The Scammer - 26

The sun seems to beam directly into Nick’s room.

A text dings. I lean up too quick, my head spinning. That damn moonshine.

Unknown number: Remember to stay strong this Black Friday. Do not fall victim to capitalism.

That’s right. It is Black Friday. Usually, Mom and I would have big shopping plans at the outlets, then end the day at our

favorite Italian restaurant with cheesecake. It was tradition. I wonder if she’s thinking of me now. They didn’t even call

or return my text.

It must be Devonte sending these random texts. Mr. “I don’t believe in phones” must have one after all. This is probably the

longest I’ve gone without thinking of him in months. Most food I’ve had too.

Just the thought reminds me of our takeaway plates downstairs, calling my name. I lick my lips at just the thought of eating a slice of Anita’s sweet corn bread with my morning tea.

I slip on Nick’s sweatshirt and tiptoe downstairs. Nick is in the kitchen, facing the windows, mind so far away he doesn’t

hear me coming.

“Hey,” I say, unsure of how to act around him. Especially after last night. “Are you . . . okay?”

He sips his coffee without looking up.

“Get dressed. Something you don’t mind getting wet. There’s something I want to show you.”

Guess Nick is accustomed to moonshine. While he floats around the house, I’m still woozy and sluggish. Once dressed, we walk

out into the backyard, heading for the river.

I didn’t have many clothes to bring so I settled on some leggings and one of Nick’s sweatshirts with Loren’s sneakers. The

sight of their laces makes my heart crack. I wonder what the girls are doing. It didn’t seem like anyone was heading home

for the holiday.

I put thoughts of them aside and refocus. “Okay, so where are we going?”

“Here,” he says, pointing to the dock. At the end, bobbing in the water, is a purple-and-black Jet Ski. The moment I see it,

I stop walking.

“We’re going Jet Skiing?”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, come on, I want to show you something.”

He grabs my wrist and tugs us forward.

“Uh, seriously? I can’t get on that thing!”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of water.”

“No. It’s just . . .” I cringe, embarrassed of my thought before saying it out loud. “I . . . really don’t want my hair to

get wet.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to fall in. Trust me, I’ll be very careful,” he says, as he slips a life jacket around

my back, smirking as he tightens the straps.

Can I trust him? I’m not so sure. He’s been so aloof. Sometimes, I don’t even think I really know who he is and why he kept

this part of himself a secret. But as he finishes strapping me in, eyes full of light and a touch of lust, I decide to be

brave.

He pulls a scarf out of his back pocket.

“Just put your hair up in a bun, tie this around it.”

I groan. “Okayyyy.”

With my hair all done, we climb down onto the Jet Ski.

I press myself against his back and rope my arms around his stomach, squeezing my legs against him. The chemistry thickens

around us. His head jerks up; he must be feeling it too.

He glances over his shoulder at me, cheeks reddening. Is he nervous?

“Wow,” he mumbles, searching my face, and I want to kiss him. It was all I wanted to do since last night.

“Okay. Let’s go,” he says, easing away from the dock, towing out into the open water. “Hold on tight; once we get going, the

water can be a little rocky. Be ready.”

I squeeze him a little tighter.

“Careful,” he chides. “You ready?”

Giggling, I nod.

The engine revs up and we take off, flying across the water, jumping over the small rip waves. He makes a quick turn in, spinning

us around in a circle, and I shriek.

“Hold on!”

He revs the engine again and we sputter before taking off faster. I dig my face into his shoulder, staring at the passing

houses lining the river, the thick trees, the lush woods, and the speedboats headed in the opposite direction. I feel myself

springing back to life, the smell of the water, the wind hitting my face, holding tight to his hard stomach. We head south,

going faster and faster over the rough waves. Suddenly he stops and we bob like a buoy. He glances over his shoulder, catching

his breath, and grins.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

Nick makes a sharp turn, heading toward the wooded riverbank. He slows to a creep, the engine silencing to a purr.

“Duck your head,” he says.

“Huh?”

Then he drives straight into the brush. I thought we would crash right into the shore but I see a small opening, hidden in the thick vines you would never notice unless you were up close. He uses his arm to lift some branches out of the way and I duck as we drive under. Once through, the water opens up to a beautiful cove. He drives to the middle of it and turns off the engine. We sit in silence, giving me a chance to take it all in. The sun dancing off the dark crisp water, beating on our shoulders, the lush tall trees hiding us away. A chilly breeze combs through Nick’s hair.

“Wow, this is beauti—”

“Shhhhhh! Wait.”

I listen to the birds chirping and insects buzzing around us. Nick scans the riverbank intensely, searching for something.

“Nick, what are we—”

“Shhh,” he whispers then sits up straighter. “There! Over there, look.”

He points to the trees in the distance. I squint, ears picking up rustling coming from the bushes until a small deer emerges

from the wood, cautiously taking a step to drink some water. Nick looks over his shoulder with a triumphant grin.

“Bambi,” he says, softly. “Not as beautiful as my Bambi.”

I gush, burying my face in his back. He grips my hands, unhooking them from his stomach, then places them on either side of

the Jet Ski.

“Hold still. Don’t move.”

Quickly, he hovers up and swings his leg around and sits back down so he is facing me. I grip the sides of the seat to keep steady. He grins with that charming all-American-boy smile and slides his hands around my waist, scooting me up onto his lap. I freeze, afraid of falling over, but he holds me tight. His palm cups my face, thumb gliding across my lips. He leans up, searching my eyes, as if waiting for permission, then falls into my lips.

The kiss is deep, purposeful, perfect. The kind of kiss that you never want to end.

He releases my lips with a smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that . . . for a long time,” he breathes, still searching my face.

This is a different Nick. An overwhelming Nick. A sober Nick. Which feels so much better than the Nick I would’ve experienced

last night. I bite my lip, holding in the urge to attack him. He smiles, then leans back on the Jet Ski handles.

“Okay, so you wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”

“What? Seriously,” I gasp.

“You said you wanted to know everything. Well, now, here we are. Alone. And I’m giving you what you want.”

I scoff, pointing over his head.

“You sure you don’t mind Bambi knowing your business? I know how secretive you can be.”

He shrugs. “Bambi’s cool. Think she’s too afraid to be my dinner.”

“Do you really eat deer?”

“Hey, it’s the other white meat.”

“Gross.”

He laughs. “How is eating Bambi gross but not cows?”

“Cows don’t have first names.”

He laughs, his hands gripping my back. “I love your ridiculous logic.”

My laughter slowly dies down, bravery taking over. “Why didn’t you want to tell me about Ashley?”

His eyes flicker away, arms tightening. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. Talking about it . . . is re-traumatizing. It happened

two years ago, and in a small town like this, you never forget it. No one lets you forget. I’m always ‘the boy whose girlfriend

got murdered in his front yard.’ Or ‘the boy whose rich parents let a Black family raise him.’”

“I know, says ‘the girl whose brother killed himself in his dorm room.’”

He gives me a sympathetic smile. “But at Frazier, I thought I could just start over. Leave the past behind me.”

“And never date again? You know that’s not realistic.”

He rubs a hand back and forth over his thigh.

“Remember when we talked about the five stages of grief? Sometimes I think I’m stuck in the bargaining phase. Like, if I stay

alone, then maybe no one will ever get hurt again being with me and maybe I can finally forgive myself.”

I shake my head. “That’s not how it works.”

“I know,” he admits with a shrug. “But never kept me from trying.”

That he does. He always tries. This moment seems too perfect for me to touch with my fears. I don’t want it to. But I want to feel safe and loved. I want Nick but I’m afraid of losing him. I’ve lost so much already. The girls. Kevin. Can I chance losing Nick too?

“You think you could try another way . . . with me?”

He stares for a moment. Then without warning, he cups my cheek. An electric shock pulses through my body, the hairs on my

arm skyrocketing and muscles below my stomach I didn’t even know existed tightening. I meet his gaze forgetting how to breathe

as the pad of his thumb rubs my collarbone.

He smiles. “I would like that . . . very much.”

Nick is a good kisser.

We kissed on the Jet Ski, on the dock, against the back door, on the kitchen counter, by the stair banister. There’s a desperation

in his kiss, a ravenous hunger. Before I know what we are doing, we’re kissing our way down the hallway, toward his room . . .

toward his bed.

We stop in the middle of his room and I break away, just to catch my breath. But in that short second, his body locks stiff.

He stares out his window and, in an instant, his eyes grow wide, pupils dilated, as if he was watching it happen all over

again. He spins away with a stumble, holding the door frame to keep from falling. I step into the hall, into his line of sight,

and rub his arms, consoling him.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes tight. I’ve never seen him so pale and shaken. He tries to breathe through the panic, wheezing up air.

“What . . . happened?”

White-knuckling the door, he looks down at me, and I can see he’s questioning himself but pushes through.

“Ashley and I had been friends since kindergarten. I always had a little crush on her. She didn’t pay me the time of day.

During our freshman year, she met this senior at our rival school. Eric. He was intense. Used to rough her up bad. I didn’t

know until one day, after school, I caught him slapping her.

“I convinced her to just leave him. To break up with him. And she did. But he didn’t take it well. I said, he’ll get the hint.

He didn’t. Stalked her at school, at work, even fucked up my car. Anita said that I should go to the police but . . . I didn’t

want to be some rich white kid reporting a Black guy. He just turned eighteen. An adult.

“One night, she was in her car, and he was following her. She called me and I told her to just come to my house. I was in

my room when she pulled up, and as soon as she got out of the car, he shot her. The sound was so . . .” He shudders. “I thought

he was just being a dick. But that look in his eye . . . I’ll never forget it. I should have taken it seriously. I should

have told her to drive straight to the police station, not to my house. If she did, maybe she would still be alive. My parents

reminded me of that after the funeral.”

I realize I’ve been holding a hand to my mouth, riveted. So much about him makes sense now. I inch closer and hold his face between my palms.

“Nick. It’s not your fault. You didn’t kill her.”

He takes a deep breath. “So that’s it. That’s my story. You know everything now. And now you know . . . why I can’t do this.”

I blink. “What?”

“I don’t think I can do this, Jordyn. I can’t go through something like that again. It almost killed me.”

“But you just . . . you said . . . and today.” I huff, with a stomp. “You can’t keep on changing your mind like this. It isn’t

fair!”

Even as I say it, I know it’s an unrealistic expectation to put on him. But how could he expect me to react any other way?

Nick’s hands clench, his face a war of emotions. “Don’t you know how freaked out I am, having feelings for you? I haven’t

felt like this in a long time. Don’t you think I want to be with you?”

“You can if you really wanted,” I snap.

He stabs at his chest. “What’d you want me to do? Just get over it? It’s not that simple.”

Hearing the words I said to Jack just a few weeks ago is like a splash of freezing cold water to the face.

I sigh, shoulders sagging. “I know. Believe me, no one knows you don’t just get over it more than me.”

His brows wrinkle as he stoops to eye level. “I’m not ready, Jordyn. I’m sorry.”

My heart cracks once more with a loud clink, knowing there’s nothing I can say to change his mind just like there’s nothing anyone can say to change my mind about Kevin.

I step back with a nod. “Yeah. I understand.”