“You’re about to find out,” I say, and I push the accelerator to ninety. She lets out a loud cry, enjoying the speed, and her screams make me go faster. Soon we’re nearing one hundred and I can’t concentrate on anything but the road, can’t feel anything except the steering wheel on my hands and the vibrations of the motor. When Rosemary starts laughing, I begin applying the break slowly.
She lets out an aw of disappointment, turning down the radio. “Why’d you do that for?” she says, glancing over at me.
I don’t answer until we’re at fifty-five. “You’re in the car, Rosie. I’m not risking your life just for a thrill. That’s for when I’m by myself.”
“You better not,” she says, reaching over to slap me on the shoulder.
“I have my limits too, and they’re here when you’re with me.”
“Obviously,” she says grumpily.
“You’re not seriously still pissed about the whole Super Virgin thing, are you?” I ask. She doesn’t answer and I say, “Oh come on Rosie. It’s just Levi. You know he doesn’t mean it.”
“I’m tired of being the butt of every joke, Noah. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but I’m
sick
of being a virgin,” she spits. “It’s like a curse.”
“Being a virgin isn’t a bad thing, it just feels like it.”
“You can’t tell me you understand how I feel, Noah, you’ve done it already. I haven’t. You don’t remember what it’s like.”
I scowl. “I sure do. I remember what it felt like to be picked on. Called names. Made fun of, having to wonder what you’re missing.” I’m silent for a minute. “Truth be told, Rosie, you aren’t missing much.”
“Says you.”
“I’ve been there!”
“I haven’t, Noah! I hate being different from everyone else!” Tears spark in her eyes and she says, “I’m nearly twenty and I haven’t had sex. I didn’t kiss anyone until you! That’s just pathetic.”
“Sorry that you have your life together and nobody else does. You’re special. You deserve better than all that.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
“You’ve experienced all life had to offer in high school. Parties, drinking, drugs, sex, while I was in my room writing fanfiction! I totally wasted my teen years.”
I hit the brakes a little bit too hard at the stop sign. “I’m telling you that you did better than the rest of us. I’m lucky I’m still alive and not in jail right now. Do I have to remind you how much I regret all of that?”
“Only because you don’t know what it’s like to be completely innocent.”
I ignore her. “I’m not taking your virginity. Saying no is hard enough without you trying to convince me to say yes.”
“Oh really? Why?” The corners of her mouth perk up.
“Because you’re beautiful, and I’m a guy. A great girl like you is hard to resist. Now stop talking about it. I love you, but it’s not going to happen.
Fix your hair. We’re almost to your house.”
She adjusts her messy ponytail, all over the place from my recklessness. I turn carefully into her long driveway, a winding gravel road with a tiny Cape Cod resting at the end of it. Rosemary’s house sits in the middle of three big cornfields, and I’m glad that it doesn’t bother her. Being surrounded by that many tall stalks and not being able to see what’s coming freaks me out, in a way. I like things that are predictable.
“Hello Peter,” I say, parking the car and getting out to shake her stepfather’s hand. “Thanks again for inviting me.”
“You’re always welcome here, Noah,” Peter Radison says, though his warmth doesn’t fully embrace his eyes. Turning to Rosemary’s mother I give her a hug and say, “Thank you Donna. I know you worked hard on all of this. Sorry we’re late.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, and her eyes gleam just like Rosie’s do. “We’re just happy you could make it. There’s plenty of food. Help yourself.”
Rosemary and I make our way around to the back of the house. “Your dad was nice, as always,” I say, having to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“He’s just being protective,” Rosemary says. “You know why.”
I shrug, then go straight through the giant crowd of Radisons, feeling like I’m being squished as I drag Rosie through it. Typically Donna made too much food, which is wonderful. My dad, when he does cooks dinner, rarely makes enough. I give a plate to Rosemary and then start heaping giant servings of potato salad and fried chicken onto my plate. I stare at an orange foreign mass in a bowl, wondering what it is, and then decide to take some anyway.
“I don’t know if you’ll like that,” Rosemary says, staring at it.
“I’ll eat it anyway. I don’t want to hurt your mom’s feelings.” We go to sit down on the grass and Rosemary kicks off her shoes, enjoying the grass and the sunshine. It’s not too long before Levi, Michael and Michelle pop by, all with plates of their own.
“Pretty nice cookout, huh?” Levi asks, shoving a giant spoonful into his mouth. “Donna’s an amazing cook.”
Like I don’t know that. I practically live here. Whatever I don’t eat, Levi will definitely finish off. When Michelle is nearly done Michael leans over and asks, “Are you gonna eat that?”
“Touch my food and you die,” Michelle says, not even giving him a second glance. Michael drops his head and asks, “Not even a little bite of that pie?”
“I’ll shove the whole thing in your pie
hole
, and laugh,” she says.
“Well, then maybe I’ll pin you down and sit on you.”
Michelle’s eyes crinkle. “And maybe I’d like that.”
Michael’s whole face lights up. “Really?”
“No!” With her hands, Michelle takes a bit of sauce and smears it all over the side of Michael’s cheek.
“Ugh!” Michael says, standing up and holding a hand to his saucy face. “Michelle, you’re such a little kid!”
“You’re welcome. Now get out of my face,” she says, happily returning to her dinner as Michael stomps away. Rosemary and I both look at each other, smiling. Michael and Michelle are so into each other, it’s starting to get pathetic. By the mischievous look in her eye, I can already tell Rosie’s developing a plan to get them together.
“Why do you have to be so mean to him, Michelle?” Levi says, completely missing the entire point of the conversation. Michelle raises a saucy hand, and he falls quiet.
“Babe, can you go after Michael?” Rosemary asks. “His temper can get the best of him sometimes.”
Ha, yeah right. Michael can handle himself. She just wants to talk to Michelle on her own, get some inside information. Saluting her I say, “Right away, boss,” and I walk away, chuckling.
It takes seconds to find Michael. He’s pouting on the front porch, hands white on the railing with how tight he’s holding it. “Don’t break the house there, Superman,” I say as I walk up the steps to stand next to him. He glances at me and then shakes his head, his face hard as stone.
“She’s just teasing,” I say. “Don’t take it personally. It’s how she flirts.”
“She’s so hard to get to,” he says in frustration. “I don’t know what it’s going to take.”
“Keep trying,” I say, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. “She’ll crack eventually. She really, really likes you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s obvious.”
“Whatever.”
I stop before it dissolves into an argument. When Michael’s mad there’s no getting through to him. I turn away, starting to get a little pissed myself. I wish I had a cigarette, but I quit a long time ago.
“Dude,” Michael says and I turn back around, hoping for an apology. Instead I see him looking out into the crowd of people, completely still.
“What?” I ask, looking for whatever is so interesting.
“It’s him,” Michael says, gesturing his head towards a middle-aged, heavyset man rounding the house.
The minute I recognize his face my insides catch on fire. Hands balling into fists, I ask, “What the hell is he doing here?”
I go to start towards him but Michael grabs me and holds me back. “Noah, calm down. Don’t make a scene!”
“He shouldn’t be here! I’m going to throw him out before Rosemary sees!” I hiss. I struggle against Michael, but unfortunately he’s just as strong as I am.
“This isn’t your party! Let Peter take care of it,” Michael argues. I glance over and see that Peter is far away. He hasn’t even seen yet.
“He’s going to cause some trouble and I’m going to stop it.” I step off the porch and start towards the man, ready to fight if I need to.
“Rosemary’s gonna kill you,” Michael calls after me.
“She’ll thank me later. I’m not going to let her get hurt again.” I hurry towards the man but he gets to Donna first, far before I’m even close to him. He grabs Donna and spins her around, his large hands encompassing her arms.
“Marcus,” Donna says, and her eyes immediately show fear. “What are you doing here?”
Marcus laughs. “What, aren’t you happy to see
me?
I thought this was a family reunion?” He laughs even harder and begins shaking Donna. The party stops and everyone turns to watch the scene with horror, wondering what’s going on.
“You’ve been drinking again! Marcus, stop this now!” Donna demands. I’m nearly to her, running now, but it’s too late.
“Mom!” Rosemary calls and my heart sinks. Peter hears her cry and his face turns white as he sees Marcus squeezing Donna half to death, bruising her arms. Peter is closer than I am.
“Get your hands off my wife,” Peter snarls, and he lunges for Marcus. Marcus pushes Donna away from him, shoving her back into Peter’s arms and says, “Take her. I don’t know why you want a used piece of trailer trash like her.”
Nobody, not even me, sees what’s coming next. Marcus goes spinning backwards as Rosemary brings back her hand and slaps him ferociously across the cheek. The only thing you can hear is the echo of the slap, and Rosemary’s outraged gasps for breath.
“Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that,” Rosemary says, and her voice quivers. “You have no right to even look her in the eye.”
Marcus holds a hand to his cheek, shock flitting across his face. When he brings his palm away, Rosemary’s nails have caused him to bleed. When he sees the blood upon his hand he grits his teeth, pointing at Rosemary.
“You’re going to regret putting your hands on me,
girl.
”
My temper breaks. The crowd gasps as I lunge forward, grab Marcus by the arms and lift all three hundred pounds of him up, his feet dangling.
“I’m warning you now. If you ever, ever touch my girlfriend,” I say, my voice low. “There won’t be a hole you can crawl into that I won’t find you.”
I throw him down to the ground and he goes sprawling. He gets up slowly, his fat making him scramble awkwardly to his feet, the blood running rapidly down his face now. He spits on the ground, wiping the dirt off of him from my throw. “Trash, all of you,” he says before stumbling away, back to his wreck of a car to amble recklessly down the road.
“I’m calling the police,” one of the Radison’s says, and then everyone is gathering around Rosemary and Donna, asking if they’re alright. Donna’s beside herself. She’s sobbing uncontrollably, babbling nonsense to people who are probably doing more harm than good. Rosemary is telling people she’s fine, saying that she’s alright and that nothing’s wrong, but I know better. Rosemary won’t fall apart until she’s out of all the eyesight of all these people and her mother. I have to get her away before she goes completely numb, and then even shuts me out.
I cut through the crowd and go to Peter. “I’m going to get Rosie out of here,” I tell him and he nods, overwhelmed with trying to calm Donna. Wordlessly I grab Rosemary’s hand and she takes it without resistance. Michael, Michelle and Levi are all standing nearby, waiting for instruction.
“Leave us be for an hour, guys,” I tell them, and Michelle nods as she escorts the other two away, all of them muttering to each other. Rosemary is staring straight ahead, not saying anything. I bend down, pick her up in my arms and start carrying her, saying, “Come on Rosie. We’re going for a walk.”
She lays her head on my chest and I slip quietly away from the party, into the cornfields. Once I’ve carried her for about five minutes through them I turn onto a small dirt path that goes deep into the woods.
She makes no comment all this time and my worst fears have been realized. She’s too broken to cry. If I don’t find a way to make her feel better, she’ll be like this for a week, or longer. Last time she didn’t say anything to anyone for three days. “Let me see you smile,” I say, jiggling her in my arms. She looks up at me and gives a grin, but it’s only for me.
The land goes into a slant and soon I’m carrying her uphill. “Do you want me to get down?” she asks, and I’m relieved. She’s finally talking.
“Nah,” I say. “You weigh nothing. It’s so easy to carry you. Besides, I like holding you.”
A genuine smile this time, thank God. We reach our destination, the top of a mossy cliff overlooking miles upon miles of farmland, Rosie’s favorite thing in the whole world. Right below us is-
“My farmhouse,” Rosemary says, beaming. A white, falling apart piece of garbage sits in the middle of huge plots of tilled ground. For years Rosemary has been obsessed with that house.