“Are you still in control?” he said this into my hair, as his hands climbed my thigh. I wrapped myself around him and nodded into his neck. Sure, I was. I was making a conscious decision to go along with this little roll we were having. I desperately wished that he would just shut up and get on with it.
“Stop me,” he said. “If you’re in control, then stop me.”
His hand was at the junction of my thighs now and stopping him was the last thing I wanted to do. I dug my nails into his arms in response. Caleb grabbed at the waistband of my sweatpants and tugged them down. Everything was blurry—everything except what I wanted to happen.
“Who owns you?” he said.
What? Weren’t we past this already?
I opened my eyes and looked up at him and I started to grasp what was happening. Caleb still had all of his clothes on while I was lying on the floor in my panties. I had lost complete control. He was playing with me. I let my body go limp and looked into his face.
“Who owns you?” he repeated more gently, placing his palm over the spot where my heart sat. He was right. He had my heart and every other piece of flesh that was attached to it. He wasn’t being a chauvinist. He was telling me something. I thought about sticking to my first reaction but the adult in me was struggling to get out.
“You.”
He stopped moving and I could feel his back heaving as he breathed. We were cheek to cheek, his arms resting on either side of my body. In one giant movement, he sprang off of me, and landed on his feet like a cat.
“Thank you.” He straightened his collar and then he walked out of the tent and left me—on the floor in nothing but my panties.
I burst into tears.
Chapter Twelve
The Present
“What is it like twenty degree’s outside?” I shiver and rub my arms. It is our last day and a ball of dread has taken up residence in my stomach.
“Try fifty,” he says handing me a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
I frown and climb back inside the tent to pack. I am folding clothes when I hear his voice.
“Olivia, we need to talk,” I peer over my shoulder suspiciously. He is spinning his thumb ring—always a bad sign.
I sigh. Is this about the phone? I wondered.
“Sure.” I am balancing on the very lip of disaster and I can feel our time sliding through my fingers like sand. I remember that creepo, ra**st’s warning outside of the music shop; You should get home before it’s too late. The sky’s red with trouble. Red, red, red…like Leah’s hair.
I follow him outside, my coffee still in hand. He leans on the hood of his car.
“What’s up?” I try to be nonchalant as I sidle up next to him.
“What’s going on here, Olivia? What are we doing?”
“Camping,” I declare, which doesn’t even earn me half of a smile.
What does he want me to say? What’s safe?
“We are…I don’t know Caleb. What do you want me to say?”
He shakes his head. He looks disappointed. Am I supposed to spill my guts? Before I can open my lying mouth, he beats me to it.
“You can’t think of anything to say?” he quizzes. I shake my head. Why do I always lie? For real, it’s like a disease.
“All right then…” He does the unexpected, instead of pushing me for more, he starts packing up our things; sleeping bags, clothes, Pickles. They all get tossed into the car, one by one, two by two, and all I could do is watch with my mouth open. But then what could I say? I want to be with you Caleb. These few days have been the stuff of dreams. I love you more every second I’m with you.
I am in a corner. I reluctantly get into the car and stuff my cold hands under my armpits. Caleb turns the music all the way up and ignores me. I am so mad. I think about things I can say to piss him off but I am too chicken to carry any of them out. The old Caleb had a hot temper, and if this guy had inherited it, I don’t want to find out.
The hills became flatland, as Georgia melts into Florida.
I turn down the volume as we cruise through Tallahassee and turn my body until I am half facing him.
“Caleb…talk to me.”
I see a muscle in his jaw twitch, but other than that he gives me nada.
“Please—talk to me,” I try. This is going to be harder than I expect. New tactic.
“Why are you being so sensitive? I don’t say what you want to hear and now you’re sulking?”
That does it. He takes the exit, swerving to the right at the last minute. I hear a grunt from Pickles as she’s thrown across the backseat.
We are in the middle of nowhere and there is only trees and road ahead of us. Caleb zooms into the gates of what looks like a park. There are only three parking spaces and they are all deserted. He pulls into one and jerks on the brake. This place is really creepy. I fidget nervously and look at his face.
“What are we doing?” he asks again.
“I…” I look out of the window desperate for an escape. He’s trying to get me to talk about my feelings, something I can’t do with all of the lying going on. Despite my fear of the dark, I jump out of the car.
“Where are you going?” he demands, opening his door and following suit. Before I have the door shut, he walks around to where I am and corners me.
I try to push past him but he presses me against the door with his body and puts both hands on either side of my head. We are nose to nose, as he seethes at me.
“What. Are. We. Doing?” he demands.