Close to Me

by Monica Murphy

  I don’t know what to say. The fondness in Ash’s voice is obvious. He loved his dad. And he lost him. I want to ask how, when, why, but I keep my mouth shut.

  “He gave up smoking that very same day too. I never saw him light up a cigarette again. All books of matches and lighters vanished from our house. Poof.” He snaps his fingers, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet. “Gone. Like magic.”

  Is he making this story up? I don’t know. There are too many details…

  “I could’ve ended up in jail,” he continues.

  I snort-laugh, unable to stop myself. “Please. You were six.”

  “Already a hardened criminal at six.” He smiles, his teeth shining in the darkness. “I think you like bad boys, Callahan.”

  “Shut up.” I shove at him, my hand making contact with his thigh, and I marvel at how lean and hard it is. All muscle.

  “See? You did that so you could touch me.” He laughs and somehow produces a pack of matches, pulling one off the tab and lighting it with a flick of his wrist. He holds the match up close to his face, the flicker and glow casting shadows across his sharp cheekbones. His equally sharp nose. His full lips. “I still like playing with matches.”

  “I know. I remember the first time I met you, that’s what you were doing.” How could I forget? The sullen boy sitting on the bench, talking about pussy shots and lighting matches.

  “I remember that too.” He stretches his arm out toward me, the lit match coming closer to my face, and I flinch when the flame flickers. “Don’t worry. I won’t burn you.”

  Such a pretty lie that falls from his lips. “You already have.”

  His smile falters and he brings the match up to his mouth, blowing out the flame. The interior of the truck goes dark, and it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light that’s shining from one of the parking lot’s lampposts. “You’ve burned me too.”

  How, I’m not sure, but I’m not in the mood to argue with him.

  “The problem with fire is that it burns,” he says when I haven’t responded to him. “Hot and fast. Totally destructive.”

  He could be talking about himself.

  “Destroying everything in its path.”

  Definitely talking about himself.

  “Turning everything to ashes,” I add, sending him a pointed look.

  Yes, I’m talking about you, Ash. And your name.

  “Makes sense, right? That they call me Ash. That I like fire. I’m a goddamned cliché.” He stubs the forgotten cigarette out in the ashtray and then reaches for a pack of gum that’s sitting on the dash. I look around, noticing there’s a lot of miscellaneous crap on his dashboard. It’s actually pretty huge. “Want one?” He offers the pack to me. “In case for later?”

  “What’s going to happen later?” I take a piece, glaring at him. “I’m not going to let you kiss me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He laughs. “I like how you go straight to kissing. Makes me think you missed it.”

  “I kiss Ben,” I say primly.

  “Is it the same, though, Callahan? Really?”

  “Definitely not,” I say confidently. I enjoy kissing Ben.

  Kissing Ash left me…unsettled. Restless.

  Needy.

  Sighing, he shakes his head. “I’m not the one who wants to kiss. More like you’re gonna want to kiss me.” He unwraps the stick of gum and shoves it into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. “I won’t have to do a damn thing. You’ll be slobbering all over me in minutes.”

  “Fuck you.” I delicately set the piece of gum in my mouth and start chewing, keeping my lips closed.

  “Jeez, Callahan, nice language.” He’s laughing again. Studying me like I’m some big joke. And I want to smack him. Hurt him.

  “You bring out the worst in me,” I tell him with a delicate sniff.

  “Really? And here I thought I brought out the best in you.” His gaze drops to my lips, and I know he’s looking at them on purpose. Trying to get my imagination to go haywire so I’ll uncontrollably jump him.

  Or maybe that’s my vivid imagination kicking into high gear. I’m not sure.

  “It’s best that we keep our distance.” And that’s exactly why we haven’t spoke for the last year, I’m sure.

  “Says who? Your faithful Ben?”

  “Stop making fun of Ben.”

  “I’m not making fun of him. He is faithful, right? He cares about you? I’m sure he’s told you he loves you. I bet he tells you that on the daily. The dumbshit probably means every word he says, too.” Ash shakes his head, shaking the hair out of his eyes. The movement causes his scent to waft toward me. Clean. Soapy, and I’m guessing it’s his shampoo. He smells like maybe he just got out of the shower. He most likely did. And I don’t want to think about Ash in the shower. Naked. Warm water streaming over his body.

  Briefly I close my eyes, banishing the mental image from my brain. I press my lips together, remaining silent. No way am I going to tell him we haven’t said I love you to each other yet. He’d latch onto that and never let go.

  “He’s what you were looking for last year, and what I’ll never be. You know that, right?” His voice is soft and I chance a look at him to find he’s already watching me. His eyes glow in the darkness, and the sincerity etched all over his stupidly gorgeous face makes my heart soften a little bit.

  “I wasn’t looking for anything from you,” I tell him.

  “Sure you were. You all do.” He pauses for a moment. “I made you mad.”

  “What girl wouldn’t be mad when the boy who just kissed her said he couldn’t feel anything?” The words escape me before I can stop them, but fortunately, I don’t regret saying them. He should hear what I have to say. He should know how stupid he sounds.

  “I still can’t feel anything.” His voice is deep. Low. I lean toward him to hear him better. “I think it’s gone.”

  I’m frowning. “What’s gone?”

  He taps the center of his chest. “My heart. I don’t have one. My chest is hollow.”

  I have a sudden memory of a movie Mom loves. I can’t remember what it’s called. A girl takes in this weird guy who claims to have a baboon’s heart, and when I was young, I thought it was the stupidest movie ever. While Mom is sitting there crying over the end, saying how much she loved it.

  Why would you love a movie that makes you cry?

  And why does a sixteen-year-old boy say that he doesn’t have a heart? Does he mean he actually doesn’t have one? If that’s the case, he’d be dead.

  “What are you? Some kind of psycho?” I sound mean, but I’m still hurting over last year’s interlude.

  Not that I’d ever admit that to him.

  His big brown eyes remind me of a puppy dog’s, and the longer he stays quiet, the more I start to think he’s putting one on me.

  “You’re so full of shit,” I finally say with a shake my head.

  He’s grinning, the asshole. “Did you really think I meant that? That I literally have no heart? I mean, come on, Callahan. You’d have to be the stupidest person alive to believe that kind of shit.”

  “You definitely qualify for that,” I mutter, reaching for the door handle.

  He’s on me in an instant. Hovering above me, I can feel his body heat, though we’re not quite touching. “Don’t leave.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just—stay for a few minutes longer. It can be our little secret.” He eases away from me when he must sense I’m not going to make a run for it. “It’s nice, playing catch up.”

  It sort of is, but it’s also incredibly annoying. I can’t take him seriously, though I’m desperate to. I can’t believe a word he says.

  I also can’t sit with a boy I used to like and pretend I have zero feelings for him. That would be…

  A lie.

  Ten

  “So. Where is Ben anyway?”

  Now we’re making idle conversation? Okay, I can do this. “Don’t you know? You’re the one who told
me he’s gone for the weekend.”

  Ash makes a scoffing noise, focusing his attention on the windshield in front of us. He shifts his right leg up so his knee is resting on the edge of the steering wheel, and I stare at him unabashedly. I swear to God he’s gotten even better looking over the last year. He’s filled out some. More defined muscles, taller. His jaw is sharper, there’s a shadow there, like he might need to shave, and I find that incredibly appealing.

  “I don’t give a shit about what he’s doing,” he says morosely.

  I sit up a little straighter, contemplating him. He’s lying. I can tell. I don’t know why I know this, but my senses are tingling big time, like I’m Spider-Man and I just discovered the Green Goblin has been sitting next to me the entire time. “Right. That’s why you keep bringing him up. Because you don’t give a shit about him.”

  “I don’t.” It’s like he refuses to look at me. “That guy sucks.”

  “That guy is my boyfriend.”

  “And don’t the two of you make a lovely couple.” His voice pitches higher and wobbles, as if he’s trying to sound like a sweet old woman, and I want to laugh. “You probably have your baby names picked out along with your wedding colors.”

  No wedding colors. But I do keep a running list of favorite names on the Notes app on my phone. That has nothing to do with Ben. I’m just trying to keep a record of my favorites.

  “I don’t want to marry him,” I say.

  “Really?” Ash turns his head toward mine, our gazes meeting once more. “I figured you two had already sealed the deal.”

  He’s not talking about promises of marriage. He’s talking about sex. And I’m not admitting crap to him. “We’re very close.”

  “That’s very nice.” He mimics my tone. “You two have my condolences.”

  I frown again. “Isn’t that what you say to someone when they’ve lost their loved ones? Or they’re at a funeral?”

  “Exactly. So it’s my condolences to you two for this ultra-amazing, soul-sucking relationship you’re involved in. Enjoy it while you can. You two kids deserve each other.” He’s reaching for the cigarette packet when I stop him, my fingers barely touching the warm, smooth skin of the inside of his wrist.

  He stops moving, his gaze flickering to mine, and I slowly shake my head. “You’re just jealous.”

  Another scoff. This one louder. “My ass I’m jealous.”

  I part my lips, ready to let the accusations fly, when he’s suddenly tugging me down, my butt sliding off the old bench seat, my entire body folded into the passenger floorboard beneath the dash. I glance up to find Ash lying down, stretched across the entire bench seat, a wild look in his eyes.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I brush at the back of my legs, wondering exactly how many feet have rested against this floorboard over the years. And all the dirt and germs that might still linger.

  Ash presses a finger against his mouth to silence me and I keep my lips tightly together, glaring at him for long, agonizing minutes, until he slowly raises his head before letting out a relieved breath.

  “That was a close one.”

  I’m rolling my eyes. “What happened?”

  “A bunch of people from the cheer team just walked by and got in their cars.” At this very moment I hear the sounds of multiple engines starting.

  “A bunch?” I know of a whopping two who were still in the cheer room, so I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

  “A couple of cheerleaders, your bitch-ass coach. That chick who runs the band and looks younger than me, for fuck’s sake.” Ash shakes his head. “They’re the ones who walked by just now.”

  So glad my coach didn’t see me with Ash. She might ask all sorts of questions. Questions I can’t answer. “Can I sit back on the seat then?”

  “Sure.” He reaches for my hand and hauls me up, pulling with such force that I go toppling forward, landing right on top of him. Somehow, my knees end up on either side of hips, and I’m basically sitting on his lap. His hands automatically go to my waist, his fingers burning through the thick fabric of my uniform skirt, and I want to tell him to get his hands off me.

  But I don’t.

  I also want to tell him to stop staring at my mouth.

  I don’t do that either.

  It’s like I melt against him. My entire body goes soft. Then hot. His hands slide around, until his hands are pressed against the lowest spot of my spine, and I tilt my head up, my eyes sliding close when his mouth finds mine.

  It’s wrong. So wrong. I’m with Ben. Ben is my boyfriend. He has been for six months, and like everyone says, we make a great couple.

  Yet I can’t deny the electric spark that flashes between our lips at first contact. I can’t control the throbbing of my heart, the heat between my legs, the tingles that sweep over me in a slow, steady glide when Ash’s tongue slowly circles around mine.

  That last kiss. Our first kiss, was all heat and impatience and hunger.

  This kiss, our second kiss, is just as hungry. But slower. More determined.

  More delicious.

  One of his hands comes up, cupping the side of my face. The other hand slides down, over my butt, slipping beneath my pleated skirt. I have on briefs and his hand is right there, covering practically my entire left butt cheek, and then…

  And then.

  I’m climbing him like a tree, trying to get closer. My lips, my hands, my body is filled with this strange urgency I’ve never felt before. I want to rub my body on his like I’m a cat. I want to wrap my legs around his hips and squeeze extra tight. I’m desperate to ease the ache that’s growing inside of me. Growing, growing, growing until I’m panting against his lips.

  He smiles, I can feel his lips stretching against mine, and he says, “See? I knew you’d be slobbering all over me.”

  His words are the icy-cold dump of water over my head that I need. I push away from him, disentangling myself, scrambling off his lap. Red-hot embarrassment burns like a river inside me, splitting me open, leaving me raw.

  “I hate you.” I fumble with the handle and somehow open the door, desperate to escape. To get away from Ash Davis once and for all.

  He calls my name but I don’t look back. I’m running to my car, stabbing the keyless remote with my fingers, eager to get into the car for fear he might catch up to me. Touch me again.

  Make me weak again.

  I collapse into the driver’s seat and slam the door, starting the car and pulling out of the lot without thinking. I just do. My hands are on the steering wheel, I’m making my way home, turning onto all the right roads, and when I finally pull into our curved driveway, I realize I’m not sure how I made it here.

  Dried tears leave my cheeks sticky, and my eyes burn. All because of him. That kiss, that moment was a mistake.

  A big one.

  Eleven

  I spend the entirety of my Saturday in bed, holed up in my room. Mom and Dad left around two, taking my brothers and sister with them. They were going to a football game at the state university that’s about an hour away from us. They got special box seats thanks to someone Dad knows, and Mom practically begged me to go, but I told them I didn’t feel well and I’d rather stay home.

  The last thing I wanted to do was go to the tailgate party and act like everything’s fine. Mom said I could bring Kaya, but she’s too perceptive. She’d know immediately something was up. I can’t tell her what happened. She’d tell Jaden and he’d tell Ben and it would turn into a huge mess. One I’m not ready to face yet.

  That’s why I’m still in bed. Still weepy. The guilt is killing me, and it doesn’t matter how much I try to justify it by thinking, It was just a kiss. One little kiss. No big deal.

  I can’t call it “just a kiss”. It was more than that. It was a huge deal.

  I cheated on Ben. I can’t take that back. Anyone at school finds out, and our relationship is over. I’d bet a million bucks that Ash—the smug asshole—would totally tell Ben come Monday morni
ng. I may as well prepare for it now. My first high school relationship is about to come to a spectacular end.

  My phone starts ringing and I pick it up to see it’s Kaya FaceTiming me. I wipe at my face, give up immediately and answer the call.

  “Holy shit you look terrible,” is how she greets me, Daphne appearing behind her with a frown.

  “What happened to you?” Daphne asks.

  I offer a weak smile. “Gee, thanks guys.”

  “Seriously, have you been crying?” Kaya looms closer in the screen, her eyebrows scrunched in concern. I know she has my best interests at heart, considering she’s my best friend, and Daphne is my next closest friend, but I can’t tell them this. I just…I can’t. A secret isn’t a secret any longer once another person knows.

  Meaning my secret is already exposed, considering it’s between me and Ash.

  “No, I feel like shit.” I sniff to emphasize what I just said, and decide I need to make it seem like I have a cold. Poor me, woe is me. Sick as a dog.

  “It’s been going around,” Daphne says, sounding like a mom. She is sort of like a mother figure in our friend group, always taking care of everyone. “Don’t tell me Ben gave it to you.”

  She’d die if she knew it was Ash who gave me my current illness. “He’s not sick. He’s not even here.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot he was gone for the weekend.” Kaya’s face brightens and she smiles at Daphne before turning to look at me. “You should come over and spend the night!”

  That is the absolute last thing I should do. I’d rather wallow in my misery by myself, thank you very much. “I feel terrible, Kaya. Besides, you guys don’t want to catch this.”

  “True.” She wrinkles her nose. “You’re probably contagious.”

  If misery is catching, then yes. I’m totally contagious. “Right, so you don’t want to be around me.”