I was having too much fun to refuse. When we finished I watched the sun drop behind the bay, reflecting on how fun it was playing cowboy to Genise's Indian. "You can stay the night if you want," Genise said standing behind me.
"Can't, people are expecting me."
"Call 'em," Genise quipped.
"And tell them I'm in Atlantic City?"
"Lie," Genise slid her arms around me. "Tell them you're in Pittsburgh or something."
"Yeah right. Who do I know there?"
"You worry too much. Tell them you just felt like getting out. You just drove and ended up there."
It would be fun, I thought. "It'll be a lot easier to hit the road. My old man will be at Diane's. Shannie will be holed up at school." I turned around. I imagined being with Genise. If it wasn't for Shannie, I would have stayed. Who knows how long. I lifted her chin with a finger. We kissed. We hugged. Genise buried her head in my chest; for a moment, I lost myself her hair's aroma. Pulling away I said. "I have to go. It's easier to deal with the guilt this way."
"You know," Genise whispered. "You're not in a relationship with her."
"Yeah, but I love her."
Genise looked at me with poisoned eyes. "We have that in common. What about us? We still have a deal?"
"I gotta go." I turned away.
"Don't stiff me," Genise repeated.
"I just did," I smiled.
"A deal is a deal."
"It is."
"You and me, we're strange bedfellows," Genise quipped.
"Yeah we are," I ran a finger down Genise's cheek. "You know, we're both victims of Shannie's charisma," I whispered. I kissed her forehead and walked into the night. Without looking back, I climbed into my hooptie and went over my directions home before driving away.
As Atlantic City's lights faded behind me I thought of how aquatinted I am with things bittersweet; how well my stomach twists to the strains of my heart's beat and my smile glistens under showers of tears.
Memories of my latest adventure swarmed about as the hooptie coasted to a stop atop Beyford's exit ramp. With a sigh of relieve I turned down Main Street. I slowed as I passed Fernwood, glancing across the tombstones, past the line of trees to our houses. I thought of my mother, wondered where she could be. Would I recognize her? I missed her. I wished I could talk with her. Of the pain I suffered, her indifference hurt the worst.