Knee Deep (2 page)
I slide on the dress I spent all summer working for, making sure the slim straps slide just right over my white tank. The high, snug waist makes me look like I might have actual boobs, which is sort of a miracle. The blue and green silk brushes on the tops of my feet as I step outside into the warm sun.
“You and your hippie dresses.” Shawn shakes his head as he walks up my driveway. He’s in a linen button up, white tee, shoes and pants. We dress on opposite ends of the fashion spectrum, but it’s one of the things I love about him.
“It’s
boho
,” I correct with a smile, giving him a peck on the lips, which turns into more. “And at least I didn’t wear the sandals that I could have gotten.” Our faces are so close I can still smell toothpaste and aftershave. Gucci and Crest. It’s all Shawn. All familiar.
“Heels, right?” he asks, a tinge of irritation in his voice. “Are you seriously going to knock my height on the first day of school?”
“I’m not knocking your height. It’s you who doesn’t like me being taller.” I smirk. I drool over the wooden and cork wedges I love so much, but it makes Shawn uncomfortable when I’m taller than him. We’re both 5’9” with no shoes. I get it, him being the guy and all, but it’s just height, and just inches. I’d think that once in a while it wouldn’t be such a big deal. But in the end, it’s really not worth him being in a bad mood. And it
is
just shoes.
His face flattens. “Hmmm.” He turns away and starts to walk toward the school.
“Wait.” Is he really this mad? I reach out for his arm, but his whole body tenses.
He spins around, his jaw tight, and glares. I step back, jerking my arm away. What’s going on with him? The side of me that’s been worried kicks into high gear, sending my heart racing.
“Shawn! Ronnie!” Luke waves from just up the street.
I jump at the sound of someone’s voice cutting through this awkward moment.
Luke’s wearing some red vintage Atari t-shirt, shorts that look like they need replacing, and flip-flops. Seriously, his mom’s in real estate and has more money than both our families put together, but he dresses like a beach bum.
Shawn shakes his head. “Both of you look like you just stepped out of 1978.” His shoulders slump down and he starts to walk again, but relaxed this time. Better.
I give Luke a high-five, just because I know it’ll bring another eye-roll from Shawn, and hope that joking around will keep him loosened up. “Atari wasn’t around in 1978,” I say. “I don’t think.”
“Is that the dress? The one you wanted to make sure you could get?” Luke asks.
“You’ve been paying attention.” I put my arm around Shawn. “It’s nice to know that
someone
appreciates my dresses.” I kiss Shawn’s cheek.
“I appreciate dresses.” Shawn pulls me close, but his hand is rougher than I expect. “The length just seems like an awful waste of fabric.”
“You are unbelievable.” I kiss him again, anything to get him to relax.
“You know it, babe,” he teases.
We share a smile, and I guess the weirdness is gone. Or at least better. I need to ask him about it, about what’s going on with him. It’s just that right now—with Luke, on our way to school is definitely not the right time.
“Alright, you two.” Luke chuckles. “Can we head to school now?”
Right. My first day of my last year of high school. Crazy.
***
I’d never admit to loving being back in school, but I love being back in school. It smells like new ink from unopened textbooks, and everyone’s in their favorite new clothes. It all just adds up to a fresh start. Shawn’s hand is in mine and I’m up on my tiptoes trying to find Mindy. I haven’t seen her since she got home from spending the summer with her dad way down in San Diego. Finally, I catch sight of her short blond curls.
“Mindy!” I wave over the students in the hallway.
Her dress is shaped just like mine, small straps, high waist. Hers is the length of a tunic only she’s wearing nothing under it, and she has on the most delicious green wedge sandals I’ve ever seen. Heels. I let out a wistful sigh.
“Ronnie!” Her petite form runs up the hall toward me, despite her tall shoes, and we grab each other in a rib-crushing hug.
“See?” Shawn points down. “They make your hippie dresses short.”
Mindy rolls her eyes, and her gaze rests right back on me. “Is he still on about that?”
“Apparently.” I let out a breath of disgust, pretending to be annoyed.
“Well, we’re going to have to ditch these boys so we can catch up.” Her bright blue eyes shine and her grin is mischievous.
“Agreed.”
And before I can form a protest, she’s dragging me through the halls and away from Shawn. He’s frowning behind me, but Mindy’s excitement is contagious, so I just smile in return.
***
The excitement of our first day back at school is sort of wearing off with our first night of homework. My pack is heavy, and Shawn’s doesn’t look all that much lighter.
“You ditched me today.” Shawn’s voice is all pouty. As if maybe, I somehow misunderstood the body language he’s used since walking out of school. Not looking at me, not squeezing my hand…
“What are you talking about?” I watch my toes peek out from under my dress, something I never get tired of seeing.
“Running off with Mindy, and then talking to the drama coach at lunch. I mean, we’re dating. We should actually
look
like we’re together.”
I hate it when he’s sulky like this. “I haven’t seen Mindy all summer.”
“Well, I have to work this afternoon. You two could have caught up then.” His voice is clipped and short.
“She
is
coming over this afternoon.” I smirk to try and show that we’re not in an argument, but half of me feels like we are. “Boys just don’t understand how much time it takes girls to catch up.” But Shawn’s whole body is as tense as it was this morning.
“You two share more than half your classes. I mean, you guys sat down at the end of last year to plan your schedules.” I can feel him looking at me, but continue to watch my toes peeking out from under my dress.
“And
you
were in the same room, and could have joined in.” I keep my voice relaxed. There’s no reason for him to be upset—it’s a balance between saying what I really want to say, and keeping the peace until he can think about it or calm down.
“It just sometimes seems like…never mind.” He shakes his head.
I hate
never mind
. It’s like—oh yeah, that thing I wanted to say? You’re just not important enough for me to actually say it. “What does ‘never mind’ mean?” I ask. “If you want to say something just say it!”
“It’s not a big deal, Ronnie.” We stop at the end of my driveway, finally making eye contact, only I have no idea what I should be doing to change the way he’s looking at me.
Fine. Now it’s my turn to be irritated. “You coming in?” And it makes me crazy having stuff left hanging in the air, but at the same time I don’t think we’ll get anywhere right now.
My need for us to be okay probably has more to do with my dad being a shrink than anything else, but
still
. It should make
anyone
crazy. And I’m worried about him. Today is a perfect example of how weird he’s been. The smallest things set him off, and that’s not like Shawn. Something’s going on. Probably we won’t actually get this sorted out until he decides to tell me what it is. The problem is…I’m still not sure how to ask.
“Gotta work, remember?” He’s trying to make his voice sound normal, even though it really doesn’t. This is what he does when he doesn’t want to talk.
“You know I hate separating like this.” I push my lip out into a frown.
“We’ll talk later. If I have time.” He kisses my cheek and walks away. “Dad and I have sound systems to sell and radios to install.”
My chest drops. “No, wait. Shawn! After last night you and I both know if you walk away I’m going to have to find a way to sneak over tonight and…”
“And that’s a bad thing?” A corner of his mouth pulls up as he looks at me over his shoulder.
How do I answer? I can’t say it’s a bad thing for us to have some quiet time together late at night.
I step forward and close the distance between us. “If you want me there, you can just ask.”
I hate games
. I’m close enough that I know my breath hits his face, but when he tries to kiss me I pull back, smiling, waiting for him to say what I want him to.
“Okay. Fine. Come over tonight?” he asks. “
Please
?” He leans over me as his hands tighten around my back, keeping me close.
“I’d love to.” I part my lips, starting a kiss that leaves me delightfully light-headed.
“See you tonight,” he whispers, softly kissing my cheek.
It’s these little things that make me remember how Shawn just feels
good
. And how good we are together. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to sneaking out.
***
I WAS THIRTEEN…
…
and Shawn’s face held bad news.
“
You’re moving?” My heart dropped.
“
Yeah. Dad’s hoping it’s temporary.” He let out a sigh.
“
And you promise to write?” I asked, with the last bit of air in my lungs.
“
Of course I will.”
“
Pinky swear?” I held my pinky out for him to take.
He did. And then he kissed me again.
Shawn and I wrote to each other all year long. I got a letter a week and I savored each one. I read and re-read them with my girlfriends picking apart each and every one of his thirteen-year-old words. I used to sleep with his most recent letter next to my bed, under my pillow, or clutched in my hand as if that piece of paper would somehow hold us together. But we didn’t need the piece of paper. We were in love.
***
Mindy and I sit by the pool in my backyard. There’s no way to really catch up during the twenty-five minutes the school thinks we can eat our lunch in.
“So, what’s your thing this year?” she asks, pulling out our notebook.
I smile. Every year since we were eleven, Mindy and I have planned to try something new. Last year was yoga, and it didn’t happen ‘til our year was almost up. It didn’t catch on with me, but now she’s hooked and does all these weird twists while standing on her head in my backyard. And although it’s totally impressive, it’s just not me.
“I’m going to try out for theater,” I say.
“You said that last year but ended up doing yoga with me instead.” She chews on the end of her purple pen and opens the notebook on her lap.
“Shawn moved back over Christmas, so it kind of got pushed aside…”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “For bigger and better things.”
“Exactly.” Because finally getting the guy I spent my whole youth pining for was definitely huge.
“I think the play is
Romeo and Juliet
,” she says.
“It wouldn’t matter what it is. I’m determined. Besides, all I have to do is try out.” I reach out my hand and she sets the book in my palm.
I write:
Senior year—
Ronnie will try out for the play—other firsts to be documented as they happen.
Mindy will…
We write this
every year
, and
every year
we keep random stuff in here.
First kisses. First feel-ups. First school skips…everything that’s important.
“True.” She leans back. “You just have to try out. Wanna know what my thing is?”
“You’re taking a mechanic class fifth period. Is that it?” It seems a little tame for her, but I’ll go with it.
“Well, that was going to be it, and it still
might
be.” Her face doesn’t turn toward me, but I can see a smile spreading.
“What’s up?”
“Well, Luke is single again and…” Now her eyes are on me, gleaming but wary.
“And, what?” My chest tightens up in suspicion. Not good. Why am I suspicious?
“I’ve kind of had this crush on him.” She’s pressing her lips together. “You know, like everyone with a pulse does, and I wanted to talk to you first, so…”
My heart sinks at the thought of it. “It would be weird.” Ugh. I can’t imagine them walking together, or kissing, or…anything but the way we’re all friends now. I have to force my body not to shudder at the thought.
“Why? You and Shawn are together and we all hang out as friends.” Her brows wrinkle up.
“Luke goes through girls pretty fast, you know.” Maybe a warning will stop this train of thought.
“Yeah, and I know you two are like, really good friends, so I don’t want there to be weirdness, but I’ve been sort of friends with him too, you know?” Mindy’s fiddling with the rings on her fingers, a sure sign she’s nervous.
“Well, you know—whatever.” I shrug, even though part of me wants to scream. That’s crazy. But what if things didn’t work out? And they’re both my good friends—yeah, too weird for me.
“Well, I have backup if Luke’s not interested.” She leans back in her chair.
I’m appeased. It doesn’t sound like she’s after any more than Luke’s always after—something easy and fun. “Who’s backup?”
“Paul.”
“Paul? Paul, who?” We don’t know any Paul.
“Paul Mitchells?” Her arms are now relaxed at her sides, all traces of nervousness gone.
“He’s kind of a dorky little thing, isn’t he?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “Have you
seen
him this year?”
“Uh, no. Today was our first day and I spent almost the whole day with you.” I bump her with my elbow.
“Well he spent the summer at some wrestling camp.” She sits up and leans forward.
“Ewww, no wrestlers.” I shake my head. “Tiny, tight spandex uniforms and sweating and grunting. They come to school and eat plain chicken breasts. It’s gross.”
“Whatever, Ronnie.” She laughs. “I ran into him in San Diego this summer. Anyway—I know he’d date me if the whole Luke thing doesn’t pan out.”
“So
he’s
the new thing this year? I don’t think boys count.” I shake my head. First experiences maybe, but not dating.