She sighs and unwraps her arms from around my neck. “Bye, Travis.”
“Bye, sweetheart.” I want to touch that perfection one more time, so I squeeze her ass. She lets out a yelp, and then laughs as she gets into her car, waving as she drives away.
Chapter 3
Charlotte
THE REST OF THE week drags by slowly, and I can’t get Travis out of my head. I keep thinking about the way he makes me feel. The way he kissed me — slow, demanding. The other boys that I’ve kissed are amateurs, like sloppy fish. Their kisses didn't make me tingle all over. Travis’ kisses, though, are like an electric current flow through me when his lips touch mine.
I know fantasizing is all I’m going to be able to do. He was kissing me because of what happened at the lake; it’s not like a guy like him would ever be interested in me. I’m shy, boring… and inexperienced.
Trying to keep the status quo this week, I hang out with my mom on the beach. We work on our tans and read every trashy magazine we can get our hands on. A part of me wants to tell her about Travis, but I know she would tell me to stay away from him. We don’t live here anymore, and getting involved with someone, when I live over a thousand miles away, is setting myself up for failure. She would be right, too. I hate it when she’s right, even in theory.
Dad and I are also working on a project together. We take pictures and have them developed in black and white. Then we hand color them with oil paints. I’m currently working on one of the lake, and my dad is painting an apple tree.
“Have you put any more thought into what you want your major to be?” he asks without looking at me. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to see me roll my eyes at him. I just turned seventeen, how in the hell am I supposed to know what I want to do with the rest of my life? I would like to pursue photography, but he insists I need a more ‘stable choice of study’.
“I told you, I’m not sure. Can’t I take a year off and think about it?” I look at him so I can see his reaction, but all I see is water coming at my face from the flick of his paintbrush. “Ahh! Hey! What’d you do that for?” I laugh, wiping the drops with my t-shirt.
“Don’t you ever mention that again. Do you know the statistics of kids who actually go back to school after taking a year off? No? Well, I do, and they’re not good. My daughter will not be one of them.” He takes his brush, freshly dipped in red paint, and holds it inches from my face. “Promise me.”
“What? Promise what? Don’t you dare.” I lean back farther in my chair to avoid his brush.
“Promise me you’ll go to school right away,” he says, completely serious.
“Okay, I promise. Now put that thing away.”
“Sure.” He starts to pull the brush back, then pushes it forward and dabs me on the nose.
Without thinking, I grab the cup of water we use to rinse the brushes and throw it on him. A moment of shock crosses his face before he lets out a booming laugh. I join in and get the paint off my nose while he wipes the water off his glasses.
“You always have to take it one step too far, don’t you, Lettie?” he asks, putting them back on while fighting laughter. Dad calls me Lettie most of the time. If he’s angry with me or giving me a lecture, then I’m Charlotte. He could never keep mine and Caroline’s names straight, so he came up with his own system. Somehow, Charlotte turned into Lettie. I don’t mind; it makes me feel special.
“Me?” I feign innocence, trying not to smile.
“You’re worse than me.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are. You always have to have the last word, the last laugh, the last everything.”
I shrug my shoulders and continue painting. My mind confused over Travis, I twirl my brush in circles on the canvas. After a few minutes, Dad gets up from his seat rather quickly. He exits the room and returns with a mirror. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He runs around to the front of my easel and places the mirror under my nose. I laugh and push it away. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, good. I thought maybe you had stopped breathing or something,” he says, putting a hand to his heart. “I mean, you let me have the last word, and I wanted to make sure you were still alive when I did this.” He busts out the running man, then the cabbage patch, followed by what I think is supposed to be the sprinkler. I’m laughing so hard tears are rolling down my cheeks.
“That. Is what winning looks like.” He snaps his fingers and walks out of the room like a runway model, swaying his hips dramatically. Just when I think he’s gone, he leans back in, gives another snap, and flicks his imaginary hair.
Mom walks by, and I tell her, “Your husband is a little crazy.”
“I know. His craziness is one of the things I love about him. He makes me laugh. You should always be with someone who can make you laugh.”
I wipe my eyes again and pack up my paints. Tomorrow is the barbecue, and I want to make sure I have my outfit ready. Not because Travis is going to be there. No, it has nothing to do with him.
* * *
“Hey, look at you. You look super cute!” Meara yells, holding me at arm’s length.
After many outfits, I decided on a simple red sundress and cowboy boots. The jean jacket vest I have on over the top has a lace back, so you can see the red through it. I pulled my hair to the side in a messy braid. I’m glad Meara likes my outfit; she has much better fashion sense than I do. I’m usually a jeans and t-shirts girl but wanted to look nice today.
“Thanks. Here, I have the fruit salad, and my dad is carrying the Crock-Pot with baked beans.”
“Mom’s setting everything up in the garage.” She looks past me when a car door slams. “Liam just pulled up. See ya later.” She practically pushes me out of the way to run to Liam. I watch as she jumps into his arms, and he takes a step back to keep from falling. He smiles down at her before leaning down and kissing her. I want that. I want someone to love me so much they don’t care who's watching and still kisses me like it’ll be the last time. I shake my head and walk to the garage.
It’s a beautiful day today. The forecast says it’s supposed to be seventy-four and sunny, a rarity in the Midwest. I set down the bowl of fruit in the garage and take the opportunity to catch up with my Aunt Sally. I haven’t seen much of her since I’ve been back. We talk for a while, and when more guests start to arrive, I excuse myself and go back outside. The sun blinds me as I step out of the garage and run into somebody.
“I’m so sorry.” I look up and see a guy with his hair slicked back and a gold chain around his neck. He’s either in the mafia or thinks it's a different generation.
“S’all good.” He grabs my arms to steady me and the rough callouses on his fingers scrape across my skin, sending chills down my spine. He holds onto me for a minute longer and gives a wink before releasing me. I turn quickly and walk away, but when I look back, he’s still watching me. Gross.
The barbecue is a great time, and everyone is having fun. My aunt and uncle have a huge yard, and it’s set up almost like a carnival. People are playing corn hole and badminton. The brats and burgers cooking smell delicious. Pierce is carrying logs to the back of the yard to start the bonfire since it’s starting to get dark. I decide to follow him and help light the fire. I love the smell of a campfire. Besides, I haven’t seen much of him since I’ve been back either, and I’m hoping to squeeze a little information about Travis out of him.