Holding the Sun - chapter 2

The gravel crunched under the tires as Angela and I made our way down the old road. We could hear them before we could see them. Them being the usual crowd that congregated at the farm. That’s what we called it. “The Farm.” Even though , other than the acres upon acres that it sat on, there was nothing farm about it. No animals, no barn, no tractors. Just a double wide, a pond and a bonfire. And lots and lots of hay. The farm belonged to Dave‘s parents. Dave being my kind of boyfriend. His family had owned it for as long as I could remember. It was about a forty-five minute drive from town. And was nestled back in the hills where no one could see or hear us for a few miles. Dave’s parents had bought it for a little weekend get - away. But ten years later, it was now only used by Dave and his brothers for hunting and the occasional swim. Then a few years ago everybody started partying up here. It eventually became the unofficial Friday night hang out.

I wedged my old Civic between a jacked up truck and a tree and Ang and I headed down the steep hill towards the pond. Someone had strung Christmas lights in the tree tonight, and I was pondering how in the world they had found an extension cord that long when I felt someone slip an arm around my waste. I looked up right as Dave slid his cold beer over my neck.

“Hey!” I squealed and jumped away. He laughed and walked ahead of us to the deck.

Someone handed me a Dixie cup filled with a liquid I assumed was beer and I sipped it without looking. I had just sat down on a cooler next to some other girls and we were shouting at each other to be heard. The music was so loud that I almost didn’t notice Ang when she appeared by my side. She leaned in and yelled in my ear that she was leaving with Craig. I didn’t know who Craig was but I nodded. As much as I loved my friend, flaws and all, she was hard to identify with at times. After fifteen minutes she was ready to leave with a guy she didn’t even know. After two years I could barely let Dave touch me.

Angela had grown up in a large family. Her father was from Mexico and had moved to America in the seventies. He met Angela’s mother, made a family, and moved here to Conway when Angela was the seventh grade. Ang had thought it was cruel and unusual torture at first. Her father had some unusual ideas on how to run his family. For the longest time Ang had not even been allowed to participate in any extracurricular activities. If she was not at school then she was at home with her family. So not only did she have to “rot at home,” as she called it, but she had to do it in a podunk town in Arkansas.

But as she grew a little older, her father grew a little lenient. So she grew wild…but she was still my friend and I loved her for her weaknesses as well as her strong points.

I snapped out of my reverie when the music suddenly shut off. A collective grown went up from the group and Dave went over to investigate the problem. Within seconds 3oh!3 and Ke$sha was blaring through the measly little speakers propped against the tree. Dave spotted me and weaved through the others. He was grinning when he cornered me against the coolers.

“So is my girl gonna ignore me all night or do you want to dance?”

We moved to the edge of the other dancers and moved with the beat for a while. The Christmas lights blurred in my vision as we danced. My head felt too heavy for my body, like someone had filled my ears with led and it had pooled into the space where my brain should be sitting. The contents of the half empty Dixie cup sloshed over the edge and ran down my arm. Dave grinned wickedly and raised my hand in his, bringing his face towards me. At the last second he turned and licked the liquid that was running down my arm.

Something about the image in front of me turned my stomach and I felt myself heave. My face felt absurdly hot, my vision began to fade white. I felt Dave steady me and we weaved through the dancers until we where back at my cooler in the corner. He sat down beside me and wipe sweat off my forehead with his open palm.

“Do you feel sick again? Do you want to get you back up to the house? Should I carry you?”

“No, I’m fine,” I began, “I’m not sure what was in that cup. Who brought the drinks tonight? I can get up there myself. Just find my keys for me,” I added, “please”.

“So you think I’m going to let you drive an hour to your house all by yourself?” he stood up before I could answer and returned a moment later with my keys. I reached my hand out for them but he pocketed them instead. “Come on,” he said and hoisted me up.

Neither of us spoke until we were half way back to town. “I’m so embarrassed” I finally said. My head still felt heavy and I had reclined my seat back. The cold ac felt good on my face and I sat up, leaning my elbow on the console. “Thank you .”

He shifted gears and glanced over at me. “It’s not you fault. Some ass just slipped something in your drink. That’s all.”

He looked at me again. Held his gaze. I broke it, shifting in my seat, and rested my cheek against the cool window. The bean fields blurred as we drove past them and I envisioned myself running through them, instead of belted into this damn truck. We reached the edge of town, but, instead of merging onto the freeway, he turned onto a road I had never noticed before. I sat up, but before I could question him he said, “I just want to show you something”.

His bulky truck rocked against the fallen tree limbs covering the dirt path. The road narrowed and then made a sharp left. The trees cleared and I could see a few hundred yards of a clearing. Three side of the clearing was surrounded by trees, I could see that. But the forth side just looked black. Dave drove forward slowly, glancing at me the whole way. It took a second to realize that it wasn’t just black. It was a cliff. As we got closer to the edge I could faintly make out the freeway below us. My heart quickened.

“Don’t get close, Dave, I don’t think I like this.”

“Relax, Clover. It’s like, a make out spot or something. Except I think we are the only ones that know about it.” He grinned.

“Make out spot? Nice choice of words. Besides, what is this, the fifties?”

His face fell a little but he must have decided to ignore my little jab because he scooted closer to me and raised the middle console of the truck. Reaching over, he pulled me to the middle and wrapped his arms around my back. When he pulled away his eyes were closed and he was smiling. Leaning back in, he tilted my chin and kissed me. I let him kiss me, but my eyes stayed open. Shouldn’t I be closing them? That would mean I was enjoying myself. Dave still smelled like soap, despite having been outside in the heat, and his mouth tasted like his party. I felt my stomach roll and I pulled away. He looked at me then started to lean back in but I turned my head. A look of frustration passed through his eyes and he sat up straight and moved back behind the wheel. Placing his hands on either side of the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead.

Reaching up, I pulled down my seat belt, pulled it across my lap and slid it into the buckle. I folded my hands in my lap and let out a breath. I stared at the single chip of red polish on my thumb nail. I spread my fingers across my legs and inspected each individual nail. I’d never noticed that Dave’s truck had no clock before. But sitting in the silence made me acutely aware of every passing minute.

Dave’s grunt finally broke the agony of uncomfortable silence.