Read One Voice 02 - Here Without You Online
Authors: Mia Kerick
So, at a quarter to six—when I was about to get off for the weekend—a black Volvo pulled up to the pumps. It was chock full of kids. When I took a closer look, Zander was drivin’, and my little sister was in the passenger seat.
What the fuck?
I checked out the backseat, and there was Casey, sardined ’tween his twin sisters, Sarah and Lola. Three little blondies in a row. Super cute.
“Hi, Natey-Nate,” Lola shouted out the open window.
“Fill her up, Mister Gas Station Man.” Sarah had been coached. I could tell.
Zander popped outta the car and came around to where I stood by the pumps. He leaned over and gave me a quick hug before he opened the car’s gas tank. I just stood there, starin’ from Cindy to Casey, not sure what the fuck was up.
Casey wasn’t one to keep quiet. “Nate, my mom needed gas, so she called up Zander and me, and asked us if we’d take her car to the gas station.” He burst into laughter. “So we hopped on the train, made the two hour trip up here. Now here we are, doing Mom this little favor.”
Pretty sure I was droolin’ at that point, or at least my tongue was hangin’ out. Cuz I didn’t have a fuckin’ clue how to react to what they done.
I felt Zander’s hand on my lower back, pressin’ just enough to remind me he was there. He spoke so soft into my ear. “We came home for the weekend, dude. All of us are staying at the Mintons’ for the weekend.”
“Me and Cindy too?”
Zander nodded. “Well, you
are
the reason we came home. Casey and me don’t wanna spend a weekend without you if we don’t have to.”
And what came next, I couldn’t believe. Zander got up on his toes and planted a soft kiss right, full on my lips. I fought the urge to look and see if the dudes workin’ late in the garage were watchin’ us. Not that I gave a shit, cuz the chills goin’ up my arms and spreadin’ across my chest felt so good.
Plus I lost my breath when I heard his words. It just meant so fuckin’ much. “’Kay.”
Cindy turned and glanced out the window. “Nate, if I get along good with the twins, Mrs. Minton said I could babysit them for real in the future.” She was stoked.
“Mommy’s making chenchy-wadas.”
“Lola—it’s enchy-wadas.”
In the backseat, the girls started bickerin’ over the way to say enchiladas. It didn’t bother me at all, cuz I knew I was gonna be eatin’ Mexican with my guys that night. And Cindy would be safe. And happy too.
“The guy who’s on the pumps tonight is here, so lemme go and cash out. Then I’ll stop by my house to get my shit, and I’ll be right over.”
“I already got your shit, bro. It’s back at the Mintons’ house, up in Casey’s bedroom.” My sister grinned like she was stoked that she pulled one over on me and then she hopped out of the Volvo. “I’ll drive over to the Mintons’ with ya, ’kay?” Cindy didn’t wait for an answer. She just trotted over to the truck, and I thought maybe she was pumped up over us havin’ a real family-like weekend.
I took the cash for the gas from Zander, who gave me a quick wink, and then I bent down to look into the backseat at Casey. “See ya in a few.”
He smiled in that sweet way that only Casey knows how to do, and then they pulled away. I didn’t waste no time gettin’ my ass in the truck.
C
ASEY
’
S
REAL
LIFE
W
HEN
WE
got to my house, my mother came and took the twins inside, and Zander and I waited in the driveway for Nate. I felt like a groom waiting for his bride. Except there were two grooms waiting for Nate, who was another groom. When Nate’s truck finally pulled in, we managed to keep our cool until Cindy went inside. The second Nate came around the truck, though, we kind of attacked each other.
Zander and I pressed our bodies to either side of his chest, and I was only satisfied when I felt his arm come down around my shoulder.
“You guys. What the fuck’re ya doin’ here, huh?” Nate sounded dazed.
Zander replied quickly. “Our family comes first. The three of us being together is the most important thing.”
I was glad that Zander had responded with such conviction. It proved to me that he understood what was truly important—that he had his priorities set correctly. I added, “We didn’t want to be away from you for a weekend, and we figured, as long as we study while we’re here, we can spend the weekend with our favorite people.”
“I might have to take over nail-paintin’ duties with your little sisters for ya, Casey. Y’know. So you can do your studyin’.”
“You aren’t going to have to be a manicurist this weekend.” I couldn’t help teasing him. “Your sister is staying with us too. She told me she loves painting nails. She even brought her own kit, with stickers and jewels. Lola and Sarah are going to be in manicure heaven.”
“But wait, Zander.” Nate pushed us both back. “You can’t miss your One Voice meetin’ on Sunday night.”
Zander looked up at Nate’s stricken face. I was pretty sure he realized, at that moment, just how important
his
goals were to Nate. Zander looked at me, his eyes wide and maybe a touch guilty. Then he spoke to Nate. “No worries, man, I’m not gonna miss the meeting. We’ll leave Sunday afternoon in time to get to One Voice. Unless you want us to stay later, which won’t be a problem. I can e-mail everybody and cancel, and I’ll be glad to do it.”
“No. No, Zander. I want you to get back for the meetin’. It’s
important
.”
Zander pulled his gaze from my face. “Not as important as
we
are.”
Nate bent down and kissed Zander so sweetly I thought I might burst into happy tears. Even when Nate had ended the kiss, Zander kept his face lifted toward Nate, as if he were hoping for more. And when Nate bent down and kissed my lips, softly and reverently, I allowed a couple of isolated tears to fall from my eyes. Tears of joy were nothing to be ashamed of.
T
HE
NIGHT
was more than incredible. My mother’s Mexican cooking is legendary, so we all ate until we had trouble fitting into our pants. After dinner, we climbed on the sectional couch in the family room—all of the “kids,” Nate, Zander, Cindy, Lola, Sarah, and I, piled onto it with plenty of pillows and blankets. I had to give credit to my parents. They were incredibly accepting of what probably seemed a little bit strange to them—three guys in love. They even made us popcorn and lemonade and then sat down together on the love seat in the far corner of the room. We all watched
Toy Story
. Though it was crowded on the couch, and stray little girl hands and feet kept finding their way to my ribs, I felt warm, cozy, and safe—part of a family. I hoped that Nate and Zander felt as connected and secure as I did.
W
E
SPENT
much of Saturday in the same studying position as we spent most of senior year. I sat on the floor in front of the living room couch, where Zander and Nate sat close together. Nate kept his hand planted in my hair, which I’d missed. At dinnertime, Mom and Dad piled the girls in the Volvo and took them all to Dairy Queen for hot dogs and ice cream.
“I wanna take my guys out on the town.” Once the crowd was out the door, Nate came to stand in front of Zander and me. “You guys been studyin’ your asses off. Least I can do is feed ya good.”
“But… but my parents took the g-girls out,” I stammered. “That means we have a couple of hours
alone
before they go to their own dinner reservations.”
I looked at Zander, who appeared extremely eager. Then I glanced back at Nate, who looked troubled. “No,” was all he said before he turned toward the wall.
Zander and I exchanged confused glances, and then Zander said, “But I thought we were gonna… you know. I thought we were gonna
make love
next time we were alone.”
Nate started shaking his head slowly.
“Why not?” My words sounded whiny. Nate just kept shaking his head, but I noticed that his shoulders had slumped down, making me want to hug him. So I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Why do you not want to make love to us?” I made sure to use a gentle tone.
Nate didn’t turn around, but he did answer me. “I
do
wanna make love to you guys. More’n anything else.” I could feel his chest swell against me as he took a deep breath. “It’s just… I don’t want it to happen here,
like this
.”
Neither Zander nor I spoke. We knew that Nate had more to say, and sometimes he needed time to express himself. So we waited. “I don’t wanna worry somebody’s gonna come in and interrupt us. I don’t wanna rush it. Don’t wanna have to get up afterward, real quick, and throw our clothes on and act like nothin’ super monumental just happened.”
I understood his feelings, even if I didn’t want to.
“After we get close like that, I wanna be able to hold you guys naked, like for hours.”
Zander stepped up beside me, placed both hands on Nate’s shoulders, and rubbed. “You’re right. This isn’t the right time.”
Although I was disappointed, I also realized it was not our perfect moment. “So, Nate, where were you thinking of taking us for dinner? I’ve been seriously craving Japanese, if that helps you make a decision.”
Nate turned around, his long arms still dangling awkwardly by his sides. “You guys get me? I mean, you get what I’m sayin’?”
We both nodded.
“I actually kinda love you more for what you just said, dude.” Zander didn’t make direct eye contact with Nate as he made this confession. “It’s not all about sex with us. And you reminded us of that fact.”
Nate blushed, his skin turning a deep red. He reached up, pulled his long hair off his shoulders, and held it against the back of his neck for a few seconds. “You guys are too special to rush it. But if we wanna get back from dinner before we have to babysit so your folks can go out, we’d better get our asses in gear.”
I couldn’t help it. I pretty much jumped on Nate. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. “I love you guys so much. Our love is worth waiting for.” I knew as I said it that I was going to buy candles and fancy glasses to drink fake champagne out of on the night we first made love. And that there would be mood music and satin sheets. Making love to these two men meant everything. The evening we became one would be perfect in every way.
8
N
ATE
’
S
D
IARY
September 8
D
IDN
’
T
GET
off so easy last night. Had to call in sick to work today. Shit, I ain’t sick. But I
am
a fuckin’ mess. Can’t be seen in public ’til the swellin’ goes down some.
See, Cindy was in a nasty-ass mood last night. Like, what’s new, right? She needed Uncle Rich’s signature on some field trip permission slip and cash for her lunch account, and she wanted them things ASAP. Couldn’t wait ’til Uncle Rich had sucked down a couple beers—enough booze to soften up his asshole mood. The girl seriously needed to stuff a sock in it, but no, she kept right on bitchin’ at the man. And finally he’d had it. From where he was standin’ in the kitchen by the fridge, he just turned around and chucked his empty beer bottle at Cindy, who was standin’ in the hallway. Got her hard on the arm. She started wailin’. Before I knew it, he was goin’ at her, his fists all balled up and ready to pound.
Couldn’t friggin’ let that happen.
I rushed in between them two. Knew I was gonna get the stuffin’ beat outta me before I even moved. Did it anyhow.
Once Uncle Rich is in a rage, there ain’t no coolin’ down for him ’til he’s pounded on somebody. I knew it had to be my ass that got whooped, not hers.
Only problem was, it wasn’t my
ass
that took the brunt of the beatin’. Just so happened, my head was the closest thing to his raised fists. Beat on my ears and face ’til I crumpled up on the floor, coverin’ up my head with my arms. Then he took a few good kicks at my belly for good measure, and he was out the door.
Thankfully, Cindy had the good sense to take off when he started clobberin’ me.
I lay there for like half an hour or so after the beatin’, I’d say. Breathin’ fuckin’ hurt. Movin’ fuckin’ hurt. Thinkin’ even fuckin’ hurt.
So I didn’t call Zander and Casey last night and didn’t answer their calls or texts or e-mails or nothin’. They just know me too well, and I was afraid they’d pick up that I was in total survivor mode. Needy as hell. One hurtin’ unit. Then they’d leave school to come check up on me or some stupid shit like that. Can’t have that happen.
This here is my problem.
Today I iced my face and sides ’til I thought I was gonna get frostbite. And I made myself accept that I wasn’t gonna be able to see my guys this weekend. They’d take one look at me and put up a huge fuckin’ fuss. Christ knows, I don’t need that shit.
And Cindy, she’d have to be blind to miss that I’m one hurtin’ unit, but she more or less pretends that she don’t see it. She don’t even make more ice for my injuries when she uses it all in her soda. It’s like Cindy’s testin’ me to see how far she can push me before I take off on her too. Maybe she wants me to prove I love her enough to suffer for her. Don’t really know her reasonin’.
My plan? Yeah, I got a plan. First off, gonna talk to Cindy about keepin’ her trap shut when she’s havin’ an overload of teenage hormones. She don’t need to make me prove nothin’ cuz she oughtta know how much I care about her at this point. Second, just gonna tell my guys I have to work this weekend and I’ll see ’em next weekend, for sure.
Easy enough, huh?
You’d think so. But my boyfriends are like pit bulls. They already called and texted me no less than ten times. “Where are you, dude?” “What’s wrong, huh?”
Shit. They can’t fuckin’ find out. Don’t know what they’d do or how they’d react to knowin’ I got pummeled again. They wouldn’t get that I’m
used
to this shit.
I know how to deal
with
this shit.
They’d want me to change things up—like for me to move Cindy somewhere else and move down to Boston with them. But to me, and to Cindy too, changin’ shit around seems like nothin’ but a bunch of question marks for the future. Poor Cindy’s had enough question marks. She needs to just stay put. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what’s best for her.