Our Last Time: A Novel (6 page)

She smiled at that comment, which made everything okay for now. I still wanted to punch whoever caused her to frown, though.

“Can we watch TV if we finish it all real fast?”
“Whatever you want before bedtime, baby. I can make it happen.”

I saw her grinning through the mirror as I went to park across from our apartment.

“Let’s hurry, mommy!”

She was wiggling in her seat as I clicked the car off.

We unbuckled our seatbelts in unison, and counted to three together.

“Go!” we shouted, before hopping out of the car. We ran towards our front door, and Annette was dragging her backpack behind her. My workbag I had in a twist over my shoulder. I saw Caitlyn’s eyes go wide from atop of the balcony as she quickly outted her cigarette. She hadn’t wanted to smoke in front of Annette, of course, but she also hadn’t wanted me to cuss at her because of it.

Annette was patting my butt for me to hurry up with unlocking the door, and I thought it was the cutest thing. She was short for her age.

I moved out of her way once the door was open, and she scurried up the stairs in front of me.

“Mommy is going to help me with my homework,” I heard Annette tell Caitlyn.

I was standing in the living room, now, and Caitlyn was spraying herself with that toxic perfume of hers. I silently allowed it, because that smelt better than smoke. I also hadn’t wanted Annette to know what smoke smelt like.

“Is that so?” Caitlyn smiled at Annette. She suddenly tipped her chin towards me. “I’ll be in my room, Willow. I’m going to video chat with Brian. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your mother-daughter bond with my relationship issues.”

I nodded, and then placed my workbag next to the couch where I always put it. “I’m going to give Annette half the answers to her homework, and then we’re going on a road trip.”

I winked awkwardly, and she somehow knew what that meant. “Gotcha,” she smirked.

“And we’re going to watch TV when we get back,” I said, motioning towards Annette as she bent down away from us to get her supplies.

“I’ll also be in my room during that time. Knock on my door when you’re ready to jet,” she said, before walking from the kitchen to her room.

I watched as Annette neatly placed all of her stuff on our twinned desk against the wall near the balcony slide doors.

I made us some ham sandwiches, and then we took our seats. Her homework mainly consisted of math, and the rest was science. I was lucky for that, because those two subjects were the easiest for me to breeze by with her.

“It’s ridiculous how you’re still learning fractions,” I mumbled sarcastically. They were trying to ruin my daughter with this bullshit. It was time for her to learn new things. She was getting cocky for no reason.

“It’s easy, though, right?” she smiled. “One over two is one half, and one over three is one third. It’s easy, mommy.”

I mentally noted to gut-punch the substitute one good time if I ever met the bastard.

“I thought you’d be learning multiplication or something, sweetie. This is common sense. They’re treating you like a dumba-” I had cut myself off. I would not cuss in front of my daughter - even if the substitute was teaching her the wrong things.

“We’ll learn that stuff with my real teacher,” she told me. That made sense - sort of. What was with the loads of bullshit math homework, though? The substitute was a real jackass.

“You can finish this worksheet really quickly, sweetie, just like you said. Show me how fast you can finish it.”

I rested my chin in my hands as my elbows settled on the table in front of me. I watched as Annette clutched her pencil, and started writing the meaning to each fraction.

“How do you spell eleven?” she asked in a small voice.

I told her how to spell eleven. She’d debate in her own head whether it had two L’s, or one, until she’d just give up and ask. She knew how to spell twelve, and she knew how to spell thirteen. It was always eleven that she’d forget how to spell.

Her hair fell in a pool around her face as she rested it there on the table. “Done,” she said in a muffled tone.

“Time for science,” I announced, and she groaned. She hadn’t liked science all that much, and science was my favorite. I was a registered nurse, and was a practical for two years before claiming my victory label. That was why I loved the subject, but it took plenty of years - studying wise - before it landed under my favorite. I pretty much memorized every textbook.

It hadn’t taken much time to finish the two science worksheets she had. One was labeling animals as carnivores or herbivores, and she only
ughed
at two out of the fourteen which I answered those for her. She was smart with this stuff when she wanted to be. The other one was all about plants, and there were summaries to help her with her answers. She eased through that one on her own just fine.

“Done?” she asked slowly.

I was looking over her answers, but I had already determined she aced it. “Yes, ma’am,” I grinned, before handing the paper back to her.

She squealed in excitement before placing all of her papers in her folder, then in her backpack.

When she zipped her bag shut, I met her eyes.

“We’re going to go on a quick road trip with aunt Catie, and then we’ll come back home and watch TV. Okay?”

“Okay, mommy.” She was smiling, which meant she was happy. And that made me happy.

“Go change into something black,” I told her.
She has a black dress, right?
I questioned myself. Of course she had a black dress. She had a dress in every color.

She nodded without question, and turned to go to her room as I knocked on Caitlyn’s door.

I was going to tell her it was time
to jet
, but when she opened the door, I hadn’t thought she’d be crying.

“What the-” I closed my mouth, and shoved past her before closing the door.

“What did he do? What did he say?” My teeth were clenched.

She took a deep breath. “He said he’s getting married, Willow. He’s marrying some girl, and she’s not me.”

No one would understand Caitlyn and Brian’s relationship, but I understood. Caitlyn was in love with him. She thought Brian was her forever, and I had thought he could be. I just hadn’t known why Brian failed to pursue what was obviously his.

“There has to be a reason,” I whispered.

“No, Willow, it doesn’t make sense,” she shook her head.

“But he loves
you
. That should be a good enough reason to back out of whatever the hell this is,” I insisted.

I hadn’t tried to hug her because I had known that was not what she wanted. She hadn’t wanted anyone to hold her who wasn’t Brian right now.

Her hands flew to her forehead as she sat on the edge of her bed. “She has money, and she’s where he is. He’s settling. It doesn’t make sense in my head, but in logic it has to.”

“If you’re hinting at
complicated
as to what you two have, then you’re
right
, Caitlyn. But that doesn’t make it impossible. He’s being a pussy and you need to tell him that. Or someone else has to, if you won’t.”

She threw her beige pillow at me, and I let it fall to the floor. I was expressionless.

“I guess it’s not meant to be.”

“Horseshit,” I muttered.

“
Willow
, I’m tired. I’m seriously tired of expecting something from him when it’s never going to happen.”

She sniffled. I grimaced. I wasn’t a relationship expert, or curly cue
cupid
by any means. I hadn’t known the right words to say to her.

“I need to contact Brian, apparently,” I pursed my lips. “If you’re tired, I’ll grab ahold of his neck for you.”

“Willow…”

“I am truthfully considering it. Who would he rather call his wife? Who would he marry? Is she a clothing-overrated model, or something? Does she have bodacious hips, or coconut titties? Or is Brian suddenly retarded?” I kicked her bedframe because I had to kick something. I was considering getting a plane ticket to Argentina, where he was supposedly located. I would have much rather kicked him in the ass.

“We have different plans,” she sighed. “It wouldn’t work. I'll resent him if I were to follow him. He’ll resent me if he were to follow me.”

She shrugged. “Or at least that’s what he claims. I told him I’d be happy as long as we were together. He said I’ll resent him if I follow him on tour, but I don’t see even the slightest bit of truth in that. It wouldn’t make sense for him to come here. I’m lost here. I wouldn’t want to leave you and Annette, but what I do for a living will eventually require travel. He refuses to give it a shot. It makes me wonder if he even loves me.”

“He loves you.” I went with the simplest response.

“But he’s marrying her.”

It was the second time she said that, and it made less of sense the second time.

“There is more to it, Caitlyn. He marrying someone that isn’t you has absolutely no logic behind it, unless he’s getting blackmailed. I doubt someone is pinning him into a marriage, because that shit doesn’t happen in real life. Brian doesn’t even have a defined jawline; he’s just a skinny drummer boy. He’s probably making it up, because he thinks you’re too good for him, which you are, but, he’s still retarded.” I explained my conclusion. Maybe she’d take it into perspective.

“Too good for him? Yeah, right,” she groaned. “None of it makes sense.”

She threw herself on her bed, and it made a thud sound.

I had heard mild knocking on the door behind me, and I stilled. “Yes, sweetie?” I asked loudly as a response to the knocking.

“I put my black dress on, mommy.” Her voice was clear, and it made me wonder if she had heard what Caitlyn and I were talking about.

I told myself she hadn’t.

My daughter was ready for the road trip, and Caitlyn obviously wasn’t. Needless to say, I was still wearing my scrubs and they weren’t black. I decided at that moment that I wasn’t going to change.

“You ready to jet, Caitlyn?” I asked in a light voice.

She leaned up off the bed, giving me a deadpan expression as a response.

I was lucky that I had a best friend slash roommate who wasn’t overly sensitive. She also loved me, which was convenient in all ways thinkable.

“What the hell,” she muttered after a few seconds.

She got off the bed, and we were going on a road trip.

Willow

I was shaking him.
It was a time where he deserved to be shaken.

It was Kennedy’s birthday. He was eighteen years old today. He had been alive for eighteen years, and he was asleep right now.

I made it my mission to change that. I snuck through his window, because I could. His bedroom was on the bottom floor, and he never locked his swingy window. I knew I’d be able to get inside. His mom, Trace, slept on the top floor, and had always been a heavy sleeper. Before Kennedy and I knew what sex was, I would spend the night at his house all the time. We’d watch movies, eat food, and play random kid games. We liked to go outside and ride our bikes, mostly, and at night when Trace was asleep. That was before we built our home, so now that we had our home, it was okay that we couldn’t spend the night at each other’s house anymore. We had our own plans. I wanted to surprise him on his birthday, so I took a chance and snuck through his window. I couldn’t call him. This was the only way.

He groaned and turned so his back was facing me as I sat on the edge of his bed. He was wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a plain T-shirt.

I punched him softly on the left ass cheek, and he muttered a nearly inaudible, “Ow.”

I smirked. “Kennedy, it’s your birthday and it’s time to
party
like it’s your birthday.”

“What could we possibly do at this time, Will?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, I don’t know…” I teased, as I lay down on his bed behind him, and hiked a leg over his hip.

“Get you and your estrogen away from my caboose.”

Kennedy was still as a board and his tone had been low, but I hadn’t taken it into consideration at the time. I was just teasing him.

I listened, and sat up on his bed. My feet were dangling just above the floor as I turned my head to look at the back of his. I was relieved when I saw the smile on his face as he turned around on the bed to face me.

“Party like it’s my birthday, you say?” he was whispering, and he looked like he had an idea.

I burrowed my eyebrows and nodded in his direction.

His smile had gotten bigger. “What if I was wearing my birthday outfit, you know? To celebrate this
big
eighteen.”

“Kennedy…”

“I wouldn’t be alone,” he had cut me off. “You’ll be right there with me.”

He was smirking, and I hadn’t quite understood what he was going on about. He seemed thrilled with the idea he had. “What are you talking about…?” I paused.

“We should go streaking.”

“No, Kennedy.”

“Hear me out, Will,” he urged.

I sighed. “I don’t want you to see
me
naked, and I don’t want to see
you
naked.”

He crinkled his face at me as his hand reached the center of his chest. “Ouch. I was thinking you’d be
begging
to see me naked by now.”

He was sarcastic and he was smiling.

I rolled my eyes. “You said for me to hear you out. So I’ll hear you out.”

He sighed a hopeful sigh. “We can wear blindfolds so we won’t be able to see each other’s birthday elements.”

I hadn’t known how to shut it down successfully. “We won’t be able to see where we’re going, and what’s the point of me being naked if we’re going to be blindfolded? It’s not my birthday, it’s yours.”

He shook the bed by rocking his hips in frustration, while making a small
gurr
sound. “It’s my birthday, and I want us both naked in the streets on
my birthday
. If seeing me naked is a problem, we can wear blindfolds. We do everything together, remember? This is a memorable time,” he went on, and the determination in his voice had me sighing yet another faltered sigh. Jesus. How could I tell him no if he was that into doing it?

“What can we do about the not-seeing-where-we’re-going situation? How would we get back home?” I asked him. I was reacting like a mid-class mother, but I had always worried too much.

He tilted his head on one side, then the other. “What if we were roped together and I ran behind you? You wouldn’t have to wear a blindfold if we did that, and you would guide me in the right direction,” he said, shrugging.

“Where do you get these ideas?” I grumbled. Only he would suggest something like this. “And people would also see us naked as they drove past, Kennedy. This is a small town.”

“Stop trying to back out, it’s happening,” he grinned. “We’re running in the streets, and we’re both going to be wearing our birthday outfits doing it.”

I was struggling with a response.

“I have four yards of rope on the top shelf in my closet, and a few ties for when I dress fancy. Let’s just do it without thinking about the outcomes. It’ll be fun,” he smiled goofily, and I ended up chuckling under my breath.

“Why do you have a rope in your closet? Is there something you’re hiding from me?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I still have the rope we used when we were kids, and would play tug-of-war. It’s like a trophy, because I always won our tug-of-wars.”

“You’re a guy,” I defended.

“We were like seven, though, Willow.”

He had a point, but it was still a surprise that he’d kept it.

“Let me think about this for a moment.”

He got off the bed after a few silent seconds, and got on one knee in front of me. I sighed as he looked up to catch my gaze, and he grabbed my hands.

“Willow Renee Monroe, may I
please
have the honor to spend my eighteenth birthday with you as my streaking partner?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is there someone else in line?”

He scoffed. “It wouldn’t be nearly as special with anyone else.”

This was strange, but I loved Kennedy more than I loved myself. I’d worry about someone seeing me naked and running in the streets - with Kennedy also tied behind me wearing a blindfold - later. It was his birthday.

“Get the supplies,” I muttered, pushing his face to the side with one of my hands.

I couldn’t believe I was going to actually do this, and he was excited as he quickly got up and went to his closet to fetch whatever he had suggested to use.

How was this a good idea? I mentally told myself to live in the moment, because it was for Kennedy.

12:46a.m.

I tied the tie
over Kennedy’s eyes, and wrapped one end of the rope around his bare waist from under his shirt before I turned away, and we stripped. Our clothes were now bunched in separate piles outside near Kennedy’s bedroom window.

I picked up the other end of the rope that was lying next to my feet, and wrapped it around my waist.

“Are we just going to run for it?” I asked, as I tightened the knot at my waist a little.

“Yeah, start jogging,” he answered, and in a
much
louder voice than I expected. He wasn’t being very secretive.

“Why are you talking so loud?” I hissed under my breath.

He chuckled. “I think it might have something to do with my lack of sight, but that doesn’t really make sense.”

He was quieter that time, so I pushed my shoulders forward and took a deep breath. I grabbed some of the slack in the rope. “I’ll pull on the rope a little if you’re traveling too closely,” I said.

“How would you know?” he asked slowly.

Deep down, or secretively - I knew Kennedy was self-conscious about me seeing him naked. But I wasn’t going to look at him. Not on
purpose
, anyway. “If the rope is dragging the ground, you’re too close,” I answered.

I wouldn’t want any accidents to happen, even if it would be funny.

He answered with an, “Okay,” and I slowly started moving.

It was weird, because it hadn’t felt like what I expected it to feel like. When we were jogging on the sidewalk and passing the minimal street lights, it felt kind of…
freeing
. Kennedy was whooping - shouting - and I wasn’t cringing to the sounds, because he was happy. I also felt pretty happy myself. He was wearing a blindfold, running down the street naked - with a naked
me
attached to him, and guiding him.

It was funny, and I was
laughing
. When a car would pass us, I’d laugh
harder
, and tell Kennedy a car just passed us.

When Kennedy spoke, and said, “Maybe we should turn around now,” something dawned on me. How would I turn us around without seeing him naked?

My eyes squeezed shut as I stopped. I pulled on the rope so Kennedy would know I was stopped. “I’m stopped,” I told him, just to make sure he knew.

I sighed as I heard his movements abruptly come to a stop behind me. “Kennedy, how am I going to turn us around without seeing your birthday outfit?” My voice was small, and kind of weak. I couldn’t come up with random ideas on the spot like he could. He was going to have to guide me through
this
.

“Hmm…” he paused. “Well, you can close your eyes, and hope you don’t run into me.”

Shit, I was going to see him naked. I had a feeling that I was. He hadn’t had to know if I did. Hopefully I wouldn’t react out loud. I was going to give it a shot, though, and close my eyes.

I distinctively held my hands out in front of me as I turned around, my eyes squeezed shut. I had expected to possibly touch his stomach or his arm, and I had figured that wouldn’t be bad.

I had stumbled a little through my third step, and my eyes flew open because I got scared - and I found him with a shit-eating grin as he held his crouch with his hands. His tie was no longer wrapped around his eyes.

I glared at him as my hands flew up to cover what they could cover. “
Kennedy
, what the-”

“I can explain,” he interrupted me. “It fell off, Will. A few feet back, it just flew off.”

“Why aren’t you shutting your eyes, then? Why’d you tell me to turn around?” I groaned out loud and stomped my foot on the ground. There was nothing I could do now, though. Kennedy had seen me naked.

“I panicked, and you turned around without warning,” he answered. He was casual about it.

I told myself it wasn’t a big deal.

“I agreed to do this, so I guess I asked for it,” I crinkled my forehead. “Is your birthday outfit too small for you, or something? Why are you covering it?”

I placed my hands on my hips because he already saw me naked, anyway. It was funny, because we were still tied together. Kennedy widened his eyes at me.

“It’s…” he paused, stuttering a little. “It’s just...you’ve never seen a man’s birthday outfit before, and this is
mine
you're talking about.”

I hadn’t faltered with a comeback, and my eyes narrowed on him slightly. “My ass was the first female ass you saw, and it was as I was running down the street,” I fired back, in a matter of fact tone. “And here I am.”

I was completely presented. He saw everything. I wasn’t sure if seeing Kennedy’s birthday outfit was a good idea, I was just thinking of what was fair.

“It’s my birthday, and I’ll hide it if I want to,” he smirked, and I decided I wasn’t going to pry. I hadn’t had to see his birthday outfit. The fact I had been a little disappointed made me feel guilty.

I rolled my eyes, and motioned for him to turn around. “You’re leading this time.”

“Okay, but only because I want to,” he countered, and then he winked.

I had thought I was a horrible best friend as we ran down the sidewalk, still attached to each other with a rope - and my eyes were
glued
to his ass. It was a nice ass, but it was Kennedy’s ass. I wasn’t supposed to like the way it looked.

I wouldn’t lose Kennedy just because he saw me naked, and I saw his ass. That couldn’t happen.

We’d
always
be just Willow and Kennedy.