Selfish

Chapter Twelve - Birthday Suit

Ch 12

I remember the fight clearly. This time, there was no hiding from it in the woods—it happened right there in front of me on the beach when celebrating my sixteenth birthday.

As far as I could tell in the moment, Jimmy had gone crazy, but later I could tell something was really wrong. I would have to thank him when he finally came home from the police station. He saved me.

Keith and Katherine had taken me to the hospital before going home, and we’d again spent the night in the Emergency Room. Keith spent the night talking loudly into the phone in the hallway while Aunt Kathy cried over my bed and stroked my hair. I remember feeling love all around me in their worry.

I dreamed of Jimmy carrying me home to my mother, who waited with open arms. When I awoke in the hospital, though, it was Keith who was beside my bed, who stood and helped me through discharge, who wheeled my chair to the car and took me home.

He explained that my blood test results hadn’t come back negative (as they normally would within a few hours), but that a positive result would take another day or two to come through. Based on my symptoms, though, the doctor’s believed I had been given a low dose of MDMA. He told me that my mother believed our only option is to pursue a misdemeanor charge against Drew: Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor. When Keith had told my mother of the beer found in Drew’s room, though, she believed it might weaken the case, being twisted as a defense that Keith and Katherine had provided the alcohol. I watched as his face fell with each new contribution. His tired, red eyes never quite met mine.

He went on to explain that the eye-witness accounts only accounted for Jimmy’s assault on Drew; that no one had seen him put anything in my drink, and that no one had seen Drew fight back. Drew could effectively press charges on Jimmy, and there was a possibility he could be tried as an adult.

It was up to me how I wanted to pursue the case. It was up to me whether I wanted to go home to Rhode Island.

Katherine had gone to get Jimmy from the police station after taking Emily to day camp. Although her last day was meant to be that past Friday, they were able to take her for one last day before she would leave for her riding camp. I wondered whether they would change her plans in light of the situation—I would hate to deny her that opportunity.

When my father finally left me to mull things over, I was overwhelmed. I hadn’t cried to this point, and it suddenly welled up inside me, making its way out in heavy, ugly sobs. I had ruined Jimmy’s life. I had inconvenienced everyone. It was my fault Drew was even there in the first place—how had I even considered forgiving him?

While all summer, all I’d wanted was to go home to my mom, I couldn’t bare the thought of facing her now. To leave now would be abandoning my new relationships with my family—I might not see Emily for another year. What would Jimmy think of me?

Would it be better for everyone here if I left? I’d caused them too much trouble already, and I didn’t know that I was worth the constant drama. They all seemed to be doing just fine before I came into the picture.

Crying myself into a new exhaustion, I fell into sleep and didn’t wake until the next morning: my actual sixteenth birthday.

--xx—

I’d slept through Jimmy’s arrival. When I came downstairs for breakfast, he stood from his seat at the table, gawking at me with their mouths hung open as if I were an exhibit at the zoo. Katherine was soon by my side, taking me by the arm to lead me back to bed, but I’d slept for what felt like days.

“I want to eat with Emily before she leaves,” I declared, gently taking my arm from her. I quickly made my way to my seat beside Emily before anyone could protest.

Jimmy slowly sat back in his seat, across from me, his mouth now shut, but his eyes still wide.

“Hi, Jimmy,” I said quietly before turning to Emily.

“You are still going, aren’t you?”

Her eyes darted to Keith and Katherine for guidance. When there came none, she turned back to her food, and whispered:

“I don’t want to leave if you won’t be here when I get back.”

All eyes but hers quickly turned to me, and I felt myself shift under their uncomfortable collective gaze.

“I’m not planning on leaving until the end of the summer,” I stated. I hadn’t actually made the decision before that moment, but I wanted her to go. “If that’s okay,” I looked to the others.

They all, who had been sitting as statues, sprung to life, nodding and smiling, giving their “Yes, of course”s. Katherine had come to my side and was crushing my arms and chest in a tight hug. I felt fresh tears falling fast into her shoulder, and she brought a hand to the back of my head.

“We love you, honey,” she kissed my forehead.

Keith cleared his throat and stood, prompting Katherine to release her tight grasp.

“Good, well,” he looked out the window to the bright sky and cleared his throat again. “We’ve all got to get a move on if we’re going to make it to camp by check-in.”

Emily beamed up at our father and then to me.

Jimmy seemed to stiffen. His smile turned into a tight frown as he looked down at his cereal.

“Oh,” realization seemed to settle on Keith’s face, but I was finding it hard to keep up. I pointed my confusion toward Katherine for explanation.

“You and Jim can’t leave the state while the investigation is ongoing,” she explained quietly.

Oh.

I tuned out the ensuing arguments. Emily had cried and declared she wouldn’t go, but it had already been decided. While the adults wanted someone to stay back with us, they agreed that it was too long of a drive to make alone. They had tried to call Jimmy’s grandparents, but remembered they were on vacation.

They were losing time, and in their frustration, agreed to let Jimmy and I stay home alone—we’d done it all summer so far and we knew not to leave the house. Jimmy had a car in case of emergency—they didn’t have to say it for me to know they feared another seizure.

With worried looks and a long goodbye, Keith, Katherine and Emily eventually made their way down the gravel driveway and disappeared beyond the trees.

--xx—

Once the car had disappeared, I turned to thank Jimmy, but found him already gone from the foyer. I heard the water from the shower start and knew I would have to wait.

Lifting my arm, I frowned at my own growing odor. I realized I hadn’t showered since before we’d gone to the beach! Determining I would take a bath once Jimmy was done in the bathroom, I stripped my cot and took a load of dirty laundry to the washer downstairs—I’d want something clean to change into, and my bag was quickly emptying of clean options.

Taking a clean towel from the laundry room, I stripped off my pajamas and threw them in with the load. I wrapped myself in the clean towel and smiled at my timing when I saw the bathroom door open.

I imagined myself sinking down into the warm bath water and letting the previous days’ troubles eventually disappear down the drain.

Clearly, Keith and Katherine were happy with my decision to stay—maybe I could move forward from this.

I found the bathroom empty, and closed the door tightly behind me, putting on the fan and starting to fill the bath with hot water. I inspected myself in the mirror and imagined myself living here—not just staying here the summer but letting myself be comfortable and calling the place ‘home.’

When I turned back to the bath, I frowned. It wasn’t filling, and I realized I hadn’t plugged the drain. Turning off the water, I came to realize I had no idea how to plug the drain. The silver lever under the spout wasn’t budging, and it wasn’t as if I could physically cork the drain entrance.

Wrapping myself again in the towel, which I held with one hand, I made my way to Jimmy’s room. His door wasn’t latched, and when I knocked, the door started to swing open.

 I couldn’t be sure what I had seen through the doorway, or what he had seen of me, for when I covered my eyes from the view, I had dropped my towel in my haste.

Of course, I had seen everything, though I was too embarrassed to admit it to myself. By the time I’d gotten my towel wrapped again around my torso and risked a glance in his direction, he had taken a pillow from his bed which he held against his hips, hiding himself.

His eyes were wide, and his cheeks red, his lips slightly parted in disbelief.

“What are you doing in here?” His voice was panicked and flustered.

I opened my mouth to respond, though only strained vowels escaped my lips, deepening the red in my cheeks.

I turned on my heels but didn’t move to leave the doorway. I still needed his help. It was just easier not to face him. I heard him shuffling behind me—I guessed to cover himself and get dressed.

“I need your help figuring out the bath,” I finally said, staring at the hallway carpet in front of me.

I heard a crash and turned to look, seeing that he had pulled on his pants (still unbuttoned and unzipped) and had a long sleeve shirt halfway over his head, he’d knocked himself into the dresser. A few books now laid strewn across the floor, on which I thought it would be better for me to focus my attention instead of the pubic hair I could see peaking from between the cloth of his unbuttoned jeans.

Blushing again, I made sure to clutch my towel tightly as I bent to pile the books together and stretched to lift them back to their spot on the dresser.

When I turned again, he was still struggling to pull his shirt over his head, the water from his shower still clinging to his skin and stopping the fabric.

            I quickly went to him and helped pull his shirt down, his head freed.

            I couldn’t help it: I laughed.

            He cleared his throat, stifling his own smile.

            “Right, then,” he started and looked at me. “Uh, the bath,” he seemed to remember, springing into action.

            It took him less than a second to get the bath going, though I hadn’t seen what he did to plug the drain. I didn’t want to ask him to show me, wishing to get him out of the room as soon as possible.

            When he stood, he cleared his throat again.

            “Um,” he pushed his hand through his hair, still damp.

            “Thanks!” I said, pushing his chest heavily toward the door.

            He looked down at me in surprise.

            “I’ve got it from here,” I asserted.

            He pushed his lips together in thought and his cheeks reddened again. Once he was clear of the doorway, I pushed the door shut, making sure to latch it.

            Almost immediately, it cracked open again and his face came into view.

            I had already dropped my towel to ready myself for the bath, and in my surprise, I pulled one hand between my legs and the other to my opposite breast, using my forearm to cover the other.

            I heard the skin of his hand slap over his own eyes as he realized his mistake.

            “Sorry!” He blurted out. “Happy Birthday!”

            With that, the door slammed shut, and I quickly ran to lock it.

            The water in the bath still ran and the room was starting to fog with steam. Sliding myself into the water once it was bearable, I couldn’t take my mind off this morning’s events and shuddered at the thought: we still have to be home alone all day together.

--xx—

Much of the morning then passed in silence. It was proving impossible to avoid Jimmy: when I had gone downstairs to get my book from the living room, he was there already reading; when I made my way into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich for lunch, he was there, sticking his head in the refrigerator looking for something to eat.

When I’d finished eating my sandwich, I looked up to find him leaning against the doorway, his hands stuffed in his pockets, smirking.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he smiled.

Suddenly self-conscious, I turned away from him quickly, taking my dish to the sink and clearing the counter. To my dismay, his footsteps followed me, and he was soon leaning on the counter, his eyes following me.

“What?” I stopped what I was doing and turned to him, now annoyed.

“Um,” he pulled a hand to the back of his neck and pointed his eyes through the glass door leading to the patio.

I followed his eyes through the glass. The sun was beating down on the perfectly manicured grass, white and blue butterflies occasionally flitted into view.

“Want to read in the gazebo?” he suggested.

Not taking my eyes from the door, I nodded. It was a beautiful day. Why waste it inside? And we wouldn’t have to talk with our noses in our books.

“Sure,” I turned to him. His eyes smiled and his lips stretched. I could see the scar on his lip, now that he had shaved away his facial hair. It had lost its color, turning white with the strain on his skin.

Taking our books outside with us, we made our way into the gazebo. The only time I’d been in the gazebo all summer was a memory I’d rather have forgotten. Hoping to replace it, I took in all the beauty from the day.

The skies were a perfect blue, and not a single cloud could be seen. The sun was high above, and I heard cicadas buzzing from the trees. The smell of the pond was sweet, and the air was still. I heard the splashing of water and opened my eyes to see birds playfully dancing in the birdbath. I couldn’t have chosen a better day for my sixteenth birthday.

The gazebo had bench seating which lined the perimeter of the structure, painted white to match the house, I presumed. I took my seat across from Jimmy and opened my book, trying to remember where I’d left off before lunch.

I followed the words on the page and quickly immersed myself in the story. Though it had been a difficult book to get into, now that the story was picking up, it was even more difficult to put down. I lost myself in the words and didn’t look up until I had finished the last word, quietly pushing the book closed and setting it beside me on the bench.

I had forgotten where I was. Jimmy sat across from me; his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the page of his own book. He must have felt my eyes on him, because he quickly raised his gaze to meet mine, and he shifted.

“Uh,” he closed his book and cleared his throat again. “I have something for you,” he fished in his pocket and pulled out a white box, a thin white ribbon wrapped loosely to hold the lid closed.

“For your birthday,” he scooted closer on the bench so we were no longer across from each other, holding the box out for me to take.

It was the only gift I’d received. I assumed Keith and Katherine were too busy dealing with my hospital drama and taking Emily to camp to remember; I had hoped to receive something in the mail from Mom or Sam, but nothing had come.

            We locked eyes, then, and he came closer still, holding the box in my direction. Our fingers brushed when I took it from him, and I blushed at the touch of his warm skin.

            I delicately pulled the end of the ribbon so it fell into my lap and lifted the white lid of the box, finding a silver open-faced locket, which held the image of a bright orange salamander. I had thought it was a photograph which filled the oval cavity, although upon closer inspection, I saw that the image was an intricate painting, each brushstroke a tiny pinprick, the entire image overlaid with a matte varnish.

            “It’s beautiful,” I whispered, holding the pendant in the palm of my hand.

            Without another word, Jimmy lifted the chain from my fingers and unclasped the hinge. I turned to face the pond and moved the hair from my neck, pulling it into a high bun. I watched the pendant fall into my field of vision as he lowered the necklace before me. The cool metal fell against my chest and I felt his fingers brush my neck as he struggled to connect the clasp.

            When he’d finally connected the chains ends, I felt the necklace fall and rest in its place. I turned to him, lifting the pendant to look at it once more, but jumped when I felt his hand gently lift my chin. His serious eyes searched mine before closing as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

            I let my eyes flutter closed, enjoying the taste of his soft lips. We moved our lips in sync, taking short kisses as he snaked an arm around my waist.

            Oh my god.

            We’re kissing.

            We’re really kissing.

            I felt his tongue press lightly against my bottom lip.

            Am I ready for this?

            I felt my eyebrows furrow and my lips turn down into a frown as I put a hand on his chest to stop.

            As I remembered everything that led to this point, my eyes began to well with tears. I kept my eyes closed tightly and pictured the way he’d found me that first night after having run away; the way I had fallen unconscious—more than once; the fights he had gotten into for me. I remembered the charges he might face, now, after he had saved me from Drew. I hadn’t listened to him. I was too much trouble. This was all my fault.

            “Shh,” he cooed as he held my face and brushed my tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs.

            “What’s wrong?” His deep voice was now soft and lifted, comforting, but it only made me cry more.

            “It’s all too much,” I said through my tears, pulling myself away from his touch. I fled the scene, forgetting my book and leaving Jimmy alone to make sense of my madness. Pushing my way inside, I didn’t stop until I had closed the bedroom door behind me and collapsed face-first on my unmade cot.

--xx—

Sam,

            Please write back to me. I can’t make sense of this all on my own. I’m sure you’re out having a good summer, but I need you. Jimmy had to spend a night in jail because of me—and now we can’t leave the state until I figure out whether I’m pressing charges on Drew! I need your help!!

            There’s just too much going on.

            Dad and Katherine get back tomorrow from taking Emily to camp, and maybe they can help me figure things out, but I can’t exactly tell them what’s going on with Jimmy… I don’t even know what’s going on with Jimmy. We kissed again. In the gazebo after he gave me a necklace.

            I’ve been avoiding him all day since it happened, even though he knocked on the door to see if I was okay. I’m too much trouble for him. I keep getting him into worse and worse trouble. It’s not right.

            What do I do?

            Love,

            Lizzy

            xoxo