TROUVAILLE ... l.danes (REWRITE)

chapter forty-five; the past

HE CAN'T WAIT FOR TOMORROW

nineteen-eighty-four

THIS TIME next year, Lucas will have to have his life figured out.

But, right now, the summer before senior year, it is almost like his whole life hangs languidly in front of him and he does not need to reach out to touch him. It will find him at some point. It will drape around him like a cape he cannot shed. It will strangle him until his lips turn blue and he is another walking corporate corpse. But, for now, he can lay back on the bench next to Jeff, and pretend the summer sun is sitting right in the middle of his chest, pumping the blood around his body until he glows golden.

Jeff slurps a cherry-flavored slurpee loudly.

Lucas sits up, sweat drip, drip, dripping down the back of his neck, and pushes his sunglasses up his face to glare at his best friend. "Can you slurp quieter? I'm tryna relax here."

"I'm tryna drink here," Jeff hurtles back, just as quick. "Aren't you meant to be running, anyway?" They both look out towards the field next to them. Lucas' running coach is shouting at the rest of his teammates, yelling about speeding up, not that fast, blah blah blah. They're practicing the relay race. In this heat. Lucas is grateful he only hurdles and gets to lay down for a moment.

"Give me peace."

He shoves his sunglasses back into place and falls back down onto the bench. It is already slick with his sweat, soaking into the wood that needs a good coat of paint. His vest acts as a pillow and he lets the sun rays press gentle kisses against the bare skin of his chest. Most of the girls who swarm the field in order to catch a date for the night have tried talking to him already. He's too warm to really listen to them.

This summer has been his favorite so far. Running two or three times a week, jumping, letting the sweat soak right through him so he feels like a completely new person by the time he gets home and sinks beneath the cold bath water. Jeff comes to most practices with him, when he's not cutting grass for his neighbors to make some more money. And they drink slurpees. And Jeff gets high when Coach isn't watching. When Lucas isn't running, though, they sit with their feet in the lake, popsicles in hand, pretending life doesn't exist as the lake gently laps at their toes and bird song flutters gently in the wind.

Some days, when the town gets too stifling, the same faces day-in-day-out, the same stores, the same food, they drive. They drive until one of them shouts stop. And then, they walk through a new town. See new faces, explore new stores, eat new food. They buy CD's they'll spend all night listening to, and use Liz's polaroid – that she never uses anyway – to take photos in front of graffiti they think is funny, and they flirt with waitresses they'll never see again. One waitress, called Rachel with curly hair, in some small town he can't remember the name of had asked to take their picture while they'd been having a faster eater competition. They'd both grinned with food in their teeth and she'd laughed – prettily – and told them not to eat too fast in case they choked.

This summer he felt alive.

"Hi," Jeff greets whoever has just sat down on the bleachers, half-raising his hand so that some cherry slurpee leaks down his wrist. He's quick to lick it off and grin up at the person.

"Hiya Jeff."

Lucas has to stop himself from sitting up quickly.

He tugs his sunglasses off and turns his head to find Shelley sitting only a few rows behind them. She's brought a blanket to sit on and has her feet up on the bench in front of her. Her blonde hair is in two braids swinging behind her back, but a few strands have come loose in front and swing in front of her face as she pulls her latest book out of her purse.

"You came all the way here to watch me run, huh Juliet? Like seeing me all sweaty?"

Shelley barely pulls her sunglasses down to the end of her nose to get a good look at him. She rolls her eyes and pushes them right back into place, letting shadowed clouds block the sun from view.

"As if. Olive's helping her dad coach the girl's soccer team. I'm just here to wait for her."

Olive and Shelley have spent all summer together, too, from what Lucas has seen. When Olive isn't helping her dad coach, she's in the bookstore with Shelley, both of them sitting behind the desk, talking quietly with their heads bent low together, laughing loudly until they almost fall out of their chairs. Sometimes they paint their nails there, do those quizzes in magazines that tell you which member of New Kids on the Block member you most belong with, listen to one of their walkman's to pass the time. Lucas only knows because, some days, he and Jeff go in to look at comics and stay for a while, sitting between the bookshelves, trying to get out of the long, summer heat. When Shelley isn't working, she's most likely here with Olive, bringing her bottles of water or popsicles to share with the soccer team, reading and letting her sun tan while she does.

When they're both free, sometimes they take to the lake. Sometimes Lucas and Jeff see them there and they forget they're meant to hate each other. They splash each other and play fight on each other's shoulders and they sit on the bridge with towels wrapped around their dripping bodies and laugh. They laugh so hard they forget where they are. When the girls aren't at the lake, Lucas has no idea where they are.

He wishes he did.

He wishes he could have spent the entire summer with them.

"Anyway. Doesn't look like you're running. Looks like you're sleeping."

Shelley turns the page in her book and leans back, barely looking at him over the edge of her novel.

"I'm relaxing."

She scoffs and he can imagine her rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. He rolls his too, pushes his sunglasses back on, and lets himself relax. He just has to pretend she isn't even there, even though he can hear the turning of her pages. He just has to ignore the terrible thump of his heart, the constant beat speeding up, making him sweatier. It almost feels like when he runs, when it runs too, and they are both panting at the end of the race. His lungs always burn and his throat aches, but, his heart speeds up and slows down just as he does and he can put his hand on it and feel completely at ease even if the rest of him is fucked up.

His heart is running too fast and it's making him woozy.

"You girls at the lake tomorrow?" Jeff asks, leaning back on the bench to talk to Shelley.

She hums. "Yeah. Both of us are off and it's just too warm to really do anything. We were gonna go shopping but trying on clothes is just too much effort. So, lake it is."

"Cool. We'll bring the popsicles?"

Shelley laughs and Lucas' heart almost bursts through the skin.

He can't wait for tomorrow. His Coach calls him up to run. All the hurdlers are to race, to see who has the best time, who needs more training. He crouches and tries to listen over the din of his heartbeat for the gun. He can't wait for tomorrow. The lake water cool against his skin. Her grin as she climbs onto his shoulders. The gun goes off and he runs. He doesn't think about it, just shoots off and all around him, so do the others. He thinks he might be first. He thinks he might be last. He can't wait for tomorrow. Her laughter as she falls back into the water, grappling at him and blaming him for losing even though they're all laughing. Her hand on his skin as she forgets how to float for a second and grabs onto the first thing she can reach. He leaps. Over and over. His lungs burn and sweat pushes his hair out of his face. He runs so fast the muscles in his calves ache even more than usual. He'll need a cold bath tonight. He can't wait for tomorrow.

He wins. Of course. And some girls who had been watching come racing over to talk to him. They pour compliments over him like sunshine and he waves them off, barely able to hear over the rush in his hears. His heart has yet to cool down. He scans the field over the crowd of girls and catches sight of Shelley and Olive leaving, their arms linked as they start to disappear from view.

He can't wait for tomorrow.