Page 4 of Wild Child
He pulled me a little closer. I closed my eyes as we moved together, breathing in his scent. I’d hate myself for it later, even as the gentle hint of pine lifted from his skin. We’d gone on a hike before he left to pick up Cassidy. I could still smell traces of the outdoors on him.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, and I knew he meant for coming. For braving a crowd with hidden alcohol that made me extremely uncomfortable. For venturing out in a dress, with my hair freshly washed and straightened. For being here with him in this transitory moment, even though I didn’t have to be. I should have been flattered, but instead, I felt scared. His breath was hot on my neck and sent a shiver down my spine.
“Always,” I whispered.
His hold on me tightened. My temple pressed to his jaw. Could he feel my heartbeat? Did he sense how breathless this made me?
“There’s something I wanted to tell you tonight,” he said.
His voice turned down slightly. With the music still blaring around us, it was almost imperceptible. I thought I imagined it, but then his palm turned clammy against mine.
“What’s that?” I asked. My voice was a rasp, but he didn’t seem to notice. The slow song shuffled into another one.
“I, uh, received some news earlier today. Good news, but it will surprise you. Maybe not really news. More of a confirmed decision?”
He became a rigid board around me as he rambled around a blind topic. He paused for a beat, then plowed forward before I could tell him to just spit it out already. “I enlisted, Ellie. I’ve joined the Marines. I leave for San Diego in two weeks. Two days after I graduate.”
I blinked, fuzzy with the sense of impending doom. Of everything about to change. Of the world sliding away from me like a mudflow. I didn’t even have to speak.
We were too close together for me to see him, but I didn’t need to. The steadiness of his voice, slightly hushed around the edges, let me know he was scared. Scared of what I’d say. How I’d react. We stopped dancing somewhere near the edge of the gymnasium, not far from a bright green EXIT sign.
I’ve joined the Marines.
It echoed through my mind with undulations. For half a breath, I almost laughed. Told him that it was a funny joke and the timing was poor, but the rigid way he held me in his arms—almost like he didn’twantto see my face—told me this wasn’t a joke.
He had joined the Marines.
“What?”
“Ellie, let me explain before you run off, okay? It’s . . . it’s the money. I can’t afford to go to college, even if I stay home for nine months and work and save it all. The scholarship I was hoping for didn’t come through.”
While he continued to explain, the words filtered through my mind.GI Billandno stress about finances nowandwe’ll be okayvaguely occurred to me. My mind narrowed into a fuzzy tunnel of thoughts that all revolved around one tiny phrase that whispered through my thoughts in Mama’s voice.
They always leave.
Heart thumping, I pulled away. A panicked expression filled his face, but I didn’t look right at him.
“I-I need to go.”
Before he could protest, I headed toward the glowing sign and pushed through the heavy doors. It spilled me into the parking lot, and the cool air from late spring shocked me out of the tunnel. Out of the questions.
My movement felt clumsy as I stumbled toward the truck. The sound of the wind outside too loud. The sense of shock at the cooler air too dramatic on my skin. Behind me, the door slammed open against the wall, then wheezed closed again. Footsteps ran to me.
“Ellie!”
He reached for me, but I moved my arm too fast. Livid, I whirled around to face him. This time, I looked him right in the eyes.
“How long have you had this planned?”
He faltered for only a moment. “Since last summer.”
“Last summer?” I cried. “That’s over a year.”
Uneasy now, he nodded.
“Last summer is when we started talking about going to the state university together. When wetouredit together. Do you remember that? Do you remember us discussing plans and talking this out and you agreeing?”
He shifted. “Ellie—”
