Lust

by Robin Wasserman

  “I’m not marrying you, idiot,” she’d laughed, tugging at his arm. “Come on, get up!”

  But he had stayed in position. “Okay then, we’ll start slow. One date—one chance. Then I’ll never bother you again.”

  How could she say no?

  He’d been her first kiss, her first boyfriend, her first love, her first—everything. He’d been so patient, so tender, so gentle, and everything had been wonderful. Perfect. Until now—when she wanted him more than ever, and it only made things worse. And suddenly everything that had been easy between them, all the effortless conversation, the casual kisses, the laughter—it was all weighed down by the silence of what they never said, what they couldn’t talk about. Everything on the surface was still so right—but beneath that, Beth feared, there was something brittle, something fragile. Something wrong.

  She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead and once on the lips, then hopped out of bed to gather up the clothes they’d strewn haphazardly across her bedroom.

  “Up ‘n’ Adam,” she chirped, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking. She tossed a balled-up T-shirt toward him. “You know my mother will be home any minute, and if she finds us up here …”

  Silently, Adam got out of bed and pulled on his clothes. The quiet minutes dragged on for an eternity, until Beth was afraid he would leave without saying another word. But before he did, he came up and put his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Beth buried her head in his chest, reveling in the soft, familiar scent of his cologne and trying her best to fight back the tears.

  “You know I love you,” he whispered. He released her, then tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You know I love you,” he said again, his lips only a breath away. “And you know I’ll wait.”

  Beth nodded. She knew he loved her, and she knew he would wait—but for how long?

  Kane surveyed the tacky surroundings in disgust. Magazine clippings from the fifties papered the walls, fake plastic records dangled from the ceiling, and a giant neon jukebox blasted out oldies while bored waitresses plodded back and forth between the crowded booths and the crowded kitchen, snapping their gum and pretending they didn’t desperately wish they were somewhere, anywhere, else.

  “Remind me again why we keep coming back here?” he asked.

  Harper hit an imaginary Jeopardy! buzzer.

  “What is ‘the only diner in town’?” she reminded him. She took another spoonful of her ice-cream sundae and moaned with pleasure. “Besides, who could deny the appeal of a restaurant with a motto like that?” She tapped a perfectly manicured finger on top of the fluorescent menu: LIFE IS SHORT—EAT DESSERT FIRST.

  “Good point,” Kane admitted, scooping off a good chunk of her ice cream, complete with cherry—he’d finished his own sundae within minutes of its arrival.

  “Hands off!” Harper laughed, smacking his spoon away. “Sure you don’t want some, Miranda?” she asked, pushing the giant bowl across the table toward her friend. Miranda squirmed back, waving it away.

  “Some of us actually want to have room for dinner,” she pointed out.

  “Oh, come on, Miranda, live a little,” Kane encouraged her, grabbing a spoon and digging in once again. “Be a rebel—I know you’ve got some bad girl blood in there somewhere.”

  Miranda hesitantly took a small bite of the ice cream, flushing as his deep chocolate eyes paused on her and a slow, satisfied smile lit up his face.

  “Atta girl. I knew you had it in you.”

  Is he flirting with me? she wondered.

  If only.

  Miranda had known Kane for almost as long as she’d known Harper (and, basically, everyone else in this town)—a few minutes short of forever. She doubted that he remembered the time they’d spent a third grade recess playing dominoes together, or the knight in shining armor moment when he’d tossed her a towel after an embarrassing “wardrobe malfunction” at Shayna Hernandez’s eighth grade pool party. In fact, she doubted that he would even remember her name—or at least admit to doing so—if she wasn’t usually joined at the hip with Harper, one of the only people that Kane didn’t find to be a yawn a minute. But whatever the reason that put him across the table from her so often, she was grateful. And sometimes wondered whether this wasn’t perhaps the year that he’d get sick of the bimbos and finally notice her. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?

  Besides, thanks to Harper’s intervention and some—okay, a lot of—careful dieting, she now had much better hair, clothes, and body than she’d had in eighth grade. Maybe the next time her bikini top popped off, Kane wouldn’t be so quick with the towel ….

  “Earth to Miranda,” his voice punctured her reverie. “Dreaming about my hot bod again? You girls just can’t help yourselves, can you?”

  Miranda snorted, hoping her face wasn’t too red. “As if.”

  Did she sound believably casual—but not so disgusted that he would think it inconceivable that she’d been thinking about his tightly toned forearms?

  Miranda knew there was a middle ground somewhere between obsessed stalker and mortal enemy, but she’d never had much luck finding it. (This likely explained why all her carefully constructed flirty banter, designed to make junior high crush Rob Schwartz realize she was interested, but not too interested, had instead left the JV quarterback with the unshakeable conviction that she hated him.)

  She’d gotten a little better since then—but not much.

  Beth and Adam were late.

  They came into the diner arm in arm, whispering to each other. Harper waved to get their attention, then quickly looked away. It was too sickening to watch.

  “Where’ve you guys been?” Kane asked with a leer when they arrived at the table. “As if I have to ask.”

  Beth tucked her hair behind her ears, blushing, and Adam began to stammer out something about lost keys and car trouble and—

  “Oh, just sit down,” Harper interrupted. “We waited for you to order dinner, and we’re starving, so let’s just get to it.”

  “Spoken with your usual grace and accuracy,” Kane said. “I second the motion.”

  Beth and Adam squeezed into the booth next to Miranda, smushing her up against the window, since the bench was meant for only two people. But Harper chose not to say anything about it—the way things were going, Beth would probably just smile politely and offer to spend the rest of the night perched on Adam’s lap, to save room. She was just so accommodating. And, Harper had to admit, beautiful. She’d changed out of her first-day-of-school outfit (standard Beth: classic-cut jeans, black T-shirt, gold hoop earrings, bland and forgettable) into a backless turquoise sundress that matched her eyes and perfectly set off her sun-drenched hair. And Harper wasn’t the only one to appreciate it. As Beth leaned forward to order her food, Adam reached over and began slowly rubbing her bare back; Harper couldn’t pull her eyes away from his hand, lightly playing its way up and down Beth’s skin. She could almost feel its warm pressure on her own.

  Harper shook her head violently to knock the fantasy away, and then waved them all to be quiet. There was a reason she’d invited them out tonight—aside from the understandable need for large amounts of grease and sugar after the long first day of school. And, since she was losing her appetite by the minute watching the lovebirds fawn, it was probably time to get started.

  “Okay, now that you’re all here”—she tried not to glare at Beth—“here’s the deal. We’ve got two weeks until the annual lame back-to-school formal, right?”

  Kane groaned. “Don’t remind me. What a joke.”

  Harper ignored him and continued. “And two weeks until the annual top secret after party, organized by a select group of seniors.”

  “Kerry Stanton and those girls did it last year, right?” Beth asked. “Wonder who they tapped for this year.”

  Harper gave her a withering stare. Was the girl an idiot?

  “Kerry e-mailed me this afternoon,” Harper explained with a self-satisfied grin. “Looks like
I’m up.”

  “You?” Miranda asked, grinning. “Awesome.”

  “Actually—us.”

  Adam held up his hands in protest. “Hold up, Harper—look, we’re all impressed that you’re now officially the coolest of the cool and all, but if you think you’re roping me into some kind of dance committee …”

  “God, it’s not a dance, Adam. It’s a party. A secret, illicit, just-for-seniors party?” She smiled winningly. “And I know you all want to help out, get on the inside track, be adored by the masses—”

  “Not to mention, get first dibs on the best beer and the comfiest mattresses,” Kane pointed out. “Sign me up.”

  Harper smacked him and was about to launch back into her spiel when the diner door opened, and in walked Kaia. On anyone else, her Little Black Dress would have looked ridiculously out of place amidst the neon and trucker chic, but Kaia seemed oblivious of context, striding forward with purpose and grace as if, to her, the waitresses appeared clad in Hugo Boss, not polyester. She looked completely at ease, though Harper could tell, just from the little things—the single finger she’d used to push open the door as if afraid of the germs, the delicate steps she took as if expecting at any moment to splash her kitten heel into a puddle of mustard—that she was not.

  “Are you kidding me?” Harper muttered to herself. “Maybe she won’t see—”

  “Kaia, over here!” Beth chirped, waving the new girl over. “I invited her to come along,” she explained to the table. “I thought it would be nice—you know, she doesn’t know anyone, and—what?” she asked, irritated, as the boys laughed, while Miranda and Harper just rolled their eyes. “What is it?”

  “It was a nice thing to do,” Adam assured her, laying a hand on hers. “I’m sure she appreciated it.”

  “I know I do,” Kane added, quickly shutting up as Kaia approached.

  “Am I too late?” Kaia asked as she arrived at the table, eyeing the empty ice-cream dishes.

  “No, we haven’t even ordered yet,” Kane reassured her, shifting over to make room for her (now Harper too was smushed against the window—and if there was going to be a male body pressed up against her like this, Kane’s was really not the one she would have chosen). “Don’t worry, Harper just likes to eat dessert first.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Kaia asked, and while her tone was light and pleasant, Harper could feel the girls icy eyes boring through her.

  “So, about this party …” Miranda began, trying to defuse the tension.

  Harper kicked her furiously under the table, but it was too late.

  “Party?” Kaia asked. “Sounds like I’m just in time.”

  “We’re all going to help Harper organize this party thing in a couple of weeks,” Adam explained.

  What was with the “we”? Harper wondered. He hadn’t sounded so enthused a moment ago. Before she walked in.

  “Not all of us,” Beth added, her eyes darting away. “Sorry, Harper, I wish I could help, but I’m way too busy already”

  “What are you talking about?” Adam asked. He whirled to face her, his mouth crinkling into a frown.

  “You know, I have a bunch of after-school meetings, and this new job, and my brothers to take care of, and—”

  “Can’t you just make the time? We never get to do anything like this together,” he complained, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He took her hand in his, but she quickly pulled it away.

  “No, I can’t just make time—it’s not that easy. And anyway—” Beth suddenly realized that the whole table was eagerly watching their back-and-forth. “Can we just talk about this later?” she requested in a more measured tone.

  “Fine. Whatever,” Adam said sulkily. “I guess Kaia can take your spot.”

  “I’m sure Kaia’s way too busy for that sort of thing,” Harper quickly interrupted. “Places to go, people to do, you know how it is.”

  “Harper!” Adam turned toward her, shocked.

  “What? She’s a big-city girl—why would she want to waste her time on small-town shit like this?”

  “Uh, she is sitting right here, you know,” Kaia pointed out. “Though apparently you’d prefer it if I weren’t. Excuse me.” And, perfectly composed, she stood up and glided toward the door.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Adam hissed. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Whatever, she said it herself this morning,” Harper told him. She raised her voice so that more of the restaurant—specifically, those who were putting on a big show of leaving in a petty snit—could hear her. “All she cares about are drugs and sex.”

  “Which should give the two of you a lot in common,” Adam retorted, and pushed himself away from the table, following Kaia out of the restaurant.

  Harper sucked in her breath sharply, and the rest of them stared at her in stunned silence. It was a pretty rare sight to see perpetually good-natured Adam turn ugly—and an even rarer one to see Harper as the target of his attack. Harper squirmed under their gazes and chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. Picking a fight with Adam wasn’t part of tonight’s plans—but then again, having Kaia tag along with the whole party planning thing wasn’t either. There had been a brief, blessed moment, just after Beth had refused to play, when Harper imagined what it might be like, working side by side with Adam—long hours, private strategy sessions, laughter, flirting, and then one day, maybe, she would make her move. Or—even better—he would make his. One moment. And then Kaia had ruined everything.

  Adam soon led Kaia back into the restaurant, his hand held lightly on her back as he guided her down the aisle and back to the table. As Kaia whispered something in his ear and Adam burst into quiet laughter, Harper was hit with a bizarre flash of déjà vu. Hadn’t this scene just happened, with a different starlet playing the role of female ingenue? She wondered if Beth, too, had picked up on the instant replay—then again, Miss Manners really had no one to blame but herself, since she was the one who’d invited the wolf to come have dinner with the lambs.

  Not that Harper had any intention of playing the lamb in this little romantic grudge match.

  Adam and Kaia sat down again, and Harper—after a stern look from Adam—grudgingly apologized. They ate in relative peace, but when the burgers, fries, and Miranda’s salad were gone, no one was in the mood for a second round of desserts.

  As they rose to leave, Adam pulled Harper aside, and they walked slowly, out of earshot of the rest of the group.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For what I said earlier.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Harper told him, not quite meeting his eyes.

  “No, I was totally out of line—it’s just, I’m just a little edgy these days.” They had reached the door, and Adam held it open and swept her through with exaggerated chivalry. She paused in the doorway and looked up at him, his face only inches away. If she stood on her toes, she’d be close enough to … well, it was close. She could smell his cologne, a cool, fresh scent that smelled like rain. Like Adam.

  “Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Harper swallowed her pain and her anger and forced a smile, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I swear—all is forgiven.”

  She glared at Kaia’s back, a few steps ahead.

  Forgiven—but not forgotten.

  Kaia took one last disgusted look at the Nifty Fifties Diner before following the “gang” into the parking lot.This town was pathetic. It was like being trapped in the Vegas stage version of a Dawson’s Creek episode—disgustingly earnest teenagers with boring middle-America issues, prancing around on a set lifted from a Travel Channel rundown of America’s Tackiest Tourist Traps. At least there was some good scenery to look at along the way. Exhibit A: Adam Morgan.

  “You need a ride, Kaia?” he asked, taking Beth’s hand as they headed toward his car, a maroon Chevrolet with a dented fender and a discolored side panel that seemed lifted from a different car.

  Kaia, who had parked her father’s Mustang around
the corner, figured that she could find a way to retrieve it in the morning. Her father was, big shock, out of town—but there were plenty of other cars and people to use. If the maid didn’t have time to run her into town in the Beamer, then the gardener could do it in the Audi. Not a problem.

  “Actually, I was just about to ask,” Kaia answered, smiling at Adam. “I got a ride here from my dad, but he’s out for the night—are you sure it’s not too much trouble? I live pretty far out.”

  Beth laughed and jabbed her boyfriend in the arm good-naturedly. “Are you kidding? Adam loves to drive, don’t you? I think he secretly wishes I lived out in the middle of nowhere so that he’d have more chances to take his prized possession for a real ride.”

  Kaia grinned naughtily at the thought of taking Adam for “a real ride,” but she kept her mouth shut—it was just too easy. Besides, she’d already committed herself to playing the wounded good girl role. Her little chat with Adam earlier had convinced her that he was just burning for a chance to play knight in shining armor to some fragile princess. And Kaia was happy to accommodate him—which meant the knee-jerk sex kitten comments would just have to go unspoken.

  “Great,” she said, trying her best not to wrinkle her nose at the sight of Adam’s Chevy It looked even more wretched close up, like a junk heap molded into the shape of a car, held together with duct tape. Prized possession? It didn’t speak very well for his taste—of course, from what she’d seen so far, neither did Beth. But she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  She looked over her shoulder at Kane, who was climbing into a vintage silver Camaro. And he was just as hot as Adam, though he lacked the adorable Southern accent. But the guy was obviously a total player—and thus not nearly as much fun to play with. No, she decided, climbing into the backseat and slamming the door shut behind her, Adam it is. At least for now.

  Beth and Adam chattered together in the front while Kaia sat in silence, watching the dark streets fly by.