Page 23 of The Tomorrows After You
Jeremy Blackwell.
Where Riot had been the All-American football hero, Jeremy, a year older than me, had been the class do-gooder; student body president for two years running, organizing recycling drives and the like.
He had a crush on me on and off throughout high school. I frequently interviewed him for his various community efforts for my broadcast journalism classes. He was cute and nice, but I found him incredibly dull. If I was being honest, I found all the volunteer stuff a little phony. It was almost too much, but hewasPastor Blackwell’s son. I guess the Good Boy thing was in his blood.
After a barrage of asking, I let him take me to his senior prom. Later that night, the entire group spent the night at his parent’s camp on the other side of the lake. I hadn’t wanted to sleep with him that night. Or any night, really. But I had gotten drunk and when he virtually confessed his undying love for me, it had struck a chord. Either way, it was easier to go along with it than to say no and have it be awkward the rest of the night. When he went to college, I hadn’t even said goodbyeto him.
And now here he was, like a ghost of my past, clad in shiny new sneakers, sucking on an iced coffee that had way too much cream in it. He lifted his sunglasses to his head, stopping about six inches too close to me. I took a step back, brushing against Riot’s arm. He didn't waver and I was surprised to acknowledge that his presence provided something akin to comfort.
“Jeremy. Been a long time...”I pressed my lips together with a thin smile. Riot’s eyes moved between us.
“Yeah, no kidding.”He smiled and dragged his eyes over me, sucking up the last bits of the iced coffee. The way it slurped up the straw made me cringe.“What are you doing here?”
I took a breath and shrugged.“Oh, just… volunteering. What about you? What brings you to the Center?”I stole a glance at Riot, worried he might blow my cover, but he only stood taller, his eyes boring holes into Jeremy’s head.
Jeremy’s eyes danced between the two of us.“Dad asked me to drop off a check. Monthly donation of some sorts.”He gestured to an envelope in his hand before taking another step closer to me. I leaned backward, his coffee breath assaulting my face. “You know, I asked you to volunteer with mehundredsof times in high school and you neveroncejoined me.” He flashed a million-dollar smile, his white teeth perfect and straight. He was like a fish out of water in this room filled with people the town had chosen to forget.
“Yeah,”I forced a laugh.“I wasn’t much for volunteerism, was I?”
He tilted his head and gave me a smug grin. He reached out and put a hand on my elbow.“Most ambitious people aren’t.”He gave me a wink and I could almost hear Riot snort under his breath. Jeremy looked up as if just noticing him standing there.“Oh, hey, man…”he said, as if talking to a child.
“Jeremy.”Riot nodded his head.
“Good to see you, Riot. Looks like you’re doing well here. Katie mentioned the yard work wasn’t your speed,”he crooned. Riot didn’t reply or look up. Jeremy widened his eyes at me as if saying,What’s his problem?“Anyway… what are you doing back here? I never thought I’d see the day that the New York-famous Nicolette Parker would return to our little hamlet.”
Ugh, I wanted to hit him. I hadn’t lived in New York for almost a decade now.
“I’m just here for a few weeks.”I tried to turn and help Riot with the cleaning, but it was already clear.
“Well, I’d love to catch up. What do you say I take you out to breakfast?”My stomach growled again, and I thought about the diner and a giant pile of steaming hot frittata. I clutched my gut to mask the empty mumbling.“Looks like things are winding down here. I’m sure Riot wouldn’t mind if I stole you away a little early. Right, Riot?”
At the same time Jeremy said his name, he tossed the empty iced coffee cup into the garbage bin Riot was still holding. It landed on the bottom with a noisyplunk,sending flecks of watery ice droplets up his forearm.
Riot froze. His knuckles whitened with the grip on the garbage can. I held my breath, expecting a hideous reaction from the burly man. But, to my surprise, he blinked and stood taller, not meeting my gaze. He started to walk back into the kitchen.
“I don’t care what you do with her,”he tossed over his shoulder. My throat burned with the sting of his words.
What an asshole.I glared after him before returning my attention to Jeremy’s hopeful expression.
“Sorry, Jeremy, but I had a big breakfast before I got here this morning.”His shoulders slumped and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Riot’s head turn toward us. My face burned with the indignity of him knowing I was lying about such a basic necessity as breakfast.
“Another time then.”It should have been a question, but it wasn’t, almost like my interest should be inherent. I didn’t have the energy to fight him.
I nodded once.“Sure, I have to start washing dishes. Good to see you.”
As I picked up the empty egg tray, I brushed past him and got a whiff of his cologne.God, he even smelled the same.I had a flash of his young,teenage face on top of me and I let a disgusted shiver roil my empty stomach.
He would hold me to the breakfast. Why had I said“sure”? I didn’t want to spend time with him. My heart fell, realizing I had said“sure”for the same reason I had slept with him twelve years ago. It was easier to agree so that he’d go away.
Visceral disappointment made my arms feel thick. I had only been back in Godot a few days and already the weight of my hometown’s expectations was eroding the self-confident shield I’d worked so hard to construct, reverting me to the girl who would do anything to just get out as quickly and peacefully as possible.
Riot was washing dishes when I approached. I scraped the last bits of eggs into the garbage with a little too much aggression. His head tilted in my direction.
“I can take care of this if you want to go to breakfast with him.”His voice was unnaturally even. He didn’t look me in the eye as he reached over and took the tray from my hands. I once again caught a whiff of his skin. He moved back to washing dishes, the steam rising to create a shiny layer of dampness over his ropy forearms.
I don’t care what you do with her.Why had that stung so much?
I stayed silent, unwilling to dignify his response. The image of Jeremy, slurping up the iced coffee, was fresh in my mind. That awful grating noise coming from his lips, sucking on that plastic straw. I remembered how vehemently he had pushed those lips against me, mistaking his eagerness for passion.
