The Day I Killed James by Catherine Ryan Hyde Read Free Book Online

picture. He thought this was going to be a real thing between us. He thought I’d see that he was better. And that would be that. I guess in a weird sort of way I could follow his logic. We
should
want to be with the person who treats us well. That
should
be true. We
should
function that way. We just don’t.
    Why don’t we?
    “Want to make him
really
jealous?” James asked. We were sitting on the straw by this time. He moved his face in close. “Is this okay? If I kiss you?”
    “How will that make him jealous? He can’t see us.”
    “I guess you’ll have to make a lot of noise about it.”
    So, I look back to that moment. I see it as the real heart of where things began to go wrong. Not that things weren’t
pretty
wrong before that. But after it, things were
really
wrong. Unprecedented-crazy wrong. So wrong that I ended up stretched out on my back with James on top of me, his hands all interwoven with mine above our heads, kissing. And me calling out his name. About three or four times. Before it hit me. Maybe he didn’t realize this was still all part of the Make Randy Jealous crusade. Maybe he’d gotten carried away, lost track of all that, and thought I was calling his name because he was doing great with me. He seemed carried away. But even then, after wondering about that, I had no idea what to do about it.
    “I need to stop for a minute,” I said.
    We sat up.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    I had no idea where to begin. We were past the point of no return and there was nothing I could say without hurting him. And I didn’t want to hurt James. Have I made that clear already?
    I heard the door of the next stall slam. I looked up to see the top of Randy’s head go by the door. He purposely did not look in.
    “Are you okay?” James again. “Do you need something? Fresh air? Something to drink?”
    “Yeah. Maybe a glass of water.”
    “I’ll be right back.”
    “I’ll be outside getting some air.”
    “Good idea,” he said.
    I’d barely been outside long enough to take my first breath when Randy came up from behind me. Startling me.
    “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said, “but we need to talk.”
    “Where’s Rachel?”
    “I gave her my car and told her to go home.”
    “How will you get home?”
    “Hopefully with you.”
    “I didn’t drive. I came here with James.”
    “We could walk.”
    “Randy. I came here with James. That would be kind of cold.”
    “
I
did it for
you.
I sent Rachel home. Look, I was wrong. How many different ways do I have to say it? I was wrong. I want us back together. Please. We belong together. What do I have to do? I’ll do anything.”
    I looked into his eyes and folded.
    Another moment good for looking back on. Or bad for it. As the case may be. I could have held firm. But I didn’t. I saw the emotion in his eyes and turned to jelly.
    He pulled me in to kiss me. I let him.
    It was…everything. It was like a key you put into a lock, and it fits, and the whole world just opens wide. It was the very thing. The ticket. The only answer. There was nothing else like it. There never would be. There never could be. There was only one Randy. This was the only kiss in the world.
    I’m not sure how long we’d been kissing when I remembered there was such a thing as James. I’d like to at least pretend that it returned to my mind all on its own. But even that would be giving me too much credit. The truth of the matter is that I heard a motorcycle start up. That’s what made me think of James.
    “How long have we been out here?” I asked.
    “I don’t know. Why?”
    “James went to get me a glass of water.”
    And, of course, he’d had plenty of time to come back with it by now.
    I am a very, very horrible person. I am beyond redemption.
    I ran around looking for him. Pretending there were lots of motorcycles parked at Frieda’s that night. That the odds were good I had heard someone else’s bike entirely.
    I ran into Frieda, who said, “Poor James.