It’s obviously ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter. I knead my fingers into her muscles and it’s easy to say, “Never Sydney.” I wait for her to meet my eyes again. “Promise.”
I wish she didn’t look so relieved. I wish she wasn’t sitting here thinking of what this isn’t. I wish I could tell her that she’s my girl and have that mean something beyond these fleeting secret meetings.
But I can’t.
Minutes later, I wait at the bottom of the ladder. If I can’t be anything more to her than this, then at least I can catch her if she falls.
21
Vandy
So this is what a walk of shame feels like.
Not that I feel shame, because I feel a lot of things—good, satisfied, happy, and kind of boneless—but shame isn’t among them.
Nevertheless, having to collect myself and walk back down to the house in broad daylight without anyone noticing is definitely a new experience to me. So is the fact my panties are soaked.
God, that was epic.
Sure, it was just a dry-hump, but it was my first dry-hump and it was with Reynolds McAllister, of all people. Talk about starting from the top. And it wasn’t done out of some convoluted situation, or after too many shots, or with any hint of regret. Reyn, I’ve realized, actually likes me. I knew it when we were together in my room last night, and I definitely knew it just now, watching his face flush with desire, his jaw going slack as he came beneath me. I’d seen that look before when he pleasured himself in his room, but this was different. Just for me. I’m the one who made him fall apart. I did that.
No, I don’t feel shame. I feel a little proud, though.
He left the treehouse first, face twisted in a grimace, telling me he had to go change. He didn’t take the path down the hill, instead taking the long way around to his house by cutting through another neighbor’s yard. I spend the walk down the hill smoothing my hair and making sure my skirt is aligned. I’m at the edge of the driveway when I see Jerry’s blinking yellow lights. As I get closer, I realize that the person standing spread-eagle, palms flat against the top of the cart, is none other than Reyn.
What the hell?
I storm across the yard. They must both hear the scrape-pull of my steps at the same time, because they look over in tandem. Reyn’s expression goes from annoyed to something darker, that storm cloud passing over his sharp features.
Jerry’s shoulders ease when he sees me, obviously unconcerned about my presence. “Nothing to worry about Miss Hall, just caught this boy trespassing.”
“Trespassing?” I say, not trying to keep the incredulousness out of my voice. “What are you talking about?”
“I caught him red-handed, climbing the Reed’s fence.” He focuses back on Reyn, hand shoving his head down. “Empty your pockets, boy.” I hate how he says that, like Reyn is just some juvenile scumbag. Like he’s less. I hate even more the way Reyn just takes it. He trains his eyes on the hood of the cart and just stands there, scowling.
He looks embarrassed.
“He wasn’t trespassing,” I hotly insist, hoping I can put him off. God only knows what Reyn has in his pockets. Possibly something from my house. “He was with me.”
Reyn’s eyes shoot up to mine, head shaking slightly.
“With you?” Jerry chuckles. “I doubt that a sweet girl like you would spend time with a punk like him.”
A streak of fur races across the front yard. “He—he was helping me find my cat.”
Jerry’s eyes narrow. “Your cat.”
“Yes.” My heart hammers. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I guess because Reyn is on the line and Jerry has such a hard-on for busting him. He always has, ever since we were kids, but these days it’s worse. Maybe it’s the higher stakes. Maybe it’s that Reyn is technically a legal adult now, and Jerry is free to handle him like that, rough him up. It makes me hot and angry. “Firefly got out during our football party and Reynolds was helping me find him.”
“And you thought it was okay to go into the Reed’s yard to search for a cat?” His words are skeptical, but I can see the deflation in his eyes. He knows his opportunity to bust Reyn is slipping right through his fingers.
Reyn gives a tight shrug. “Cats don’t understand the laws of property lines.”
I add, “Why don’t I just go and give Mrs. Reed a chat? She’ll tell you it’s fine.” They both know I’m right. No one around here would be anything less than perfectly hospitable and courteous to Vandy Hall.
Jerry assesses the two of us. He, like everyone else around here, knows all about our history and the accident. Because of that, he probably thinks he knows what we are to one another. After all, why would Vandy Hall falsely vouch for the boy who hurt her so terribly? She wouldn’t. I can tell that’s what he decides. “Fine. If Miss Hall says you were helping her, then I believe it.” He grabs Reyn by the shoulder and lurches him back, away from the cart. I can tell from the way Reyn holds himself that the motion is rough and jarring. A pathetic attempt at intimidation. “But you just stay on your own property from now on, is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Reyn grinds out, meeting Jerry’s gaze directly.