Meant To Be (5 page)

“It wasn’t. You can’t blame yourself for other people’s actions. He chose to do all those things to try to bully you into doing what he wanted. I can’t imagine anything more defining of a complete dick. I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

“Thank you for saying that.” The breathless sound of her voice made Daniel smile.

“So, no crazy stalker chicks in your past?”
Ahh, she’s trying to change the subject.
“Not really. There was one who became convinced that I had a thing for this girl in our art history class who had these red streaks in her hair. She offered to dye her hair the same way if I’d keep going out with her.”

“Impressive.” Marienne nodded. “Clearly this must have been after you ‘got better’.”

“Clearly.”

“And the girl with the red streaks, were you into her?”

“No,” Daniel said. “That’s what made the offer even more bizarre.”

“So, your girlfriend really didn’t know you at all.”

“I guess not. I never thought of it that way.”

Marienne pointed to the playground. “Here we are.”

Daniel hadn’t even realized they’d gotten to the park; he was too caught up in Marienne. The silver playground equipment glowed blue in the moonlight, and the sand beneath it shimmered, resembling the beach. He watched as she headed straight toward the dome-shaped monkey bars. Her dark hair gleamed as she passed beneath the swing set, turning to see if he was following.

“Come on.” She motioned with her hand. The light reflected off her face as she smiled at him. He was incredibly drawn to her. So much that he paused before following her, thinking perhaps he shouldn’t. She was Frank’s wife, he was Justine’s husband…and she’s just a friend. He watched as she stepped up two rungs then turned and lay back against the bars. He walked past her, careful not to knock over the Coke can she’d planted in the sand, and climbed up to join her.

It was the clearest night he could recall in ages. “Wow. That’s fantastic.”

“See? And you thought I was crazy to be coming to the park at night.”

“No.” He corrected her. “I thought it was crazy for you to be coming to the park at night alone. Not even crazy, just risky. Does Frank ever come with you?” Daniel tried very hard to remind himself again that she was Frank’s wife.

She laughed. “Uhhh, no. Frank isn’t a hang-out-in-the-park, look-at-the-stars kind of guy.”

Daniel could see that. Frank was pretty tightly wound and very driven. It wasn’t hard to imagine that he would think stargazing was wasted time.

“I’m sure he worries about you coming here alone.”

Marienne smiled, looking rueful. “Frank isn’t much of a worrier. I’m not sure he even knows. He works late or comes home exhausted and heads to bed. Either way I’m the night owl who’s prone to late-night adventures.”

“Sounds like our house.” Daniel craned his neck to follow the arc of the Big Dipper. “Justine always goes to bed much earlier than I do. I’ve had insomnia since I was a kid, so I’ll stay up and read or write. Sometimes I even head to the park.”

“Ah-ha. So, it’s okay for you, but not for me?”

“Well, not to be sexist, but I’m far larger than you, not to mention much less appealing to men.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.”

Daniel chuckled. “Point taken, the park is not the best place for anyone to be alone.”

“Agreed,” she said. “I promise, I’ll think twice next time.”

“Or bring me with you.” He hoped that hadn’t come out wrong.

“Or bring you with me,” she said, much to his relief.

They gazed at the stars, debating whether the flashing lights crossing the sky were an airplane, a blimp, or a UFO, and laughing as they argued over which direction the Little Dipper was from the Big Dipper. Finally Daniel stretched, shifting his position, and sat up.

“We better get going,” Marienne said. “I can’t even imagine what time it is.”

Daniel stepped off the bars and Marienne attempted to do the same. She stumbled, and he caught her mid-fall.

“Whoa,” he said. “You okay?”

“Foot’s asleep.” She gave a nervous laugh and looked down, rotating her right ankle. He waited for her to sit back against the metal bars before he let go.

“I hate that,” he said. “Happened to me during a job interview. I was so nervous I didn’t realize I hadn’t shifted my position once the entire time we were talking, and when it was time to leave I stood up to shake the interviewer’s hand and fell over.”

“Get out,” she said.

“Totally serious. So embarrassing.”

“What did you do?” She wiggled her foot, wincing.

“It was such tension relief, I started laughing uncontrollably. I think they thought I’d had some sort of nervous breakdown.”

“Oh my God,” Marienne said. “I can picture that.”

“The funnier part was that two days later they called and told me I’d gotten the job.”

“What was the job anyway?”

“Waiter.”

“Well, no need for good balance with that profession.”

“You’re laughing,” he said. “But I lasted exactly one day. My first night I accidentally spilled a glass of champagne down a woman’s back. I was fired on the spot.”

Marienne laughed even harder.

She looks awfully pretty in the moonlight.

“I think I’m ready.” Marienne took a tentative step.

“You sure?” He was ready to catch her, wanting an excuse to reach out and touch her again.

“I’m good.” She took another step. “Come on.” She headed toward the road, turning back to look at him. “Let’s try to get home without either of us falling.”

He laughed and followed her onto the darkened street, thinking it might be too late for that.

Chapter Five

Daniel listened to the silence of his house. Although it was late he still wasn’t tired. He couldn’t stop thinking about Marienne.

I can’t believe I told her all that.

He reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer. It was warm in the kitchen so he took a seat on the deck. Drinking beer outside always reminded him of high school, the good and the bad.

His mother had died the autumn he turned sixteen, and he’d been sent to the US to live with Anne and her husband. It had been a monumental adjustment, but he had managed to settle in well. He made friends, earned good grades, was captain of the soccer team. It had surprised him how much impact the one-year anniversary of her death had.

He’d awoken early that morning, and remembered while still in the groggy half-awake state. It was as if he was reliving the day she died all over again. He couldn’t breathe, his stomach churned, his hands icy cold, the memories overwhelmed him.

He’d complained of a headache, and Anne had let him stay home from school. He suspected she’d figured out the reason behind his ills, but she said nothing. No one said anything. He had no one to discuss it with, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it anyway. He wanted his mother back. He wanted to not feel so sad and alone. He wanted to feel normal again. But all he felt was empty.

The following day he returned to school, as though nothing had changed, but the sadness lingered in the form of restlessness. It was the beginning of senior year and stress levels were high from college applications and SAT exams. To blow off steam the weekend routine began to include a drive down to the Jersey shore, to the beaches below Manasquan, where one of Daniel’s teammate’s parents owned a summer house.

The beach was deserted in the early fall, so they would go there on Saturday nights, build a big fire alongside the ocean, and drink beer.

Daniel loved those nights. He loved the sounds and smells as the surf rolled in and out and the fire roared. It matched his mood, the unpredictability of the waves, and the fierceness of the fire.

One weekend Scott’s older brother had been unable to provide beer, so instead a few people had gathered what they could from their parents’ liquor cabinets. The choices wound up being peach schnapps or rum and Coke. Daniel tried one sip and found the sweet and sticky schnapps disgusting, so he’d picked up a Coke instead.

“Here.” His friend Paul grabbed the can, spilled half its contents onto the sand, and refilled it with rum. “Try this.”

It burned his throat, but was better than the schnapps. He ignored the sting and continued drinking. The fire was blazing, the flames dancing up toward the sky, while the rhythmic waves crashed on the beach behind him. He was lulled into relaxation by the sight and sound, and the rum he was steadily consuming.

A girl sat down next to him, her butt thumping hard against the sand. He recognized her from school. Her name was Alana. She was on student council, very popular, always smiling. Her short blonde hair was a perfect bob that framed her small face. She looked like a very pretty pixie.

“There’s no Coke left.” She giggled. “But there’s still rum.”

She waved an open bottle in the air, sloshing a tiny bit that ran down her wrist.

“Oops,” she said, licking it off then wiping the rest against her pink hooded sweatshirt. “Here.” She took Daniel’s Coke and poured rum both in and on it. She handed it to him, then clinked the bottle against it and said, “Cheers.” She took a swig.

“Cheers,” Daniel said. The rum and coke had burned, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of the straight rum. He swallowed hard, almost choking, and shuddered. Alana giggled.

“I know. It’s gross.” She wrinkled her dainty nose. “But a few more swallows and you won’t care anymore.”

She took another swig. Daniel followed her lead and took a second mouthful. It wasn’t as bad as the first gulp.

“You’re right.” He smiled. Her words had appealed to him on a different level. What he wanted more than anything was to not care anymore—for the hurting to stop. He drank again and felt less, of everything. By the time the can was empty he wasn’t feeling much of anything at all.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Alana said, her hair brushing against his cheek.

He turned toward her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, his head spun as the flames flashed beside him. Her face was right in front of his, so close he could smell her. Her breath was a mixture of rum and cinnamon gum, sweet and appealing. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her.

He’d never really kissed a girl before. Only once, at a party, and the girl had never spoken to him again. That was back in England, before his mother took ill. Since he’d moved to the States he’d felt too depressed, too shy, too out of synch to even gather up the courage to ask a girl out, let alone make a move on one. But here was Alana, her face next to his, her body leaning toward him, her eyes staring drunkenly into his, his nerves dampened by the rum.

Her tongue darted into his mouth and licked alongside his. She pulled away then and took his hand. “Come on,” she said, dragging him up. “Let’s go for a walk.”

They stumbled across the sand, weaving their way past the beach bags and coolers, and along the tall grass, behind the dunes. Alana led the way. He followed, his clouded brain only partly comprehended where they were headed, and why.

As soon as they were behind the dunes, she stopped and turned toward him, her eyes gleaming in the bright moonlight. He kissed her again and she lifted herself onto her toes, rubbing against him. It felt amazing. His head was spinning from the booze, from the kiss, from the insane throbbing sensation that emanated from his jeans.

They fell back against the sand and Alana reached toward Daniel’s pants. She unzipped him while they continued to kiss. His erection popped up into the circle of her thumb and fingers and she ran her hand down the length of him. Her skin was warm and silky smooth. He almost came from the single stroke, but then she let go. His dizzy, drunken mind struggled to keep pace with what was happening.

He watched as she removed her sweatshirt and spread it on the sand. She scooted on top of it as she reached for Daniel’s hand.

“Here,” she said, pressing something into his palm.

It took a moment for him to process that it was a condom.

“Oh.” He shook his head to clear it. “Okay.”

He tried to rip open the package, but the rum had made his fingers clumsy and uncooperative and he dropped it. Alana giggled, picking up the still unopened packet.

“You’re drunk,” she said, ripping the plastic open with her teeth. “I’ll do it.” In a move she’d clearly performed before, she rolled it straight down over his cock. The one swift stroke was almost enough to send him over the edge, but the condom muted the sensation enough that he was able to hold back.

Oh my God. We’re going to have sex.
Still not believing that was possibly true he kissed her again, and she responded by pulling him down on top of her, her hand still on his cock, her other hand pushing aside her bathing suit bottoms.

He tried to steady himself against the sand.

“Okay.” She put the tip of him into her body and nodded, an expectant look in her eyes. He pushed, once, twice, and then he was inside her.

It took his breath away; the warmth, the snugness, different from what he’d imagined. He kissed her, holding himself fairly still so as not to crush her, but she clamped her hands against his back, urging him to move with her. He pumped in and out, her body moving out of synch with his, the sensations rapidly peaking inside him. So much to take in, her hands, her mouth, her bare legs, her body pulling at him from the inside. After a few moments he could no longer wait. The orgasm rumbled out of him. He slammed into her, groaning louder than he intended. She giggled again, as he lay panting on top of her, still trying to keep his full weight off her as the sand shifted beneath them.