A Summer Nowhere

When I was little, my daddy used to take me on beer runs whenever we were having a party, like on Memorial Day or Labor Day or the 4th of July. He'd drive his truck to the grocery store and get a few cases of Budweiser to put in the cooler at home. I used to love going on beer runs because it made me feel important. Like I had something to do. When I got a little bit older, he'd have me grab a couple of bags of ice out of the coolers outside of the store, and that made me feel even more needed. But going on a beer run at Riverfront Park was even better, because I could go and get the beer myself.

We'd only been there a couple hours and I'd gotten beer three times—not for myself, because I couldn't drink that much and I didn't even really like it, but for my friends because I could. Nobody asked for my ID. Nobody asked me anything at all. I'd just say “Can I get a Bud Light?” and they'd say “Three dollars.” and then I'd pay them and they'd say “Enjoy.” and I'd say “Thanks.” That was it. I felt like a fully functional adult.

Finally, James and I decided that our buzzes from that morning's vodka were wearing off, so we set off toward the beer garden. It wasn't too far a walk, but from the spot we'd chosen to sit, it was out of the line of vision. Before I could order, James stepped in front of me and ordered for us. He pulled out some cash and paid, handed me a cup, and led me in the opposite direction of where our friends were.

I didn't ask where were going, I just followed him like a puppy. When he stopped at an empty patch of grass and plopped right down on the ground, I did too. We were facing each other with our legs crossed Indian style and for a minute there, I thought maybe we were gonna' have one of those staring contests where if he made me laugh, he'd win and I'd lose, or vice versa.

But that wasn't what happened.

“I didn't want to upset your friend Gary.” James said.

For the first time, and I didn't know why because I basically hung on his every word, I realized that he didn't have any kind of southern accent. I'd heard all kinds of southern accents, being from Alabama. Some people sounded like hillbillies and other people sounded like southern belles, and some people sounded like they were somewhere in between. But James didn't sound southern at all. He sounded perfect.

“Why?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don't think you've upset him. He just... to be honest, he really didn't even wanna' come. I think he just did it because my mama said I couldn't go if he didn't. So it's not personal. This just really isn't his thing.”

“I think you're his thing.” James said, smiling at me like a patient teacher trying to get you to learn basic algebra.

“I am not!” I laughed.

“Well.” he said, taking a big swig of his beer and sitting it back down on the grass next to him. “I'm glad.”

I wanted to know why he was glad and I was gonna' ask him, but he leaned forward and kissed me before I could open my mouth. His lips were soft and warm and he tasted like cold beer and the gum he'd been chewing earlier. He put both hands on the ground and lifted himself a little to scoot closer. Before I knew it, his legs were stretched out on either side of me and mine were resting over his. His fingers were real gentle on my neck and I didn't even mind that I'd forgotten to breathe through my nose and felt like my brain was losing oxygen. When he started rubbing his hands back and forth from my knees to the edge of my shorts, I'd never been happier that I'd recently shaved. While his fingers roamed to everywhere respectable—my legs, my back, my hair, my face—mine stayed firmly planted on his hips, mostly because I had no idea what else to do with them.

We didn't stop until we heard people catcalling around us and then we had to laugh.

“Are you okay?” James asked when he noticed I was having trouble catching my breath. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm fine.” I promised. “Don't be sorry.”

He lifted a stray strand of my hair and put it behind my back before kissing me again, this time just a little peck on the lips, and then hopped to his feet. He took his beer in one hand and held out the other to help me up. We walked all the way back through the beer garden and across the lawn to where everybody else was. Brad was nowhere to be found—probably annoying some poor, unsuspecting girls—and Heather was on the edge of her blanket, talking to a couple of boys nearby. Chris and Sam were in a deep discussion about something that looked serious, and Gary was lying on the blanket with the bill of his baseball cap shielding his eyes from the sunshine.

As soon as we sat back down, everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at us.

“Damn.” Chris finally said after what felt like a good few minutes. “How long's it take to buy beer?”

“There was a long line.” I lied.

James nodded, playing along. “It was packed.”

“You two are horrible liars.” Sam grinned, taking the cup from my hand and chugging half of its contents.

She handed it back to me and I continued to look innocent and unaware. Gary glared over at us and adjusted his hat again. Heather went back to her conversation, and we all just sat and enjoyed what we could see of the show. After a good hour or so, Sam got bored and wanted to go up front so she could crowdsurf. I didn't want to go, mostly because I knew someone would drop me and I'd end up busting my head open, but she insisted, dragging me across the grass and up to the barricade behind the crowd. There were two security guards at the right hand entrance and neither of them gave us a second look.

“This is the best day ever!” Sam screamed over the music.

There were a good three or four hundred people huddled together in front of the stage and instead of trying to squeeze through and weave her way to the front, Sam tapped some big, bulky looking guy on the shoulder and asked if he could lift us into the crowd. He had to have been at least six foot two and about three hundred pounds. His baggy white t shirt was soaked and his jean shorts were sagging around his hips.

“No!” I shouted, shaking my head until I thought it would fall off.

“Come on!” Sam begged, bouncing up and down in that way she did when she was trying to convince me with her enthusiasm. “It's your birthday!”

“It's your birthday?” the big guy shouted, “You've gotta!”

He smelled like a mixture of beer, weed, and sweat. When I took a minute to smell the air, I realized the whole crowd smelled like weed. In the distance, closer to the stage, I saw a tiny little bit of smoke. People were passing a blunt around and I wondered if the security guards were paying attention to anything that was going on at all. Before I could protest or explain that I was heavier than I looked and didn't want to crack my skull open like a soft boiled egg, he grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up.

“Crowd surfer!” he yelled.

I landed on about four dozen open hands and, in a panic, all my limbs turned to cast iron. The crowd didn't seem to mind. I floated back and forth, like I was lying in a wave pool, and then Sam was floating next to me. She squealed like a little girl, raising her arms and making devil horns with her fingers in the air. I didn't know how to get down. Was I supposed to ask the person closest to my head to signal the others to lower me to the ground? Would they just drop me? They just kind of bounced us a few inches up into the air and we landed on our feet.

Now we were in the middle of the crowd and I was dizzy. I felt suffocated by the crowd. Also, the band that was onstage wasn't even a band I knew about. They weren't any good, they were just loud. I scolded myself for sounding like my Mama. She'd tell me that this wasn't music, it was just noise. Instead of complaining, I just kind of jumped around with the crowd, letting people bash into me. We did that for a good hour before I got exhausted. Sam didn't want to leave, but I didn't want to leave her alone in what had turned into a full on mosh pit, so I used the excuse that we were celebrating my birthday and since it was my birthday and since I wanted to go back to our spot on the lawn, she should come with me and she did.

I was soaked in sweat, but what was gross was that I was pretty sure most of it wasn't even mine. Practically falling to my knees on the blanket, I dug my deodorant out of my bag and put it on before finding some body spray and dousing myself in it.

“How was it?” James asked.

He was leaning back on his hands, his elbows straight and his legs bent so that his knees pointed straight up.

“Crazy.” I said, looking for my cup and chugging the last of the warm liquid, screwing up my face at the taste.

“Do you want a water?” he asked, sitting up and kneeling in front of me.

“I can't walk.” I breathed, pulling all my hair on top of my head in a bun.

“I'll get it.” he laughed, motioning with his hands for me to stay seated.

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“I'll go with you.” Sam offered, bouncing back onto her feet.

She gave me a wink over her shoulder as they headed off toward the beer garden. I knew what that wink meant. That wink meant that she was gonna' grill him until he was charred. She was gonna' ask him a million questions and then report back to me when we were alone.

“I don't like him.” Gary mumbled from under his hat.

This time, Chris looked back at him and asked. “Why not? He's cool.”

“Maybe he's cool.” Gary shrugged, “But I still don't like him.”

“You have no reason not to like him.” I scolded him. “What'd he do to you?”

“Nothing.” Gary admitted. “It's just a feeling. I can't get a read on him.”

“Maybe you can't read him because he's not a horse.” Chris laughed.

Gary sat up and put his hat back on, looking at us like we were disturbing his nap, even though he'd been the one to talk to us first.

“I'd like him more if he was a horse.” he said.

Brad came running up from across the lawn, the beer sloshing out of his cup. He came to a halt in front of the blanket so none of it would spill on us. He was covered in sweat and out of breath.

“Where have you been?” Heather asked, looking up and shielding her eyes with her hand.

“In the pit!” he declared. “I got knocked around so hard, I'm pretty sure my brains are scrambled.”

“Your brains were already scrambled.” Gary mumbled.

I laughed.

“Why'd y'all leave?” Brad asked me. “We were just getting started.”

I shook my head. “I don't need a concussion, thank you.”

“You're just being a big baby.” he said, plopping down next to me. “Can't even learn to drive.”

I just knew that if he brought that up one more time, I was gonna' lose it.

“I can teach you how to drive.” Gary offered.

I didn't even want to think about driving.

“You can drive home.” Gary said, looking confident in his abilities as an instructor.

“No.” I shook my head. “I don't think driving's for me.”

“How are you gonna' get around?” Chris laughed. “Take a cab everywhere?”

“Are there even cabs in Russellville?” Gary wondered aloud.

“I'll move if I have to.” I promised. “Or I'll just get a job where I can take a limo everywhere. Or I'll join the city council or something and get a public bus going.”

“Nobody's gonna' ride a bus.” Chris laughed.

“I can teach you how to drive.” Gary repeated, shaking his head.

Just talking about getting behind the wheel of a car was giving me anxiety.

“Can we talk about something else?” I asked. “Anything else.”

“What is taking them so long?” Chris asked no one in particular.

Just as soon as he'd asked, we looked over to find Sam walking back towards us with two bottles of water in one hand and two bottles in the other. James was trailing behind, holding more water, unable to keep up with Sam's long legs. She was still grinning like an idiot when she sat down and when she looked at me, she giggled a little bit.

What the hell was she up to?

“Here you go.” James offered, twisting the cap off a water bottle and handing to me.

It was nice and cold and I felt a hundred times better as soon as I took a sip.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“No problem.” he grinned.

I swooned a little bit looking at those perfect teeth of his and had to stop myself when I imagined them on me. Every romance novel you ever read mentions something about a guy nibbling on your ear. If I thought about it for too long, I'd have to bathe in the water instead of drinking it. I tried to make myself look away from him, but when I looked back, he was staring at me, still smiling.

“What?” I blushed.

“Nothing.” he shrugged. “I'm just wondering what you're thinking about.”

“Oh.” I mumbled, trying to think of something quick. “I was just thinking about how bad this band is.”

“Yeah, they're pretty bad.” he agreed. “You ready to walk yet?”

“I think so.” I nodded.

We ended up taking a stroll around the whole park, holding hands on and off, and just having little chats about anything and everything. The sun started to go down and we heard the General Jackson coming up the river. It was a showboat that people paid to ride on. They had dinner and drinks and live music. It was big and bright and it seemed like it was just a few inches away, like you could reach out and touch it. Country music blared from the river, almost drowning out the music from the band that was onstage.

By the time we walked back around the park, there were only a couple of bands left to perform and I didn't think either of us cared about the show anymore. My legs were killing me, but I didn't complain because I was having too good a time. James stopped me a few yards away from where we'd been sitting.

“I'm glad we got to hang out alone.” he said, reaching for both of my hands.

He held them out to our sides and leaned forward to kiss me. My knees were already wobbly from all that walking, and they wobbled even more then. I felt like running my fingers through his hair, but he kept my hands in his and that felt too nice for me to try and move them. Heather, Sam, and Chris were whooping and hollering from behind us and James pulled away just a little bit.

“I think they approve.” he laughed.

“I think so, too.” I told him. “But I don't care whether they approve or not.”

“Good.” he nodded. “Me neither.”

When we finally got all packed up and back to the truck, Gary was so grumpy that he made Heather sit in the back with everybody else because he said he'd gotten his fill of social interaction for the day and wanted to be alone. I think mostly, though, he didn't wanna' ride all the way back to Russellville with her jabbering in his ear. She'd barely shut up since she'd woken up that morning.

I ended up crawling across the foam padding in the bed of the truck and leaning against the back wall, limp like Raggedy Ann. First I stretched my legs out while I could, then when everybody else piled in, I crossed them Indian style to get them out of the way.

“Here.” James leaned close, placing one hand on each of my upper thighs and digging his thumbs into the sore muscles.

My skin broke out all over in goosebumps and I know he noticed, because he let out one of those soft little laughs that I'd come to find he used when something slightly amused him. My muscles relaxed pretty quick and I thanked him for the help.

“No problem.” he nodded, tapping the tip of my nose with the tip of his index finger. “You got some sun today.”

“Am I burnt?” I asked, immediately running my finger down the bridge of my nose to see if it hurt.

“No.” he laughed. “But you've got some really adorable freckles.”

I groaned. “I hate them.”

“Why?” he asked, looking shocked. “They're cute.”

I blushed and shook my head. “You've got a weird definition of what cute is.”

“Nah.” He argued. “I know cute when I see it.”

“Y'all need to get a room.” Brad complained from the other side of the truck.

“I told you he was a jerk.” I whispered.

“I heard that.” Brad argued.

“Good.” I shot back.

“He's into you.” James whispered.

“Gross.” I scrunched up my nose. “I think he's into anything with a pulse.”

“No, really.” he laughed. “You know how when you're little and boys are mean to you on the playground because they like you?”

“I think Sam said that very same thing.” I groaned.

“Well, she's pretty smart.” James shrugged.

“She says that, too.” I laughed.

Sam said she felt like reliving some of the good parts of her childhood and couldn't think of anything better to do on the ride, so she insisted we play a round of some game she, Lynn, and Jenny used to play whenever they were moving from one place to another. You had to say “I'm riding on the Soul Train, and I'm bringing...” and everyone would go down the alphabet and name some kind of food. Brad was the absolute worst, and when he landed on the letter Q, he gave up and after a couple more letters, so did we.

Traffic out of Nashville had been crazy because of the concert and several other events there in town. By the time we got back to Russellville, it was a little after midnight. I felt like I could pass out, but I knew I wouldn't be able to. Even though we'd agreed to stay at my house because there was more room, we still had to stop at Sam's so that Gary and James could get their own vehicles.

“You should stay. Jobie's mom is cool.” Chris told James, even though he was looking at me with one of those shit eating grins. “It's bad to drink and drive. Right, Jobie?”

“It is bad to drink and drive.” I agreed, thinking that no, Mama would not be cool. “But I think it's been long enough since you've had a drink.”

“I'd love to stay.” James said. “But my parents would kill me.”

It felt so good to climb out of that truck and stretch my legs. My thighs and calves were still sore from walking through the park with James, but it felt much better to stand than it did to sit. All the window's in the front of Sam's house were dark, and the moon was hidden by clouds, so we could barely see anything. Finally, James felt his way to his car and opened the door so that we could see with the interior light. I could hear Gary grumbling about how it was the one time he didn't have a flashlight with him.

“I had a blast today.” James told me, leaning against the driver's side of his car.

“Me, too.” I nodded, not knowing what else to say. “It was fun.”

“It was.” he said, mimicking me by bobbing his head up and down. “I should take you on a real date some time.”

“Oh.” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up. I tried my best not to grin like an idiot now that he could actually see my face. “Okay.”

“How about we go grab dinner on Friday night?” he asked. “A belated birthday celebration to go with the early one.”

I laughed, nodding my head some more. “That sounds nice.”

“Nice.” he repeated.

Instead of leaning toward me, he pulled me closer so that I was leaning against him. I knew it was only maybe the third or fourth or fifth time it had happened that day, but I didn't think I'd ever get tired of kissing him. His mouth was soft and warm and he wasn't pushy or overly excited. Everything about him was just mellow and chilled out. If it wasn't for the fact that my heart started pounding and butterflies started zooming around in my stomach, kissing James might have been relaxing.

He leaned into his car and grabbed some kind of receipt and an ink pen.

“I'm gonna' need to call you.” he laughed, turning around so I could use his back as a surface to write my phone number.

After he drove off, I turned around to find Gary standing by his truck, his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking at me like he'd forgotten to say something.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” he shrugged his shoulders, opening his driver's side door. “Let me know when you're ready.”

I helped Sam carry all her stuff into the house, being as quiet as humanly possible, and waited for her to grab a change of clothes. I climbed into the front seat of Gary's truck while everybody else got into the back, and he was sitting there in silence.

“What's wrong with you?” I asked him, buckling my seat belt even though the ride was gonna' be less than a minute long.

“Nothing.” he said, keeping his eyes on the windshield.

I knew he was lying because it was clear as day that he was irritated about something. I wondered if he was just tired from the trip. He hadn't really wanted to go in the first place and then I realized that I'd never even thanked him for coming along and playing chauffeur.

“Hey.” I said.

“I said I'm fine, Jobie.” he grumbled.

“I know.” I said, rolling my eyes at him. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For taking us to Nashville.” I reminded him. “I had fun.”

I could see his muscles relaxing, but he still looked cranky.

“No problem.” he mumbled. “Anything for you.”

“You're the best.” I grinned, patting him on the shoulder when he pulled up in my driveway. “Are you coming in?”

“No thanks.” he shook his head, giving me a weak smile. “I'm going home.”

“Okay.” I said. “Night.”

Sam took my arm when she jumped out of the back of the truck, holding me back from going inside so that Heather and Brad made it to the front door first.

“I think you've broken his heart.” she smiled, kind of sadly.

“You're so full of it.” I glared at her. “You know that?”

“I don't think I am.” she argued, shaking her head. “I think he's wounded.”

“He's not wounded. He's fine.” I insisted. “He's just cranky.”

She didn't say anything else about it, even though I could tell she wanted to. Mama woke up when we came in the house, even though we'd been as quiet as we could. She said she was only half asleep because she was a mother hen, waiting for all her chicks to be home safe and sound. Then she made sure we ate.

“This was probably the best day ever.” Sam yawned, rolling over to face me from her spot next to me in my bed.

I bobbed my head up and down, her yawn making me yawn, too.

“Best birthday present ever.” I agreed.