Page 59 of All of You
My cock twitches at the thought of her. God, her lips, her hands on me felt like the earth being scorched. I didn’t think I’d be able to walk downstairs and get in the car without everyone seeing my boner. She’s the most gorgeous creature I’ve laid eyes on.
It’s not lost on me that at lunch, when she smiles I swear every other guy in the cafeteria notices. Not just the guys, but Hailie too. She’s got the eyes of a hawk, trained on me. I’m the prey. If I notice Delia, she does too, and not in a good way, but it’s impossible to look away from her.
I wonder if all the guys feel that way—like when she looks at them they have some claim on her. I smile at myself, happy that I’m the only one who gets to touch her and then I’m reminded of her in Danny’s car today and I’m not so certain I should feel so smug.
Dad’s been found. Anderson’s squeal of prepubescent delight rings through the hallway. I really have to pee. I look around,for anything, an empty bottle, an empty storage tote I can relieve myself in. There’s nothing. I refuse to be found. It’s petty I know, but Anderson can’talwayswin and I’m sick of Mom and Dad catering to his every whim strictly on the basis of his mental health.
Maybe I can sneak over to Heath’s and toss a rock at her window—ask what the deal is with Danny.That’s so gross, Langdon. No.If she had a phone I’d text her. Sayhi, what’s up? But no. She’s straight out of the nineties apparently. I can’t talk to her at school, Hailie will lose it if she finds out. Would it really be so bad if I showed up at Heath’s? I just need to see her and tomorrow at work feels like an eternity from now.
I roll my neck and shoulders and wait. The knob on the closet door turns. I make myself as small as possible. All six feet of me tucked away in the back corner—soundless. A triangle of light illuminates the floor to my left. I can hear Anderson breathing. He’s such a mouth breather. Gross. Ireallyhave to pee.Just give up already buddy.I hold my breath. The door closes.
“Fine! I give up,” Anderson announces loudly.
I stand and let out a sigh of relief.
My bladder goes with it.
“Shit. I’m gonna kill you,” I shout busting through the closet door into the hallway as I sprint for the bathroom.
I hate hide and seek.
Thirty
Delia
Lying in bed, I crack open Mom’s journal. A pang of shame claws at my belly. I’d be so upset if she read my words. It feels like a violation of privacy. If she wanted me to know this, she would have told me but at the same time, she’s disappeared. Abandoned me and I miss her. Reading her words makes me feel closer to her in a weird way.
Journal of Jennifer Brickell
October 2004
He proposed! Only Anna knows. She’s the only friend left that I trust to tell and mostly because she’s not at school anymore. Everyone else tattles. There is no privacy in a small town like this.
Obviously, my parents have forbidden us to see each other but we can’t. Won’t. What would I be without his love? Would life even be worth living? He’s started building a small house all byhimself on the west side of town, where there’s nothing but woods and the bend in the river.
He said he’s building it for me; for us, until we have enough money to get out of here and go somewhere else. I cried when he pulled out the braided sterling silver ring.
A band only, but it suits me just fine. After graduation, Jesse says I can work full time. we’ll be able to save so much more money.
We’re going to get married on the beach, where we met, in the water during the summer. He even offered to come to church with us, but my parents weren’t having that.
They had the pastor come over to have a ‘chat’ with me. It didn’t end well. Why does everyone think we’re too young to know what we’re feeling? Teenage rules are boring and screwed up. At this point, I don’t give a shit what my parents or the Pastor says. He is life and I’m sick of drowning in useless adult warnings.
It takes me a minute to do the math, but I’m certain that if I told Mom I was engaged during my senior year, she would kill me. I can’t even imagine what Gramps and Gran were thinking or feeling. But my mother has never done anything the way the rest of the world does so it sorta makes sense to me that she felt so certain.
But what happened? If she was going to marry this guy, is he my dad and why the hell doesn’t she have the common courtesy to use his name ever and make my life easier? I flip through some blank pages until I find the next entry.
Journal of Jennifer Brickell
November 2004
I’m pregnant.
This throws our plans off a little bit, but it seemed like fitting news to tell my parents that we were engaged and then tell them about baby Bean. That’s what I’m calling it for now.
Baby Bean, you were made in so much love. All the love in the whole world came together and created you. You will be magic and kindness and joy. We’re set to marry in April. I might have a baby bump by then, but it won’t bother me a bit.
Mom and Dad didn’t take the news well. It was more than a shock to them. There wasn’t even a sliver of joy at the prospect of a baby. They screamed and sent him away and me to my room. Dad said the most awful things. Things I will never be able to unhear. Things that make me feel like I couldn’t possibly be made from any part of him.
