Page 58 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
“God, no. No. We didn’t.” I cry out a plea to God.
Austin looks at me. I watch him swallow and I know that it did happen. And he doesn't seem the least bit sorry. Not the leastbit upset over it. I yank my pants on, and pull my shirt over my head. Tears stream down my face as I pull on my boots and drop off the tailgate. His hands grab my arm as I try to run.
“Raegan…” He starts, but never finishes.
I take my free arm and bash my fist against his chest. “Why, Austin? Why?”
“I thought. You… You didn’t stop. I just…” His eyes tilt with just an ounce of sadness. And I see it. He doesn’t feel the shame and the guilt like I do. He isn’t crushed. Not like I am.
With all the strength I can muster, I yank my arm away from him, falling to my knees in the process. I pick myself up and do the only thing I can think to do.
I run.
Austin
“Raegan!” I yell after her. I didn’t think it would happen. And once it did happen, I didn’t think she’d react the way she did. I didn’t know what to say when she started to cry. I was still on a high. Unable to catch my breath. I thought we both wanted it. Neither of us stopped, and I… just assumed.
“Raegan!” But she doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn to look back at me. I clench my fists. I would punch something, but I need my hands for baseball. Stupid baseball.
I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t. But I don’t regret it. It was everything I dreamed it would be. It was amazing. A connection, a closeness unlike anything I’ve ever felt with her. I love her even more now than I did earlier when I told her I wasinlove with her.
And I want it again.
Am I a hypocrite? Is it wrong that I enjoyed it? I know it’s wrong that we did it without being married, I know that… But I clearly don’t feel the same remorse and regret that she feels.
“Am I a bad guy?” I ask God, raising my face toward heaven. “Am I a bad guy?” I yell the words this time. I hurt her. I hurt the woman I love. I didn’t mean to hurt her. But, dang it, it was amazing. And I won’t take it back. So, now I’m a bad guy right? I’m just like him.
I sit here, shirtless, on the tailgate of my truck, watching as the light of the moon takes over the last rays of sunshine.
Sunshine. My Rae of sunshine.
I have to leave in the morning. I don’t have time to chase her. I don’t want to face her parents. But I don’t want to leave with this awkwardness between us.
What would I even say? “I love you, Rae. And I’ve loved every minute we’ve spent together. I’ll never regret a single moment we’ve had, especially not something this earth-shattering.”
Yeah, that’ll end this relationship real fast. And I don’t want it to end. I want Raegan to be mine forever. But I don’t know how to fix this.
I can’t bring myself to leave yet. I don’t want to pack my bags. But I don’t want to sit here and wallow in self pity. We made our choice. We could have stopped. I should have stopped us. We had our boundaries, we knew what was and wasn’t acceptable. But we did it anyway. Not for a second do I believe that either of us forced the other person to do it. This was completely mutual.
The moon glitters through the branches of Raegan's tree and a beam falls across my hands, braced beside my thighs on the tailgate. I look down at my left hand, if there was a ring, she’d still be here. She’d be happy. She’d still love me.
“Why God? Why did You let it happen?” I’m tempted to smack the heel of my hand down on the tailgate. But my hands are my life, and I won’t destroy my career in the heat of the moment. I likely destroyed this relationship in the heat of the moment. Possibly even my relationship with God.
A lump forms in my throat. I failed her. I failed God. I failed Coach. Failed everyone. Just like my dad. I’m just like him. Every marriage comes with the chance of divorce, every relationship comes with the chance of being ruined. And I’m a screw up. Just like Dad.
My chest heaves and sobs tear from me. Deep. Guttural. I fall from the tailgate, landing on my knees in the dirt. My palms and forehead make contact with the ground.
“I’m sorry Rae. I’m just my father’s son.” I gasp the words. My stomach churns and my chest is tight, as if someone is reaching in and ripping my heart out.
She didn’t say we were done, but… I feel hopeless. Lost. Alone.
The tears finally stop, and the heaving of my chest settles down, nearly to its normal rhythm.
I push myself up, till my hands are braced on my thighs. The grief is over. I’ve come to terms with what we did. With what I destroyed. I’m angry. Angry at God for letting it happen.
“Do you not care about us, God?”
My stomach twists and I vomit in the grass next to me. I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and stand up. I need to leave. But I can’t go home with all these emotions churning inside of me. Ineedto punch something, kick something, hit something.
