Shelf Life (3 page)

CHAPTER Four

“Y
ou’re not wearing that.”

Sarah crosses her arms when I emerge from my room dressed for the party.

“Why not? What’s wrong with this? And why do you care?”

“Normally I wouldn’t, but since we have to arrive together, I have a stake in how you look.”

“You picking out my clothes?”

“Actually, yes.”
She shoves me back into my room and throws open the closet door. “Flannel, flannel, denim, flannel. Wow, this is depressing. You really going to college classes wearing this stuff?” She shakes her head.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have a choice. No job, no money. No money, I wear the clothes Mom gets me.”

“Whatever. Here, put these on.”

She hands me a pale green button-down shirt from Easter and a pair of worn jeans.

“A dress shirt with jeans? Seriously?”

“Just shut up and do it.”

A few minutes later I emerge from my room again, and this time she nods her approval.

“Here,” she says, unbuttoning the top button of the shirt. “You’re not Amish.”

I shrug, picturing the Amish family that lives on our road. Come to think of it, if I put on suspenders, I would look pretty similar. Sarah grabs my wrist and begins rolling up my sleeve. Then she does the same thing with the other one. When she’s finished, she drags me into the bathroom and fidgets with my hair.

“Would you stop? I’m not one of your Barbie friends.”

“No, but if you want a chance with one of my Barbie friends—or any other normal girl—you’ll let me finish. There.”

“I’m just going to put a hat on over it.”

“No, you’re not. Tomorrow you can go back to being gross, but tonight you have to be presentable.”

“Whatever.” I turn to look in the mirror, and as much as I’d love to tell her she’s nuts, I’m impressed. I look damn good.

“Don’t get a big head. You’re still disgusting,” she says, and takes off down the hall.

“Thanks, Sarah. You do wonders for a guy’s confidence.” I watch her retreating back and she lifts her middle finger. My sister’s classy.

Twenty minutes later we pull into the field next to Helen Miller’s house. From here I can see smoke billowing up behind the barn. A few sparks drift on the night breeze, competing with the stars to see which shine brighter.

A swarm of Sarah’s friends surround the Explorer before we’ve even come to a complete stop. With her hand on the door, she says, “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll get a ride home with someone. Got it?”

“Mom said—”

“I know what Mom said, and I’m telling you to forget it. Try not to embarrass me tonight.”

“Will do, Bitch Queen.”

With that, she goes her way and I go mine. She
disappears with a bunch of her squealing friends while I shove my hands in my pockets and wander over to the barn, all the while keeping an eye open for Lewis. With any luck, Lindsey will be with him.

Lindsey… I let my mind wander for a minute, remembering the glimpse of her I got that night last summer. We’ve been friends as long as Lewis and I have been friends, but this past year something changed. I changed, and man did she ever change. She was never ugly, but now she’s hot. It’s weird that I’m the only one who seems to have noticed.

“Shit!” My face nearly hits the ground when I trip over a rock in the field.

A voice in the dark says, “Would that be actual shit, or are you just practicing?”

And there she is. “Hey, Lindsey. Tripped over something is all.”

She leans against her mom’s 1988 Monte Carlo with chipped paint and a loose bumper.

Don’t look at her chest. Don’t look at her chest.

I look at her chest.

In my defense, she’s wearing a dark shirt with “Farm Girl” scrawled across her tits in bright orange. It’s tucked into tight jeans with a big belt buckle, perfectly showing off her tiny stomach and the curve of her hips. Suddenly, my jeans are a bit tight, too. Thank God it’s dark.

“You plan to stare all night, or are we going to find Lewis?”

I bark out a laugh. “Sorry. I—”

“No need to apologize, Pete.” She socks me in the arm then curves her hand in the crook of my elbow. “Let me walk you to the bonfire. You know, in case
you trip over more shit on the way.”

My palms are sweaty, but then I kick myself because it’s just Lindsey. This is the girl who shot milk out her nose at my dinner table and built forts with me and Lewis. Of course, she’s also the girl who kissed me on the lips behind her dad’s tool shed. We were twelve, but still.

At fourteen she dared me to touch her chest, which I did because no way was I backing down from a bet with a girl, but it was weird. She and I spent less time together after that, and never, ever alone. I always made up a reason to include Lewis in our plans. It wasn’t because I didn’t enjoy it. The opposite, really. It’s just…she was my sister, too. I mean, Lewis would have killed me if I’d shown any interest in Lindsey, and he came pretty damn close when he caught me staring at her through her cracked bedroom door last summer.

I was spending the night because I was too tired to walk home and I wanted to make Sarah do my chores for once. We were in Lewis’s room flipping through comic books when I had to take a piss. The hall was dark, but a sliver of light escaped from Lindsey’s bedroom door. I didn’t mean to look, but I swear I was caught in an alien tractor beam. There was nothing I could do. She stood at the end of her bed in a pair of cut-off jeans and a lacy red bra. No shirt. No idea I was watching. I actually drooled on my chin and had to reach into my pants to adjust myself.

Of course, that’s when Lewis popped his head out of his room.

“Oh, gross, man! That’s my sister!”

Her head snapped up and we locked gazes. I turned as red as her bra and she winked at me. Lewis, on the other hand, grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me back into his room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He slammed me against his wall and the whole trailer shuddered.

“What? Nothing. Her door was open. I wasn’t perving on her, it just happened. And I still need to piss, by the way.”

“Sure, I know what you’re
gonna do in the bathroom, and it ain’t taking a piss. I don’t care, but leave my sister out of it.”

“Like you’ve never thought about my sister while getting off?”

“Dude, every guy in the county has thought about your sister while jerking off.”

I’d clenched my fist, but he was probably right. My sister has a reputation.

Here in the field, Lindsey’s fingers squeeze my elbow, but I feel the grip on my heart, too. If Lewis sees and has a problem with me arriving with Lindsey on my arm, I can tell him it wasn’t my idea. She made the first move. Plus, we’re both fully clothed this time.

Completely innocent.

Except for the bulge I’m sporting.

The air turns warmer as we near the corner of the barn. A few papery ashes float past and I get my first lungful of smoke. There must be over a hundred kids here, guys and girls, huddled in groups near the fire, some with drinks in their hands, some dancing, some sitting on hay bales making out. There are old sheets draped over the bales, and colored Christmas lights hang from the surrounding trees. It’s very festive. My insides stop swirling around and I smile.

Lindsey smiles back. In the orange glow from the fire I admire her bright eyes, upturned nose, and the freckles that dance across it. Her reddish-brown hair falls over her shoulders in two long braids, and she’s put on a ball cap. The whole thing combines into a sexy tomboy look I can’t resist. My fingers itch to touch her cheek so I can guide her in for a kiss. She sees me looking at her and grins. I reassess my earlier statement and decide that yes, this is the best last day of school ever.

Lindsey’s face is replaced by Lewis’s. “What took you so long? Your sister got here ten minutes ago.”

“Pete had some trouble walking through the field,” Lindsey says and
lets go of my arm. “Good thing I was there to save him.” I can still feel where her hand was and decide I want it back on my arm before the night’s over. She leans over and whispers in my ear, “I need to talk to you later. Get Lewis to drink a few beers and he won’t notice if we wander off.”

Time screeches to a halt while my brain goes to war with itself. The brother part of me that knows Sarah’s tricks wants me to believe Lindsey is actually flirting with me and has something planned. The clueless guy part says she’s just being friendly and has something to discuss. Yet another part says it would make me a terrible friend to get Lewis buzzed and then leave him alone, but the part of me that’s twitching at the thought of being alone with Lindsey trumps everything.

“Okay,” I tell her.

She gently shoves both of us toward the crowd gathered around horse troughs filled with beer cans
and water bottles.

“What was that all about?” Lewis asks.

“No idea.” Which is the truth. “I’m thirsty.”

“Me too.”
Lewis picks up a water bottle and hands it to me but I push it away and grab a beer instead. “Oh-ho! Going for the good stuff, huh? Good for you. Guess I’ll have one, too.”

I crack open the top and wait for him to do the same. “I figure, this is my first and last high school party. Might as well enjoy it, right?”

“Right.”

We clink cans before taking a few chugs. It doesn’t taste as good as I thought it would, but
it’s okay. Lewis downs his in a long series of gulps. His mom drinks so I guess he’s probably used to it. My parents would have a full-on shit-fit if they knew I was drinking. I mean, they expect it from Sarah, but I’m supposed to be the responsible older sibling who sets a good example.

Fuck that.

I take a third sip of my beer and turn to Lewis. But he’s not there. A quick search puts him next to the beer stash, where he’s grabbing a second can and chatting up a girl from our English class. She’s got bad acne and a huge gap between her front teeth, but I still give him a thumbs up and move away to find Lindsey.

Our friends Jim and John from shop class wave me over, but I shake my head and keep wandering through the crowd looking for that ball cap with shiny braids. I find her sitting in the crotch of a tree away from the fire. She crooks her finger. Of course I obey—as if there’s any other option. I climb the hay
bale steps until I’m high enough to hoist myself up next to Lindsey, careful not to spill a single drop of beer.

This close, her lavender perfume carries above the wood smoke, very light and very much a scent I could get lost in. We’re awkwardly smashed together in the tree, our legs tangled, backs against opposite branches. We’re little kids again, climbing trees on my parents’ farm. All we’re missing is Lewis yelling from the ground that we’re going to break our necks and then telling his mom that we won’t play with him.

Instead of swapping baseball cards and telling horror stories about the smelly kid on the bus, Lindsey’s moving her legs so she’s straddling my lap while I straddle the tree. Her heat seeps through my jeans, making everything warm and tingly.

“Lewis okay?” she asks.

“Fine. He can put ’em away pretty fast, huh?”

She shrugs. “I guess.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, I just worry that he could become like our mom if he’s not careful.”

“But your mom’s not really that bad, right? I mean, she always seems okay when I’m around.”

“Yeah.
Anyway,” she says, and forces a smile, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever been to a party before?”

My face burns. “No.”

“Finish your beer. Then let me tell you how this goes.”

CHAPTER five

I
down that mofo in no time. The can makes a tiny thunk when it hits the ground below.

She leans in until our bodies are pressed together and we’re cheek-to-cheek. She points toward the fire. “The cheerleaders—current and now former—still flirt with the football players—current and now former—while the city kids keep to themselves. The FFA and 4-H’ers are over there, including Lewis, Jim and John, and that’s where you’d be required to hang out if you were down there instead of here with me.”

“I kinda figured the seniors would keep to themselves since it’s the last party of the year.”

“Oh, no, it’s not the last party of the year. These will go on all summer until everyone in our class goes to college or whatever and they become too good to hang out with high school kids.”

“Is Lewis afraid of that?”

“That you’ll ditch him when you start taking classes?
Probably. Will you?”

“He’s my best friend. Why would I do that?”

“I can think of a million reasons, starting with the fact that he can fart the alphabet, but that’s not for me to judge.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re not taking classes. You could ride up to Youngstown with me. You’ve got the grades.”

She looks over her shoulder and shrugs. “I just can’t do it right now.”

“Did you get more hours at the mill?”

“Yeah. Turns out they prefer having a cute chick behind the counter.”

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with you knowing everything there is about feed and the animals.”

She shrugs again. I wonder when she became so self-deprecating. She’s worked at Unkefer’s Feedmill since she was thirteen, though it didn’t become official until she was legal at sixteen. Her uncle owns the business and all family members have to put in their time, except Lewis. On his first day, he turned on a grinder that his uncle was working on and nearly took off his hand. He was told to never come back.

Lindsey, on the other hand, is vital to their success.

Her lips are pressed together in a thin line.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

I’m rewarded with a wicked smile. “I didn’t really want to
talk
about anything.” She wiggles her hips and if all my blood weren’t rushing elsewhere, I’d be blushing again. “But I did want to ask you something.”

I clear my throat. “Okay.”

“Pete Wilson, when are you finally going to kiss me?”

I quickly glance down at the hay bales below.
Yep, if I tip over, they’ll break my fall.
“You mean, the kiss when we were twelve doesn’t count?”

“Nope, and neither do the brotherly ones on the cheek.”

“Won’t Lewis be mad?”

“Let him be mad. Look, I know you’re too shy to ever make a move, so I’m doing it for you. It’s
obvious you want to”—she wiggles in my lap and Little Pete jumps in response—“so here’s your chance.”

I’m nowhere near the top ten of my class, but I’m not stupid. I’ve got her lower lip between my teeth in point-five seconds, my hands around her ass pulling her closer until she’s on top of me. Tree bark bites into my back. I don’t care. Lindsey
Linger’s hands press into my chest and all rational thought goes up in embers. Holy hell, the burn feels good. I can’t decide where to put my hands because I want to feel all of her and I’m so afraid this is a fluke and I’ll never get the chance again. There’s just enough rational thought left in my brain to calm down and think this through. I place my hands on either side of her thighs and move up to her hips, gripping them tight before sliding under her perfectly round ass. I rub for a bit before moving up to her waist, but then I’m faced with a dilemma: Over the shirt or under the shirt?

Sacrebleu
, I’m going for it.

Her skin is smooth and warm under my callused fingertips, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away or anything. Under the shirt was a good decision. Soft flesh glides under my thumbs when I brush them under her ribcage and I think this may be my favorite spot on a girl’s body.
Still, nothing wrong with exploring a bit more. While my hands wander, I open one eye to peek at Lindsey’s face. I want to learn how it looks close to mine and commit it to memory. Long lashes brush her cheek, and her naked eyelids are the colors of an autumn sunset. What really gets me though, what really makes my heart jump up and down, are her freckles. This close, I can count them. I can touch them. Hell, I could lick them if I was sure it wouldn’t freak her out.

I smile against her lips and close my eyes again to concentrate on the feel of her mouth. Yeah, her lips are soft, but that doesn’t quite cover how good they feel against mine and the way my tongue glides over them, past them, and against
her
tongue. My God, her tongue. It’s smooth, but the top is slightly rough, just enough that I wonder how it would feel running up and down… I’m getting ahead of myself. I pull away from her and suck in a shaky breath.

“Holy shit, Lindsey.
Why did we wait so long?”

She smirks. “You mean why did
you
wait so long?”

“Well, yeah. Can we do it again?”

“First, you have to tell me something.”

“Anything,” I reply, without thinking twice. I’d tell her absolutely anything, even if she wants to hear those three little words. They’d be true, and they’ve been true since the first time she tucked a kitchen towel into the back of her shirt and flew around my living room with me and Lewis, superhero-style. We were eight. It hits me that I’ve loved her for an entire decade. What the hell
did
take me so long?

“Was that your first real kiss?”

Crap
. If I tell her no, she might be disappointed that she’s not my first. Truth be told, she’s number four. If I tell her yes, she might be happy, but she might also think I’m a complete and utter loser.

“Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a simple question. You can tell me the truth. It’s just me.”

Just me
. Hah! “You’re number four, but the first three don’t really count. They weren’t even close to this. This was…” My hand flaps in the air while I struggle to come up with an adequate word. “Can we do it again?”

She answers by launching herself into my arms. Too bad I wasn’t prepared. My right foot skids on the tree bark, but it’s not enough to stop the momentum. The stars spin while Lindsey’s eyes get huge and she holds onto me for dear life. My arms wrap around her and I twist so I land on my back. We hit with a thud.

Thank heavens for the hay bales.

“You okay?” I ask, as her laughter rings out in the night air. “I take that as a yes?”

“I’m fine! Let’s do that again!” She rolls onto her elbow and leans over, warm breath tickling my ear.

“Are you insane?”

“Wait for it…I’ve
fallen
for you!”

“I think you’ve gone a little goofy, that’s what I think.
Concussion maybe?”

“You already know I have brain damage, but it’s not from kissing you.”

I flinch. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

When Lindsey was a baby, her mom said she got a couple really high fevers they couldn’t control and it caused damage. You wouldn’t know it unless she told you. I try not to bring it up since it doesn’t really affect her, but I still feel like a douche-nozzle.

“I know,” she says, smoothing her hair. “No worries. Just kiss me again.”

“You know this is cliché, right?”

“What?”

“We’re literally rolling in the hay.” I pluck a piece of hay from her hat.

“You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, this is definitely the best last day of school ever.”

“Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” She presses her lips to mine and I forget all about my stupid big mouth and the dumb shit it sometimes spews.

***

After about fifteen more minutes of making out—which I’ve learned is not nearly enough with her—it’s time to rejoin the party. Lindsey pulls hay from my collar, while I remove a piece that somehow worked its way down her shirt. Or up her shirt. I’m not sure which. “Should we find Lewis?”

“Why, you already
weirded out being with just me?”

“No. Why would you say that?”

“Just wondering at what point you’ll remember we’re like sister and brother and start panicking.”

“Who says I’m going to panic? We’re arguing like an old married couple and that doesn’t freak me out, so kissing you in a tree at a party after drooling over you for years is no reason to bolt.”

She stops midstride and turns to me, laying a hand on my arm. “Years, huh?”

“An eternity in Pete years.”

“Similar to dog years?” She cocks her head and I swear to God she couldn’t be any cuter.

“Nope, the opposite.
One human year is equal to seven dog years, but one human year equals two Pete days. They drag on and on until I swear time stands still. Normally, it really sucks, but I’d freeze this time with you if I could.”

“Pete Wilson, I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Please stop because
I’m
freaking out now.” Her nose crinkles when she laughs. I reach out and tweak it before pressing my lips to hers again.

“Get a fucking room!” Lewis’s beer breath is the first thing I notice, quickly followed by his dilated eyes and the giant hickey on his neck.

“Looks like the gap-toothed girl left her calling card on you, big guy.”

“Damn straight.
Didja know she’s got a tongue ring, too? It’s them quiet ones you gotta watch for,” he says while raising his can in the air and sloshing beer all over me and Lindsey. “Oops, lemme get that.” He lurches forward and begins pawing at my shirt.

“No, man, I got it. It’s fine.”

“Suit yourself. Hey, why were you kissing my sister?” Turning to Lindsey he slurs, “Want me to kick his ass?”

“
Relax, little brother. I kissed him first.”

I watch as several emotions play out on his face in drunken slow-motion. Finally, he smiles. “Well,
good for you! We could be brothers one day. Awesome, right? But I swear, you hurt my sister”—it sounds more like
hurr ma sisser
—“I
will
kick your ass, Twig.” There’s something inherently funny about my skinny-armed, drunk-ass best friend calling me a twig. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says. “I’m a twig, too. Thass true, but unlike Jay ’Roid-Rage Leaher, I gotta good reason for keepin’ my eyes on you.” He points his index and middle fingers at his own eyes then turns them toward me. “I love my sister. We been through serious shit together.”

His diatribe is punctuated by a couple hiccups. I turn my laugh into a cough.

Lewis purses his lips. “Go ’head, laugh, but she’ll tell you. Serious. Shit.” The last two words are punctuated by finger jabs to my chest.

“Okay, Lewis, we get it. Pete won’t hurt me. He promises, right?”

“Right.” I nod emphatically.

“Let’s find you a soft hay bale to lay down on, okay?” Lindsey and I each take an arm and drape it over our shoulders.

“That sounds nice.”

“
Mmm-hmm, here we go, little brother. Easy does it.” We gently place him on his side on one of several hay bales arranged in a circle next to the barn. There are a couple others lounging around in similar states—it’s some sort of playpen for drunken lightweights. Add colorful plastic balls, a couple puke buckets, and they’d be all set.

“Think he’ll be okay? I’ve never seen him drink.”

“He’ll be fine,” she says. “Maybe this’ll be a lesson to him not to get so carried away. He should know better.”

“Know better? It’s his first party, cut him some slack.”

“Yes, but it’s not the first time he’s been around beer and drunks.”

Lindsey and Lewis’s mom took up drinking after her husband left, but I never knew her to get carried away. I’m not sure if that’s what Lindsey’s referring to, or if there’s something else. I decide now’s not the time to delve into it. I’d rather delve back into her
mouth.

Lindsey shivers.

“You cold?”

She shakes her head.

“Let’s stand by the fire anyway. We should say hi to some people.” I oh-so-casually drape an arm over her shoulder. A tiny smile plays at the corners of her mouth, so I can only assume she’s happy about this development.

“Oh, we should? Suddenly you’re an expert on party etiquette?” She smirks and bats her eyelashes, sending my heart into serious palpitations.

“I’m an expert at all sorts of things. You just don’t know it. Sure, roll your eyes. You wait.”

“Whatever. Talk a big game, Twig. We make out one time and now you’ve got swag?”

Something very solid bumps my shoulder. “Who’s got swag? Certainly not Twig here.”