Blonde Chicks Preferred: May 30, 2013

Liam Nordstrom:  May 30, 2013

What the hell? I was leaving the studio with Kelsey when two police detectives stopped me. They introduced themselves and showed me their credentials. They could have been actors for all I knew. My first thought was that the guys went all out with these costumes. The badges looked pretty legitimate. The crew and actors played practical jokes on each other all the time and this was probably just payback for last week’s prank.

“Could you come down to the station with us? We have some questions about Lane Pierce.”

“Who?” I asked. I had no idea who this person was, but I was willing to play along.

Kelsey squeezed past me, intentionally flipping her strawberry blonde ponytail in my face as she maneuvered by. She even smelled like strawberries and I was hungry. “I’ll meet you back at the house,” she said with a smirk and I knew the look came from the key burning a hole in her pocket. I had given it to her just that morning. She and I were getting more serious and it was a huge step for me to give her a key to the house. It implied exclusivity and complete access to me. Up until now, I had never taken that step with anyone.

The female detective’s sneer wiped the smile from my face. “Am I supposed to know who that is?” I asked. The unisex name didn’t even indicate if it was a man or a woman. Maybe this wasn’t a joke.

“We would like you to come down to the station so we can discuss this in private,” stated the male detective.

“Do I need my lawyer?”

“There are no charges it this time. We just have some questions for you,” he added.

I’d done enough television drama to know that was code for you better get your lawyer’s ass on the phone. I followed them out to their car conscious of every word that came out of my mouth.

“We’ll drop you back at your vehicle when we’re done, Mr. Nordstrom,” said the female detective as we settled in the nondescript car. I set my motorcycle helmet on the chair next to me and buckled the seatbelt.

From the backseat, I called my father and explained the situation the best I could for him. I had no idea why I was being questioned, but I knew enough to cooperate and to use my lawyer father when I needed him.

By the time my father showed up and the questioning started, I was sure that I was going to prison. I still had no idea what I had done but the police detectives mannerisms indicated they were convinced of my guilt. Besides, I had a lawyer—I must have done whatever I’m being questioned about. They almost had me persuaded until they showed me a picture of the girl, I had supposedly forced myself on. “You’ve got to be joking,” I said. “She looks like she’s thirteen and she’s not even blonde.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Nordstrom, we’re not joking. She is sixteen and a minor. That makes it rape whether it was consensual or not.”

“I need some time to confer with my client,” said my father.

“I’ve never seen that girl in my life,” I practically shouted. Though I play a character that would have no qualms forcing himself on a girl, in fact, my TV persona did just that last season, I am not that kind of guy and I have no interest in underage girls. My father looked at me questioningly as I shook my head in disgust. “This is such BS!”

“If charges are being filed against my client, you better have evidence to support such accusations or we’re leaving,” my father stated. “When did the alleged act take place? What makes you think this girl isn’t just making up the whole story?”

“We are just gathering information at this point. The assault took place on May 21st between 11:30 and 3am the following day. We need to know your client’s whereabouts. We would also like your client to submit to DNA testing. If you need a few minutes to consult with him, you may have it at this time,” stated the male detective and then he and the other detective rose, leaving the room.

“Did you sleep with this girl?” asked my lawyer in his calm voice he reserved for his real clients.

“No, Dad, I’ve never met her.” Even my own father had doubts.

“Maybe I should just do the DNA test. It would clear everything up.”

“They are implying that they have DNA evidence, but that might not be the case at all. It may just be a tactic to get you to confess. Giving in to the test will be the last resort. There are too many variables and you don’t want your DNA on file if we can help it. Where were you that night?”

I knew that I hadn’t slept with the brunette, but I wasn’t sure I could prove it. I felt a bead of sweat slide down the center of my back as I checked my phone’s calendar. The date was a week and a half ago. I thumbed through my schedule and when I got to the right page relief flooded my body. I definitely had that night covered. “On the 21st, Kelsey and I grabbed take out and hit the sheets by nine. I had a 4:00 call the next morning. We rode to the studio together. We were together the whole night.”

“Will this Kelsey collaborate your alibi?”

“She’s my girlfriend and it’s true. Why wouldn’t she?” It was weird to admit she was my girlfriend, but I guess that’s what she is. “I don’t understand how this sixteen year old can make false allegations and have the police take her seriously.”

“People can say anything they want about a public figure. Being famous actually makes it harder for you to file defamation charges against her. Judges usually assume the worst of public figures or want to make an example of them. And the police have to take the accusations seriously or they can be accused of giving preferential treatment. The girl just wants attention, her fifteen seconds of fame.”

“So I just have to accept this crap? It doesn’t seem fair.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder and, with a chuckle, said, “Life’s not fair, Son. Next time we’ll handle it differently with the police.”

“Next time?”

“You have a target on your back. The character you play is a pretty messed up guy and people want to believe you’re him. It will happen again. It just means you’re good enough to make your character believable. Congratulations, you’ve made it in Hollywood." He smiled and patted my shoulder. "The story will be out in the press for a couple of days, the girl will get her name in the news and then it will disappear. By the time the truth comes out the public will have moved on and no one will care that you didn’t do it. You’ve made it, Liam. Lies and innuendo fuel the business.”

It sucked donkey balls! But my dad was right. I should wear it as a badge of honor. I’m important enough to lie about. Free advertising for my brand, it doesn’t matter that it’s negative.

After sharing my alibi with the detectives and Kelsey collaborating it over the phone to them, my dad and I left the station. He dropped me at my bike, and I headed back to Malibu naively thinking the nightmare was over.

Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Jessica's Way: May 27, 2013

Jessica:  May 27, 2013

I didn’t get to talk to Jeff over the weekend about the words he spilled to his mom. I kept waiting for him to bring it up, but he never did. He told the story at the bonfire about his mom calling him out into the hall as if he was fifteen and everyone thought it was so funny. But when I announced to the group that I heard his entire hallway conversation, he didn’t even react. Then he avoided me the rest of the weekend. Now, I don’t know what to do. He knows that I know, but he still hasn’t owned up to his words. Aaaagh!

I get that Thor was there, and Jeff didn’t want to talk about love or the future in front of a guy whose life was just demolished by a woman. The big break up shocked everyone. Thor and Nora had dated forever and they were supposed to get married in a couple of weeks. We never expected her to do what she did and I think that Thor’s experience traumatized Jeff out of love. Is that possible? Maybe not out of love, but fractured him enough to not want to acknowledge the words that he’d said. I can’t unhear them.

I know relationships are fluid. They change with outside influences. I never would have thought that Sarah and Matt would break up until their relationship shattered like a light bulb on a tile floor. Now Thor and Nora have ended. I believe Jeff and I are meant to be together though. There’s always been a connection between us. Even when he treated me like his little sister’s annoying friend, I could tell that he was never quite as irritated with me as he was with Sarah. Then one day he just stopped being irritated. I could see the change in the way he looked at me, in the way he smiled when I talked to him. I didn’t take him seriously at first. I liked him but I was so young with too many obstacles ahead of me. It was years before we started dating and only officially in the last eight months.

Tonight when Jeff dropped me off at my mom’s around seven, he gave me a quick kiss and told me he would text me before bed. I look forward to his texts every night, quick little messages to let me know he’s thinking about me. Sometimes they are sweet and innocent, but usually they’re not. My friends always tease me about Jeff’s sexts whenever my phone goes off at night. Now it’s almost one in the morning and, for the first time, I haven’t gotten my text. I don’t want to call him because I know he has to work in the morning and he may have just fallen asleep. But here I am, wide awake.        
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Sarah's Journal: May 27, 2013

Sarah:  May 27, 2013 

When did I step into the Twilight Zone? I’m in the back seat heading home from the weirdest weekend that I have ever had in my life. I told Jeff and Jess that I was putting my headphones on so that I could write in my journal without distractions, but really I did it so they could talk. Something is messed up between them and they really need to figure it out. Jeff has been avoiding being alone with Jessica all weekend and she’s obviously miffed at him. Anyone could see it, especially after the bonfire. They better work it out because I’m pretty sure I would pick her if their relationship ended in a divorce and that would make for some really interesting family holidays.

Whatever their problem is, started when Mom caught them in bed together on Saturday morning. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, but at least it wasn’t my dad. He knows, though. Why couldn’t Mom just keep it to herself? Dad cornered me in the kitchen on Sunday morning and asked me how serious Jeff and Jessica were. Really? 

“They’re serious enough,” I said. The scowl on my face should have told him how uncomfortable I was talking about my brother and my best friend’s sex life, but he didn’t catch on.

“Your mother and I didn’t realize that they were so committed.”

“Well. They are,” I said, not sure what else to say. 

“They’re not getting engaged, are they?” He had the strangest look on his face.

I shook my head. Why do parents assume that their children are virgins until their wedding nights? They are such hypocrites. I mean, with the stories Mom tells—I don’t get it. I’m never going to be like that. My dad seemed satisfied with my answer and didn’t ask any more questions. My parents are usually forward thinkers. Usually. They accept people for who they are, faults and all, and don’t linger on past mistakes. That’s why this threw me. I’ve seen Alli’s parents practically dictate her life to her, not allowing her to make decisions—never giving her enough room to make them. My parents aren’t like them. Weekend in the Twilight Zone—totally.

And if drama-with-Dad wasn't bad enough, Jeff’s ex-roommate Thor showed up and unloaded his sad story on me while we were putting the dock in. I'm not lying. It was the epitome of a Gerry Springer show. Then at the bonfire, he starts flirting with me, even after I told him I was seeing someone. I am. I am seeing someone. Thor just broke up with his fiancé that week and he’s flirting with me? When Alli and Megan showed up, I was just looking for an escape. I should have had Megan sit next to him. She’s much more equipped to deal with guys like that. I felt sorry for him though. I thought that he would be better off with Alli, after all that he had been through. She’s usually sweet and doesn’t get too involved with guys. But I didn’t know she was on a bender weekend. Now what? She and Thor made plans for next Friday. I don’t want her to be his rebound. Do I tell her about Thor or do I give him the benefit of the doubt? Jeff says he’s always been a decent guy. Still, breakups change people. 

Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler 

Perfect Alli: May 27, 2013

Alli:  May 27, 2013

Thor and I drove for fifteen minutes in the rain while I told him all about my future plans. I didn’t want to talk about myself. It didn’t fit into my "escape-my-life weekend." Most guys get a little intimidated by my plans, but he actually sounded interested. So I told him what he wanted to know and I tried not to think about how the conversation wanted to make me vomit.

I had no idea where we were when we ended up on another dirt road and the skies grew even darker, inundating us with a relentless waterfall across the windshield. The wipers couldn’t keep up. Thor threw the truck into park in the middle of the road, unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me in his shirtless glory, saying, “I’d rather look at you anyway.” His eyes so dark that no pupil showed, he unfastened my seatbelt and pulled on my arm to gently draw me closer to him. “So…Alli, you’re going to be a doctor. What kind of doctor are you going to be?”

His words may have been innocent but his eyes said something completely not. Play doctor with me, they coaxed. I shrugged my shoulders and turned my eyes to the pouring rain, just to catch my thought. “My mom is a psychiatrist,” I said. I didn’t want to see his expression when he heard that. People are always unsettled by her profession. “And my dad is a neurosurgeon.”

“A brain surgeon?”

“Yes,” I said with little enthusiasm, turning my eyes back to him. He gazed at the ceiling of the truck with his head against the window as if he was contemplating something I was oblivious to. “It would be easier if I followed in one of their footsteps. They have all kinds of networks. And that’s what they want,” I continued.

“You don’t,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Was I that transparent?

“I don’t know what I want. I’ve known since I was a little girl that I’d go to medical school. It’s not really a choice I made.”

His brow furrowed and I wondered what I had said that troubled him. He reached out grasping a strand of my red hair between his fingers before tucking it tenderly behind my ear and asking, “If you could be anything you wanted, what would you be?”

“I’m going to be a doctor.”

“That’s not what I asked.” A smile etched on his face as his fingers traced my clenched jaw. “What would you be if you couldn’t be a doctor?”

This was pointless. “It doesn’t matter. That’s what I’m going to be.”

“Well…my brother is in his third year of residency out in Boston and he always says there’s not enough money in the world to make medical school worth it. The way he describes it, a person needs to be consumed with the desire to make a difference in the world or it will never happen. You sound like you’re doing it for your parents.”

“Don’t you think that you’re being a bit arrogant to assume you know me?” My words came out harsher than I intended and his hand pulled back from where it was touching my face as if I’d burned him. I don’t know what is wrong with me. Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?

“Whoa. I guess it’s true what they say about redheads. Feisty.” His last word said slow and sexy, as he raised one eyebrow.

“Jerk,” I said, but I couldn’t help the smile that crept across my face and his cocky look made me chuckle.

“I guess that’s a sore spot. We can switch it up. Are you seeing anyone right now?”

“Would I be here, if I was?” I don’t know why I was so irritated and I needed a padlock for my mouth.

“Like you said, I don’t know you. Is that a no?”

“No.”

“So you are seeing someone?”

“No. I am not…” I began, but his lips swallowed my words.

His hand wove under my hair and curled around the base of my neck, pulling me toward him to deepen the kiss. His tongue parted my lips in a slow mesmerizing push and I flattened my hand on his bare chest, not to push him away, but to suck him closer somehow. I needed this—needed to get lost, to disappear into a world not my own. As I fantasized about this kiss leading to the middle of a dark romance novel, his hands skimmed down my body to my hips and then, without warning, Thor pulled back. He blinked as if he was trying to gain control, while I looked at him in disbelief.

“You have the prettiest blue eyes,” he said.

“Thanks.” It came out as a whimper. What kind of answer was that? I’m sitting here alone with this completely hot guy who is telling me how pretty my eyes are and for the first time in my life, I forgot how to talk. My mouth is either without a filter or not working at all.

“We should get going before I throw you down on the seat and have my way with you.”

Please! I wanted to say, but my mouth still wasn’t connected to my brain. Instead I just stared at him.

His gorgeous smile twisted brazenly. “You’re going to have to wipe that expression from your beautiful face because that’s the look that makes me want to take advantage of you.”

I smiled. I could feel the heat spread across my neck and I knew I was blushing. He flung the truck into gear again and within minutes, (I don’t know how we got there) we were in the drive-thru of a fast-food restaurant. One minute we’re on a deserted road and the next we’re in some dinky little town. Did I black out?

We sat in the truck eating sub sandwiches as he told me about how he had just graduated with a degree in engineering after five years at UW and was going to the U of M for his masters. He and his brother were sharing an apartment near campus.

“How many siblings do you have?” I asked. This obviously wasn’t the same brother who was in residency. Being an only child sometimes it’s hard for me to understand the sibling relationship.

“Four, all boys,” he answered. “I’m the youngest.” Holy moly five boys.

“Your poor mother,” I said.

He laughed. “I was my parent’s last try for a girl.” He waved his hands in front of body like he was presenting himself. “As you can see it didn’t work out for them.”

“Their loss, my gain.” My mouth was working again. Surprise. I sounded like Megan.

He chuckled. “I have to head back to the Cities today, but come to my place on Friday. My brother and I are having a few people over. I’d like you to come.”

His words held promise and as we headed back to join our friends at the lake, my stomach spun with excitement. I was looking forward to the following weekend for the first time in forever.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Blonde Chicks Preferred: May 27, 2013

Liam Nordstrom: May 27, 2013

Met Will last night for a burger and drinks at Mickey’s. It’s dark in there and the hostess, Teiki sat us in the back, like always. Will said he and Rachel Marrero spent all Saturday doing stills and an interview for some Australian magazine. It's a promo for their upcoming film and the article, most likely, wouldn’t be out until the end of summer.

“Is she as tight as everyone imagines,” I asked and he smiled. He had to have hooked up with her.

“Wouldn’t know. I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Why not? I would have. Is she with someone?” I looked up from my plate and met his eyes. “Honestly that shouldn’t matter. You’re doing a film together. There’s latitude when you’re starring in a film together. Isn’t that in your contract?”

Will laughed. “She’s not seeing anyone. She told me. And she would have gone back to my place if I had asked, but I didn’t.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He stared at the wall behind me with a distant look on his face. “I don’t know.” He took a bite of his burger shaking his head.

“Whatever it is, get over it. Get on it and get in it,” I said and he raised an eyebrow to me. “What’s stopping you? Is it Mia?” God don't let it be Mia.

 He swallowed what he was chewing and then took a swig of beer before answering. “The Internet girl.”

“Seriously? Have you told her who you are?”

“No,” he said before taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Because you know that it will just fuck everything up and she’ll turn into some psycho superfan?”

“That's not it. She’s got this perfect little life and I don’t want to drown her in my cracked fishbowl.”

“How do you know she hasn't figured out who you are?”

“I can tell. We connect on a higher level."

I rolled my eyes. "You haven’t even talked to her on the phone. You don’t know her at all.” I wasn’t trying to piss him off. I just wanted to pull him back into reality. What did he want? Most actors would cut off their left nut for his life. I'm not saying that his life isn't fucked sometimes because of his fame, but it's a tradeoff. You can't have it both ways. He shut up about the girl after that and changed the subject to my "revolving door" of a love life.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Perfect Alli: May 26, 2013

Alli:  May 26, 2013

The rain started before breakfast and there was no sign that it would ever stop. Jeff and Thor searched the static on the television for a working channel while the rest of us cleaned up the breakfast dishes. So unfair. Exhausted from our night of drinking, we opted to watch a DVD, when we finished in the kitchen. Jessica picked the movie, Love Twice—a friends-with-benefits type love story where the characters fake it until they fall in love. She and Jeff had seen it in the theater and Jessica claimed it would be worth our time.

I settled in the oversized chair and propped my feet up on the ottoman. The couch had been claimed and I didn’t feel like sitting on the floor. As the opening credits ran, Thor squeezed in next to me. The chair stretched wide enough to seat us both but I wasn’t used to guys being that assertive. Most the guys, I dated, had to be told where to sit and where to put their hands. After last night when he asked me if he could kiss me, I guess, I expected him to ask before he made any sudden moves. I didn’t mind. I was just surprised. I sank into his warmth and he smiled that gorgeous smile. As the movie progressed to some very explicit scenes, his finger drew figure-eights on the back of my neck and he pulled my hand flat against his stomach. His rock hard stomach. I didn’t expect that either. And when did he get a shower? My hair still smelled like burnt wood from the bonfire, while his smelled clean and fresh and yummy.

When the movie ended Thor nudged me onto the screened porch. Closing the door behind us, he grasped my hips and drew me against him. I was sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t.  “Take a walk with me,” he said.

“In the rain?” I asked. “I’m not really a walking in the rain type girl.” I know it’s not very romantic but all I could think about was how my Italian leather boots would get wrecked in the mud and what the rain would do to my hair.

“Then, take a drive with me.” His voice almost hummed.

“OK,” I agreed.

Last night when I settled into my sleeping bag, I was positive all the girls were asleep, but Sarah’s voice whispered softly through the air. “Do you like him?”

“Yeah. He’s great,” I answered and then I regurgitated all of the problems that I’d been having with my parents, as if she hadn’t heard them before and how Thor was the perfect weekend distraction.

“Don’t hurt him,” she said, sitting up and glancing toward me.

“I’m not going to hurt him.” It came out of my mouth louder than I expected, and Megan groaned to notify me of my volume. Why would I hurt him?

“Just be upfront with him. If you don’t want a relationship, tell him. He just got royally screwed by his now ex.”

“Screwed how?” I asked.

Sarah paused the way she does when she’s not quite sure what to say. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“Then why did you mention it?” blared Megan. Thank you, Megan.

“Just be honest with him,” added Sarah.

It all flashed through my head as Thor held me on the porch. And I was supposed to go for a ride with him without worrying about what his last girlfriend looked like or why they broke up or how she screwed him. How was I supposed to be honest with him when I didn’t know what I wanted? Really, it’s not like we’d even gone on a date. Why was I worrying about this?

We dashed to his pick-up truck and he stood getting drenched outside my door, waiting to close it for me. When we hit the paved road, a half a mile from the house, he cranked the heat and asked me to take the wheel. The farm road was straight, but I had to scoot across the bench seat to steer. With his hands-free, he reached back and pulled his rain saturated T-shirt over his head. Holy Crap! He was ripped.
 
He smirked at my expression and said, “Feel free to do the same. Wouldn't want you to get chilled.”

I know I was still gawking when he took control of the wheel again, but I managed to spit out, “No. I’m good.”

The smile grew on his face. “Tell me about, Alli.” The nerdy edge that I'd seen last night was completely gone and he wasn’t acting, at all, like he had ever been hurt.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Sarah's Journal: May 26, 2013

Sarah:  May 26, 2013

Here I am another memorial weekend without a boyfriend to snuggle with in front of the bonfire. I don’t know what Will is. Can I consider him my boyfriend? I feel like we’re dating. Neither of us is seeing anyone else, but how real can it be if we’ve never met?

Will and I connected online Thursday night and I shared my plans for the weekend up at the lake. I told him that it would probably be raining and cold like it always was on Memorial Day weekend. I would have given anything for him to say, “I’ll keep you warm.” No such luck. I told him I wouldn’t be able to meet up with him because there was no Internet at the cabin.

“How does that make you feel?” he asked. I knew he was making fun of me. One of my psych professors hammered that phrase into my head for two semesters and it slips out of my mouth more than I like to admit. It is really just an open-ended question to provoke discussion, but I must have written it more than once to Will.

“I’m screaming inside,” I answered.

Then he said something that really threw me off. “And that’s why I love you.” I stared at my computer screen in disbelief for a moment as I tried to figure out if his words meant anything. Normally I would have just let it go. People say stuff like that all the time. But that one line scrambled my brain and I didn’t know how to respond.

I must have paused too long because he added. “Just the reaction I wanted.” What did that mean? Was he being sarcastic? Was the reaction my hesitation or my screaming? Brain freeze!!! I decided that he must have meant my screaming and he was just clarifying his first statement. I moved on.

“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked.

“Working.”

“How does that make you feel?” I typed, trying to make him laugh.

“I’m screaming like a little girl inside,” he wrote.

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“Yep. How does that make you feel?”

“Shut up. Are you ever going to tell me what you do at your job?” I like that he gets my sense of humor. He seems to know exactly what I’m thinking. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

“Nope,” he answered after another long pause.

“Had to think about that one?” I asked.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do. I would still like you even if you cleaned bathrooms for a living,” I wrote.

“So you like me?” he asked

“Obviously.”

Then some idiot that was not invited to our chat wrote, “I like you too, Sarah. Can I get a BJ too?” What an ass! The guy continued vomiting disgusting comments, one after another, as if he had listened to our entire conversation. We’ve never been interrupted in a private chat room before and even after we changed sites I couldn’t get the guy out of my head. I didn’t feel as free to open up online as I had before. I guess people like him are the reason why Will never wants to share our phone numbers or emails over the Internet. I just thought he was being paranoid, but I wouldn’t want that guy calling me. How are Will and I ever going to meet? It seems impossible.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Perfect Alli: May 25, 2013

Alli:  May 25, 2013

I can do this. I can act the part for another summer. I’ve done it all my life—played the devoted daughter and perfect student. I’m really good at it. Most people believe I’m all that. They don’t see the real me. They don’t see my failures or the times when I do the opposite of what I’m told, just to push back. They don’t see that I’m barely holding on.

My parents know I’m not perfect. They tell me every day how lacking I am. They nag my faults and network for me, so their only child doesn’t embarrass them. Regardless of what they tell their friends and coworkers about how smart I am or how well I scored on my MCATS, I know I will never meet their standards.

I was thrilled to be able to crawl out from under their magnifying glass and escape to Sarah’s parent’s lake home for the weekend. Sarah calls it a cabin, but it's really a lake home. Megan and I drove up together, arriving after sunset. The cold night air chilled us when we stepped out of Megan’s Beetle. We followed the smoke trail to the bonfire by the lake. Perched in folding chairs around the fire pit, our friends were already a few drinks ahead of us and were laughing hysterically about some story Jeff had just shared. A clean-shaven prep-boy sat next to Sarah and I wondered if it was her Internet guy. As she got up to greet us, she said, “Why don’t you take my chair, Alli and I’ll grab a couple more from the boathouse.” She linked me and the guy with her eyes before disappearing into the dark abyss surrounding the fire.

As I settled into Sarah’s chair, Jeff introduced the guy as his ex-roommate from UW, Thor.

“Thor? Really?” I said with a chuckle.

And prep-boy laughed, a carefree, sexy laugh. “Ted,” he said, handing me a hard lemonade and lighting up the night with a gorgeous smile.

“We called him Thor because he wielded a giant mallet,” Jeff stated, waving his hand over his head as if he was swinging a massive hammer.

“Only when something wasn’t working. I called it my Persuader. Every engineer has his methods,” Thor added.

He didn’t really look like a Thor. His muscles ran long and lean, visible, but not bulky. He wore a black North Face jacket with jeans and an oxford. He was definitely my type, masculine with a slight nerdy edge. I could see why Sarah had pushed me to sit next to him. What I didn’t understand was why Megan started flirting with him. She tossed her blonde hair back and introduced herself. She asked him a few questions and sat down crossing her long legs, the way she does when she’s seducing a guy.

Normally, it wouldn’t bother me, but I was looking for a distraction—an escape from my parents, from the summer job that they forced me into at the hospital, and from the pressure of getting into medical school. I don’t usually seek out guys, relationships are messy and more work than I have time for, but I was fleeing responsibility and everything ordered, at least for the weekend. Besides, Thor was not Megan’s type at all. Didn’t she just break up with Peterson because he was too all-American for her? She liked guys with a dark crazy side and Thor was about as clean cut as they come. I knew she was toying with him on purpose, disregarding me because of my usual lack of interest. I could see it before me—she’d pour on her flirt and within minutes Thor would be putty in her hands.

Maybe I felt sorry for him or maybe I was feeling entitled when I leaned into Megan’s ear and whispered, “I want him,” like he was a piece of candy or a new dress. It’s not that I wanted to sleep with him and Megan knew that. She knows I’m usually PG-13 and that may have been what was behind the smirk she was giving me. But then, without a word, she stood, squeezed my shoulder and walked up the lawn toward the house. By the time she returned, a large chocolate bar in her hand, I was deep in conversation with Thor and had made my claim. She smiled at me as she sat down and began talking to Sarah.

Hours later as the fire dwindled and my friends started getting up to go inside, Thor and I sat silent, ignoring the others' banter about getting to bed. I don’t know what I was hoping for. I just wanted more time with him. When everyone had abandoned us and the fire was out, he said, “You look cold.” He reached for my hand and pulled me onto his lap. “That’s better. Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes dark and sincere.

I couldn’t believe he was asking. Couldn’t he tell by the fact that I let him pull me onto his lap? I nodded and his lips met mine so tenderly that it stopped my breath. One of his hands slid into my hair at the back of my neck, his other to my knee. His tongue swept my mouth, sending heat to my very core and releasing all the tension that had been trapped inside me for so long.

After several minutes, he pulled back and said, “I suppose we should head in too.” I didn't want to go in, but I didn't know what would happen if we stayed. We walked hand in hand into the house and before we each went our separate ways, he kissed me one more time.

I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings. I can't wait to be imperfect.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Jessica's Way: May 25, 2013

Jessica:  May 25, 2013

Ohmygod! Did that really happen this morning? I thought that Jeff’s parents had already left for the lake. They usually go up to the cabin the Friday of Memorial Day weekend. Why were they still here on Saturday morning? Jeff and I had gone out for dinner and a movie last night. The earlier movie was sold out, so we opted for the ten o’clock show and got back to the house after midnight. We’ve been dating since September and we’ve always stayed at my place on the weekends. But now that school is out and I no longer have my own place, he can’t stay at my mom’s house with me. I thought his parents were gone. How embarrassing!

Kate knocked on the bedroom door wondering if Jeff wanted to ride up to the cabin with her and his dad. He looked at me questioningly and I shook my head as I scrambled out of bed in pursuit of my clothes. I had my jeans on and my shirt in my hand when his mom said, “Open the door for me, please. I have a stack of folded laundry in my hands.”

I didn’t even have time to be appalled by the fact that his mother still does his laundry. I couldn’t find my bra. I was frantic. It was nowhere to be found, like a missing sock in the dryer. I slipped on my shirt sans a bra and glanced in the mirror at my untamable sex hair as Jeff calmly slipped on a pair of sweatpants and unlocked the door.

I stood covering my chest, my eyes darting around the room searching for the missing garment, while Kate stashed her son’s socks and underwear in the appropriate drawers. I wanted to run and hide, but I couldn’t leave the room without my bra. When Kate had emptied her arms, she turned and, of course, spotted it right away. Jeff broke out laughing as his mother pulled my red bra from where it had wedged itself between the bed’s comforter and footboard.

“Is this what you’re looking for, dear?” she asked, handing it to me. “Jeff, may I speak to you in the hall for a minute?”

Jeff rolled his eyes and followed her out of the room. I overheard their entire conversation. How could I not? The door was left open. It went something like this:

“I hope you know what you are doing, Jeffery.” She only uses his proper name when she’s angry.
        
“I’m twenty-three years old. I know this may be a shock, but she’s not the first girl I’ve had in my room.”

“Don’t. Don’t you group Jessica with those other girls. She’s like a daughter to your father and me. She’s special. You better treat her with respect or I will make your life hell.”

“I love her, Mom.” His words flowed freely and without hesitation. “I think she’s the one. I would never hurt her.” For him to admit that to his mother was huge. Jeff has never said the L-word to me.

I know he loves me. He shows me in every touch, every smile, every time he weaves his fingers through my hair. He tells me with his eyes every time he looks at me, but he has never said the words. And I won’t be the first to say them. I’m not like my father who declares his love to every woman he dates. I’m cautious. Telling a guy I love him means something to me. Maybe he is afraid to tell me, because he doesn’t want to scare me. He knows what I think about my father. Maybe he left the bedroom door open on purpose. Maybe he knew what his mother was going to say. Did he want me to know that he loves me? Or was I not supposed to hear it?

I want to talk to him about it, but we won’t have time to talk this weekend. Every Memorial Day weekend it’s the same at the cabin—mow the grass, push the dock back into the lake and replace the decking, push the boat lift back into the lake, launch the boat, launch the raft, wash the linens, clean floors, chop wood, catch up with the neighbors we haven’t seen all winter, etc. The list goes on forever. We’ll be too busy to have a serious talk. With Sarah in the backseat, we won’t be able to talk on the ride up there either, and once Megan and Alli meet up with us, we’ll never have a minute alone. I wonder when Jeff will bring it up, or maybe he was just pacifying his mom and doesn't plan on telling me. I wish I hadn’t heard him.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler

Megan's Blog: May 19, 2013

Megan:  May 19, 2013

School’s done! We’re officially seniors. We should still be celebrating, but no... It’s Sunday and we have to be out of the rental by five o’clock. The girls who are subletting the house for the summer are already moving in boxes. I get it. They’re anxious to get settled before summer classes start, but couldn’t they give us a chance to breathe after finals. I thought about staying in the house for the summer. It wouldn’t be the same without my friends though. One of the girls, moving in, says that she has a dust allergy and will be dusting the entire house every day. Really? Everyday? Does she realize how much dust is in a hundred-year-old house? Is she crazy? She seems a little too uptight for my sanity and I’m sure I would rip into her a couple hundred times before the end of summer if I stayed.

Still, I’m not looking forward to moving home. I keep telling myself that it’s only three months. I can do anything for three months. I could live at Sarah’s. I know her parents would let me. Or I could live in my car. Either option would be better than my house. I’ll move my boxes home to store them, to make it look like I’m living there, to put up a show. I know I can make myself scarce, like last summer, only going home when I need sleep. It will make everyone in the house happier if I’m a ghost.

I wonder if I’ll run into Chase while I’m home—not likely. He’s probably DEAD. I’d never know. It’s not like his parents would call me. They still blame me for what happened. But I think I would probably know in my heart if he was dead. I’d feel it. Or maybe that connection has been severed forever. I used to think that Chase was my home—what kept me tethered to this earth. Used to. Too much has happened since then. I don’t know what keeps me here now.