by Jana David
Allie
Darcy didn't even ask if I was staying over at his place again. There was no question about it.
As the door closed behind us, all the laughter and excitement from the afternoon faded away.
The awkwardness was back, and I wondered if he felt it, too.
As soon as I got my shoes off, I excused myself, mumbling something about putting my coat away and almost ran up the stairs, closing the door to Ian's room firmly behind me. With my back pressed against it, I stood there, eyes closed, taking deep, slow breaths and waiting for my heart to return to it's normal pace.
The fact that I had lied to Ian about where and whom I was spending Christmas with was still nagging at me. And as much as I tried to justify it, there was really no excuse. I was left feeling so confused and more alone than ever, because who could I turn to, really? Not my two best friends, that was for sure. His call that afternoon had let me with emotions I couldn't quite sort out. I had looked forward to speaking to him, but at the same time had dreaded it. When I heard his voice, it was comforting and unsettling at the same time. What was happening? I stayed up there a while, hoping an answer would just magically present itself. It didn't.
When I came back down, Darcy was sitting on the sofa, a cup of steaming hot tea in front of him.
“I made you one, too”, he said, gesturing to the second cup which stood on the coffee table.
I sat down next to him, and he turned on the TV.
It all seemed so normal, nothing special at all, yet I was so hyper aware of his body next to mine, it was impossible to concentrate on anything else. I had never felt like this, so on edge around a person. With Ian it was the complete opposite. In his presence, I always felt calm and centred, as if nothing could go wrong.
Now, sitting beside Darcy, I was bombarded with a variety of feelings, but none of them could be described as calm and centred.
He put his arm on the back of the couch again, like he had done the night before, and I found myself leaning into him. We watched some cooking show, but don't ask me what it was they were cooking.
I must have drifted off to sleep yet again, because the next thing I was aware of, was being carried up the stairs, the blanket from the sofa still wrapped around me. I was drowsy with sleep, but awake enough to know what was going on.
Darcy gently lowered me onto the bed, disentangled the blanket from my body and pulled the covers up to my chin, even tucking in the corners.
I smiled up at him, eyes half-closed, and I heard him chuckle.
“Goodnight, Princess”, he said.
I knew he was going to turn around and leave, but I didn't want him to. Quickly I reached up and managed to catch his hand by the fingertips.
“Please don't leave.”
Darcy stopped.
“Stay”, I said, even though that little voice in my head screamed at me to tell him to leave.
He turned around to face me. “You want me to sleep with you?” We both paused for a second. “And I mean just sleep”, he clarified hastily.
I was too tired to be embarrassed by that comment. I was in this blissful in-between state of consciousness and sleep. “Like a sleepover”, I mumbled into the pillow.
He was still hesitant. “A sleepover?”
“Yeah, like we used to do. Remember?”
“I remember.”
The next thing I was aware of was the bed dipping down as he sat on the edge
I heard some rustling and then the blanket was pulled back and Darcy slipped under the covers. He was careful not to touch me at first. We lay there, side by side, and all of a sudden I didn't feel so sleepy any more.
Eventually, he rolled onto his side, facing me. I could feel his hot breath tickling my hair.
My eyes were firmly closed, but that only meant I was so much more aware of every breath he took, every tiny movement he made.
When his hand touched my hip, it made me jump. I didn't stop him, though. The warmth of his hand burned through my clothes
I didn't move an inch after that. And neither did he. Eventually, his breathing became deep and even, and so did mine.
Maybe it was all just a dream?
The next few days we spent reminiscing about old times, and at the same time got to know each other again, rediscovering likes and dislikes of the other person, sometimes with surprising results.
I learned, for example, that Darcy liked asparagus now, when four years ago, he couldn't even stand the sight of it. But I guess I had changed, too. I wasn't as scared of horror movies any more, for example, which Darcy found out the hard way when he dared me to watch 'The Ring' with him and I actually did. I only covered my eyes on a few scenes, and made it the whole way through without screaming. Darcy bought me dinner after that.
We continued our routine of falling asleep together. Neither of us mentioned it, and we kept pretending it was unintentional, but let's face it, it wasn't. I became used to having a warm, soft, human pillow that smelled like a forest in the springtime, and all we did was sleep. Nothing more happened. So it was okay, wasn't it? At least, that's what I told myself.
We moved from Ian's bed to Darcy's room after that first night, though. We never talked about that, either.
Ian called daily, telling me tales of his days spent snowboarding, visiting thermal baths, and eating excellent French food, but I barely listened to his stories. I still felt so guilty for not telling him the truth. Gone was that carefree feeling, the butterflies in my stomach whenever I heard his voice. Now, all I felt was dread when his name lit up on the screen.
I still couldn't be honest with him, though.
Then came New Year's Eve, and since neither of us felt like going out, Darcy and I decided to cook something fancy, play some boardgames and wait for the new year to start.
“Champagne or wine?” Darcy asked, holding up a bottle of each. We were out shopping for supplies.
“Are we going to get drunk again?” I teased. “At this rate, we'll both be raging alcoholics before this year is over.”
“Right. So which one?”
I pointed at the champagne.
“Excellent choice”, Darcy said, putting it into our basket.
“How about we start buying some actual food now”, I suggested. Aside from the champagne and a packet of crisps, the basket was still empty.
“Okay.” Darcy put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “How about we play a game?” he whispered in my ear.
I was intrigued. “What kind of game?” I whispered back.
Darcy's smile grew. “We each have to go and get the ingredients for what we would consider a good dinner.”
“And then the winner gets a prize? Going to a store and picking up items you might like is generally considered 'shopping' and it's not really a game”, I told him. His idea didn't sound all too exciting.
Darcy held up a finger, silencing me. “I wasn't done yet”, he said. “You have to find the ingredients for a good dinner, but the catch is, you can only take items out of other peoples shopping baskets.”
I nearly choked on thin air. “No”, I protested, “we can't do that.”
“Come on, it's not like we would be stealing anything”, he said.
“Technically not, but...it's kind of a mean thing to do still...”
“C'mon, live a little, little Miss Wright.”
“You have a dark, dark soul, Darcy Brown.” I pushed his arm from my shoulder.
Darcy just smiled a wicked smile. “I know. But so do you”, he said.
I wanted to protest, tell him it wasn't true, but deep down I knew he was right. I considered his little 'game',and I had to admit I did find it intriguing. A small smile spread across my lips. Call me crazy, but I actually felt a thrill of excitement as I thought about it.
Darcy saw it, too. “So, are you up for it?” he asked.
Was I? That was a good question.
“Fine, let's do it.” I raised and eyebrow at him. “But no cheating.”
“But Al, I
would never...” And with that, he turned around and picked a bag of salad right out of an old lady's shopping trolley while she was deciding which milk to buy.
“Don't steal from old ladies!” I whisper-hissed at him as he put the salad into our basket. The poor woman never noticed anything as she happily turned around and put the milk into her trolley.
“Sorry”, he said, “you're right. From now on, no old ladies. Your turn now.”
I still wasn't sure if I actually had the guts to do this. It wasn't stealing, per se, since we were still in the store and nobody had paid for anything yet, but regardless of that, it was wrong, and part of me wanted nothing to do with it. There was this other part of me, however, that enjoyed the thrill and wanted to take the dare.
Before I could chicken out, I reached into our basket, got the bag of lettuce, and when the old lady turned towards the shelves, inspecting the eggs, I slipped the bag of lettuce back in with the rest of her groceries.
“That one doesn't count”, Darcy said when I came back to him.
I shrugged. “Fine, but if I snatch something now, I get a bonus point”, I told him.
I looked around for an easy target with a good selection of items in their trolley.
A woman caught my attention. She had a child with her, and was busy keeping the toddler from knocking every single item off the shelves. I stepped closer, pretending I was interested in the canned peaches, and when I was sure the woman couldn't see, I reached out and snagged up her Camembert.
As I made my way back to Darcy, I did a little victory dance in the middle of the aisle.
“Nicely done”, he congratulated me. “The only thing is, I hate Camembert.”
“Well, more for me then”, I said, placing it into our basket.
We continued this little game for the next half hour, until our shopping basket was full, and we had everything we wanted.
“See, that was fun, wasn't it?” Darcy said on the way to the checkout. “You don't always have to be the responsible adult, Al. Every now and then you are allowed to do something stupid.”
“Yeah, well, that definitely was stupid. Fun, but stupid.” I replied.
He didn't disagree with me. And that was why we needed Ian. He'd never let us do something like this.
Back home, we used all the ingredients we had acquired at the supermarket to cook ourselves another feast. We ended up with a crazy assortment of foods, some of which probably didn't go together all that well, and I had a fun time trying to get Darcy to eat some of the Camembert.
Then we sat down for a serious boardgaming session. Another thing we had fond memories of from our childhood. I beat Darcy all four times playing Battleship. He got his revenge when we switched to Scrabble, though.
It was almost midnight when I got up off the floor and announced it was time for the champagne.
“See, your worries were all for nothing. It is almost midnight on New Year's Eve, no less, and we are both still completely sober.” Darcy commented while he put the Scrabble board away.
“Yeah, let's change that”, I said, opening the bottle and getting two glasses out of the cupboard. The boys didn't have any champagne flutes, so I poured some in wine glasses.
Darcy turned on the TV, and we waited for the countdown and the fireworks to start.
As I was staring at the TV, not really watching, my mind wandered to the moment the clock would strike midnight. Would we simply clink our glasses and then head off to bed?
Another thought crossed my mind. Of a scenario that wasn't quite so innocent.
The countdown started. Neither of us said a word.
I looked over at Darcy, studying his profile. It would be so easy to simply lean over and kiss him. The thought scared and thrilled me at the same time. What was I doing? I wasn't supposed to have these feelings. I was supposed to be on the phone with someone else right now. Someone who was probably waiting for me to call.
Just as I was about to turn around and pretend I hadn't just totally fantasised about kissing Darcy, he turned his head, caught me staring, and that was it.
I simply couldn't turn away.
The countdown went on, but it became a blur of lights and sound. I could only focus on his face.
He was equally focused on me. There was no denying it now.
He leaned in, hesitant at first, but when I did nothing to stop him, he closed the distance, only stopping when his nose was pressed up against my cheek. Our lips were almost touching. His breath fell hot onto my skin.
A sensation unlike any other spread through my whole body. All my senses were consumed by him and nothing else.
“Allie”, he whispered, desperation in his voice, “I need you to say something. Tell me—“ He broke off, pulling back with a pained expression on his face.
I reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, holding it tight, trying to stop him from stopping this.
It was wrong, and we both knew it. We were betraying a friend.
And yet I found myself saying, “Don't run, please.”
He exhaled. “That wasn't what I wanted you to say”, he said. And then he opened his eyes, and I could see them darkening like the sky before an impending storm.
Before I knew what I was doing, my hand came to rest on his chest. Slowly, I took my time to slide my fingers up, exploring and committing the feel of his body to memory. He simply stayed still, watching me the entire time, making my heart race and my body tingle.
My fingers moved up to his face, tracing the outline of his jaw, and then moving to his lips. I let my fingers linger there, as his mouth parted slightly, and his tongue darted out, tracing the path my fingers made across his lips.
It was easily the most intense moment I'd ever experienced with another person, and we hadn't even kissed yet.
I pulled my hand away from his lips and let it trail down his throat
We never broke eye-contact as I continued to explore his features. I could feel the pulse beat at the base of his throat. It was a strong, steady beat. He was breathing just as heavily as I was now.
And then it was as if a dam had broken. Darcy caught my face in his hands. I was reminded of our first kiss all those years ago.
This time was different, though. When his lips met mine, there wasn't a spark of hesitation or awkwardness. It was pure perfection.
For the first time in my life I understood the meaning of the phrase 'losing yourself in a kiss'. His taste, the feeling of his lips against mine, it all sent such an intense response through my body, it was almost overwhelming.
His tongue teased mine, lightly at first, then more demanding. I returned the kiss just as fiercely. My hands continued exploring him as the last of the walls between us crumbled to the ground.
When we broke apart, I came back to reality with a harshness that was almost painful.
The TV showed people cheering in clouds of confetti. There were fireworks going off in the background. The new year was here. We'd missed it. I couldn't have cared less.
At that moment, I didn't care about anything but the kiss. Ian didn't even cross my mind.