a limited time only, Jesus! Call now, and we’ll throw in the whole Trinity!”

I smile. “My dad’s a minister,” I say, and then I want to take it back.
Nice
, Anna. Now he’ll feel embarrassed.

“So you know where I’m coming from,” he says, smiling. “At least on some level.” He folds his hands on the table in front of him. His fingers are slender, like a pianist’s. “I think I’m an atheist, but I’m not brave enough to say so all the time. In case I’m wrong, you know.”

I know. I stuff my journal back into my backpack and turn to him, my knees touching his under the table. “I’m glad we’re here. I’m glad you’re here. I’m just…glad.” Oh god, I’m such a dork.

We set up the comfy camp chairs around the fire, and Bo drags the picnic table closer while Frankie and Zane build up a good blaze. “Thanks for forcing me to abandon those missionaries, Anna,” says Kat, who sits cross-legged in the green chair. She gestures around our circle. “It’s like everything happens for a reason or something like that.”

“Anna, do you have your book? You could choose where we all go next,” says Seth from his spot beside me.

“It’s right here.” I dig through my pack in the firelight, searching for the book, but it’s not in its usual place. My hands become more frantic as I experience a sick sense of déjà vu. “Guys, did I take the book out in the restaurant?” I remember leaning down under the table to take it out, and then…what? What happened next?

“I don’t know,” says Seth. “You and Katy went to the restroom, and then when you came back, I can’t remember. Didn’t we just pay and leave?”

“The waitress had already cleared the table when they got back,” says Zane, “because she asked if we thought the girls were done, and we had her wrap up their leftovers. Remember?”

This is so uncool. That book is our guide. “We didn’t get the leftovers, either,” I say, racking my brain. Bo hands me a joint, and I hit it without really thinking; then I regret it as the spiraling haze makes its way through my core, wrapping itself around my anxiety like a coiling serpent.

“Well, let’s go back and get it!” says Zane. “I’m sure they wouldn’t throw it away!”

“We don’t all have to go back,” says Seth. “Maybe Anna and I could go, and the rest of you stay here.” He stops and shrugs. “I mean, or I could go myself, if that would be better, or…” He trails off.

I stand up. I want the book back, in my hands. I want my brain back, without this fuzzy spiral. I want…
Katy.
I turn to her, take her hand across the distance between our chairs. “I’m sorry, Kat. I’m such an idiot. I’ll get the book back.”

She smiles, but there’s something sad or wistful about her eyes. “It’s okay, Anna babe. Go with Seth. We’ll be all right here.”

I gather my backpack to my chest. Everything about this moment seems crucial, as though a huge tragedy is lurking in the wings, waiting for us to get caught without our talisman.

Seth and I climb into Katy’s car, and I shove my backpack into the space between the seats. As I shift into reverse, ready to steer around the big blue bus, my elbow knocks the pack into the backseat.

“Shit.” I reach around to scoop up the stuff behind the passenger seat and shove everything back into my bag. It’s totally random junk—a tampon, my cell phone, pens and pencils, a tube of chapstick.

“You’re really worried about this book, aren’t you?” Seth’s proximity startles me; I can actually feel his breath on my cheek. I pull back into the driver’s seat, and he shifts over so that he’s also sitting up straight. I can hear the soft sighs of his breathing, and it makes me sort of panicky.

“Yeah, the book. It’s like…the reason we went on this trip, see. We did this paper on social change, and Kat’s dad told us all about the beat poets, and we started reading this book together…” I’m rattling on, but then he leans in closer and lightly kisses my cheek, or really my neck, just below my ear. The tip of his tongue grazes my earlobe, and I pull away. My face burns.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, putting his hands up. “I don’t know why I kissed you, it’s just…” He laughs nervously. “You don’t
seem
like a lesbian.”

“I’m not a lesbian,” I say. “Or, I mean, maybe I am. I don’t know, I guess I think that’s like calling myself a cat person when I’ve never owned a dog, you know?” We’re quiet for a minute, and then I clear my throat. “I like you, too, though. And…you know, if it weren’t for Katy…” I don’t know what else to say. How stupid is this? Shouldn’t I know, one way or the other? Shouldn’t I
be
one way or the other? How do people manage to make things work out so that they only ever fall for people in one chromosomal category—or do they just ignore it when it doesn’t work that way?

He nods in the darkness; I can’t see him, but I feel the movement.

“I get it,” he says. Then, after a long pause, “I’ve thought about being bi, too.”

Bi. Another label, this one with a whole different set of connotations. Greedy, indecisive, sex maniac. Enough of this. I’m sick of analyzing my sex life.

“Ugh, I wish I hadn’t smoked that joint Bo passed around. Everything’s all blurry in my head.”

There’s another silence as both of us try to think back over the evening, and in the middle of the silence, I hear a strange sound—a sound like somebody calling my name from a great distance. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” We sit quietly for a moment, listening carefully over the sound of the engine, and then it comes again, a tiny little voice, shouting.

“Anna!”

“What the…” I look in the rearview mirror nervously. “You can hear that, right?”

“Um, yeah, I heard something.” He fishes around in the backseat. “It’s coming from…here!” He pulls my cell phone out of the front pocket of my backpack and hands it to me.

“Anna, are you there?” shouts the tiny voice. My father’s voice. Coming out of the phone. I must have accidentally speed-dialed him when I was gathering up the stuff that fell on the floor. Which means that my dad…

“Oh, god.” I stab frantically at the End button, terminating the call. “Oh my god, I just called my dad and then talked about…what did we talk about?”

Suddenly the phone rings in my hand, and I punch the Off button, panicking. “Tell me what we talked about!” I’m practically screaming.

Seth points out the window. “Um, you just missed the diner,” he says.

“Goddamn it!” I pull off on a dark side road, but instead of turning around and heading back, I drive all the way in, through the trees, to a little brown gate. I sit there with my head resting on the steering wheel. “Tell me I did not just talk about having sex with Katy and smoking weed while on the phone with my father.”

Seth pats my arm. “Maybe he didn’t hear that part.”

“What am I going to do, though? If I call him back, it’ll be so awkward. But if I
don’t
call him back, he’ll probably call the police, search-and-rescue teams, oh
god.
” I whimper. What has happened to my life? Everything’s out of control.

“Look, let’s go back to the restaurant, find your book, and then we’ll worry about it. He’s not going to get the search-and-rescue team after us
this
fast, is he?”

I sigh. “Probably not.” I lean back against my seat and turn to Seth, who is vaguely illuminated by the dashboard lights. “I really did say something about me and Katy, didn’t I?”

Seth frowns. “Damn. I think
I
did, actually. I think I said you didn’t seem like a lesbian.”

Hopeless. My father is probably right this instant having a heart attack either because he believes his only daughter is a sexual deviant or because he believes his only daughter is in mortal danger. “Can you drive?” I’m so shaky.

“Sure,” he says, and opens his door. We walk around the outside of the car and meet right in front, in the path of the headlights. For a second I feel pinned here, between the car and this gate, trapped and lost. Without really thinking about what I’m doing, I step in close and lean against Seth, my face in his chest. I’m lost. I’m empty and aimless, so light and insubstantial that I’m sure I’ll scatter, piece by irretrievable piece, into the wind.

“I need to get Katy’s book.” He puts his arms around me awkwardly. “I’m supposed to be the one who keeps it all together.”

I breathe in his smell, anchor myself on his heartbeat. This is so different from holding Kat—his body thin and roped with wiry muscles. I look up at that unruly hair that gives him a boyish look even without his charming smile.

It’s not a decision. It just happens. I stretch up with my head tilted back to kiss him. My heart quickens as his arms tighten around me.

Seth tastes different, too; his tongue moves in my mouth differently. I kiss him hungrily, as though I can pull some substance from his body, some solidity to fill this desperate vacancy in me, to keep me here. He presses me even closer, and my hand drifts to his jeans with a will of its own, coaxing a surprised gasp out of him. I’ve never touched a boy like this.

“Whoa,” he says, breathing hard. I slide my hand inside his pants. Who is doing this? Another Anna—a crazy, desperate girl who has completely lost her mind. A traitorous wreck of a girl. The girl who dares? Not a girl who cares. But I don’t stop.

“Oh, wow, Anna.
Oh
.” Seth’s breathing is ragged, and I feel somehow powerful, knowing it’s me he wants. Knowing that I control how much of me he gets.

I look up at him, at his face illuminated by the headlights. He smiles, kind and sincere. And puzzled. I don’t have an answer for him. I have nothing. Another Anna’s fingers work the button out of its loop, separate the two halves of his zipper. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, ducking down. I’m sorry for him because I don’t love him.

And I’m sorry for Katy because I do. Love her.

Seth gasps again, puts his hand on my chin, lifting my face up to look at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a raspy whisper. “I…I’m not sure about this.”

“Come away from the headlights,” I say, and I pull him into the shadows.

When we return, book in hand, Kat knows something is wrong right away. I can’t very well tell her all of what’s wrong, so I launch into an abbreviated version of the accidental dialing. “What should I do? Should I call him, or pretend like nothing happened and hope he doesn’t send out a search party?”

She squeezes my hand tightly. “Your dad is going to freak out, isn’t he?”

I step away from her, a single step. I stink of boy. I’ve ruined everything, and why? I fucked up; that’s the only answer—I’m sick or something, sabotaging everything we have as soon as it gets a little serious. As soon as it gets a little real.

“Text him,” says Kat. “Just say, ‘Oops, my pocket dialed ya! Everything’s fine!’ Then turn your phone off right away and deal with the fallout later.” She’s so positive that everything will work out, so hopeful. But I’m miserable.

Okay, I can do this. Assume that he didn’t hear anything, send him a brightly cheerful and innocent text message that will let him know I’m okay. I turn on the phone. New voice mail. Oh, god. Slowly, I bring the phone up to my ear.

“Anna? Anna, this is dad. Um. Your phone called me, I think. I was just checking to make sure you’re all right. I heard…a boy. And…well, I think maybe we should talk. I’m worried about you, Anna. Call me. Please.”

“Damn it, he totally heard.” I hand the phone to Kat, and she holds it up to her ear. “Tell me what to do.”

“Well, I’d say he sounds more concerned than angry,” she says, handing it back. “And wow, that was like, the most I’ve heard him say in forever.”

Zane sidles over, grinning. “Dudes, I have an awesome plan for the evening.”

I smile at Zane and nod, distracted by a thought. “Wait, he
does
sound concerned, doesn’t he?” And it’s true. Not only is my dad actually stringing multiple words together, but the tone! I listen to the message again, my eyes getting wider. “His
voice
!”

I push the phone toward Kat. “Listen!” I can barely contain myself. “It’s his old voice again, isn’t it?” The voice of my childhood.

“It’s close,” says Kat, smiling.

“What’s going on?” says Seth. He looks back and forth between us, his charming mouth twisting into a puzzled grin. “Anna, you look so happy.”

“We’re gonna drop some acid,” says Zane. “That should make everyone happy.”

“I
am
happy,” I say. I could almost grab Seth and Zane and Kat—throw my arms around all of them and just
squeeze.
“I’m going to call my dad!” I put the phone up to my ear and listen to the message one more time. His golden voice, the voice that would mesmerize an entire congregation…I can’t help myself. I twirl in a circle.