The Reverse of Everything Read online

  I reached a hand to him, squeezing tightly. “I’m so sorry, Milo.”

  “Me too. That saying ‘better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,’ that asshole didn't know what it was like to lose. Not really.” He wiped his eyes and smiled, visibly pushing himself through it all.

  I pretended he hadn’t just called Alfred Lord Tennyson an asshole and smiled too. Zoey would have shit if she’d heard that.

  “Oh well. Not long until I see him again, I suppose,” he said with longing in his voice, but his gaze met the window again and his focus slipped away as he drowned his sorrow in exquisite coffee. And I did the same.

  We sat in a perfect sort of silence, him staring out the window, perhaps reliving moments spent here as a boy or just moments spent that would never come to pass again. And I missed everything about my former life.

  It was brief and sweet and when it was over, there was loud Owen to make us forget. Sassy Rozzy to make us laugh. Handsome West to make us all swoon and hold in our stomachs. Shy Zoey who managed to get in a zinger every now and then or would stand up to racists because she had your back.

  We ate pancakes and made coffee with milk, fresh milk. As in fresh and no refrigeration, straight from the cow.

  And eventually, there was farm work.

  We brought in wood to light the fire. We dragged out more wine from the cellar where the best things were kept: imported cookies, candies, cheeses, coffees, and wines. We figured out dinner from the cold storage and pantry which still had a decent amount of food.

  “Your aunt is like Bilbo Baggins before the dwarves arrive,” Zoey said. No one understood except me.

  “Even the cheese.” I smiled at her over the candlelit dinner.

  “Even the cheese.” She glowed as she leaned forward, perhaps a little too glowy from the wine. “Which makes us the dwarves.” She turned to Owen. “And you are Gandalf, but like not wise.”

  She and I burst out laughing as he mocked us and rolled his eyes.

  The night was as near to perfect as people like us, in our situation, could ever expect.

  We ate until we couldn't. We drank until we shouldn't. And we laughed like I thought we wouldn't.

  If I had the time to put this moment to canvas, I would use oil and really capture the glossy sheen of the warmth of the hearth and candles. I’d have it glow with light and ambiance. Like a Nick Sarazan, so bright you felt the heat coming off the fire. We would be abstract and out of focus because the light would be the shining star of the painting. The heat and love and warmth we were creating. Together.

  24

  Highway to hell

  Zoey

  In the morning, I woke, hearing a sound but wasn’t sure where it came from. I sat up in the comfy king-sized bed, trying not to wake Celeste and Rozzy who were passed the heck out. It was a weird bed. You could move and not rock the mattress.

  Slipping from the warm sheets, I crept from the bedroom, tiptoeing until I got to the living room, finding Owen on the sofa sleeping where he’d passed out last night. He had a blanket and the fire was still going, likely Milo’s doing. He was good at taking care of people. But he wasn't out here and no one else was awake.

  Meaning, West was in his room. Alone.

  Like a dastardly villain, I turned around and headed to the bedroom, the one where he was sleeping. It was my bravest moment, and I nearly chickened out a million times in the span of seconds, but I forced my hands around the doorknob and pushed it open with a touch. West turned, standing in his jeans and nothing else, his torso bare and rippled with muscle. My mouth dropped open, empty, no words or recovery or apology.

  I stared at the V going down into his jeans and tried to close my mouth.

  “You’re awake,” he whispered and came to the door, opening it wider and pulling me in. He closed the door carefully and smiled down on me, still holding the blue tee shirt he was about to put on when I rudely interrupted.

  “Am I awake?” I smacked my lips together and wondered if I was. Or if this was another awkward dream.

  “Zoey,” he whispered my name like he needed to. Like he was bursting with the need to say it, but he did it carefully so as not to wake the others. “I was coming to get you. To see if you wanted to come in here. Or go for a walk. Or just be alone. I barely slept, I wanted to come and get you so bad. But I don’t want to push you.” He swallowed and his lips trembled with other things, other thoughts and words to make me swoon more than I was.

  Something happened.

  I reacted.

  The distance closed.

  My hands moved, our mouths connected, my shirt was on the floor and the bed made a sound. His jeans were gone and his body against mine was fire.

  We slid under the covers and everything was a whirlwind until he paused, already between my legs and hovering over me with the sheets over his head like we were in a tent. “I don’t have a condom,” he said, glowing with the morning light that had infiltrated the room.

  I was in a dream or under a spell or high on lotus so I giggled and whispered, “We’re dead in two and a half weeks.”

  “You sure?”

  “Do you love me?” It slipped out.

  “Forever.”

  My answer was his answer and we moved again, friction and skin and gasps and a small measure of discomfort and then none. And he kissed everywhere and we touched everything, making up for lost time. Not time we had lost but time we didn’t have.

  And when the sounds of everyone else moving about the house got noisy, too noisy to avoid, we were breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling, and I was nestled in the crook of his arm. I’d read about it a thousand times, but nothing prepared you for the moment you were lying there, in the crook of the arm of the person you were crazy about. It was bliss.

  But like all good things, it was short-lived.

  West kissed my forehead as someone knocked on the door, speaking softly, “Ready when you are.” It was Milo and I assumed he’d drawn the short straw.

  “Okay, be right out,” West called.

  I leaned in for one more kiss, forcing myself to hold the position long enough that it was burned into my mind.

  We dressed in silence, grinning and glancing at each other.

  When it was time to walk out of the bedroom, he cupped my face once more and stared into my eyes, confessing things he didn’t say.

  I stood on my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his, hoping he understood all the things I wasn’t going to say. I didn’t know how.

  Everyone was in the driveway, grinning and watching us. West walked to the boys’ truck as I headed for the girls’. He winked at me once, his lips toying with a grin.

  Owen’s weren’t toying, he was grinning like an asshole. He blew me a kiss as they climbed into the truck.

  “You guys totally hooked up. Tell the truth,” Rozzy accused, the moment we were in with the doors closed.

  “No,” I protested and gave in at the same time. “We did.”

  “You did.”

  “We did!”

  “Spill!”

  “I don’t know. We had sex. It was—nice.” I didn’t want to talk about this. She was worse than Owen.

  “Nice? Who says nice? Especially with a guy like West? And why didn’t you hook up the night before? You wasted a night. I told you not to drink so much wine.”

  “It wasn’t the wine, it was be—because I was stupid. He wanted to hook up, and I said no because—of the smell.” I barely got the sentence out before I started groaning. “It was before the bath and I told him I smelled bad.” I was still humiliated. We’d had sex and I still wanted to take it back.

  “You told him you smelled?” Rozzy glanced at Celeste. “This girl has no game.”

  “Who’s shocked at that?” I asked her wryly.

  “Not me. Oh well. I’m just glad you finally did it. I need details to get me by. I only have like nine days left to have sex. I’m fucking somebody, and I’ll tell ya what, I don’t care how they
smell.”

  Celeste and I burst out laughing.

  “And you’re lucky you banged that beautiful boy, because I already decided I was not letting him go to waste.”

  “Stop,” I spoke through chuckles. “I honestly don't want to talk about it.”

  “You were a virgin, weren’t you?” Rozzy asked the question, the one I hated. The one thing Owen always made fun of me for, even though I didn’t see the big deal.

  “What?” I stalled.

  “Confess.” Rozzy pointed a finger in my face.

  “Oh my God, Rozzy. Stop.” Celeste tried to help me but Rozzy wasn't giving in.

  “I’ll go first. I’ve had sex with eleven people.” She shrugged like that number was nothing. Though it was nothing. Why did people keep track of sex partners? I never understood that. But I also didn’t understand sex, even though I’d just had it a few times, so I knew I wasn’t ready to go there. “Celeste?” she asked.

  “I don't kiss and tell.” Celeste’s tone rose, mimicking Rozzy’s sassy one.

  “Zoeeeeeeeeey!” Rozzy twirled my ponytail.

  “Fine, yes! God. I’m seventeen, not forty. Of course I was a virgin until this morning. I haven’t had a boyfriend yet. Not a real one. Just a stupid fake—nothing.” I regretted the confession the moment it came out.

  “What do you mean? What’s fake? What?” Rozzy leaned forward from the back seat, her tone turning to charming. “You fake dated someone and they didn’t use you for sex?”

  “Owen.” I eyeballed Celeste, hoping for help but her cheeks flushed and her eyes lowered. She pitied me.

  “You fake dated a gay guy?”

  “Yeah, apparently I dated him so people wouldn’t know he was gay.” I gave it to her. There was no point in denying her this tidbit of juicy gossip now that the cat was out of the bag. She would winkle it out of me until I burst and gave up the rest.

  “Whoa, wait. Did you know Owen was gay?”

  “Of course not.” My voice cracked, mimicking the pain my heart had felt at learning that little tidbit. “He’s the star quarterback and he’s Owen. He’s rude and just not—”

  “Not how you imagined gay people were?” Rozzy laughed. “I guess living in that small Southern town, no one came out, did they? You only saw the gay people on TV and assumed all gay dudes were like that.”

  “No—yes.” I panicked, aware I was sounding prejudiced but not meaning to. “He was the first gay person I ever met. And I’d known him my whole life, lov—loved him my whole life, and I didn’t know.” And there it was. The juicy tea she craved. I was an idiot. “I tried to kiss him, thinking it was weird we never did boyfriend-girlfriend stuff and he told me. He said he loved me like a sister.”

  “No! Owen made you be his beard when you were in love with him?” Rozzy’s tone changed again, getting salty. “That is some shit. Are you being real right now?”

  “It’s nothing,” I lied.

  “And he was in love with West. And West was in love with your dumb ass. Y’all are the weirdest love triangle I have ever seen.” She sat back in her seat, waving a hand at me. “Wait. That’s why you never hooked up with West, even though you clearly liked him. Owen was in love with him. Did Owen know West loved you?”

  “Yeah.” I sighed, hating the way the story had played out.

  “I cannot imagine Owen being such a bitch. That’s some hateful shit.” Zesty Rozzy was a whole other beast. She was fired up. “Who does that to someone that’s supposed to be your best friend? Love you like a sister and then screw you over like that? I don’t think so.”

  “He didn't know.” I protected him.

  “You cannot tell me he didn't know.”

  “He didn't. I never told him how I felt.” I would defend him to the death on this.

  “Bullshit. He’s selfish. I’ll show you.” She grabbed the walkie. “Owen, we have a little debate going on over here. Did you or did you not know Zoey was in love with you the entire time you made her fake date you? Did you know you broke her heart and prevented her and West from hooking up by keeping this all from her? Over!”

  “Rozzy!” Celeste turned and snapped the walkie from her, turning it off.

  My heart leapt and my stomach landed in my bowels, as my breaths left my parted lips in huffs. I made small noises, similar to moans but they were worse.

  The blue truck in front of us skidded to a halt.

  “ZOEY!” Celeste shouted as I swerved around the truck at the same moment Owen opened the door. I just missed him and the door but came to a grinding stop in the middle of the road.

  My entire body was instantly covered in sweat.

  Owen was already at the driver’s door. I didn't dare open it or unlock it.

  “What did she just say?” he shouted so I could hear him clearly through the window.

  “Nothing,” I lied but it was the least convincing thing I’d ever said. I didn't make eye contact with him.

  “Zoey! What is she talking about?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about.” Rozzy unlocked the doors and was out of the truck and in his face, standing on the side rails so she was eye to eye with him when he got to her door. “You are a selfish asshole and before you die, you are gonna make this right. She was in love with you, and you made her date you to protect your being gay? That’s some shit, Owen. You do not beard a girl who loves you. And you don’t beard the girl your best friend loves and prevent them from dating. That’s fucked up, yo.”

  I twitched my head back and forth in denial. This couldn't be happening.

  “Rozzy, you need to stay out of this. Stop it. It’s in the past.” Celeste jumped out of the truck.

  Owen ripped my door open, his eyes were wide and scary, not like he would get angry with me, but he was scared. “Zo?”

  I swallowed everything, the pain and hatred and shock and agony and everything. I couldn't speak I was so full of the things I’d swallowed.

  “Is it true?”

  Holding my breath, I twitched my head back and forth.

  “West, did you know?”

  West said nothing. I couldn't see him but his silence was deafening.

  “Oh fuck.” Owen stepped back, staggering a little. “So you—” His voice trailed and his eyes darted back to the truck behind us. He tilted his head as it all came landing with a thud in his thick skull. “You, him, and me?” He pointed from me to West and back to himself.

  “Don't do this to her,” West spoke cautiously. He came to my door, brushing his hand over my cheek. He smiled, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is now.” He pressed his lips against my cheek and hovered there.

  But it did because they all burst at once. Owen defending. Celeste trying to stop them. Rozzy judging him. West spun back around, trying to keep the peace.

  The world spun a little. I gripped the steering wheel for dear life.

  They got further and further away.

  My brain fuzzed in and out of the memories.

  It was about to go dark when arms wrapped around me. It was Milo. Stan jumped into the back of the truck and kissed my cheek. I blinked out of the daze, letting Milo hug me.

  The next thing I knew, Rozzy was dragging West and Owen to the boys’ truck and doors slammed.

  “You okay?” Milo asked.

  “I could have died without that happening,” I admitted with a tight voice. Tears blocked my airways, they were so large. “It’s literally like two and a half weeks until the end, it didn’t need to come out.”

  “I’m so sorry, Zo,” Celeste said as she wrapped around me. “She gets so crazy sometimes. I swear it comes from a good place.”

  “It’s okay.” I tried to convince us both.

  The blue truck drove past, West driving and Owen and Rozzy fighting over the seat. The expression on West’s face was sheer pain.

  The three of us burst out laughing at the same awkward moment. I think even Stan laughed.

  “I’m so glad I’m not in that truck.�
�� Milo climbed in and closed the doors.

  “Me too,” Celeste agreed.

  “Me three.” I put the truck back into gear and started following them again. Rozzy and Owen spoke the same, animatedly. Their silhouettes were a mess.

  “Poor West,” Milo winced.

  “Yeah, he does not deserve that.”

  “Owen doesn't either.” I quickly dared a peek at Celeste. “He didn't know. You saw his face.”

  “Yeah, he’s crushed.” She nodded along blankly.

  The atmosphere in our truck had gone from Rozzy teasing me mercilessly until I cracked, to Milo and Stan silently chilling in the back. While the cost was high—only all the pride I had left—the peace was nice.

  Celeste fell asleep and eventually the feeling came back into my hands and feet.

  I took deep breaths, trying to stay calm and be grateful we had hours ahead of us. Hours in which Rozzy and Owen would come to terms and calm down. In an odd turn of events, I was less concerned now with Owen knowing. I guessed it was because I was over him. The idea of losing my virginity and having sex with West and doing it some more was haunting me. It gave me chills and flushed me at the same time.

  I tried not to think about it but it wasn’t easy. My mind swam in a sea of emotions and desires.

  Mid daydream versus the nightmare that just happened, I noticed everyone else was sleeping and Rozzy and Owen had stopped waving their arms in the air like crazy people. I hoped West was okay. I grabbed the walkie and whispered nervously, “West?”

  “Yeah?” His voice crackled softly.

  “I regret nothing,” I said with a soft smile.

  “I’m so sorry, Zo. I regret nothing either—” He cut out and the blue truck veered a little.

  Tilting my head to the left, I tried to see what was in front of them to make them do that.

  A rig came into view.

  It was coming toward them.

  It crossed the line and drove into their lane, making West jerk the truck again like he was contemplating what to do if the rig didn’t move back over. I put down the walkie and watched, cautiously.