How Not To Read online

  She’s quiet, so am I but after a moment, I break the awkward silence not wanting her to overthink anything. I take my hand and splash it across the water surface in her direction. I barely get her wet.

  “WHAT THE HECK!” she laughingly scolds me. “How not to treat a lady rule number two hundred thirty-six: You don’t ever get a girl’s hair wet.”

  I already know not to spooge in a girl’s hair, or their eye, but that was only one time, and lesson learned. But again, I simply keep my mouth shut and shoot a smile her way.

  “Let’s hop out of the water and head to the sand volleyball courts. I’d like to whip you in a game.” I make a conscious effort to not overthink life and I just know Ari is questioning my intentions at this point. I’m hoping just about anything will distract her. I haven’t thought far enough into my own actions and why I kissed her to be able to answer any question she might throw at me.

  After a few games in the sand, we collapse on the grass next to our picnic table and rummage for the water bottles we packed. I have to say it’s the first time since hitting puberty I’ve had water at the lake, but I don’t want to make Ari feel uncomfortable, the risks of scaring her off affect Gavin so much more than me, so I keep my shit together, at least when I’m around her.

  “Soooooo,” Ari fumbles.

  Not wanting to know where she might be leading this I quickly offer, “Better get you home, I’ve kept you away all day.”

  She nods hesitantly at me and I’m grateful that she’s lost interest in whatever she was going to say. I need my own time to process today.

  We drive home in silence. Both of our skin has been bathed in sunlight and the golden rays have made us grow tired. I know I’ve kept her out for far too long and yet the voice in my head telling me I can’t get enough of her is worrying me. I only hope she isn’t in any kind of trouble. I always picture rich parents to be one of two ways; strict and conservative with their white clothing and pastel sweaters draped across their shoulders reminiscent of Will’s aunt and uncle in Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, but maybe I’ve seen too much TV. Or they are the complete opposite, snobby and arrogant, more concerned with their own trips and lives to monitor anything their children do, so they run wild grasping for any bit of attention they might get. It’s like that in Glennville too but not for the same reasons. In Glennville, your parents aren’t around because they work three jobs to make ends meet. Kids can do whatever they please which usually consists of sex, drinking, and sometimes harder drugs. Jeff dabbled in selling some of that stuff and occasionally on a rare night I’d find him high out of his mind on pot, hiding from the terror of his house.

  When we reach the gravel road, she begins to unbuckle herself from her seatbelt and as I pull to a stop, she hops out.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” I offer, trying to be the gentleman she expects and deserves.

  On the last step up to the door, I pause, and she turns to me and finally speaks again.

  “Thanks for today. I promise I’ll get back to work on the books tomorrow.”

  “No worries. We should be having a little fun. It’s the summer, and probably the last one you will have here and I’m stealing you from all your friends.”

  “ALL my friends pretty much consist of Emily, so I think it’s fine. This side gig really is helping me, Torren. Getting the car is going to save me a lot of money that I won’t have to spend my own money on now. I can save that for other things. I’m sorry if in the beginning I made you feel like I was ungrateful. I was mostly just skeptical.”

  I push down the sympathy seeping into me for Ari. She’s made it evident that she doesn’t feel like she fits in with the crowds at her school, but I am comforted that she has Emily. It is only in the past year I have learned to appreciate solitude. In school there was never a moment there wasn’t a crowd to entertain or people observing your every move. I stare at her golden locks and move into her, close enough to smell the light shampoo scent still coming from her hair after a long day at the lake and I pick up the strands hanging right above her breasts and tug on it playfully. I’m not sure why I do it but I can’t seem to shake the overwhelming desire to touch her and this seemed the most appropriate, like I wasn’t crossing boundaries or leading her on when I don’t even know what I want.

  “Well, maybe next time we go on an adventure together we will invite Emily to come along.”

  She offers me a polite smile, but steps back from the world we were losing ourselves to and she heads for her front door.

  “See you tomorrow, Torren.”

  Chapter 7

  Ari

  Today was not supposed to happen. Today we broke a rule, we crossed a line. I’m not sure why the shame hasn’t washed over me. I bask in the memory. Torren is forbidden fruit, but despite my original indifference, I’ve slowly warmed to his carefree ways. I’m jealous of it really. I live a life of structure, always have. Piano lessons, tutoring, anything that looks good on a resume has become a part of my schedule thanks to Mom and Dad. They want the best for me, I can’t blame them, but I also wish I had what Torren has. Freedom, even at the cost of stability. When he wants something, clearly he doesn’t think twice. I wish I could stop dwelling on it. I wish I could pretend it didn’t happen. I wish I hadn’t felt wanted or desired for the first time, ever. Torren makes me feel normal and I hadn’t felt like that in a long time. Despite everything, all the times I was short or rude to him, when he kissed me today his lips had felt right, even if the entire rest of the afternoon we both tried to mask thinking about it or overanalyzing it. I had plenty of time for that now.

  I regret all the time I spent pushing him away. It wasn’t fair to him, but I know the kind of pushback we would face if we ever decided to be something real. My parents, everyone at school, anyone in town that saw us together—they would all criticize. Not that it should be up to their snobby asses to have an opinion anyway, but the point is that this town wouldn’t make it easy on us. I think about the kiss again. I can’t help but smile. I can’t help but feel something real. Every inch of my body is tingling. One minute we were talking, floating, and the next his lips were on mine. It seems apt that we were floating, because that is exactly what being near Torren feels like. Like space. It felt organic at the moment and I can’t help but wonder if all things with him happen like that.

  He sprung the kiss on me and I was kissing him back before I even had a chance to process the fear behind it. I allow myself to muse over the way he touches a woman or makes her feel.

  I’m not sure if continuing to work with him is a good idea but the excitement is overwhelming. It’s screaming at me, the voices in my head ecstatic, telling me to live a little.

  I need to process this and the only person I trust is Em. I mindlessly dial her number. I’ve never seriously talked to her about boys before, but I need a sounding board to get my thoughts straight. The phone rings and rings, my stomach lurches with my nerves. I resign to calling their home phone instead. She’s probably busy. Is this one of the weeks the Andersons are in Greece? Dear God, I hope not. She picks up after the fourth ring.

  “Door to Door Dildo Delivery, no job too big or small how can we help you?”

  “What the fuck Emily?”

  “A?”

  “Who answers the damn phone like that?”

  “Sorry, I thought you were one of Tara’s friends again. It’s rarely for anyone else. Dad took her phone away a week ago and this thing hasn’t stopped ringing.”

  “Did he take yours away too? I just called, and you didn’t answer.”

  “Nah, I was just sitting with Margarita, I wasn’t next to it.”

  Margarita is their housekeeper. Emily has this fascination with the lives of the Andersons’ staff and she’s constantly badgering them for answers because she’s convinced they all lead secret lives after their gardener told her about an alien encounter, he swears by and then mysteriously went missing. His mom still puts out missing posters every Sunday, but while Em thinks it was h
is alien invasion, I’m more inclined to think the guy just ran off.

  “Crap, I almost forgot to tell you, Lucas Silva messaged me today. He said Evan is going to be back in town this weekend and wants us all to do something.” My heart falls. I had forgotten about Evan. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  “Em, I completely forgot about Evan. I’m swamped with work this summer.”

  “A, PLEAAAAAAASSSSEEEE,” she whines through the phone, already predicting my resistance. “LUCAS. SILVA,” she says it as if that’s all she needs to say. Em has been obsessing over him ever since she arrived in Layton.

  “Why didn’t Evan just message me if this was a group thing? Maybe Lucas just wants your nuts.”

  “He is going to be sorely disappointed if he’s looking for nuts.”

  I crack a smile at that.

  “Let’s talk it over at lunch tomorrow. I have a lot to talk to you about.”

  “Fine, but I have church in the morning, so it needs to be after one when we get out.”

  I wrap up the conversation and pick a place near Em’s church and we plan to meet as soon as she gets out. I lay my head back against my pillows and fight the battle against tired eyes, but a vigilant heart.

  ~

  I arrive early to the café wanting to miss the swarm of the post-church crowd to find a seat. It’s a surprisingly nice day, despite the summer heat a breeze blows through and I pick us a table out on the front patio under an umbrella. I see Emily approaching a few minutes later and I wave her down.

  “Alright,” she starts before she even sits down. “You start so that I can finish with a strong argument as to why I need a date with Lucas Silva.” As she says this, she, not-so-subtly, points to her crotch. Em needs to get laid. I’m not so daft I can’t put that together, despite my inexperience in that area. I’m not sure if Em realizes I’m still a virgin. When she got here last year, we were a very slow-moving friendship, but she’s always been very open about her sex life. I usually hear about her different boyfriends over lunch in the cafeteria and to say she was more advanced is an understatement. Emily dates these foreign men until she can convince the Anderson family to vacation to their country, in which she has what sounds to be fantasy trysts with them only for them to fizzle out once she returns to America. The summer she arrived she did date this one guy who was from Layton, but he graduated several years earlier. He had to be at least twenty-one.

  “So, what did you need to talk to me about?” she prompts, and I’m pulled from my distraction.

  “Well, I’ve been helping Torren out, in order to get a car before next year, but I just feel like things have changed lately.”

  “Changed how?”

  “I don’t know. Just friendlier I guess, maybe even flirtatious at times. Yesterday, he kissed me.” Emily’s jaw drops and her dramatization is in full effect today.

  “And I don’t know what it means, Em. We didn’t even talk about it after. We were at the lake just taking the afternoon off and it happened in the middle of the day and we didn’t get home until after dark and we still didn’t talk about it. I don’t know if it was a mistake or not, if we should ignore it, does it mean anything? I have so many damn questions.”

  “It’s cute when you try to cuss, but you’re overthinking this, A. While this mechanic hottie of yours does get to make that decision, you do too, and it shouldn’t be based on his. Was it a mistake to you? Do you want to ignore it going forward? Did it mean something to you? Did you feel a spark? If not, then just tell him ASAP so it doesn’t get awkward if he feels different. But if you do think there are feelings there…. Then we have to figure out how you tell him. So how do YOU feel about it?”

  “I don’t know… The kiss was nice. Softer than I expected him to be. He’s fun to be around, I don’t hate doing the work with him like I thought I would. Plus, he’s nice to look at.”

  “Yeah, he is. So enough said. You were into it.”

  “There’s more to think about than just that Em. He’s not from around here. People are going to talk about us if I date him.”

  “Fuck them. People talk and gossip. It’s human nature, they also move on when they get bored.”

  I sit there unsure, questioning if I could even allow myself to have feelings for Torren.

  “Well,” Em interrupts my thought. “That kinda totally destroys my argument for going on a date with Lucas.”

  I smile at her. “I haven’t made my mind up yet, but it’s been good to talk things through. I could still go on a double date with you guys. But just ONE. I don’t want to give Evan the wrong idea.”

  Her eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning. Before she can get too many ideas in her head, I throw out, “But make it someplace low maintenance, I don’t want others to see us and start talking, only to be seen with Torren later, IF I decide that’s what I want.”

  “Done, I’ll pick someplace shabby so we don’t run into anyone else. I’ll set everything up, you don’t even have to worry about it. You da bomb, A.”

  I laugh her off as the waiter makes his way to our table and takes our lunch order.

  When he leaves Em does what she does best. She pries.

  “So, give me the deets. How did this go from the bitter side-eye and bitch face you were giving him three weeks ago?”

  I tell her. I tell her in the most monotonous tone I can summon so that my vulnerability doesn’t show. I explain how my feelings started to drift, how Torren jokes with me, how he’s kind to me and most of all the little touches that sends fire to my veins.

  She listens raptly, despite my feigned interest. This bitch sees right through me. She knows. The gig is up. I’m becoming nothing but a sputtering love-struck egomaniac like all the other girls did years ago when they were still fourteen. I wonder why it took me so much longer to find this feeling of lust.

  I spend the day with Em. We go back to her house and sit out by the pool. When it starts to get dark, she takes me home. Not twenty minutes after she’s left, I get a text from her.

  Em: The deed is done. You. Me. Evan and Lucas on Friday at the movies on the west side. The dollar theater that plays old movies. I convinced them I wanted to see the old IT because it’s better than the new one.

  I’m entertained by her effort. Emily probably won’t even realize there’s a big screen in front

  of her if Lucas sits next to her.

  Chapter 8

  Torren

  On Monday I’m busy at the shop, slammed with cars when I get a text from Ari that she can’t meet tonight due to some dinner party. Relief washes over me initially. I’ve spent the rest of the weekend ignoring the building chemistry and attraction. However, throughout the day I find myself distracted with her, unable to avoid it any longer. I want to constantly run my hands over her hair, and down her spine. I want to feel her beneath my fingertips. I’d like to see her at my disposal. I would be her downfall, but I would make her love every second of it if I only had the chance. I feel annoyed and agitated for the smallest reasons, knowing it’s not a good idea, knowing we could never be a match here in Layton. We are separated by background and environment, and too many rules of society. Life would be safest if I stayed in my lane, and she stayed in hers, but I’ve always liked a little danger.

  Throughout the morning my temper flares for the smallest reasons. Who has a dinner party on a Monday night? Rich people that’s who. The people that have dinner parties every day of the week and I’m reminded what divides Ari and me. I text her back and tell her it’s no problem and we agree to meet at my house again tomorrow. I continue with my day, grumbling through each vehicle I service. I’m pretty sure Gavin picks up on it but leaves me to do my own thing and doesn’t bother interfering or asking me about it. I appreciate this because I’m better left to my own devices when I’m trying to figure my own shit out.

  When Tuesday comes, I pick Ari up at the coffee shop per our usual routine. The ride to my house is quiet, but we fill the silence with music. She picks a station that pl
ays her preppy punk music, something along the lines of Green Day, or Simple Plan. All the punk rock boy-banders are sporting eyeliner these days so it’s hard to tell them apart. We picked up where we had left off on Saturday with receipts still scattered about. We were getting close to having them all sorted and then it would be up to Ari to figure out all the calculations from there. I played more music once we got to work because conversation was still sparse between us. A noticeable drift was between us today, yet neither of us was brave enough to face it straight on. When we file the final receipts, it feels like a weight is lifted, finally the real work can begin. I grab us some celebratory Little Debbie cakes from the counter and some lemonade. I lean back in my chair at the kitchen table with Ari to my left and my legs propped up on the chair to my right.

  “How do you eat these every day and not get fat?” she ponders aloud.

  It’s the first attempt at conversation we have had.

  “I work a job that requires labor,” I say it as if she wouldn’t understand what that means but I know that’s an unfair judgment to make about her. “Plus, I still work out…” I add to lighten the blow. “Typically, after you leave, I come back and go for a run. I’ve got a weight set out in the garage that I use as well. I can’t let this physique go to waste. It would disappoint all the ladies.” My cocky response has her spewing lemonade from her mouth with a scoff…

  Right.

  Into.

  My.

  Face.

  I’m covered in sticky lemon flavored juice. I slowly bring my hand up to wipe the excess from my skin and open my eyes to look at her. She is stark still. Half horror, half humor fills her eyes as her hand covers her mouth.

  “You are going to pay for that you little shit. You have three seconds to run.”