Chapter 12

There's only one word to describe kissing someone underwater--erotic. Seriously. If I ever get the chance again, I'll willingly do it a thousand more times.

Our lips were fused together so securely that no water could penetrate the seal. Tommy and I were like two suction cups stuck together--no air. Our tongues did their own thing; there was no thought required, it was all impulse and feelings. There was a faint taste of chlorine from the pool water already on our lips after going under. We should try this is fresh water, or the ocean, even, I thought. I'm sure either of those two would taste better than this.

Still, the taste of the chlorine was overpowered by the unique flavors each of us were made of. I'm not sure what I taste like, obviously, since I can't taste myself, but I'm just going to say I'm sweet. My reasoning? I'm a chocoholic and have a major sweet tooth. But no cavities. I diligently brush my teeth twice a day.

Tommy...I could never quite determine just what he tasted like. There were so many flavors all mingling together--mint from his toothpaste, coffee (which he drank on a daily basis), spicy (probably from eating at Taco Bell), and...just him. It wasn't something recognizable; it was just him.

No matter what we tasted like, though, when brought together it was the best thing you had ever tasted. Even the best chef in the world couldn't top the deliciousness of me and Tommy--together. To be somewhat cliche-y, that underwater kiss tasted like a little bit of heaven.

Air.

Tommy's lungs must've been bursting like mine, because I couldn't stay down for a second longer--no matter how much I wanted to. Never before had I wished Tommy and I were Mer-people. Yeah, well, things change. I'd gladly trade my legs for fins if it meant endless underwater kissing.

Wait...

No legs equals no, um, other things, too.

So how do mer-people reproduce?

The world may never know.

I'll save that thought for another day, I guess, because I finally reached the surface.

With the air rushing into my lungs came a hard dose of reality and my conscience. What in the hell was I doing, kissing Tommy? Sure, it felt great--better than great, actually--but every single time we've kissed ended in disaster.

My first performance at the Vinyl Palace: I kissed Tommy. He didn't reciprocate. Very embarrassing. I tried to quit music altogether. (Obviously I changed my mind, with a little persuasion from guess who?)

My sixteenth birthday: Asshole boyfriend cheats on me. I freak out. Tommy kisses me. Tommy tells me it never happened. No more need be said.

Presenting my (revised) second complete album to Darius: Darius loved it, then left. Tommy and I suddenly found ourselves kissing each other. A couple of days later Tommy asks me out on a date. Tommy bails on said date and, more importantly, me. He came back a week later, but still.

So how was this lip lock going to end?

I really didn't want to find out, truth be told.

But hey--since when have I ever gotten what I wanted?

I stared at Tommy, breathing heavily, just like him. He stared back. I saw his lips begin to move, so I took a gulp of air and ducked back under. When I resurfaced, I was at the edge of the pool, several feet away from him. Distance was good.

From where I was at, I could see Tommy furrow his brow, most likely wondering why I swam away. Was it really not obvious? I guess so.

Levering myself out of the pool, I stood on the tile as water cascaded from my body until it was reduced to a constant drip. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my torso and looked around for a towel. Air conditioning was a great invention--except when you were soaking wet in a skimpy bikini, that is.

Tommy swam over to where I had been only moments early and rested his arms on the side of the pool. "Jude..." He began.

I cut him off, speaking in a monotone. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened."

Great, now I was stealing lines out of his book. Sort of. At least I didn't deny that it had happened. I just said it should not have happened. Tomato, tamahto.

"Why, Jude? Why shouldn't it have happened?" Tommy asked softly.

"Because," I replied lamely, refusing to look at him.

"Because why? You're eighteen--have been for months--so it's not like we're breaking the law or anything."

"Can we not do this, Tommy? It shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry it did. That's all there is to it." I countered, trying not to get fed up with his persistence.

"You're lying; you don't really mean that. There's no way anyone could regret a kiss like that." Tommy continued, still in a soft voice.

This just riled my anger--how dare he call me a liar. "Sure there is. I do regret it, so it is possible."

"Why wouldn't you ever go out with me again, Jude?" Tommy questioned suddenly. "I've asked several times in the past eleven months for us to do something together, unrelated to the studio or with music, and every time you've refused or made up some excuse. Why?"

Finally finding a towel, I patted my face dry, tactfully finding a way to not answer the question or at least stall having to reply for several seconds.

"Are you afraid I'd leave you again?" He inquired, a bit of guilt laced into his tone.

I shook my head, sending water drops flying from the ends of my hair. "No, I wasn't afraid you'd leave me. I know you wouldn't, not again."

"Then what is it? There's been this...thing between us ever since we first met. You can't deny it's been there," Tommy said when I started to protest. "Now we can finally act on it--you're 18. The studio wouldn't be happy about it, but they'd get over it. So why haven't you let us be an us?"

"Because I don't trust you," I responded, truthfully, as I stared at the floor.

I didn't see Tommy's face, but I imagined it had an incredulous look on it. He'd thought we were perfect again, like nothing was wrong--except that I wouldn't accept his romantic advances.

"I know I messed up, Jude; I've been trying, really I have. But obviously not hard enough. I don't know what would make you trust me again..." He said, sounding slightly exasperated.

"It would help if you'd tell me where you went that week." Where he had been those seven days was the key. He had to be completely honest with me before I would trust him totally again. That gaping hole was still between us, although I guess he had been oblivious to its presence. But I hadn't been.

"You know I can't tell you, Jude! I want to, so badly, but can't. It's just something you'll have to trust me on."

"I can't. I'm sorry." I said steadily, knowing I might very well be breaking the hope he had in me, as well as his heart. Nah, stupid thought. I wasn't capable of breaking Tommy's heart, although he was quite capable of breaking mine.

A period of silence passed as we each absorbed the conversation we had just shared and what everything meant. Tommy and I...we were so close, but there was a barrier thinner than a sheet of paper between us. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn't get past it. It was like we were each pushing against it, therefore pushing against each other in a stalemate. If only one of us would back down for a moment, the other could tear a hole in the barrier and get through.

But neither of us could back down.

Tommy wasn't telling me where he had been.

I couldn't overlook it, couldn't ignore it. I had to know; it was that nagging little thought in the back of my mind, the one thing that wouldn't let me let myself be happy with Tommy.

"Is that why you won't confide in me? Why you wouldn't break down and open up to me about Sadie and Stuart, because you don't trust me?" I remained silent. "Well, Jude? Is it?"

By now Tommy had gotten out of the pool and was standing a couple of feet away from me, adding more water into the puddle that I had created. "No, it's not." I commented in a voice barely above a whisper, wishing he wouldn't make us get into this.

"Then what is it!" Tommy demanded, his tone rising with every word.

I chose to ignore his anger; if he was just going to yell I didn't want to be around to hear it. I grabbed my robe off of the padded lounge chair I had lain it on earlier and walked off, not bothering to put it on.

"Stop running away, Jude."

I froze. "You think that's what I'm doing?" I asked quietly without turning around.

"Yes." He replied simply, leaving no doubt that that's exactly what he thought and I'd be hard pressed to convince him otherwise.

"Fine--maybe I am. But as long as I can still stand on my own two legs, I'll run as long and as far as I want to. You don't like it? ToughIt's my choice." I bit out, absolutely irate at all of the accusations that had been thrown my way. I am what I am, dammit!

"Oomph!" I exclaimed as the air was ejected from my lungs, leaving me breathless and temporarily dazed. I found myself lying back on the lounge chair I had previously evacuated my clothes from. Tommy was now sitting on me--yes, sitting on me--as he pinned my arms next to my head.

"What the hell, Tommy!" I screeched, struggling as valiantly as I could. It was no use; he outweighed me by at least a good sixty pounds. I definitely needed to think about taking some self-defense classes so I could actually do something in situations like this.

"Looks like you're no longer standing on your own two legs, Jude. You can't run anymore." Tommy stated quietly, staring intently down into my eyes.

"Dammit, let me go!" I screamed again as I flailed around, hoping to dislodge some of his hold on me. No luck.

"No."

Finally I stopped struggling, submitting to the fact that I wasn't going anywhere until Tommy decided I could. Instead I turned my head to the side so I was looking at the empty pool and not him.

"Please, Jude, talk to me. Tell me why you can't cry on my shoulder like you did his." Tommy didn't need to state who he was talking about; I knew. "I've seen you cry so many other times in the past--what's different now?"

How could he not see it? Why couldn't Tommy realize my reason for shoving him away, for not letting him in anymore? Couldn't he detect the resentment I felt towards him?

I felt a tear slip out of the corner of my eye and inwardly cursed. Why did I have to be so emotional? Why couldn't I be one of those people who kept everything in, who had a heart that came with a lock and key? I was sick of wearing my heart on my sleeve; it was tired of being on display and being poked and prodded and dropped and broken and abused. It wanted to run away and hide and never be found again.

"Jude." Tommy said when I didn't answer. That must've been the millionth time he'd said my name in the past two days, and for some reason I couldn't understand, it caused me to break.

"Don't you get it, Tommy? I don't want to be around you anymore. I want you to leave me alone. I wish I had never met you" I uttered harshly, hoping he would get my point and not pressure me to actually say it out loud.

Tommy looked confused, and more than a little hurt. "But why?"

"It's your fault!" I exploded, knowing in the back of my mind that it wasn't true. But it was in the back for a reason.

"What was?"

"My family being dead right now! If it wasn't for you, my music would suck and then my album would suck and I wouldn't have been nominated for the Grammy. If I hadn't been nominated, Sadie and my dad wouldn't have been on their way to the awards and they wouldn't have gotten in an accident and died! If it wasn't for you, I would've been dropped from the label afer my first album and then none of this would have ever happened. Sadie and my dad would be alive right now. I hate my music--it killed them! And you helped it!" I cried, knowing it was probably irrational to him but made perfect sense to me.

Shocked, stunned, appalled--all could be used to describe Tommy's face. Feeling his grip slacken, I managed to free my hands from his grasp and slide out from under him. He was balanced on his knees, still staring dazedly into space.

I couldn't stand it any longer.

I did what I was good at, at least according to Tommy.

I ran.

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