by Sally Henson
The weight of his hand dents the bed on the other side of me. He has me trapped so I can’t get up.
I’m about to go ape-crazy and his voice is as smooth as a milkshake. “I knew you were jealous of her. I don’t know why, but I could tell that day we met for lunch at Lake Nellie. You wouldn’t even say her name, and I didn’t want you to think about it, because there’s nothing to think about.”
“Of course, I’m jealous. She’s so pretty and you have history together. And she’s older. And here, every day.” I sniff. “And I’m not! I knew I recognized her when I saw her in the bathroom.”
“At Panther’s?”
“Yeah.”
He pushes out a rumbled sigh. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing going on with her. I was going to tell you everything when you came back to the table.”
A tinge of hope flickers inside me, but is this another lie? I don’t know what to think anymore.
“I’m going to tell you something.” He swallows. “Something I’ve never, ever, told anyone before.”
30
Regan
I slowly open my eyes, and he’s boring his intense stare right into me.
“Johanna didn’t break up with me because she was moving.”
I draw my brows tight and roll slightly to my side to see him better. Lane’s never talked about their break-up, not since it happened, but when he did, he said they broke up because she was moving.
He looks down at his blanket and takes a deep breath. His eyes flicker back to mine. “She told me …” He glances away for a moment. “She told me all I did was talk about you, and she was tired of taking second place to an eighth-grader. Her last words to me were, ‘I think it’s sick you have the hots for an eighth grader.”
How do I know if he’s telling me the truth? He’s kept her being in his class from me. Every muscle hurts. They hurt more than my burns, but my heart hurts more than anything. I sit up and look at him face to face. We’ve known each other our whole lives. I should be able to tell if he’s lying to me.
His shoulders slump. “I couldn’t believe she said it. I didn’t think it was fair or true, but …” He scoffs out a dry laugh and brings his eyes to meet mine. “It took me a couple years to figure out she was right.”
Oh, Lane. I watch his eyes, his actions. I think he’s telling the truth.
He reaches for my hand. “Regan, you’re the only one. And I don’t know why you keep questioning it. Don’t I show you how much you mean to me? Why do you keep doubting us?”
My chest puffs, my eyes round, my aw clenches. I think he’s given me plenty of reason to doubt lately. “You’re the one who’s been asking all the questions about spending enough time together, age difference, and everything. You’re the one who’s been keeping things from me. You kissed her.”
Lane looks down at our hands. A small smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “It’s only me and you, Regan.”
“If that’s true, why did you hug her? Kiss her?” My heartstrings are wrapping around my heart, leaving it bruised and bleeding.
He shakes his head. “She kissed me. It took me off guard. And I hugged her like I’d hug your mom.”
“Right. This is exactly what Susanna and Linc said would happen. Exactly. You’d fall back in with your ex or fall for someone your own age living in the same world as you, blah blah blah.” My teeth grind together so tightly my jaw begins to hurt. I’d rather feel physical pain than this heartbreak, rejection, and deception.
“We promised each other … if this—” He his arm indicating both of us, together. “isn’t enough, if I’m not enough for you or you’re not enough for me, we’d say so. Remember?” His voice is gravelly, still trying to convince me.
I keep my eyes closed and nod. “Yeah.” That drive to Tobi’s was painfully confusing, just as much as this very moment. The same pain in my chest and shredding of my heart from then is happening now, too. “I want to believe you’re telling me the truth, but there’s so much going against us.”
“Johanna’s pretty, but she doesn’t even compare to you. She never has. That’s why she broke up with me. And I didn’t even care that she did. I didn’t care that she dumped me.” He looks away to his hand on mine. “I hated the way she made me feel like a creeper because you were in junior high and I was in high school.” He looks up through his long lashes at me. “I guess I liked you more than a friend back then, and she could tell.”
I look down at my hand in his and realize I’m crazy-girl jealous of her and squeeze my eyes shut. And I hate feeling like an insecure little girl. Was there anything back then that might suggest we felt this way about each other? Maybe little things, like his playing with my hair. I don’t even remember when that started. Maybe how sometimes we catch each other staring, but we don’t turn away. It’s been happening for years.
I didn’t like that Johanna stole my time with Lane. Johanna was never nice to me. She told me I was just a cute little pet to Lane, and she was going to make him get rid of me. “I don’t know, maybe we’ve had this more-than-friends connection longer than we realized.”
The weight on the bed shifts and I open my eyes just as Lane’s kiss meets my cheek. He motions with his head to lie back down. “Let me put this stuff on your back.”
I settle back on the bed. My heart’s being squeezed again. I don’t know if it’s because of him or me or torn in between. It could be my ugly green-eyed monster.
Lane lifts my shirt and I have the same reaction as before when his fingers graze my skin.
“I’m sorry. Are my hands cold?”
I close my eyes. “No. They’re toasty.”
A soft chuckle spills out of him. “Good,” as he finishes medicating my tender skin. “She’s completely annoying, by the way. All she does is blab about nothing in class.”
I glance to see his expression. He tilts his head when our eyes meet. The corner of his mouth quirks up. Mine does the same. We look at each other for a long moment before he turns his focus to my wounds again.
His gentle touch causes my lids to slide shut. Every fiber and muscle releases in a slow, rolling wave. This drama stuff is exhausting. Like, I could fall asleep right now and not wake up until morning exhausting. It’s not a good option, though, since I’m in Lane’s dorm room lying on his bed. I open my eyes and look for a distraction.
His guitar’s sitting in a stand between the wall and his dresser. It’s connected through a cable to a small speaker on the corner of his dresser. “Have you learned anything yet?”
“Hmm?” He's still lingering over my back.
“Your guitar. Can you play anything yet?” He’s taking forever. I think he could’ve wiped my whole back down by now.
“A little.”
I glance back at him and see the smile I love so much.
“All done.” His smile goes away when he clears his throat. “Do I need to check the front?”
My heart goes from sixty to one-hundred in two seconds flat. “No. I already checked that out.” I can’t imagine showing my body like that to anyone. Mmmm, that’s not entirely true. I can very much imagine showing my future husband every part of me, but I’ve got about six or seven years until then.
“You're sure? Sit up and let me see.” Lane tries to look innocent, with his baby-deer eyes, but the smirk etched across his face gives him away.
I swat at him.
He can't hold it in anymore and laughs out. “I'm just kidding.” I roll my eyes. He wipes his fingers on a tissue and leans over my back. “I'm sorry you were burned … about everything.” His voice drops low and quiet and sincere.
I’m afraid to really trust him. Afraid because of Susanna, and Lincoln, and Dad. “I went to Susanna’s after the game last night. She griped me out, telling me I’m following in her footsteps. She thinks I’m going to end up like her.”
He moves a strand of hair off my face with his fingers. “She knows?”
I shake my head. “She thinks she knows.” I shrug. “Maybe she doe
s know. She says she can tell I like you. Plus, all the rumors going around about me right now.” Tears sting my eyes when I remember my dream. “I had a dream last night that I was living in that same crappy trailer with a little boy on my hip, while I’m trying to fix us something to eat in the kitchen.”
Lane wipes the drops of tears that spilled over their borders. “Were we together?”
I shake my head. “That’s all I remember of it.”
He looks above the bed, out the window, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. He snorts lightly. “I never really understood why you can’t wait to get out of Stelmo, but … I get it now.”
A couple more drops of moisture stream down my face.
“Are we okay? Can we rewind to the spot where you whispered those three little words at Panther’s?” His eyes glisten too, connecting with mine again.
My body is a heavy magnet stuck in place and my voice along with it. I wish we could . . . rewind to that point in time. Before I saw her kiss him.
He grasps the edge of my shirt and kisses my back, away from the burn. A buzz spreads through me, causing me to stop breathing. We look at each other. His eyes widen at first, and then soften with his smile. He looks back to my skin, slowly lowering the shirt, careful not to scrape my blisters with it. We both act as if his lips didn't touch the skin on my lower back five seconds ago.
Lane blows out a long, heavy sigh. “We shouldn’t let other people dictate our lives like this. It’s making things complicated when they don’t need to be.”
The weight of his hand on the bed, tilts me into the dip. It’s hard for me to have this conversation. I don’t like to fight—I don’t want to fight. And just twenty minutes ago I was ready to take my pride and walk away. I scoop up some courage and slide my body to the edge of the bed to see him. It’s true, I have been letting their words skew how I see Lane, see us, doubting everything I know Lane to be.
“Let’s dump all this secret stuff. I hate it.” He lowers himself along the opposite edge of the bed, folding his arm under his head for a pillow.
The jitters make an appearance, bouncing against my sternum. I want to kiss those lips of his.
“I hated not telling you Johanna was in my class, I hate not being able to call you at your house anytime I want, I hate having to hide what I feel for you from the whole stinkin' world.” His hand flies in the air and lands on the back of his neck where he rubs it, waiting with brows raised for me to respond.
“What, tell our parents?” I pull his pillow under my head.
He hitches his shoulder and glances at his T-shirt I’m wearing. “Yeah. Tell everyone. Stop keeping secrets.”
I drop my gaze to his T-shirt. “What if my dad says no again?”
Lane slowly shakes his head. “Our moms seemed to like the idea of us together. We can go to them first and ask for their help if we need it.”
Mom did almost make me choke, at Sunday dinner that fateful, disastrous day, when she suggested Lane and I would. “Can you stand up to my dad?”
“Can you?” He threw that one a little too fast.
That stings. I feel like I’m already pushing my luck with Dad on my college path, but I can’t keep hiding how I feel about Lane from everyone. It’s too exhausting. I take in a few deep breaths to think more clearly. Is this what I want? Am I ready to fight for Lane?
Lane swings his legs over the edge of the bed, turning his back on me.
The heartstrings tug, pulling my life-giving muscle into the pit of my stomach. “Are you sure? We have two years before I can be at college with you.” Maybe I took too long to answer.
He plugs the guitar in, checks the sound level, and sits back down on the bed with his guitar. “Ross taught me some chords on his guitar before you gave me this outlandish gift. That's the only reason I can play a little.” He plays a few chords of some songs. “I only know how to play the choruses right now,” he says, turning his head back to look at me.
“You sound great, Lane.”
“Regan,” he strums the strings. “I’m more than sure about us. I want you to be more than sure, too.” He swivels his head to look at me. “Are you?” Lane begins another song.
I don't recognize it at first. “Is that the song you were humming the night I surprised you with your present? The night you danced in the headlights with me?”
“Mm-hm.” He doesn't turn, but keeps his eyes trained on his fingers pressing against the strings as he plays.
“What is it?”
“I don't know what it is yet. Something I've been working on.” He’s so modest and humble.
I sit up on my knees. “Lane, you're writing a song? That’s amazing.” I crawl behind him and look over his shoulder as he plays. I know I can trust him. I need to quit letting all these other people tell me what my future is. How do they know what my future is?
I slide my hands down his chest and hug him with the side of my face against his. “I’m more than sure about us.”
He stops playing, wrapping his hand around my arms. His body heaves once and then softens underneath me. We sit peacefully like this for a few seconds.
Lane leans his guitar against the wall by the dresser and turns to press his forehead against mine. He makes his request, “Kiss me already.”
A giggle bubbles in my chest, untangling my heart, mending the bruises and cuts from the strings of my family’s misleading musings. Three little words and the touch of his lips have the power to heal. They’re warm and soft and move slowly, driving me crazy like his kisses always do. I sigh and want to melt into him. His hands slide against my cheeks.
The rush of the day works through me, heightening every flutter of every butterfly's wings inside me. “You have something special inside you, Lane. I’ve always been drawn to that. I realize I’ve let everyone’s predictions and doubts get to me. I’m sorry. I'm so glad we’re … more than we were.” I share my heart and think about more. Lane’s kisses have become my vice. My something I’m not sure I could quit if I had to.
He speaks softly, “So much more than friends.” His arm slides around my burn-free lower back. Our lips cling to each other’s.
I’m nervous about what’s happening.
31
Lane
Regan bites her lip, her brows heavy and low over her panicky eyes. She has a death grip on my hand, watching the screen of my phone.
After the second ring, I tell her, “It’s going to be fine.”
She scowls even more, glancing up at me.
I chuckle. She could slap me across the face at this point and I’d laugh, thank her, and ask for another, I’m so perfectly happy right now.
The phone rings for the third time. “Hello, Lane, how’s your day?” Mom’s glad to hear from me.
“It’s been an eventful day, actually.” I bring Regan’s hand up and kiss the back of it, giving her a reassuring smile.
“Oh, yeah? Tell me about it.”
It goes smoothly with my mom, as I knew it would. She had to know I liked Regan. I don’t think Dad told her, but I’m sure she could tell. I needed Dad’s advice, but I didn’t tell him everything.
“See … easy.” My fingers tap her phone number in my phone.
“Yeah. Not so sure about this one.” She bites a fingernail off and tosses it on my floor.
“Hey, I’ve got a trash can, you know.” I tease her, trying to get her to lighten up.
She rolls her eyes at me and bites off another one.
I chuckle at her response. “One down, one to go.” My thumb hovers over the call button. “Ready?”
She rips off the last fingernail and gives me a nod.
After the first ring, she grabs my hand again.
“Hello?” Mrs. Stone answers on the second ring.
“Hi, Mom.” Regan looks at me with big, round eyes.
“Regan, is something wrong?” It’s still school hours, and she knows Regan went on a field trip today.
“Uh, no, nothing’s wrong. I just �
�” She takes a deep breath. “You remember I had a field trip to Eastern today, right?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but Lane surprised me and gave me a tour of campus today. I’m using his phone to call you. You’re on the speaker.” Regan squeezes her eyes tight, shaking her head profusely as if she’s said or done something wrong.
“Hi, Mrs. Stone.” I jiggle Regan’s arm, smiling at her, letting her know it’s going fine.
“Oh! Well, hello, Lane sweetie. How are you?”
A big wolfish grin spreads across my face. I stare right into Regan’s eyes while I speak to her mom. “I’m having the best day since classes started in August.”
Regan rolls her eyes at me. Again. She tries to drop her face and look away, but I won’t let her.
“The best day? That’s great. What did you do?”
“I spent the day with Regan.”
She finally smiles for the first time since we started making phone calls. “Mom?” Regan’s eyes home in on me and mine fixate on hers. When she begins to speak, my gaze bounces between her magnetic eyes and lyrical lips. “Lane and I like each other more than friends, and we’re going to start dating.”
Hearing her say it, out loud, to her mom, after all this time makes me want to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her until our lips can’t take it anymore. Watching her lips move has drawn me closer to her. Regan pushes against my chest.
“Oh!” Mrs. Stone’s voice throws a much-needed bucket of cold water on me. “So, I was right? Oh, Regan. Lane. I think you two are a good match.”
Regan rolls her eyes. “Dad doesn’t.” She thumps her elbow down on her knee, propping her pouty face on it.
She looks so cute I want to kiss her again, but I restrain myself.
“He may make it difficult. But I want to ask you two … is it worth it? Is it worth risking your friendship for this? Sometimes things don’t work out the way you want them to.”