Kicking Eternity (24 page)

Cal squeezed Raine’s hand where it lay on the sofa between them.

“I’m going to Africa to teach orphans the Bible.”

Dad’s brows lifted a fraction. And M
om
fumbled and nearly dumped a plate of brownies into Raine’s lap. He kept the smile from his face. What had M
om
expect
ed
, a
surfer
girl who
went by the name of Thrasher
?

Mom
’s face broke into a smile like she’d been saved for the second time.

He clunked
his feet on the coffee table
beside
a stack of M
om
’s
Dance Magazines
and slid his arm around Raine. He listened to M
om
and Dad pull out
the pieces of
Raine’s story like magicians’ scarves, each more beautiful than the last.

Raine got up to help
Mom
clear away the dishes.

“So, Cal, you quit running?” Dad’s voice knifed through his euphoria.

Running from God, Dad meant. He never should have let Raine get out of the room. He sat up, his
parents
’ expectations jumping on his back like a camp kid clamoring for a piggyback. M
om
was all about how things looked on the outside. But he’d forgotten Dad’s laser beam into his soul.

“We’ve been talking.”

“You and Raine?” Dad wasn’t going to let him fudge on this one.

“Me and God.”

“Oh?”

He threw Dad a bone. “Scriptures I learned as a kid are coming back.” 
Let’s hope that satisfies him.
He didn’t want his fledgling faith dissected, especially in front of Raine. He could hear the water running in the kitchen and
snipets of
Raine and M
om’s conversation.

Dad rubbed his chin. “Is this ‘talking’ to please Raine?”

So much for not getting dissected. “I’m going in the direction you want me to go. Leave it at that.”

“Remember Jonah.”

How could he forget? Dad had it in his head he was running from God’s “call” like Jonah had. It was always like this. No matter what spiritual strides he took, they were never enough. What was the point in moving toward God when it only meant amping up the pressure? 

Raine and
Mom
walked back into the room, and he let his breath out. “We have to get back to camp.” He stood.

Mom
’s eyes shot to his.

Not tonight.
Dad had taken his shots at him, and he wasn’t in the mood for
Mom
’s. He didn’t need her harping about his standby job at Stoney’s Tattoo, his hair and his church attendance.

Raine’s opinion was the one he had to worry about.

Cal shook his father’s hand, focusing on the crease at the bridge of his nose instead of the love and longing in his eyes.
Mom
handed him a Chinet plate of brownies covered in aluminum foil. He kissed her cheek.

As they got into the car, Raine nailed him with a look. “What’s wrong?”

Cal looked away. “Talk to me about Africa.”

#

Raine woke up to scratching on the screen. Aly moved on the bunk overhead.

“Al.” It was a whisper.

Raine could picture Aly up on one elbow looking out the screen at whoever it was. Aly slid down from the top bunk.

It wasn’t any of her business who Aly was meeting—she looked at the clock, moving only her eyes—at two thirteen a.m. Aly stooped to pick up her shoes and slipped out the door. Raine listened to Aly’s bare feet limp across the cabin and out onto the porch.

Raine had only heard one whispered syllable, but “Al” was Cal’s pet name for Aly. Someone else could call her that…
.

Cal had picked her brain about Africa tonight. There was no way he was slinking out with Aly. Besides, he knew she and Aly were roommates. Her mind drifted toward sleep.

Is he the one, Lord?
Cal wasn’t the skeptic he
was when
she met him. He came to campfire every night now, and the expression on his face when he sang couldn’t be faked. Something was connecting between Cal and God. She rolled over and squeezed her eyes shut.

She threw back her quilt. The clock glowed two forty three, and she wasn’t asleep. She tugged on her sweatshirt jacket. She’d find out for herself who Aly was meeting. Mom always said she was too nosey for her own good.

#

Drew pulled his pillow over his head fighting to stay in the dream, but it was no use. He stared at the underside of Keenan’s bed in the glow from his clock. It was the same dream he kept having—Rainey asleep in his arms under the mosquito netting, some filmy something between them. He lay back on his pillow trying not to disturb Keenan. What was he going to do?

It was one thing to be noble when you were wide awake, but surely God didn’t hold him responsible for what he dreamed.

He’d messaged Sam last night. All he wanted was for her to do what she did so well—blow him off.
God, please.
And for Cal to take himself off the playing field. Rainey called her relationship with Cal a mess, but she left in his car after campfire last night.

The desire to kiss Rainey again was nearly overwhelming. Big mistake, kissing her the first time.

#

Aly yawned loudly. Cal motioned for her to keep quiet. She’d left her crutches in the cabin, and had to clutch Cal’s arm while she limped across the athletic field. Her flip-flops flung droplets of dew against her bare legs. She stopped and rubbed her arms wishing she’d been awake enough to grab a jacket.

Finally, they made it onto the laundry porch.

Cal squatted against the wooden siding and looked up at her. “Thanks for coming.”

She watched the crown of his head as he bent over. She’d always liked the golden color, the waves. Then, she saw the baggie of pot and the rolling papers.

And she’d thought… never mind. She should have guessed what he had on his mind. She sat down and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I’m cold.” She picked the grass off her feet and flicked the pieces off the edge of the porch.

Cal looked her over as he lit a match and sucked air through the cigarette until the tip glowed. He passed the joint to her, holding his breath. The smoke came out with his words. “You could have worn a little more clothing.” One brow quirked, and she knew Cal had recorded exactly what she had or didn’t have on. But it wasn’t the kind of look that said he was going to do anything about it.

Cal’s arm dropped around her shoulders and she scooted against his side. They sat in the quiet
,
passing the joint back and forth. If she closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of his arm and his chest—she could pretend he cared.

But it was no use. Cal had been her best shot at loving and being loved, and she’d been too busy polluting her life with guys who didn’t love her to notice. When she looked over her shoulder, all she could see was wreckage, like the remains of a demolition derby—broken relationships that had to be her fault.

She used to “sleep over” in Kallie’s room when Kallie was in high school and she was in grade school. She tried so hard to stay awake, but she always ended up falling asleep in the middle of their talks. But Kallie got religion, then she got married, then she had Jillian. Each one, a step away from Aly, religion being the flying first leap.

Daddy didn’t love her. She sent him cards every year on her birthday to remind him he had a daughter. No response. None. At least she still got along with Mom.

She felt like she was swinging on the backyard swing someone left at the
Magnolia
St
reet
house. She
hung
upside down and imagin
ed
the trees were all growing from the sky. She wanted to feel this way all the time. Free. Clean. Next time she
went home
, she
would
swing again.

Cal dropped the small butt on the porch and ground it out with the heel of his sandal.

Aly turned her chin toward Cal and tried to look at him, but he was too close. “You drug me out in the middle of the night, why?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Pressure. Dad expects a spiritual mini-me. Raine wants the same. And Africa. I’m paddling as hard as I can, and I can’t stand up and surf…
.
Don’t know if I ever will.”

“I never tried to meet Kallie’s expectations…”
Her
thoughts felt
fuzzy, disjointed. What was it that she wanted to tell Cal?
Her mind tripped backward. F
acts flew at her in no particular order
—
Carina’s dark, intelligent eyes, the olive and rose of her skin as she lay facing Gar, her head propped on an elbow
—and tumbled out to Cal
. Moonlight
had
splashed across Gar’s muscular
body
, the pink and green plaid sleeping bag. Lumps of clothing dotted the
gym
planking like discarded paint rags. Hanging in the air was the smell of old sweat and rotting garbage from the dumpster behind the gym. And sex.

“I felt like I should look away, slink back down the gym steps before they saw me. But I got mad.”

“No kidding.”
Cal peered down at her
, his eyes round with surprise.

She leaned back against Cal’s arm, closed her eyes, and went on with the story.

“Carina.” The girl’s head
had
jerked up. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Carina sat up, pulling her knees in front of her, trying to cover herself. A moonbeam caught the warring of shock and guilt on her face like a black and white photograph.

Gar sat up and turned toward her, making no attempt to hide his nakedness. One thing she knew about Gar, he was more proud of his body than anything else in life.

She ignored him, smiling slightly at Carina. “You noticed how the steroids missed one of his, uh, appendages,” she directed her gaze at Gar’s body part—in case he didn’t understand the word ‘appendage’—and back at Carina.

Gar
’s face
had
mottled with anger
as he
shifted his offending body part out of her sight.

Cal’s chest rumbled with
mirth
before it bubbled out of his throat
and dulled the ache of betrayal under her ribs
.
“I can’t believe you
insulted his manhood like that
.”
He laughed again, a
contagious
belly laugh.

A tiny giggle fizzed through her like a Fourth of July sparkler.
It felt so good to laugh. When w
as the last time she’d laughed?

They
fed off each other until Cal gripped his stomach, and she rocked back and forth, a snort slipping out.
She smeared the tears into her face with her hands. She could feel
Cal’s
body quiver with laughter he was trying to suppress.

#

Raine buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket. She was crazy for looking for Aly at this hour, all because she thought Cal might have been the one who woke her up. She stood in front of the bleachers not sure where to go. The athletic field lights had been doused by the night watch. Only yellow bulbs glowed around camp.

What if she found Aly? What excuse would she have for following her? What if Aly was doing something she didn’t want to see? She should go back and climb into her bed.

Was that laughter coming from the far side of camp? She stepped onto the dew-slicked grass of the athletic field. She heard more sounds. Though it was darker on the field, she felt safer somehow—no bushes and buildings to harbor hidden dangers. Like Eddie.

She moved toward the laundry, the laughter gradually becoming distinguishable as male and female. On the edges of her shoes, she crept to the back of the laundry. 

She peered around the corner of the laundry at the porch. 

Aly, who wore only a baggy nightshirt and Umbro soccer shorts—the same thing she wore to bed every night—was tucked under Cal’s arm. They
laughed
hysterically. As she watched from the shadows, their laughter died down to an intermittent giggle from Aly.

While she debated what to do, Cal took his arm from around Aly and lit a joint. She watched him fill his lungs, and suddenly it could have been Eddie. The sickly sweet scent drifted her way.

She walked up the steps onto the porch. The smoke burst out of Cal’s mouth.

Aly pulled away from Cal. “It’s not what it looks like. I was cold—” A nervous twitter came out.