The Feel of Water

Twenty - Whatever We Want

"So, Dani, how's school been?"

I stare down at my dinner plate, thinking back to earlier when Sean stole me away at lunch, took me to an empty classroom and kissed me against the wall. I press my legs together and chew on my lip just reimagining every sensation, every inch of his touch. When the bell rang, he pulled away but couldn't find it in himself to let me go. He stood there, his arms caging me in as he gazed into my eyes like a starving lion. All I could do was look up at him. His eyes glazed over my swollen lips and flushed face, ready to take a bite.

I wish he ignored the bell. I wish he continued his addictive assault on my mouth and neck, but he's mindful of my attendance record, I suppose.

"It's been good," I chirp then stab a forkful of food.

Emilie stirs bedside me at the dinner table. "How about Sean Donovan? You still talking to him?"

"Yeah. A bit. We're friends."

"Friends? Are you sure?" She presses.

"Oh, Emilie, let the girl live," Tammy says. "It's about time she puts herself out there. And I saw that boy through the blinds. He's a cute one. She's just like her Auntie, pulling the pretty ones."

"Yeah," Emile mutters under her breath, "pretty and problematic."

Tammy eyes her.

"He's a nice guy. Nice to me, at least," I say. "There's nothing to worry about, Emilie."

"I'm just saying, the women in this family have a history of picking bad guys. Mom was the only one to get it right."

That I can agree with. Dad always went above and beyond for Mom. Flowers and chocolates on Valentine's Day. Breakfast in bed on Mother's Day. Special surprises and couples vacations, sweet love letters and kisses goodbye. Every morning before he left for work, before mom drove us to school, he would look into her eyes, say 'I love you,' then kiss her. He always made sure she felt not only beautiful but appreciated. He was the perfect husband. He was perfect.

I swallow, peering to his urn across the room.

Dust. Everything he was-his skin, hair, smile, voice-now nothing but dust.

"Do you girls mind cleaning up? I'm going to run to the gas station."

I look to Tammy and say, "I thought you quit."

Her mouth forms into a straight line. "Gum, Dani. Nicotine gum. It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

After Emily and I do the dishes, I retire to my bedroom. I turn on my desk lamp and crash onto my bed with my Dad's jacket on.

Just when I start to relax, an abrupt knocking sounds on my window, causing me to spring up. My eyes shoot to the glass and I see Becca's cheek pressed to it, her knuckles continuing a lazy knock every few seconds. "What the hell," I breathe and rush to the window, immediately opening it up.

"Um. Hey," she says, her voice trembling. "Can I come in?"

"Becca what are you doing? Have you been drinking?"

She lifts up a half-drunken bottle of tequila and my eyes widen. I help her through my window, eventually getting her through and assisting her to my bed. "Christ, did you drink all of that? What happened?"

She sits on the edge but falls onto her back. I take the bottle and place it on my nightstand. "My mom is a bitch," she mumbles. "So I uh-I stole her tequila and wandered the streets and I came here. I just, I can't be around her right now."

"What did she do?"

Becca's eyes gaze off. "Typical bullshit with Taylor. All she does is spend time with him. She doesn't even talk to me anymore. I-I'm her daughter, but she only cares about her stupid fiancé. And when I try to talk to her, when I try to fix our relationship, she blames it on me and says I'm never around. She says I'm always with you and Allison and Alisha. Like-what? She's the one constantly running off on stupid vacations with Taylor, not even telling me until they're walking out the door. I just hate him. I want to kill him. I want to cut the brakes of his dumb little convertible."