The Understorey (The Leaving #1)

“Already we’ve got an inside joke? Don’t you think that’s a big step? Aren’t inside jokes for people with labels? We’re not even friends.”

I had only said that because of what she had said at lunch.

“We aren’t?” She asked pleadingly.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I had forgotten how to be a man.

Forget parameters, I thought to myself. Forget lunch. Tell her what you want.

“No Jules. We aren’t friends but that’s going to change, because we’re going to start dating.”

A little too forceful.

“If that’s okay with you?” I amended.

She looked pleased, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

“Elliott Gray. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re nothing like I’d thought you’d be. How you appear to others is not what I see in your heart. You’re well liked at school, but you don’t seem to care. You’re the starting quarterback, and from what I’ve heard your phenomenal, but you don’t seem to be bothered to even talk about it. You’re an enigma.”

“Oh that,” I said, clearing my throat. “I do that for my pop. Don’t get me wrong, I like playing. I mean, it’s fun and all, but he wants me to play college and frankly I haven’t figured out a way to break it to him that I won’t be doing that.”

At that moment, Thatcher’s door opened up and let a tiny gust of wind in. The wind carried itself throughout the diner, caught Julia’s perfume and sent it through my nostrils. It assaulted me, and again, I forgot what we had been talking about. It tasted of honeysuckle and citrus and it was intoxicating. I almost shot up, snatched her hand, and dragged her from that booth. I didn’t know what I was going to do then, but I can tell you this, if the food hadn’t come to free me from the thought I would have seized her with everything I had in front of Thatcher and the whole inane town.

Thatcher tossed everything down and slumped away. It was hot so we let it cool for a moment or maybe we were just too excited to eat.

“Let me try something,” she said.

She reached out her hand, her palm facing me and waited for mine. I reached up my own hand and met it with hers. The voltaic strike punched through us but neither of us pulled away, darkening the diner around our booth. A hot heat built between our palms and our breathing got heavier and deeper as the charge trembled through us. I had to pull my hand away just to keep my sanity about me.

“That’s an amazing feeling, isn’t it?" She asked.

“It’s unfathomable,” I said.

“What is it?” She asked bluntly.

Asking the very question I had wanted answered since day one.

“I’m not sure and to be honest with you, I’m starting to think I don’t care.”

That surprised even me.

“You don’t?”

“Nope,” I realized, “It doesn’t matter to me. It’s ours and that’s all that concerns me. I don’t want to have to find an explanation for it. I sort of like that it’s beyond our comprehension, like it’s not meant to be defined.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she teased.

We ate our food and pushed our plates to the side. We drank about seven Dr. Peppers a piece, just to have an excuse to talk, until Thatcher’s closed. He had to kick us out. We hadn’t even noticed that everyone else had left, probably hours before. I decided to drive Julia to her house down the street because I didn’t feel right having her drive her own car from the school at nine o’clock at night by herself. Her dad would have killed me. Also, I had an ulterior motive, I wanted to be with her as long as possible the next day and I promised to pick her up for school the next morning.

“So, you think you’re going to London for spring break this year? With Mr. Cray’s English class?”

“I hope so.” She smiled. “If  I can afford to go. I would die to see Shakespeare’s Globe, or at least the tribute to his Globe.”

“Me too. Such a pity Puritan law was.”

“For apparently hating the subject so much, you seem to know a lot about its history,” she accused.

“Ah, you mistake my knowledge for interest in the history of literature, when in fact, I am truly only interested in history itself.”

“Is that so? I think that you pretend that you are not interested Elliott. I believe you like the subject and are probably superlative at it, just not as much as your sciences.”

I pulled up to her house and put the truck in park.

“What can we do to afford it?” I asked, assuming it was going to be a joint effort.

“Well, let’s see,” said Jules, “I hear they’re looking for nude models at the community college in Charleston. Maybe they’ll throw in a little Fawlty Towers, make a secret keeper out of you yet. How comfortable would you feel getting naked in front of a multitude of strangers and posing with a bowl of fruit?”

“I think I’d do alright actually, but only if they removed the pears. They make my face appear yellow and that would just throw off the whole aesthetics.” I threw a devious smile her direction. “And you miss Jacobs? Would you feel comfortable? Maybe we can invite Sawyer Tuttle. I’m sure he’d be a very willing student.”

She couldn’t say anything, desperately bit at her bottom lip to keep from giving me the smile I was asking for and shaking her head in mock disapproval.

“I mean, if you are comfortable don’t hesitate to tell me,” I continued. “You know?” I put my finger to my chin. “Come to think of it, I’ve been meaning to take up sculpting. I wonder if it’s too late to register.”

“Elliott!” She finally laughed, hitting my arm, briefly igniting our light. “I would never do anything like that, ever!”

“It would be for art Jules. It’s different. But I can see that you’re not that kind of girl,” I teased. “If you’re not into nude art I’ve got something else for you that you may go for.” I leaned in really close to her face, “My Uncle Danny said the county is looking for someone to canvas the major highways for dead animal carcasses. How does getting in my truck with me and perusing for smelly deer sound?”

“That’s disgusting. Is that a real job?”

“Of course it is Jules. What do you think happens to all those animals? We have to prevent diseases you know. Plus, it’s just unsightly.”

We smiled at each other. Then she paused and looked at me strangely.

“Wow Elliott, I must say, I’m a little affected by you.”

“To say the very least, Jules.”

When I got home, my mom was livid but my dad was too interested in what happened at practice that morning to let my mom rant anymore about the no good I was probably up to. I let her know I was at Thatcher’s with some kids from school from the time I had left until just before I got home. I told her she could check with Thatcher. While my dad asked me about my day, my mom checked my story and called Thatcher. If that woman was anything, she was diligent. I tried to keep up with my dad’s questions but couldn’t help but try to eavesdrop on my mom’s conversation with Thatcher.

Thatcher was usually pretty good at keeping the gossip to a minimum. He was a no nonsense kind of guy, but I could tell from my mom’s facial expression that he was spilling the beans and I was trying to come up with the answers to the questions that were about to barrel my way.

My mom finally clicked the phone quietly on its receiver and stood staring at the wall. My dad realized how quiet she was, hushed himself and waited for her to turn around.

“Shelby?” He finally asked.

She turned around and smiled, something I hadn’t expected.

“Mark, our boy was on a date," she said folding her arms and leaning against the counter.

He turned to me with the most serious pout on his face.

“Now. Now, Elliott. Listen to me. You don’t want to start dating now. The season’s just starting. You need to keep your grades up son,” he said, his voice teetering on hysteria.

“Oh, hush Mark. The boy’s never made anything lower than an A his entire life,” my mom said in my defense, as she sat down next to me.

“I know Shelby, that’s because we’ve kept girls out of his life. He needs to focus more than ever right now,” he said.

The desperation seeped from his pours.

“Oh, so it was you and I who kept girls out of this male teenager’s line of sight? My God Mark! We should sell our secret. We’d make millions,” she said, all the while smiling and staring at me.  “If he’s done well in school, it’s because he’s a natural. He’s a smart kid. Now, calm down sweetheart,” she winked in his direction, “So, Julia Jacobs huh? I know her mama is not gonna’ like that. Boy, her daddy won’t either. Mark, you’re going to have to invite the Jacobs to dinner,” she said over her shoulder. “Julia Jacobs? Strange. Why her baby?”

“Mom, she is not strange. She’s just different from the girls around here is all. In fact, she’s extraordinary,” I said surprisingly defensive.

“I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean it that way. She is lovely. Boy, are you protective of her already!” She laughed. “I’ve never seen you do more than look at a girl. I only meant that it was strange to see you take a sudden interest is all.”

“He’s turning into a man Shelby!” My dad said, slapping me on the shoulder. “Aren’t ya’ boy?”

He seemed proud. I guess he felt satisfied that I wouldn’t let my grades slip and mess up my football career.

“I can’t explain it actually. I never so much as glanced at Jules before the first day of school, but something happened. I’m too afraid to even talk about it for fear you’ll think me insane,” I said.

“I don’t judge. You know that,” said my mom earnestly.

And she didn’t.

“Well, I was messin’ around before class in the hall with Jesse Thomas when I saw her floatin’ down the hallway as if on some sort of revolving belt, like a bad eighties movie. I didn’t even see her feet move mom. I half expected ‘Dream Weaver’ to belt from the ceiling speakers.”

She laughed.

“But in all seriousness,” I continued, my eyes reflecting the experience, “Her eyes met mine and it made the weight of my body feel burdensome. She scared me to death during dinner when she admitted to feeling the same thing. It was as if she had read my mind. I touched her hand in class and my hand felt like it was on fire.” I left out the fireworks and the ESP. My mom didn’t judge but she wouldn’t be above committing me. “I swear I’ve never felt, seen, heard, or even read of anything like that before. I couldn’t explain it to you fully. Not even if I tried,” I paused apprehensively, “Mom? Do you? I mean, have you ever felt anything like that before? Is it normal?”

She thought about it for a moment.

“No son, I can’t say that I have,” she looked at me strangely, “but everyone feels attraction differently, I think, honey. Your daddy and I had our own little way of knowing who we were to one another that only we could distinguish.”