Kele Moon - Crossing the line

Tabitha’s gaze darted to the ceiling uncertainly. Things were nice now, but she had so many issues Wyatt didn’t know about. “Wy—”

“I know you had plenty of good reasons to end us,” Wyatt started, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t think I don’t take at least half the blame, but you’re here now, and I think you owe it to what we were to give us more time.”

“I can’t live in Garnet,” she said in anguish. “I’m not staying.”

“And I’m not asking you to.” It was a harsh reminder that neither of them might be able to recover from what leaving had done to a love that was once beautiful and perfect. His light eyes narrowed as he studied her. “But I am telling you I need more than one afternoon with my wife who’s been MIA for the past thirteen years. I got a big house all to myself with a whole lot of empty rooms. Makes no sense for you to be renting this place from Terry. You can stay with me till you get everything settled with your mother.”

“We can’t just—”

“We sure as heck can.” Wyatt cut her off. “And I ain’t taking no for an answer.”

When Tabitha would’ve argued again, Wyatt kissed her. She’d like to think she was a strong, independent woman who wasn’t prone to being swayed by his cavemannish tactics to persuade her, but the truth was she wanted more time too.

They’d lost too much, too soon, and a little more time was too tempting to resist.

It was foolish and impractical and likely dangerous as hell for both of them, but then, Wyatt had always been the one to make Tabitha believe in the impossible.

Still connected like they were, she could feel him get harder as they kissed, reminding her of sweaty nights a long time ago when they could stay wrapped up in each other for hours. His lips became softer, less demanding as his hips started moving in her a second time, and everything became enveloped in the misty memories of the past when youth made them invincible and love made them courageous to the point of stupidity.

Every story had an innocent beginning, even theirs, and Tabitha found herself wishing she had a chance to go back and relive it one more time, because she didn’t want to let go any more than Wyatt did.

September 1986

Wyatt Conner loved red hair. He liked the way it shone in the early-morning sun, like the brightest, newest kind of penny. He liked freckles too. He found himself wanting to spend a day trying to count all of them sprinkled over one pert, slightly upturned nose.

Wyatt pressed his face to the window, stretching the seat belt.

“Stop it.” Wyatt’s sister Jules punched his arm. “You’re making it pinch me.”

Wyatt stayed where he was. “Good.”

“Daddy!” Her voice was shrill enough to make Wyatt wince. “He’s making the belt pinch me.”

“Boy, sit up straight.” His father reached around Jules and lightly smacked the back of Wyatt’s head for good measure. Then he turned back to his police radio and pushed the button on the mic. “Sorry, the twins are fighting again. Go on.”

The police radio crackled with the voice of Deputy Henry Caraway, properly distracting their father. Wyatt sent a scowl at his sister, but she just gave him a smug smile before she worked on straightening her headband and then ran her fingers through her long blonde hair.

“I hate you,” Wyatt told her matter-of-factly.

Unfazed, Jules stuck her tongue out at him.

“Dang it, lemme call ya back once the school opens up.” His father hung the microphone back on the police radio mounted on the dash. Then he turned to glare at Jules. “Ladies aren’t supposed to be letting their tongues hang out like that. What would your mama think if she just happened to be looking down from heaven? On the first day of school, don’t think she ain’t watching.”

Jules glanced up at their father with big blue eyes that shone with false innocence. “I didn’t.”

“Juliet Emma Conner. I saw you with the eyes God gave me.”

“I had something on my teeth. I’m just trying to look good for the first day of school.”

Their father frowned, his dark eyebrows scrunching together in disbelief. “You’re saying you weren’t just starting something with your brother?”

Jules blinked, still maintaining a look of perfect righteousness. “I give ya my word, Daddy.”

Wyatt snorted in disbelief. If his father fell for that, he’d put himself up for adoption.

“Well, seeing how Conners know better than to lie.” Their father leaned down, looking at Jules critically. “Lemme see your teeth. Can’t be showing up a mess for your new teacher.”

Jules beamed, showing off a sparking smile that smelled like mint toothpaste.

Wyatt thought he might lose his breakfast.

“Pretty as a penny,” their father announced as he leaned down and kissed the top of Jules’s head. “You look just like your mama in that color blue.”

Jules preened and smoothed out her new dress that she’d been anticipating wearing for the past three weeks. “Thank you.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. He stared at the kids sitting on the benches outside the building waiting for the doors to open. Most of them were the bused kids who got free breakfast. Their clothes weren’t pressed and new like Wyatt and Jules were wearing.

Speaking of pretty pennies.

He studied Tabitha McMillen, who was sitting next to that big oaf Clay Powers. She had a book in her hands, and her head was bowed as she read intently. Her long hair hung shiny and loose past her shoulders. Unlike Jules, who always wore something in her hair, Tabitha never had any fancy headbands or bows. It was just that bright, glimmering red that actually sparkled in the sunshine.

“Daddy, he’s making the belt pinch me again.”

Wyatt huffed and turned to his father. “Can’t we just go and sit with the bused kids?”

“Naw, ain’t fitting to just dump you off on the first day of school. I was gonna walk ya to class.”

“We’re in third grade now,” Wyatt said it with authority, because third grade felt like an accomplishment. It seemed so much older than second, and he was as excited to be going back to school as Jules, though maybe not the same reasons. “We’re okay.”

“We are okay,” Jules agreed very diplomatically. “We know how to get to Miss Hatly’s class, and we got all our things.”

“I guess.” He shrugged, making it obvious he was anxious to get to work. “Your grandpa has been working a long night shift. I know he’s beat.”

Wyatt opened the door, desperate to get out of the police jeep and put some distance between him and Jules. If they sat him next to her for another school year, he’d lose his mind. Why’d everyone think he wanted to spend every waking moment with his sister?

Jules pinched him when he tried to jump out. “The belt, dummy.”

“Dang it.” Wyatt struggled to get the belt undone. When he did, it snapped back, hitting Jules in the hip. “Sorry.”

Jules huffed. “No, you ain’t.”

Wyatt jumped free of his father’s reach and announced, “You’re right, I ain’t.”

“Wyatt!”

He took off, pretending not to hear the reprimand. His father had to go straight to work, and after a long shift, he’d be so darn tired he’d forget he was mad by dinner. Wyatt was free for the rest of the day. Grandpa Charlie wasn’t nearly so inclined toward Jules’s charms, and he was the one who picked them up after school.

Wyatt was finally back in school, instead of stuck spending his spare time hanging around the sheriff’s office with only Jules for company—life was good.

He made a beeline toward the bused kids, taking a moment to run a hand through his hair. He approached the benches, throwing out his chest like his father did at the station. He wasn’t real sure why, but he was pretty sure it was supposed to make people respect you.

This was a new year. He was in third grade. It was time to be bold.

He grinned at Tabitha. “Hey.”

She didn’t seem to notice him, and Wyatt got the distinct impression it was Clay Powers’s cough under his breath that sounded distinctly like piglet that had her glancing up from her book. When she did, her brown eyes grew wide in shock.

“Yes?”

Wyatt was fighting down the urge to punch Clay, so his voice was tense as he tilted his head to the bench. “Y’all don’t mind if I sit there, do ya?”

“Oh.” Tabitha looked at the bench between her and Clay, where her worn-out backpack rested. “’Suppose not.”

Clay brushed away his bangs that were so long they covered his eyes, and then gave her a look of horror. “No way.”

Wyatt arched a challenging eyebrow at Clay. “It speaks. Next it’ll get a haircut. Your hair’s as long as my sister’s, Powers.”

“Fuck you, piglet,” Clay said in slow, concise words. “Seat’s taken.”

Wyatt took a threatening step toward him.

“Here,” Tabitha said quickly as she grabbed her bag and threw it on the ground and then scooted up next to Clay, making room at the end of the bench. “Room right there.”

It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. He sat next to Tabitha, flashing her a smile. “So what’d you do for summer?”

Tabitha looked over at him uncertainly. “Nothing.”

“That’s cool.” Wyatt nodded, doing his level best to pretend Clay Powers didn’t exist, and he wasn’t seeing Tabitha practically crawling on top of him to keep her distance. “Well, I got my purple belt last month. The folks at the rec center say they ain’t never seen a guy as young as me get it. I reckon I’ll have my black belt before sixth grade.” He glanced back at her, looking for recognition on something he considered a big accomplishment. Tabitha just stared at him blankly, making Wyatt feel like he was speaking Japanese. “In karate,” he clarified. “Like Bruce Lee. I’ll be as good as him.”

“Oh.” Tabitha gave him a half smile of encouragement. “Great.”

Wyatt grinned, thinking he was doing an excellent job of impressing her. He was just about to tell her about peewee football season starting up when a shadow was cast over his good morning.

“You forgot your bag.” Jules made a point to drop his bag, causing his lunch box to make a reverberating clash when it hit the ground. “And it ain’t like you’re the only one to move up. I got my purple belt this summer too.”

“Yeah, after I got it,” Wyatt reminded her. “I was first.”

Jules huffed, looking unimpressed. “By an hour. Big deal.”

“Jules!” A group of girls squealed from other end of the bench. They jumped up, waving for her because everyone seemed to want to be Jules’s friend. “Come sit with us.”

“Hey, y’all.” Jules waved back, smiling enthusiastically as she left Wyatt without a backward glance.

Wyatt scratched at the back of his neck as Jules walked off. “I’m pretty sure our sensei goes easy on her ’cause she’s a girl.”

Wyatt turned back when he didn’t get a response, finding that Tabitha was reading again and Clay was casting him long, angry glares, making it obvious he was very unwelcome. Wyatt grabbed his backpack to cover the silence. His lunch box had opened when Jules dropped it, and he made quiet work of putting everything back in. He liked lunch. It was his favorite part of the school day.

He glanced up when he sensed Tabitha looking at him. He followed her line of sight, seeing that she was eyeing the cookies in his hand. Thinking quick, he offered them to her. “You want ’em?”

“Really?” Tabitha’s eyes widened. She turned to Clay, and the two of them had a strange sort of silent exchange, because his eyes were wide too. Then she turned back to Wyatt. “Ain’t ya gonna miss ’em?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Naw.”

“But I ain’t got anything to trade, and—”

Wyatt frowned when Clay cut her off by kicking her foot. He was just about to say something when Tabitha snatched the small stack of cookies wrapped in cellophane out of his hand.

“Thank you.” She held them close to her chest, sort of reminding Wyatt of the way Jules used to hold her baby dolls when she was younger.

Weird.

“Wyatt!”

He turned to see Greg and Doug Hart walk up with identical smiles of excitement and matching new haircuts. The only way someone could tell them apart was Greg always wore blue, whereas Doug had to own at least thirty green shirts. Wyatt thought their mother did that on purpose, but he didn’t ask or make fun like the other kids. He was hypersensitive to twin things and felt sort of fortunate there was another set in their grade, even if they were always in the other class. Wyatt supposed one set of twins per classroom was enough.