Authors: Angela Morrison
Tags: #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Christian, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Sports & Recreation, #General, #Religious, #Water Sports, #Death & Dying
Taken by Storm (21 page)
I cocoon myself and soak my pillow,
fake sleep when my family returns, kneels,
murmurs
amen
s and
good night
s.
fake sleep when my family returns, kneels,
murmurs
amen
s and
good night
s.
scum can’t pray.
scum can’t crack her scrips
and read at the ribbon,
scum can’t crack her scrips
and read at the ribbon,
Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.
the taste of his tongue lingers in her mouth.
His raspberry kiss stains descend her stomach.
Her betrayal floats before her eyes—
fresh grief suffuses his face.
His raspberry kiss stains descend her stomach.
Her betrayal floats before her eyes—
fresh grief suffuses his face.
scum broke him in the frozen night,
and all she can think of is
what it would have felt
like, what will happen next
time, if he’s still awake, if he’d
let her in.
and all she can think of is
what it would have felt
like, what will happen next
time, if he’s still awake, if he’d
let her in.
Please, Lord
,
don’t slay me
.
,
don’t slay me
.
are all her years of
No
a joke? Cover for a weak sinner
who can’t stay temple chaste,
who almost breaks the big one
the first chance she gets?
No
a joke? Cover for a weak sinner
who can’t stay temple chaste,
who almost breaks the big one
the first chance she gets?
scum can’t sleep, for fear of his body
haunting her dreams.
haunting her dreams.
In morning’s light, scum can’t face
shiny silver sacrament trays piled with purity,
can’t drink cleansing from a miniature plastic cup
knowing Christ suffered for what she did,
what she wanted to do,
what, even now, she aches for
with every breath
she takes.
shiny silver sacrament trays piled with purity,
can’t drink cleansing from a miniature plastic cup
knowing Christ suffered for what she did,
what she wanted to do,
what, even now, she aches for
with every breath
she takes.
LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 11/29 7:12 A.M.
chapter 28
GETTING BACK
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
School is the last place i want to be, but i won’t let Leesie think i need her to come down to Gram’s and be my nurse-maid. i storm around glum and fierce. She looks way too good. Her hair, long and full and gorgeous, tortures me with its scent when she walks by. She’s got on more makeup than usual. Bright glossy lips. Pouting. Mocking. Soft pink cheeks. Heavy eye gunk. i don’t like it—makes her look plastic. Tight jeans and a pretty face. Fake. She should be upset, destroyed, red nose, swollen eyes, dirty, stringy hair. Tomorrow’s her birthday. Guess she got what she wanted—me off her case.
That jerk Troy hangs out at her locker, biceps bulging, giving her Hot Tamales candy. Creeps me out. Guy always has a red tongue. i was just a project, right? Her soul to save for the month. Maybe Troy’s her next challenge. She’ll turn him into a monk or something. i watch him whisper something to her. She slams her locker and stalks away. All hail. The Ice Queen cometh.
Between classes, she walks toward me down the hall. Her eyes latch onto me like she wants to talk. i don’t. My head hurts from my mom screaming all night, and it’s all Leesie’s fault. She should have let me dive. What business did she have messing with that? What does she deserve today? Dirty look? Naw. Cold’s better than nasty—give her back ice.
i stare beyond her and notice a guy creeping up behind, his hand poised to grab her butt. i give the freak a total hands-off-or-i’ll-kill-you look. He hurries by, hands to himself. i can’t help it, glance her way. Red face, eyes on the floor. She caught the look, thought it was for her. Part of me says stop and explain. The angry me knows better. i keep walking.
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
DeeDee’s coming in handy. i let her flirt all she wants. i’m starting to enjoy being around a stacked girl in a clingy, low-cut tank. After tiptoeing around in Leesie’s rarified presence, i’m coming back to earth, happy to relax and be a guy and let DeeDee’s jiggling flesh rev up my animal instincts.
i want old Troy boy to be ticked. DeeDee’s his territory, right? But he’s too busy going after Leesie to pay any attention.
DeeDee invites me to a party at her house. i go hoping Leesie hears. No way she’ll actually be there. She has a Thou shalt not party rule, too. Nobody even invites her.
i arrive about eleven. Loud music. The place reeks of beer. i stand in the open door and remember the last party i went to in Phoenix. August. One last hot night in the desert before school started. Better tunes than this. A kidney-shaped play pool. Volleyball in the water. Chicks in wet swimsuits. Making out with one. Casual. Missing Carolina. Belize was only a couple weeks after that. It seems like years instead of months. Some guy dared me to hold my breath underwater for four minutes. i did five—easy.
DeeDee spies me at the door, grabs my arm, and reels me inside. “I thought you weren’t going to show.”
i shrug.
“Hey,” she yells at a couple of guys in the kitchen, “you can’t light that up in the house.” She turns to me. “Want a beer?”
i shake my head no. Reflex. Alcohol and free diving don’t mix. Not that i’ll need to hold my breath for five minutes here. i should pour a few cans down my throat. i can use some artificial numbing. Maybe i’ll head outside and ask the guys puffing away if they have any extra.
DeeDee has other plans. She knocks back the rest of her beer and pitches the can. She herds me down to a crowded games room in the basement. The stereo blasts. A bunch of girls gyrate in the dark. DeeDee grinds on me until the song fades, then shoves over a couple sprawled on a couch and yanks me down beside her.
Kissing her is nothing like kissing Leesie. She tastes like beer and cigarettes, smells of BO and heavy perfume. After a few minutes choking on her, i thrust her off me.
“My bedroom’s down here.” She pulls me back and bites hard enough to stain my neck. “I think it’s free.”
Why does that make me feel sick to my stomach? Freak. Am i broken again? Damn Leesie. It’s her fault.
i leave DeeDee pouting on the couch.
“Fine,” she yells after me. “Go on back to that stuck-up Mormon slut.”
Never.
i slink out of there, humiliated. Anger sizzles in my fingertips, stings my nose.
Defogged. / Unfuddled.
Isn’t that Leesie’s poem? i want that to be me. No longer haunted by
her
—those hands, that hair, fruity shampoo, and old leather. Deep eyes and a smile that brewed hope. A hundred thousand virgin kisses.
Defogged. / Unfuddled.
Isn’t that Leesie’s poem? i want that to be me. No longer haunted by
her
—those hands, that hair, fruity shampoo, and old leather. Deep eyes and a smile that brewed hope. A hundred thousand virgin kisses.
MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8
Monday morning a couple of DeeDee’s friends station themselves close to Leesie’s locker. i get busy at mine, within easy earshot, keep my back to them, pretend to hunt for an assignment in my binder.
“Did you see DeeDee with Michael?”
“Not for long. They disappeared somewhere in the basement.”
“She said he was really good.”
“How good?”
i turn my head to watch the full performance.
DeeDette #1 bends over and whispers in DeeDette #2’s ear.
“You’re kidding!” she says, nice and loud. They both whip their heads around and stare at Leesie.
She slams her locker door and stalks off to class. My first reflex is to pant after her, tell her it’s a lie, tell her i can’t stop thinking about her, that after her, DeeDee was repulsive. But my legs don’t move. Leesie doesn’t care. Her plastic face reveals that much. Let her think what she wants. If she doesn’t know me better than that, fine.
i lose it with the Troy thing on my way to lunch. Easy to see by the way he hangs on her locker door, pulsing his pecs, that he’s coming on to her again. i turn around, march back to them, hook Leesie by the arm, and hustle her across the hall into the teachers’ bathroom. Shut the door. Lock it.
She jerks her arm away from me. “What are you doing?”
“What are
you
doing?” i stick my angry face into hers. “i thought you couldn’t stand that guy!”
you
doing?” i stick my angry face into hers. “i thought you couldn’t stand that guy!”
She backs away. “You think I have a choice?” She turns her face away. “He hasn’t been this persistent for a long time. Guess he thinks I’m easy now.”
i crowd her against the tile wall. “Want me to set him straight? Resurrect the Ice Queen?”
When she looks back at me, her eyes are full. “I’m sorry, Michael. Really, really sorry.”
The dam i built with my anger cracks, threatens to collapse.
She slides past me, puts her hand on the doorknob. i see the four faint scars i left on it. i jam my shoulder against the door, won’t let her open it. “Wait.”
The air crackles between us. We haven’t been alone since that night. Passion envelops me in a hot surge.
“Listen, Leese.” i touch her hair. “Nothing happened with DeeDee.”
She steps back. i ache to touch her hair again.
“That’s not what I hear.”
The dam goes back up. Floodgates close. My heart starts pumping rage. “Believe what you want.” i leave.
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