Girl By Any Other Name Read online

  She shook her head in disbelief and let out that cynical Sylvie laugh. “Have you gone mental? Why would I ask you to the dance?”

  “Because girls ask the guys. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me.”

  “Then you’ll be waiting forever.”

  “Fine. I’ll break tradition and ask you.”

  “Go with Shelly Watson or another girl. I know at least eight girls asked you.”

  “I don’t want anyone else.”

  She stared at me with those big brown eyes, shrouded in misery. “And I told you, I don’t want you.”

  “Dammit, girl, are you trying to hurt me on purpose here?” The anguish and defeat in my own voice surprised me. Keep it together, pussy! I cursed at myself.

  “No, you idiot. Just get the hell away from me.” She took my arm, pulling it toward the door. I didn’t budge. She started beating my chest. “You’re just a stupid hick. I hate you, you dumb redneck. I hate this town. Y’all are freaks. All of you. I don’t want you in my life.” She was crying and hitting me with her tiny fists. I barely felt her physical blows, but her words were sharp and piecing like tiny daggers cutting into my soul.

  I grabbed her wrists and held them up, “You don’t mean that. I’m going to forgive you for saying it. All of it.” I went to wipe the tear from her eye, but she turned away from me.

  Joe opened the door, interrupting us. I thought she had locked it.

  “Let’s go. You need to leave, Caleb. Right now.” It surprised me that he knew my name. How much did he know about Sylvie and me? Had she confided in him?

  “We’re not done talking.”

  “You’re done,” he said matter-of-factly. I didn’t care for him.

  “With all due respect sir, this is none of your business.”

  “Oh, but it is. Now I’ll ask you nicely one more time, and then I’m going to kick your ass out of here. Please leave.”

  I turned to Sylvie, hoping she’d change her mind. Instead, she just crossed her arms and shook her head. “Just go, Cal.”

  I was walking past her toward the window, my usual exit, when she said, “You can use the front door.”

  I would have laughed at my stupidity if my body wasn’t consumed by raw sadness. I was so tired, even more so than after a double practice or game. I felt deflated, maybe even defeated.

  Chapter 13

  Present day

  I broke a record running the six miles back to my house. I was sweating like a pig, but way to amped to be tired. Was I going crazy? I’d practically assaulted one of my students in a coffee shop. I didn’t want to think about it. Sylvie might even run away after my confrontation. It was a chance I had to take. I jumped in the shower, letting the hot water scald my skin as I tried desperately to drown out the conversation I’d just had. The anticipation of waiting for her was too great. I left the bathroom door open in case there was a knock, but none came. As soon as I got out, I heard a tap. I ran to the door in nothing but my boxers. It was the mailman with a package from my mother.

  He regarded me curiously. “You must have been real anxious for this,” he replied good-naturedly. I tried not to scowl as I signed for it.

  Fuck.

  I waited another anxious hour for that knock, alternating my time between walking around my apartment like a lunatic and doing one-armed pushups until I collapsed. The third hour, I spent making dinner, trying to get my mind off what a foolish thing I’d done. What if I was wrong? Although I’d never been so forceful, I had asked other girls if I knew them only to be disappointed. I wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t be.

  I decided to put it out of my mind. Either way, it had been three and a half hours since our talk. She wasn’t coming. What if she was Sylvie? I knew there was danger surrounding her. Had I just caused her to run farther away from me with my brute behavior?

  Had I made a serious mistake? I had faith, too much of it, but I wouldn’t lie, it was fucking hard to keep believing in something when no one else did. I’d been told, more times than I cared to count, by my family, friends, and people with advanced degrees, that I suffered from delusions brought on by post-traumatic stress. Part of me wondered if I wasn’t just cracking up on the inside. Had I become my own unreliable narrator?

  The knock was so timid I almost didn’t hear it. My heart came about an inch outside of my chest like one of those stupid cartoons. I said a prayer before I opened the door, one that even Pastor Morrison might approve of.

  She stood before me still grasping that bag of apples. Her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying for a very long time. Her lips trembled like she might start crying again. I could hear her heart beating right out of her chest.

  “Hiya, Tex.”

  “Hey, Sylvie.”

  Chapter 14

  Excerpt from Raven Girl

  Age 17

  I struggled to convince myself Sylvie was being a bitch. She hadn’t even wished me a happy birthday. She hadn’t even acknowledged the card and cupcakes I’d left at her front door on her birthday. I’d spent a fucking hour trying to find the perfect card at Jenson’s pharmacy. Inside the card, I placed a letter I wrote filled with apologies and appeals until my hand cramped. She never said a word.

  Who did that?

  Momma said Sylvie was just being a girl. I had to give her time and respect her wishes. This didn’t seem like normal girly melodrama, though. It was one thing for Sylvie to hate me for what I’d done, but she ignored Mandy and Momma, too. That just seemed cruel, and Sylvie didn’t have a vicious bone in her body.

  But what she was doing was cruel. If she didn’t want me in her life, then that was fine with me. There was only so much a person could do. I let her go. I even accepted Shelly Watson’s invitation to Sadie’s, deciding she was a fine substitute. A better substitute really. At least Shelly wanted to be with me.

  I tried to slap down the nagging voice inside of me. In reality, I was still miserable and didn’t want to go to a stupid dance, but Shelly had sweetened the deal by promising me sex. Sex seemed like a good distraction. Especially since I was a virgin. Probably the only virgin in my high school…well, except Sylvie that was.

  The night of the dance, I stepped out on my front porch in my Sunday suit, holding the white rose corsage for Shelly. I was opening the door of my car when I saw her. Sylvie sat on her front porch in a pair of frayed denim shorts and a white tank top, her hair tied in a high ponytail. The St Michael’s medallion hung around her neck. I’ve never seen a more beautiful girl in my life.

  “Hiya, Tex,” she said, smiling softly.

  “Hey, Sylvie,” I replied with measured caution in my voice. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

  She walked over to me with those long graceful legs. The tank top slid slightly off her shoulder revealing the strap of a lacy pink bra. She stood there with her hands in her pockets, staring at me. “You look handsome.”

  “I’m going to the dance,” I muttered. No shit, stupid. Of course, she knew where I was going.

  “Your tie’s crooked.”

  I threw the corsage on the passenger seat and attempted to straighten my tie. She laughed at my efforts.

  “You’re hopeless. Come here.”

  I walked over to her. She stood on her tiptoes as she unknotted my tie.

  “I don’t have to go,” I whispered, leaning in much closer to her than I needed to.

  “Yes, you do.” She kept nodding. I wondered if she was reassuring herself or me.

  “How was your birthday?”

  She bit her bottom lip while she focused on my tie. Oh damn, that gesture did things to me. “Thank you for the cupcakes.”

  It wasn’t lost on me she didn’t answer my question or mention my letter. “Welcome.”

  “How was your birthday? I heard all the noise. Sounds like you had a big party.”

  “It was already planned, but it wasn’t much fun without you.”

  “There,” she said, patting the tie in place. “Go and have fun. You deserve it.”
/>   “Is that what you really want?” I asked, adjusting the fallen strap of her tank top, letting my fingers linger over the soft, bare skin of her shoulder. She shivered against my touch.

  “Yes, it’s what I want for you,” she replied with a smile so tight it looked painful. She patted my chest before backing away from me like she wanted to put distance between us.

  I took a step closer. “What are you doing tonight?”

  She jerked her heard in the direction of the beach. “I thought I’d go fishing. It’s a nice night. I bet the perch are biting.”

  “Yeah, seems like a good night for fishing.”

  She kicked a pebble in my direction. I kicked it back to her.

  “Hey, I heard you were offered an athletic scholarship. That’s really great.” There was genuine happiness in her voice, but the way she cast her eyes downward told me she was sad, too. Was she worried I’d leave her here when I went off to college? I was planning to talk to her about that, hoping we could choose together, but in light of current events, I have dropped that plan.

  “I’ve gotten three offers.”

  “Three? That’s amazing. What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m still weighting the options, but it’s nice to have choices.”

  “Do you have a favorite?”

  “I’m going to wait it out. I still have time to choose.” I bent down so my mouth was close to her ear. “I’m very good at waiting.”

  Chapter 15

  Except Raven Girl

  Age 17

  “If we have sex tonight, you have to be my boyfriend.”

  “What?”

  We had just pulled up to the school parking lot. I hadn’t been paying attention to Shelly the whole ride here. I’d been preoccupied with my conversation with Sylvie. It should have been encouraging. It wasn’t, though. I had this ball of anxiety in my gut. It kept growing with every mile I drove.

  “You heard me. I’m not a slut or anything.”

  “Shelly, I’m not looking for a girlfriend. We don’t have to do anything, though. I don’t want to anyway.”

  The smile on Shelly’s face transformed to a sneer so fast I had to blink my eyes. “Why? Because of Sylvie Cranston?”

  Yes, I thought. “Maybe,” I said.

  “She’s a total freak. No one likes her but you. You guys don’t even make sense together. I’m the head cheerleader and you’re captain of the football team. We should be together. You and her…it’s like you’re taking pity on her. Are you trying to get your charity volunteer credits by hanging out with her?” Shelly laughed at her twisted joke.

  I wanted to kick her out of the car or tell her off. “I’m warning you, Shelly. Don’t talk about her like that. It’s none of your business.”

  “Look, I get it. Everyone says you feel sorry for her. But I know better. I can tell you’re into her for whatever reason. Thing is, it’s getting obvious and people are talking.”

  Was that what everyone thought? That Sylvie was some kind of dirty secret for me? My jaw ached from the way I clenched my mouth. “I don’t hide the way I feel about Sylvie Cranston. She does. You think I’m ashamed? That’s the biggest pile of bull I’ve ever heard. I’m proud. I’m so proud to be her friend. You are right. She is the reason I won’t go out with you. I don’t have to justify or defend how I feel about her to you or anyone else.” I opened my mouth to tell Shelly Watson that I loved Sylvie, but I stopped myself. I should tell Sylvie first.

  Shelly leaned in close to me, letting her hair graze my cheek. It felt like starched sandpaper. I took a deep breath, which was a mistake because her perfume invaded my nostrils and strangled me.

  “Is it a curiosity thing? Does she do nasty things in bed, because I can…”

  “Shut up, Shelly.”

  She crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. “God, what a waste. Don’t you see that you deserve better than her?”

  I stared at Shelly, clearly seeing her ugliness through all that makeup and cherry lipstick. “There is no one better. Get out.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” I leaned across her and opened the passenger side door. “Get the fuck out of my car.”

  “You’re not coming in with me?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “But…but…you’re my ride.”

  “Shelly, please exit my vehicle. Don’t worry, you’ll find some other guy to ride.” It was a cold statement, but I was done with Shelly Watson.

  “You’ll be sorry for this, Cal.”

  “I’m already sorry for this.”

  She slammed the door so hard I heard the window rattle in the frame. I squealed out of the parking lot. I had such a fierce need to get to Sylvie I could feel the fire under my ass. I tried to quench the sinking feeling in my stomach.

  I made the fifteen-minute drive in ten. I parked on the street and ran to the back of her house. I tapped on her window, but there was no answer and the curtains were closed. Then I remembered she was going fishing. I sprinted through the woods, stumbling over a few branches, searching for her in the dark. I finally made it to the lake and breathed a deep sigh of relief when I saw her on the dock. A small lantern sat next to her, bathing her in soft light. It was one of those nights where I was grateful to live in Prairie. About a million stars hung so low they lit up the night sky. Fireflies skimmed the water. The waves crashed against the beach, playing a song just for us.

  “Cal, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  I took a deep breath, telling myself to calm the fuck down. “I wanted to dance.”

  “Why didn’t you stay at the dance then?” she asked with a weak smile.

  “The girl I wanted to dance with wasn’t there.” I walked over until I reached her. I held out my hand. “She’s here.”

  Sylvie stared at my hand for a minute, biting her lower lip nervously. She finally took hold of it. I grasped it tightly and pulled her up.

  “We don’t have any music.”

  I chuckled. “I’m your Huckleberry,” I said, taking out my cell phone.

  “Is that new?”

  “Yeah, it’s cool. I can download music on it.” I scrolled through the selections until I found the song I was looking for. “Brown-Eyed Girl” started playing. It was because it reminded me of her. “You like Van Morrison, right? You were listening to them the first day I met you.”

  “You remember that?”

  I slipped the phone into my pocket. “I remember everything.” She slid her arms around my neck and I grasped her waist. It wasn’t the slowest song, but we danced to it as if it was. I held her in my arms as tightly as I could, knowing this was where I belonged. I loved this girl. She loved me, too.

  “You smell good,” she said, her body relaxing as we shuffled to the music.

  “And you smell like fish.”

  She laughed hard. Sylvie always got my weird sense of humor. I was kidding, though—she smelled of fresh honey.

  “Cal, I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish things were simpler. I wish—”

  “Shush, girl, I’m trying to dance with you. Just stop talking and let me hold you.”

  She did, and when the dance was over, she surprised me by putting a hand on each side of my face and pulling me towards her. It was a passionate kiss, open-mouth with our tongues exploring hungrily. Her lips were soft. Her mouth tasted of fresh mint and strawberry. I breathed her in. I let my hands travel up her back and felt my dick grow hard when she pressed her body closer to mine. There we were, two figures against the pale Prairie moonlight, me in my Sunday suit and her in her fishing gear, but it didn’t matter what we were wearing or where we’d come from. We belonged with each other. We belong to each other.

  “Sylvie, I’m really sorry.”

  She covered my mouth with her hand. “Don’t talk. I can’t talk to you right now. Just kiss me again. Kiss me for a long time. Kiss me until my lips hurt and I’m out of breath. Kiss me, please.”

  I smacked my lips against hers so hard.


  All this time, I’d been trying to find the right words to convey my feelings. But in those kisses, I didn’t have to guess or worry. She was mine. I was hers. We were each other’s everything.

  As promised, when I finally let her go, we were both out of breath.

  “Sylvie…”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  “We should talk. I have to tell you some things.”

  “Okay, let’s talk and um…kiss some more, too.”

  She laughed in my arms before going tense. Her eyes widened. She looked past me. “Someone’s in my house,” she said with a hitched voice.

  I turned in the direction of the densely packed woods. I had no idea how I saw the square patch of light streaming through her window all the way down by the beach, but I did. “Yeah, it’s your dad.”

  “My bedroom light is on.”

  I sighed in frustration, annoyed by her distraction. “Again…it’s your daddy.”

  She shook her head, her grip on my arm tightening. “He never goes into my room.” The panic in her voice was wavering on hysteria. “I have to go.”

  “Calm down, I’ll go with you.”

  “Stay here,” she said with a command to her voice I wasn’t expecting.

  “Like hell, I will.”

  She ran toward the woods. She ran so fast I had a hard time keeping pace. I wanted to tell her it was nothing. But there was something about her fear that made me question if I was right. What if it was something?

  She was about to round the front of the house when I hooked my arm around her waist and pulled her back. “Let’s check it out first.”

  Her face was flushed, and she struggled to breathe. I thought she might collapse.

  “’Kay.”

  I walked her backward toward her windowsill, and we both crouched below it. I got on my knees to look through her window. Someone had pulled back the curtains. I could make out some shadowy figures through the blinds. They were slanted just enough to allow a visible but obstructed view.