Heavenly Bodies Page 16

  “But there are still feelings.”

  He hesitates, and my chest squeezes unpleasantly. “On her side, yes.”

  The afternoon light hits his eyes, making them glow amber. My chest squeezes again, but for other reasons...like relief.

  “We talked about it last night, though,” he continues. “She knows what’s up now.”

  “Really?” I blurt. “Because I don’t even know what’s up.”

  Genuine bemusement passes over his face. “What do you mean?”

  He’s told me with kisses and touches, conversations and flirting, that he likes me, but we’ve never defined things. I thought I could keep up, that I didn’t need labels for this maybe-relationship, but I deluded myself. It was easier to go with the flow when there no one else was threatening it.

  “I mean...we’ve never really...decided.” Ugh, why is discussing the relationship harder than actually having it? “I don’t know what we’re doing, Rigel.”

  “I like the way you say my name.”

  “Yeah, I like how you say mine, too.” It’s true. The way his accent wraps around my name gives me chill bumps. “But you’re changing the subject.”

  He sits up so we’re shoulder to shoulder. “I’m not with anyone else. Haven’t been since...” Since we started kissing, I suppose. But his vagueness is annoying.

  A huge cheer erupts from the pool, where everyone else is playing water polo. The one day I skip class, and they play a game.

  Rigel flips his hat back on. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “With anyone else?” He’s teasing now, the tension gone from his voice, and it loosens something in me, too. A little.

  “Yeah, I’m secretly dating Stanley,” I say, biting back a smile when he presses his thigh to mine.

  He chuffs quietly, taking my hand. “You still mad?”

  “Should I be?” I ask, staring at our hands. “You could totally be playing me right now.”

  “You think I’m like that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not.” His hand squeezes mine. “I’m not playing you.”

  I think back to what I’ve heard about Rigel Thomas. There’s never any context, so I never know what to make of it. “Okay. But I think there might be things I don’t know about you.”

  He narrows his eyes for a second. “There are things I don’t know about you, too.”

  “That’s true.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I don’t want to be mad at you, but last night sucked.” And it really did. I hate that I feel this much for someone I’ve only known a month, but it is what it is.

  “Yeah.” He sighs, looking away. “It did. I messed up.”

  We sit quietly for a minute, watching the class. Or, pretending to.

  “You gonna give me another chance?” he asks.

  I smile, despite.

  He leans over, kissing my cheek. I squeeze his hand, surprised he’d do this at school. “That a yes?”

  “Well, I’m not with anyone else…”

  Bright eyes like little suns, he smiles slowly and kisses me again, on the mouth this time. Stars shoot across the universe of my skin.

  “Rigel Thomas!”

  Archer’s voice snaps across the pool like a whip, but Rigel just melts back, adjusting the brim of his hat. “Sorry, Coach.”

  “And Isla.” She stands aghast at the bottom of the bleachers while our class looks on, snickering and whispering from the pool. “That is…not the kind of physical education we’re doing, here!”

  Jasmine crosses her legs, tilting her face toward the sun. “I heard from like three different people you and Ri were making out during PE.”

  My face burns, but not just from embarrassment. I feel warm every time I think about kissing him. “I wouldn’t say we were making out.”

  She opens one eye and peeks at me. “Would’ve paid to see it, just saying.”

  “We barely kissed.” I laugh. “Not that we should have been doing that at all.”

  “Not that anyone even knew you guys were like that!” Jasmine says, ditching her faux nonchalance to gape at me. “How long?”

  “Few weeks.” I shrug, brushing imaginary lint from my skirt.

  Camille walks over, handing Jasmine a bag of jellybeans so she can finger comb her hair and stuff it into a sloppy bun. “Soccer tryouts are today. Nando’s staying so I might just ride home with him.”

  Now that exams are over, I don’t have after school study sessions. Reveling in my freedom, I take a few jellybeans. “I’ll hang out for awhile, too.”

  Bass rumbles from the parking lot, low enough that the administration will likely let it slide. Nando and Rigel are parked beneath a tree, socializing with a few other guys. With a start, I realize the person Rigel’s talking to is Orion. I can only see part of his face, but I know it’s him. Side by side, they look so much alike.

  Rigel’s tense as he listens, one sneaker anchored on the ground. He says something and then Orion stalks off, getting into the Tahoe parked a few feet away.

  Nando comes over, meeting us halfway. “Hey, nena,” he says, throwing his arm around me.“You coming to watch tryouts?”

  Rigel’s reclining now, back to messing with his music. He summons me when our eyes meet. I guess we’re really doing this. “I don’t know; maybe,” I tell Nando, kissing his cheek. “Good luck, though.”

  With a murmur of thanks, he leaves for the field. Rigel sits up as I approach, legs open, and I step into the space he’s created. His hands settle on my hips. I rest mine on his knees. “What’re you up to right now?”

  “Nothing...you staying for soccer tryouts?”

  “Do I look like I need another sport?” he teases. “I used to play, you know. Up until ninth grade.”

  “I meant for Nando. But soccer and swimming?” The breeze picks up, blowing my hair around. “Sounds exhausting.”

  “It was,” he says, hands falling away even as his stare deepens. Something shifted at the pool today. Knowing Rigel wants this is exhilarating, but it’s scary, too, like we’re at the edge of a precipice. Anything could happen.

  His song ends, and so does the moment. I glance around while he goes through his phone, noticing that Orion hasn’t moved.

  “So that’s your brother,” I say, watching closely for a reaction.

  “Yeah.” His eyes flicker to Orion. “Who told you? Camille?”

  “I met him with Cam once, and then again last night.”

  He frowns.

  “He asked me to dance,” I add, biting back a smile.

  “Did you?” he asks, looking legitimately put off.

  “I did.” I decide to go for broke. “I think he was trying to distract me from...you.”

  Remorse flickers over his face. “Great. I can only imagine the bullshit he spewed.”

  “Why do you guys hate each other so much?” I ask.

  “I don’t hate him,” Rigel says, yanking me closer. “But promise me you’ll stay away from him, okay?”

  I frown, glancing surreptitiously at Orion’s ride. “I don’t exactly go looking for him, but okay.”

  “I mean it. He’s into a lot of shit.” He tilts his head, squeezing my hips. “But that’s another story for another day.”

  “You’ll tell me, though?”

  Giving me a kiss, he turns me so that my back is to his chest. “Mhm.”

  Orion’s leaving now, his obnoxiously loud music drowning out everything else. Some of the crowd has moved to the sidelines of the soccer field, waiting for tryouts to start.

  And there's Mia, presiding over a group of senior girls. She was a student here as of last year, so it makes sense she’d visit her friends. Still, her presence is unnerving. I peek over my shoulder at Rigel, but he’s talking to Maurice about car parts.

  Mia scans the crowd, her gaze skipping over as if she doesn’t see us at all. And I'd believe that was the case, if she didn't then fold her arms and turn the other way.

  “Want to go
somewhere?” Rigel whispers, resting his chin on my shoulder..

  “Like where?”

  “There’s a beach…” He sits back and I turn around, creating some space. “I can bring you back later if you want to leave your car.”

  There’s always a beach. Luckily, Camille rode in with me today so there’s no need to come back. “I’ll let Camille take my car,” I say, brandishing my keys.

  She and Jasmine are sitting on the grass beside the soccer field, watching the players warm up. “Hey.” I drop to my knees beside her, sliding my keys to her lap. “I’m gonna go with Rigel. Do you want to drive my car home? I can just pick it up later.”

  Her eyes light up as I knew they would. She’s hated not having wheels. “Sounds mutually beneficial.”

  “Okay.” I smile, handing her my keys. “Thanks, Cam.”

  “Oh no, thank you,” she says, pinching my cheek.

  I give Jasmine a friendly wave and return to Rigel, who’s closed his door and looks ready to go. Retrieving my phone, I toss my backpack into the back of his truck and climb into the cab. He turns up the music and eases through the congested parking lot, stopping only to stick his head out the window. “Good luck, Nandito!”

  We pass the Frederiksted Pier as we drive through town. It’s a different scene than on the weekend, when families are out and kids are jumping into the water with ecstatic screams. Today just a few fishermen stand along the sides, setting out lines.

  Rigel turns down the music, following my gaze. “When are we jumping off?”

  “The pier?” I give him a wry smile. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a little scary the first time, nothing you can’t handle.”

  I nod. “I saw kids diving off back there a few weeks ago.”

  He pauses at a stop sign. “You can’t live here and not do it at least once.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Not today!” I say, grabbing his arm.

  “Not today,” he agrees. “But soon.”

  We pass Rainbow Beach and the rainforest road, heading further west than I’ve ever been. Less houses, more trees, the road hugs gently the coast, revealing flashes of water through gaps in the bush. Eventually Rigel pulls off onto a barely visible dirt clearing on the side of the road.

  I unbuckle my seatbelt. “I don’t have a bathing suit.” The one I usually wear for P.E. is in my locker, still dry as a result of begging out of swimming earlier.

  “Me neither,” he says, sliding out of the truck.

  I cock an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Grinning, he locks up and leads the way. “Come on.”

  Nestled behind the tree line is an almost hidden cove. Rocks jut out on either side, isolating a stretch of sand from rest of the coast. St. Croix never fails to enchant me. Every time I think I’ve found the prettiest, the most magical, something even better finds me.

  We could be on a deserted island right now. I’d take a picture or ten, but Rigel’s already pocketed his phone and keys and is starting to strip. He’s welcome to—I’m certainly enjoying the view. I just have little desire to join him.

  “Come on,” he says again, a mischievous smile stretching across his face when he gets down to his underwear.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope.” He leaves his boxers on and struts into the water, looking every inch the swim star that he is.

  I, on the other hand, have underwear that don’t match my bra. Leaving my skirt and camisole on top of Rigel’s clothes, I hurry into the water, grateful it’s so warm.

  “Does it ever get cold here?” I ask, wading toward Rigel.

  “Define cold,” he says, reaching for me as soon as I’m close.

  The sun is still pretty high in the sky, but when it starts to sink, it’ll go quickly. Vibrant and sunny one minute, leached of color the next. Right now it’s postcard-perfect, an aqua lagoon framed by curving palm trees and fuller, denser brush. Prisms of sunlight dart beneath the surface like fish. The water is so clear that its depth is deceptive, seeming shallower than it is.

  With a squeeze of his hands, Rigel hoists me up, wrapping my legs around his hips. Flattening his palms against my back, he brushes his thumbs just under my shoulder blades and brings me in for a kiss. I run my hands over his arms, his neck, the muscled curvature of his shoulders and back, touching him the way he’s touching me. Being this close, wet, with so little between us, I feel everything.

  My legs tighten around him. His hands slide, almost reflexively, down until he’s cupping my bottom. Our kisses deepen until I’m lost in the slide of his tongue against mine, the way he tastes. I could do this all day, but eventually the fire calms and I pull back, hands linked loosely around Rigel’s neck. He’s breathing hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as he catches himself. And then, because he’s a guy, his gaze drops to my chest. I kept my bra on, but it’s probably see-through by now.

  My heart thumps. “I’m starting to think you just bring me to these beaches so we can...do this.”

  “I can’t lie.”

  “I bet you bring all the girls here,” I joke, watching as he tries valiantly to keep his eyes on mine.

  “Just the special ones.”

  “Easy, cheesy.” I roll my eyes playfully. “Who’d fall for that?”

  “Hey, you’re here.” He leers, tickling me beneath the water.

  Laughing, I shove off from him and swim away, not getting very far before he grabs my leg and pulls me back. We cavort around, splashing and chasing each other until I’m begging for mercy, giggling so hard I can’t breathe. “Stop,” I gasp, holding him at arm’s length.

  We float over to where it’s shallow enough to sit and settle on the sand, bodies shifting back and forth with the current. After a while, Rigel lies back. “I used to do this thing when I was little, where I’d listen to the underwater. It’s loud under there. Sometimes, if you do it on the right day, you can hear sonar signals from navy ships off the coast.”

  “Really?” I stare at the horizon, imagining.

  “Mhm.” He rests his hand on my thigh. “Come here.”

  I glance down at his peaceful face. His eyes are closed, and only his ears are submerged. Slowly, I unfurl myself and lie beside him, staring up at the deep blue sky. At first, the crush and fizzle of sand and rock caught in the tide are harsh, but as I listen I start to anticipate its rhythm. I find Rigel’s hand, and we zone out for awhile, listening to the sea.

  Rigel touches my stomach. I open my eyes, only just having realized they drifted shut. “Isla.”

  His voice sounds muffled, far away. I hear him, though, and I emerge, resting on my elbows.

  “Let’s go under,” he says. “Together.”

  My heart skips a beat, but it’s not romantic. I gaze at the surface, how it glimmers and gleams in the sun.

  “You were telling me about that photographer you liked.” His fingertips circle my belly button. “The one who takes pictures underwater. You could do that too, you know.”

  I don’t admit I’ve thought the very same thing. I catch his hand and sit up.

  “We’ll go slow,” he says, smirking.

  “Okay. But the second things go south I’m done.”

  “Isn’t that the point, though? To go south? Underwater?” he teases.

  “I’m serious,” I say, letting go of him.

  “I know. I got you.” He leads me into slightly deeper waters and goes first, sinking just below the surface.

  I mimic him, going under for just a second before popping back up. Each time we go a little further, a little longer. I can’t touch the bottom, I won’t. Not today. But every time I go under the discomfort lessens. A little.

  Later, we watch the sun as it melts down, hoping to see the famous green flash. Apparently, on clear days when there are no clouds, a burst of green light glints on the horizon the moment the sun sets.

  “I didn’t see it,” I murmur, disappointed
.

  “Me neither. Next time.”

  “Have you ever seen it?”

  “Couple times.”

  “Is it rare? Like seeing a comet?”

  “More like seeing a shooting star. Not that rare.”

  I nod, taking one last look at the fuchsia sky before turning my attention to my hands. “We’ve been in here so long I’m wrinkly.”

  “Let’s go,” he says, running his hands through his hair. It’s even blonder and curlier today, thanks to the sun and salt. “I have some towels and stuff in the truck.”

  A few months ago, I never would have imagined myself at the beach for hours, let alone in the water. Rigel pulls me up, and I follow him out of the water. “Thanks for teaching me to swim,” I say, pulling on his hand.

  He stops, and I walk into his arms. “Teaching the new girl how to swim...” His hands skim down my back, staying just above my behind. “Wasn’t exactly a chore.”

  “I’m guessing you’ve never been on a jet-ski,” Jasmine muses, shading her eyes as we watch the boys race over the surface of the water. We’re on the east end, hanging out at Cramer Park. I haven’t spent too much time on this part of the island, but Nando lives closeby. These beaches are his stomping grounds.

  “You’d be guessing right.” I slather sunscreen onto my arms, my second time in hours. It’s a scorcher of a day, and the beach was already packed when we arrived, leaving no shady spots.

  Nando’s Uncle Manny passes by, gnawing contentedly on a chicken leg. “All you sure you ain’t hungry?” He gestures to the grill, where they’ve been barbecuing all afternoon. “Don’t play cute, you know. There’s plenty.”

  We’ve already eaten—twice. If I consume any more potato salad I’m going to have to wear a shirt to hide my gut.

  “You must want us to get fat,” says Camille, accent deepening to match Manny’s.

  Scoffing, he ambles down to the shore where he flags Nando and Rigel down.

  “It’s about time.” Camille jumps up, throwing her hair into a ponytail. It’s getting long again, undertones of red in her dark waves. “I want to go for a ride before Manny brings them in.”