Separate Schools Read online

  She said, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare,” and took both his ankles in her hands and squeezed him. “Don’t you leave. I’ll kill you.”

  The warmth of her touch soothed him instantly. He took a deep breath to demonstrate to her the inner turmoil she’d caused. A dramatic pause where he would now apologize, she would as well, and they would set themselves right again. But interjected into his dramatic caesura were the sound of two voices behind Taylor. Colt and Rick-Joe. They were coming along the driveway, just beyond Taylor and the open door of the Soob.

  She turned her head and said to them, “He’s in his car. I found him,” and images of everyone wondering Oh no, where did Harrison go? ... Maybe he went to hang himself in the woods came floating to him.

  He said, “I’m fine. I just want to sleep. I just want this night to be over.”

  “No, don’t say that. Come out. Come sit by the fire.”

  He struggled to comprehend. Didn’t she see what was happening here? He said, “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “Harrison,” she whispered, climbed in a little deeper, leaning over his legs now to grab at his arm. She took his wrist, and pulled him, trying to make him sit upright. She said, “Come down and sit by the fire. Don’t try to leave. I’m serious.”

  He was pulled to sit upright reluctantly. Now he was up, he could see Rick-Joe and Colt passing by, talking about something and laughing, ignoring what was happening in the Subaru with sexy Taylor and her stupid high school boyfriend. They went to the pickup truck, opened the front door and leaned in to retrieve something. He said, “Just leave me alone, okay, please?”

  “Don’t be like this, Harrison,” she said. “Please, don’t. Just come down and sit by the fire. I need you.”

  “What’s happening with us?” he said, not looking at her, watching Colt and Rick Joe using the driver-side door mirror.

  She said, “Nothing. Nothing’s happening. Okay? ... Just come down.”

  He wanted to grab her, pull her in with him, close the doors and cuddle up with her. Spoon her, put his arms around her, and they would fall asleep together like they’d done so many times before laying on the Brooks’ couch watching horror movies.

  There was no time for words. There was no time for anything, the pickup’s door slammed behind them, and soon the sound of the football players feet shuffling up next to the Subaru.

  Colt said, “Come on,” to Taylor.

  Taylor pushed herself away from Harrison, using her hands to squeeze his body as she did, then stood next to his car. Now he couldn’t see her face, and she rested an elbow on the roof. She said, “I’m coming. Hold on.”

  She bent down again with her hands on her knees and her head dipped low enough to make eye contact with him and said, “Come to the fire, Harrison. Don’t be like this.”

  Then she was gone. Standing up, walking away. He turned in his seat and inched himself to the door she left open, put his feet out, and watched her walk away, Rick-Joe on her left, Colt on her right. She still wore Colt’s flannel shirt, her skinny bare legs strutting underneath. She laughed and talked while they walked, hands on her hips but with her elbows pointed almost behind her. It thrust her breasts out. They would be looking at them.

  Darkness swallowed them as they dipped down the slope heading to the fire pit.

  Well what do you want to do Harrison? What do you want to do? You can’t leave. You’re blocked in. You can ask Colt to move his car (and Riley would have to as well). You can go and talk to them, tell them how you have to leave, and embarrass the fuck out of yourself. And then have to wait and listen as Colt told you he couldn’t find his keys or something, playing out your torture with cruel glee.

  You could go and sit by the fire.

  She wasn’t saying you were done. If it wasn’t over, it wasn’t over. She didn’t want you to sit in the back of the Soob. She wanted you by the fire ...

  “Fuck,” he said. He didn’t want to go sit by the fire. He wanted to go home.

  Out of the Soob, bag slung over his shoulder, he followed where she’d gone, walking down the slope toward the back of the house. He cut across by the barbecues and came to the top of the steps. He was going to set his bag down and rejoin his friends but he saw them all around the fire—Taylor sat on Colt’s knee.

  Bundled up in his flannel shirt, she gathered it around her thin body and clutched it between her breasts as though she were still cold. Colt’s hand lay on her back, his other hand on her knee.

  He didn’t even see any other faces, he just saw that.

  He took a step down, hesitated, took another. Taylor’s eyes came up and met his and she smiled. It was too much. He turned around and stomped his way back into the house.

  Fucking bitch. What was she doing to him?

  He hammered up the steps and threw his knapsack down the hall where it bounced once, hit the hallway table and skidded to touch the front door. “Fuck!” he shouted. He was trapped here, and it was the last place on earth he wanted to be right now.

  “Hey.”

  A soft, soothing and gentle voice next to him.

  Taylor stood at the top of the basement steps, one thin leg lifted, her foot on the bare hardwood floor. Colt’s shirt was open and he could see her tight tummy and the strings of her tiny bikini. Her wet hair had dried but was tied up in a wispy bun on top of her head. She wore no makeup, but she’d never been more beautiful than right now. Her eyes flitted from his to see where his bag was thrown. She’d witnessed that tantrum.

  She said, “Come up to my bedroom.”

  45

  The first thing she did when they were alone together in her bedroom was step with her feet in between his and wrap her arms around him. She hugged him tenderly, rested her chin on his collar. Over his back, her hands began to work, squeezing his shoulders and his neck. She said, “I love you so much, Harrison.”

  It was one of those sentences where a ‘but’ was expected. This was it. He said, “Just do what you need to do.”

  Hands still working on him, she said, “What does that mean?”

  “Say what you have to say.”

  “I love you,” she whispered into his chest.

  He waited a few heartbeats before his hands went to her, moving up underneath Colt’s flannel shirt and finding her bare chilled skin. Her stomach fluttered at his touch. She said, “Your hands are so warm.”

  The tension he felt was now being squeezed out of him, a certain excitement coming on in its stead. He said, “What’s happening tonight? Just tell me.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and that stabbed him.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening.”

  “Look at me,” he said. Hands taking her by the shoulders, he put some space between them and looked in her gray eyes. She was on the verge of tears as well, biting at the inside of her cheek and watching him. His hand moved to cup the side of her neck, thumb stroking on the fine angle of her delicate jaw.

  She said, “I really don’t know what’s happening.”

  “We’re not good, are we?”

  “I hope we are,” she said, in a sanguine tone. In her eyes he saw some light.

  “You hope we’re okay?”

  “I do.”

  He said, “It’s you. Your decision. You’re the one that has all the power.”

  She tilted her head to rest against his hand, pinching it against her collar. She said, “That’s not true.”

  He laughed without humor. “You know it’s totally true.”

  Her hand came to cover his, the two of them holding her neck now. She said, “We’re going to be so far away.”

  “Can I trust you?”

  She closed her eyes.

  He waited and still she didn’t answer. It was a really simple question, Taylor.

  He asked again, “Can I trust you?” His voice was firmer.

  She said, “Harrison, you’re the best guy in my whole life. My best friend.”<
br />
  Here was that but coming.

  Neck sweeping from his grasp, she moved away, turning her back to him. Arms crossed around herself like she was cold, she walked toward her bed with her head down.

  He said, “That sounded like a but was coming.” Might as well get right to it.

  She turned around to sit on the bed. She said, “I mean it. There’s nobody in my whole life I can rely on more than you.”

  “Okay,” he said, and took a few steps toward the bed, stood near the foot. She looked up at him, patted the spot next to her. It felt like a trap.

  He went anyway, took a few more steps and sat down next to her, turned his face to hers. “I love you so, so much,” she said.

  He said, “Did you get into Michigan?”

  She shook her head no. He said, “Did you apply to Michigan?”

  She shook her head no again.

  An odd, embarrassing sound hissed from him, and his hand leapt to his stomach and covered it. Thumb pressing into his diaphragm, he dug at what felt like a lead ball that had just popped up like a big balloon inside him. Kelsey Kay was right. He knew she was right all along and didn’t want to admit it. “You didn’t?”

  She still shook her head no.

  He said, “You told me you did.”

  She said, “I want to go to California.”

  “I could’ve gone, too,” he said. Those words out in the open air sounded so lame, so weak. She didn’t want you there, Harrison.

  Taylor stared at the floor, her head continuing to oscillate side-to-side, still saying no.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” His voice had thinned to a whine.

  That woke her up, and she shook her head before looking at him directly. She said, “The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” as she reached to cup his face.

  “But you are. Everything you’re doing.”

  “Harrison, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “That’s why you’re going to break up with me?”

  “I don’t want to break up with you.”

  “You don’t?”

  Now her eyes welled up, and she squinted. A tear squeezed from her eye and fell down her cheek, splashed onto Colt’s flannel shirt. A dark stain spread in the colors of his plaid. She said, “I have to.”

  “What do you mean you have to?” he said, darting his head back so she couldn’t touch him.

  Her hand still hovered between them and he reached out and held her wrist tightly. More tears came from her, and she said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then don’t break up with me.”

  “I have to,” she cried, crawled forward and fell against him. He put his arms around her and held her. This was crazy. What was she saying?

  He sat with her for a while, and she cried against his collar and he rubbed her back. Soon he eased her to sit upright again. He said, “Don’t break up with me. You don’t have to. Not if you don’t want to.”

  She turned her face away, her pretty features pinched and curved with intense sadness. Her face shone red, marks of tears lined her neck and cheeks. She very softly said something he couldn’t hear. One word stuck out, and he feared the meaning. He said, “What did you say?”

  She sniffled, whispered, “I’m not going to be faithful.”

  It was like his bomb bay doors opened and all his guts fell out somewhere over Berlin. Suddenly empty, his head lifted off his body, his airy mind floating somewhere near the ceiling and looking down on all this hurt. He said, “You can’t be faithful?”

  She shook her head no. “I know I’m not going to be.”

  He shook her shoulders to make her open her eyes. She turned her face away farther, and he grabbed handfuls of Colt’s shirt to make her sit upright and face him. He said, “What are you saying? You’re not going to be faithful?”

  She said, “I don’t want to break up with you. I love you. But when I go to college, I’m going to ...” She couldn’t finish.

  “Going to what? Sleep with other guys?”

  She nodded her head yes and her face twisted up again. She sobbed and leaned forward looking for another hug. Typical Taylor. Always getting what she wanted. He was hurting, and she was the one who needed to be hugged. Hypocritical Taylor, completely unaware of all the hurt she caused.

  He pushed her back, and she startled. Now she cried harder. “That’s why you’re going on the pill?” Stupid question.

  She didn’t answer, hid her face from him and tucked her hands between her knees. She said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I can be faithful to you. The easiest thing in the world for me to do. You went away to a different school to get away from me?”

  She shook her head no again. “I just want to go surfing,” she sobbed.

  “Bullshit,” he said. “How can you do this? How can you be like this?”

  She said, “I love you, Harrison. I love you with all my heart.”

  He stared at her sweet face. She wasn’t kidding. She wasn’t doing it for attention and she wasn’t doing it to encourage him to soothe her when she was hurting. He could see she meant it. “If you love me so much, how can you sleep with other guys?”

  “Harrison, you’re my only boyfriend ever. Real boyfriend. I’ve only ever been with you.”

  “Is that true?”

  She was offended. She said, “I’ve only ever had sex with you.”

  “I’ve only ever had sex with you, too,” he said, liking the feel in this moment.

  She said, “Nobody will ever be better to me than you. I know it. I really, really know it.” She closed a fist and pressed it between her breasts. She said, “I can’t ...”

  “Can’t what?”

  “Can’t marry the only guy I’ve ever been with. I can’t marry my high school boyfriend ...”

  He put his hands up, unsure of how to respond. He said, “Who said anything about—”

  She said, “I don’t mean that. I just mean, I can’t be with you only ever.”

  “You just have to sleep with other guys?”

  She said, “I don’t have to, I’m just going to,” slightly irritated.

  “You want to,” he said coldly, like it was shameful.

  “I want to,” she agreed plainly.

  A roaring swell of hurt came up from his knees, washing through his insides, weakness swirling up his back and making him slump forward. Taylor desired other men.

  “You can’t even wait to get to California, you want to have sex with Colt tonight, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know? You might?”

  She shrugged.

  “We’re done then? This is it? This is how you want to end our friendship? How you want to end us? We’ve been together so long, Taylor ... Colt is really worth it?”

  “I don’t want to end us, Harrison ...”

  He scoffed, incredulity sparking through him, static shock at how selfish she was. “Typical privileged rich little white girl,” he spat. “Your wants are so simple. You just want fucking everything. You’re such bullshit.”

  She sighed heavily, a sob really, and continued to stare at the floor. A tremble took hold of her lips and her eyebrows tented.

  He said, “You’re everything to me. I wake up I think about you, I go to sleep I’m thinking about you. I do everything for you and this is what I get? ...”

  “I don’t ask you to ...”

  “That’s what you do when you’re in love, Taylor.”

  “I do love you,” she cried, “I do, Harrison, I do, I think about you all the ti-ime ...” She broke into full sobs now and he couldn’t hold his back anymore.

  “Then why are you killing me? This is killing me, Taylor ...”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, I told you,” she cried. “Can’t we just take a break? ...”

  “A break? Are you kidding?”

  “No-ho,” she sobbed.

  “What—you want to fuck every guy at UC then come home and yo
u’ll sit at my family’s Thanksgiving table?”

  She stared at him, eyes trembling, tears streaming, huffing shaky breaths. She’d pursed her lips tight, but it didn’t stop them quivering.

  “I’m not going to say it, Taylor. I’m not going to do it for you. I’m done making your life easy for you. Grow up. If you want to break up with me say it to my face. Tell me we’re through. You push away the best thing you’ll ever have. You do it. Push away your best friend. A break? ... You want us to go on a break? You’re a coward. That’s what a coward says.”

  “I’m not a coward.”

  He didn’t answer, just shook his head at her. Tears returned, and he had to blink them away.

  She said, “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to break up with you. Can’t you hear me, Harrison? I love you.”

  “Tell me what you want then. Really want. Be honest with me for one fucking time this weekend.”

  Before slimming to a line, her lips trembled. She said, “That wasn’t me in the boathouse with Colt.”

  He sighed heavily, looked away and shook his head. “I know. I believe you.”

  She sighed, too. Once, deep, the brief, hoarse sound of a sob laced inside it. Now her face turned up and her gray eyes were wet, the whites gone pink. Tears rimmed her eyes anew and one rolled down and she swiped it away with a quick, childlike movement.

  “What?”

  She said, “That wasn’t me with Colt.”

  “I know, Taylor.”

  “It was me with Stevie,” she blurted, the other boy’s name practically unintelligible because now she burst out crying. She fell against him and her arms hooped his shoulders, clutching tightly; her light body clung to him with surprising weight. She sobbed and wailed into his chest and he held her, eyes staring wildly across the dim bedroom.

  He was right. Of course he was fucking right. He knew it. Knew it was her. Stevie, damn it, it was Stevie.

  “You did that with Stevie?” he whispered.

  “I know,” she cried, acknowledging how bad they both knew it was.

  “You kissed him. You ... You had his penis in your hand. Did you jerk him off?”