Saratoga Woods 02 The Edge of the Water (16 page)

D
erric had known he’d blown it when the carnations were distributed. Courtney had sent him thirty-seven. He had sent her two.

He wanted to use The Guy excuse, that explanation for every romantic misstep any man might make. It was, “Hey, I’m a guy,” and it was intended to convey that, as a male of the species, he would
never
really know the right thing to do in a situation involving the heart.

Problem was . . . he
had
known what the right thing to do was. He was her boyfriend and the whole world knew it. So why hadn’t he made a big deal with the flowers?

Someone sure had. Or a lot of someones. Because when he saw her coming out of the commons at the end of lunch, Courtney was carrying what looked like two hundred flowers. She was also looking sad and confused. No doubt, he thought. “Love from Derric” on two measly flowers didn’t go far to match the thirty-seven separate messages that she’d sent to him.

He knew what she would think: His failure in the flower department was directly related to their argument after he’d left the prayer circle. Well, it was and wasn’t at the same time. Something was going
on
with him. He just didn’t know what it was.

It didn’t help matters that Becca King had been standing there when he burst out of that stupid classroom. She’d seen something bad was happening between him and Courtney and, for reasons he didn’t want to consider, that made everything so much worse. The only saving grace about it all was that Becca had rushed off. She hadn’t heard him and Courtney go at it, so at least he’d prevented her from feeling smug.

It had been a wrecked few minutes, though. The worst part of them was that nothing he said could make Courtney see she’d totally betrayed him with her supposed “prayer” about them.

She’d cried out, “Derric! Where’re you going? What’s wrong?”

He’d hissed back at her, “What’s
wrong
? That’s our private business. That’s what’s wrong. What’re you doing talking about us like that in the middle of a bunch of kids?”

She said, “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know we’re hooking up.”

He wanted to kick a hole in the wall. “So what? Dude, I do
not
believe you.”

Her blue eyes rounded. “And anyway I was talking to the Lord, not to them. And please don’t call me ‘dude,’ okay?”

“Fine. Whatever. Sorry.
Courtney.
Well, you were doing your talking to the Lord in front of fifteen eavesdroppers.
And
you should have frigging told me you were going to start talking about our stuff.”

“But you know that I pray. I pray all the time about a lot of things. And I’ve told you I pray about us. D’you think it’s actually
easy
for me when we’ve got our clothes off and—”

“Okay, okay!” He looked around furtively. This was insane. The
last
thing he wanted was a public announcement in one of the high school halls on the topic of how far they’d gone with each other. “So am I right in thinking that you’ve been ‘praying’ about us in that stupid prayer circle ever since we started dating?”

“It’s not a stupid prayer circle.” Her voice was quiet and dignified, but her eyes were stricken.

“It’s a group of high school kids, Court. They’re hearing something that’s none of their business. You’re telling them exactly . . . I don’t even want to
know
how much you’ve already told them while you’ve been ‘praying.’”

“Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like it’s some big joke that I pray at school.”

“Well, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t. Not a single person in the prayer circle’s going to say a word about you and me. That’s not who they are. They don’t spread gossip.”

“You got to be kidding. You’re not that lame.”

“Gossip has no place in the work of Jesus,” she said.

What he said was, “I got to get out of here,” and he left her standing in the hall alone. He walked off shaking his head. Either she was crazy or he was wrong. But one way or the other, things felt
bad
.

Yet this wasn’t the reason he hadn’t flooded her with flowers. It was a good excuse, sure. It just wasn’t the reason. The reason was what was going on inside him. It was the pull of wanting her so badly his whole body felt sore. It was the push of knowing that something very essential was missing when he was with her in a way that didn’t involve making out.

So
what
? he thought. What did that matter? They were good together. They were practically on fire together. When they saw each other, they eased ever closer to the edge, and if he had to fall as he wanted to fall, then he definitely wanted to fall with her.

Didn’t he? That was the question. His gonads were yelling, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, bro!” His heart wasn’t that far behind. His brain was saying, “Come on be reasonable. You’re only human and there’s lots of protection available these days.” But his soul was saying, “Hey, Der . . . Maybe not.”

And he didn’t know
why
his soul was saying that. Only . . . he did know why. Only . . . he wished that he didn’t because life would have been so much easier for him that way.

What made everything so much more difficult was that Courtney turned out to be right about the kids who were in the prayer circle. Not a single one of them said a word. No one winked at him. No one leered. No one said, “Whoa,
mama
, are you guys hot or what?” There wasn’t—
anywhere
—the slightest indication that Courtney Baker was praying for the strength to keep Derric Mathieson from taking from her what she wanted to give to the man she married. So she’d been right and he’d been wrong and even
that
was something he didn’t understand.

He wanted to talk about the entire situation. He wanted to look at it every way he could. But he found that the only person he wanted to talk to about what he was going through was Becca King, and no way could he talk to her.

• • •

TWO DAYS LATER
he finally got the cast off his leg. Two days after that, Courtney suggested that they take a drive after school to a coffee place buried deep in the woods to the west of Langley. Mukilteo Coffee was a roasting establishment that sent clouds of an odd burnt-toast scent into the air, and since it wasn’t easy to get to without a car, it generally didn’t host a group of kids inside its woodland café.

“We c’n celebrate your leg,” she offered. “I bet you’re relieved to get rid of that cast.”

He said okay, and when they arrived at the place surrounded by forest, they found that they had the coffeehouse all to themselves. They ordered their drinks and took them to one of the wide windows looking out at the trees. Courtney was the one who started them talking.

She said, “Actually, I sort of wanted to talk to you. I mean about a lot more than being glad about your leg.”

“Okay,” he said carefully. He waited for more.

“It’s that . . . well, I got carried away. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I mean, I thought you’d feel good about it. But . . . well, obviously, you didn’t.”

Derric stirred his hot chocolate. He hadn’t particularly wanted it, but he felt bad about taking up space in the café without buying something, so he’d gone for it. He should’ve had something to eat instead. His stomach was rumbling. He would’ve liked to settle it. But her words relieved him with their suggestion that she was finally seeing the light when it came to talking about their private business in front of a group of kids.

He said, “Thanks for understanding, Court. See, it’s not that I don’t pray. And it’s not that I don’t want you to pray. But when you told them what we—”

“Oh gosh, oh wait.” She sat up straighter in her chair. “Did you think I meant the prayer circle?”

“Didn’t you?”

“No. I still think . . .” She looked down at her coffee, at the plate next to it. She’d ordered a scone and she took a piece of it. He did as well, but to him it tasted like extra-dry sawdust with a sprinkling of sugar. She said, “Well, that doesn’t matter. I was talking about the flowers.”

Oh, he thought. He hadn’t avoided having to make The Guy excuse after all. He said, “I’m sorry about that, Court.”

“Sorry?”

“You know. I only sent you two. What can I say? I’m a guy. Sometimes we don’t think—”

“It’s not that,” she interrupted. “Well, it is in a way. But it’s more that I sent you thirty-seven. I went totally overboard, like I was out of control or something. I sort of knew it was nuts to send that many flowers, but I did it anyway. I thought . . . It seemed to me that you’d be all joyous, I guess . . . I mean to get all those flowers and notes from me.”

“But I was,” he said, a little bit too quickly.

She cocked her head at him. “No, you weren’t.”

He bristled a little. “And you know this . . . how?”

“Because you didn’t have them with you. When I saw you in the commons? What did you do with them? Did you throw them away? Or give them to someone? Did you read the messages? I mean, it doesn’t matter only . . . I mean, I
shouldn’t
have sent you thirty-seven. You must’ve felt like a . . . Oh I don’t know. But when they got delivered, you must’ve wanted to crawl under your desk.”

“No way,” he said. “It was cool. Really.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “So what did you do with them, anyway?”

Trapped, he thought. He looked out of the window. The forest trees, he saw, wore the tight red buds of spring’s unfurled leaves at the moment. In time they would be a wall of green. A guy could hide behind that wall, he decided. Hiding didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He said, “My locker.”

She said, “You put thirty-seven flowers into your locker? Did you read the notes?”

“Sure I read them!”

“Then why didn’t you mention them to me? Why didn’t you . . . say anything, really?”

That, Derric thought, was the question of the hour. It got right down to that soul thing that was bothering him. He only wished he had a decent answer, but he couldn’t come up with one so he said, “I don’t know. It didn’t seem . . . I wasn’t sure . . .”

“About what? Me? Us? Derric, what’s going on?”

“Hey, you know how I feel about you.”

“I thought I did. And I thought that you were proud that you and I are couple.”

“I
am
proud.” But even he could hear the defensiveness in his voice.
Why
did he feel under some kind of attack when all she was doing was asking some reasonable questions? He said, “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t carry the flowers around. I guess I could have. Or I could’ve carried some of them. I don’t know why I didn’t. I just didn’t.”

Courtney said quietly, “People usually know why they’re doing things. Or not doing things.”

He felt bristly again. “Maybe you do,” he said irritably.

“Maybe you do, too, underneath it all. Come on, Derric. You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!”

“Yeah, something is. At some level you know. Maybe you don’t want to admit it to yourself, but you do know. I hope you figure it out.” She sipped her coffee, then, and joined him in looking out of the window.

He wondered what they would talk about next. Then he wondered why he was wondering. Then he found himself looking at the sweater she was wearing, at its V-neck, and at the soft skin that descended to the heady sweet spot between her breasts.
Then
he wanted to kick his own butt. Talk to her, he told himself, say something, be someone.

He said, “Sometimes I just don’t know the things I think I should know. Sometimes I feel like I’m caught between being a kid and being an adult. It’s like I’m in the middle of a web that I didn’t make, so I’m trapped somehow. That’s where I am now. D’you know what I mean?”

She kept her gaze on the window as he spoke, but when he’d finished, she turned to him. “Trapped,” she repeated. “I guess that doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

That was all she said, but he knew from her tone that she’d mistaken his meaning. At least that was what he told himself. Later that evening when he was alone and she texted him
love you so much want this to be urs
and sent him a picture she shouldn’t have sent anyone, he wasn’t so sure.