Lost and Found

by Katrina Grillo

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” Gemma says.

  “Yeah, they deny it, but they didn’t care if I played video games when I was his age. He’s their chance at a parenting do-over.”

  “Maybe I should give them my list of all the things you’re not good at so they can make sure Samuel doesn’t end up the same way,” she suggests, smirking.

  I elbow her in the side. “Thanks, real nice.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she laughs.

  “After Samuel came along, I had a tough time. Like he was the kid they actually wanted, not me. So I went looking for my biological parents.” I put the guitar down and lay back on the bed.

  “Did you find them?” Gemma asks, laying back beside me.

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “I found them. Turns out my birth mom got into drugs and died of an overdose. And my birth dad didn’t know I existed and didn’t want to know I existed. So that was that.”

  “Oh my god, Spence,” Gemma says. I’ve never told anyone this before. Not a soul. Lucas doesn’t really count, since he’s family. Usually, if I mention it at all, I just say I'm adopted, no need for the entire backstory. It’s not something that comes up all that often.

  I shrug. “It’s fine. I mean, at the time it wasn’t fine, it sucked and was horrible, but I’m over it now. Things worked out okay for me.”

  Gemma is quiet. Then, she reaches over and takes my hand. I don’t move. I stay perfectly still, so maybe she won’t realize that she has voluntarily touched me, because I don’t want her to let go. Her hand is small and soft in mine. I am hyperaware of it’s presence, but at the same time it feels like the most natural thing in the world, to be holding Gemma Kincaid’s hand.

  We stay like that until I can’t stay still anymore and I roll on my side to face her, still holding her hand. She rolls over to face me, our hands clasped between us.

  “Man, what a weird fourth date, huh?” I say. “Meeting my parents, going to an eight-year-old’s birthday party, swapping sob stories.”

  She smiles over at me. “This wasn’t a date, Spence.”

  “You say tomato, I say tomahto.”

  She’s still smiling, and her face is so close to mine, and I really want to kiss her. I stare at her, wondering if right now would be a weird time for a first kiss. She’s staring back at me, and I think she might be waiting for me to kiss her, but I’m not sure. I’m about to take a chance anyway when my mom yells from downstairs.

  “Okay everybody! Time for cake!”

  And that’s it, the moment is over. Ruined by my mother. It’s like being sixteen again, getting caught trying to sneak out to go to Shelby Conrad’s house to see if she’d let me do more than touch her boobs.

  “Time for cake,” Gemma echoes, pulling her hand from mine as she gets off the bed.

  When we get back downstairs my mother gives me a look, because I’m pretty sure I’m still not allowed to bring girls up to my bedroom, but I ignore her. We gather around and sing happy birthday to Samuel, who relishes in all the attention. My mother force feeds us cake.

  The whole time I’m watching Gemma laugh and talk with my family, and something about it feels right in a way I didn’t expect. I brought her here on a whim, but I’m really glad I did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gemma

  Amanda has been M.I.A all week. She hasn’t been by the apartment at all that I’ve noticed, and she’s no longer responding to my texts. Nothing in her room looks like it’s been touched in days. If all her stuff wasn’t still here I’d think she’d moved out and didn’t tell me.

  Ultimately, I decide Amanda missing is a good enough excuse for me to go to the boy’s apartment under the guise of looking for her. Maybe one of them has seen her around. I am worried, and I am looking for her, but let’s face it, this is an excuse to see Spence again. It’s been a few days since the moment we’d shared at his parent’s house. The moment I can’t stop thinking about. I head downstairs and knock on the door. To my delight, Spence answers.

  “Hey!” He looks pleased to see me. “What’s up?”

  I try to glance behind him to see if anyone else is home, but the apartment looks empty. “Have you seen Amanda?”

  “I thought you guys weren’t speaking?”

  “We’re not,” I say. “But I haven’t seen her in days. She hasn’t been to the apartment.”

  “Nope, sorry. I haven’t seen her.” He pauses for a second, thinking. “Haven’t seen Lucas in awhile, either, now that you mention it. You don’t think…?”

  “Nooo,” I scoff. But now that he’s mentioning it, they do tend to go missing at the same time. Still, that’s too far outside the realm of possibility for me to even consider.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Spence says. “That’d be too weird.”

  “Well, if you see her will you let me know?”

  “Will do.” He puts his hands in his pockets and rolls back and forth on his toes. “Are you busy right now?”

  I pause, halfway out the door. “No, not really.”

  “Let’s hang out,” Spence says. He has a sexy half smile on his face that makes my heart flutter.

  “Okay.” I agree without hesitation, and step inside the apartment.

  “You wanna play Monopoly?” Spence asks, walking into the living room.

  “Monopoly?” I make a face at him. “That’s what you want to do?”

  “Why not?” He pulls the game off a bookshelf. “I love Monopoly.”

  “No one loves Monopoly,” I tell him. “Family feuds have started over games of Monopoly. And it takes forever to play.”

  “Well I love Monopoly. Besides, you got anything better to do today?”

  When I don’t answer he sits down on the floor in the middle of the living room and unpacks the game. With a sigh I sit down on the floor across from him. “Fine, but I’m being the dog.”

  “That’s fine,” he says. “I’m always the top hat, anyway.” He sets up the board and informs me he’s also always the banker, which I don’t argue with.

  He gets the board set up and looks over at me. “What do you say we up the ante?” he asks, mischief all over his face.

  “Up the ante how, exactly?” I ask, alarm bells going off in my head.

  “Strip Monopoly,” Spence says.

  “Strip Monopoly?” I say. “That’s not a thing.”

  “Oh, but it is!” He says excitedly. He dishes out cash. “You get less, because you’re a girl.”

  “That’s sexist,” I protest. “I’m not going to play with you if you’re going to discriminate. The pay gap is already enough of a problem in real life, I don’t need one in Monopoly, too.”

  “Relax, will you?” Spence says. “It evens out. You get a bra bonus.” He pauses, raising an eyebrow. “You are wearing a bra, right? If you’re not we can have the same amount of money.”

  “How the hell does this game work?” I ask.

  “Are you wearing a bra or not?”

  “Of course I’m wearing a bra!” I say.

  “That’s unfortunate.” He tosses some Monopoly money in front of me. “Clothes are cash. You can use them to buy stuff and pay off debts. You can also sell them and auction them off. And you can buy them back, too, but where’s the fun in that?” He grins at me.

  “This sounds too confusing. Can’t we play strip poker or something like normal people?” Playing strip anything with Spence is a terrible idea. I know this. I know where he wants this to end up. But I go with it, because a tiny part of me wants it to end up there, too. If I think about it too much I’ll talk myself out of it, so I try not to think about it at all.

  “No, I’ve already set this up. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”

  “I’m not playing this sober,” I say, getting up and heading toward the fridge. “Do you want a beer or something?”

  “Are you offering me my own beer right now? Who are you, coming in here and taking my stuff?”

  I roll my eyes and pull two beers out of the fridge
and give one to him. “It’s not like I’m stealing it. Besides, it’s bad hosting that you didn’t offer me one already.”

  “Wow, okay, fine.” Spence holds up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Put that on the list of things you’re not good at, ‘hosting’,” I tell him, pointing at him with my beer.

  “Did I not arrange this fun activity for us?” he says, gesturing to the Monopoly board.

  “Ehhh,” I hedge. “That doesn’t count as hosting.”

  “You’re difficult to please, you know that?” he says, but he’s smiling at me.

  “What can I say,” I give him a one-shouldered shrug. “I have high standards.”

  We start to play and as it turns out, I’m really, really bad at Monopoly. Of course, Spence is really good at it. After an hour he’s only lost his shirt and one sock. I’ve maintained ownership of my bra, but it’s the only thing covering my top half. My feet are bare and we’ve reached a point where I either have to quit or take off my pants.

  “I quit,” I tell him.

  “What! No! Things are just getting good, you can’t quit now.”

  “Yes, I can,” I say, and reach for my shirt.

  He snatches it out of reach. “Quitter,” he taunts.

  “Spence, knock it off.” He dangles the shirt in front of me and pulls it away when I grab for it. “Give it back!”

  “Come and get it.” He leans back and holds it over his head and I crawl toward him, reaching for my shirt. I try to stand up to gain an advantage, but he reaches over and tickles me along my ribs, and I fall back down, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

  “Spence! Not fair! Stop it right now!” I say as I gasp for breath. He stops tickling me, and that’s when I realize I’ve landed practically in his lap. He wraps his arms around me and tugs me toward him and smiles. It’s a tiny smile, but a sexy one, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. His face is very close.

  We are perfectly still, barely breathing. He reaches up to brush hair out of my face and leans even closer.

  And then his mouth is on mine.

  It’s warm, and it tastes a little like beer, but then again mine probably does too. He kisses me softly at first, tentative, like he’s waiting to see how I respond before putting his foot on the gas. I kiss him back, enough to let him know that it’s totally fine if he wants to step on the gas. He gets the message because he slips his tongue in my mouth and ratchets the intensity of the kiss up to eleven.

  He tangles his fingers in my hair and I run my hands up his sides, over his back, wanting to touch all of him at once. His hands are warm against my bare skin as he unhooks my bra and lays me down on the floor. The hardwood is cold under my back and I gasp and flinch.

  “Sorry, sorry,” he says, his eyes searching mine to figure out what’s wrong.

  “I’m okay, floor is cold,” I tell him. He pulls a blanket off the couch and puts it over us, like a tent.

  “Better?” he asks, and I nod, even though it isn’t doing anything for the cold against my back. But I like being cocooned under here with him.

  He leans down and presses his mouth to mine as he slips my bra straps off my shoulders. His lips move from my mouth, along my jawline. He nibbles on my earlobe and I gasp involuntarily. His mouth keeps moving, down the side of my neck, along my collarbone. He slides my bra completely off and his mouth heads for the newly exposed skin. And it’s not that I don’t want him to go where he’s going, but I’m not ready for him to go there yet, so I pick my head up off the floor and nudge my body to detour him.

  He lifts his head up and looks at me, all questions in his gray eyes, but I grab his face and pull it toward mine and kiss him. I follow his lead and move down his jaw, his neck, to his chest, kissing everything I can reach. And he lets me. I’m working my way back up, relishing in feeling his frenzied heartbeat under my mouth, when I see him reach down to unbutton his pants. Then he’s moving between my legs, and his mouth is back on mine and it’s urgent now like it wasn’t before, and he’s tugging on the button to my jeans, and everything is moving really fast, and that’s when I snap out of it.

  I pull my mouth away from his, wriggling beneath him on the floor, trying to move away.

  “Spence,” I gasp, my voice on the edge of panic. “Wait.” He hovers above me, breathing heavily, his brows knit together.

  “What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I say.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, dipping his head back towards mine.

  I put my hands on his chest and turn my face away. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Okay, okay,” he says, pulling away. He falls back and sits down with a thump, the blanket pooled around him.

  Scrambling around I collect my clothes and put them back on haphazardly, not caring how I look. It was stupid for me to come over here in the first place, stupid for me to let things go this far.

  Spence realizes then that his pants are hanging open and falling off his hips and he tugs them up and buttons them. He’s still shirtless and missing a sock.

  “I’m really sorry,” he says, running a hand over the back of his head. To his credit, now he looks super awkward. Probably not as awkward as I feel, but it’s nice to see Spence looking uncomfortable for once. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I took things too far.”

  “We shouldn’t have been doing this in the first place,” I say, looking toward the Monopoly board and all the tokens and money now strewn across the floor. “I told you, I’m not going to be another girl you sleep with and forget about.”

  “Hey,” he says, taking a step towards me. “That’s not what this is. I told you that.”

  “I’m not going to compete with a bunch of other girls, either.”

  “You’re not competing with anyone,” he says.

  “Not right now, maybe,” I say.

  “No.” He looks at me, his gray eyes intense. “Not ever.”

  I don’t know what he means by that. I’m afraid to ask. We’re both standing there, not looking at each other or moving, when the front door slams open. Spence’s eyes go wide and I spin around to see who barged in. Lucas is standing in the doorway, carrying Amanda.

  “Guess what!” she shouts. “We’re married!” She holds up her left hand to display a big, shiny diamond on her ring finger.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gemma

  Neither Spence or I say anything. I’m in a state of shock. Lucas puts Amanda down and all four of us look around in confusion.

  “What the fuck,” Spence finally says. “You guys were together? How long has this been going on?”

  I’d like to know the answer to that question too, but neither one of them answers Spence. Instead, Amanda narrows her eyes at me. “What’s going on here? What did we walk in on?” she asks.

  That’s when I remember Spence isn’t wearing a shirt, there’s a blanket on the floor, Monopoly pieces scattered everywhere and I’m sure I look disheveled.

  “What do you mean you’re married?” I say, ignoring her question. This is the first thing I’ve said out loud to Amanda in weeks. “Where have you been?”

  “We went to Vegas for the weekend,” Lucas says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He heads for the fridge and roots around. “I see you guys didn’t miss us.”

  “You went to Vegas? And got married?” Spence picks his shirt up off the floor and tugs it over his head.

  “We sure did!” Amanda waves the ring in Spence’s face. It’s huge. He grabs her hand and looks down at it.

  “Where the fuck did you get the money for this, Lucas?” Spence asks, rounding on Lucas, a murderous look in his eye.

  Lucas opens the bottle of water he’s pulled out of the fridge and takes a swig. “Relax man, it wasn’t that expensive.”

  “It’s cubic zirconia,” Amanda begrudgingly admits, shooting a look at Lucas. “But we’re saving up for the real thing, right baby?�
�

  “Baby?” Spence says, scrunching up his face in disgust. He turns to me. “Did you know about this? Am I dreaming? Is this really happening right now?”

  “If you’re dreaming, I’m dreaming,” I tell him, but I’m still not quite able to look at him. “I had no idea this was going on.”

  “What have you guys been up to while we’ve been gone? Looks like things have been awfully cozy over here,” Lucas says flopping down on the couch and pulling Amanda onto his lap.

  “Ew, babe, don’t sit on the couch, who knows what type of bodily fluids are on it right now.” Amanda shoots a nasty look in my direction.

  “You’re right,” Lucas says, lifting Amanda up so fast she lets out a squeal and clutches at his neck. “Let’s take this into the bedroom.”

  “I’m leaving,” I say to no one in particular as Lucas and Amanda retreat into his room, both of them giggling like little kids.

  “You’re just going to leave me with them?” Spence says, gesturing to Lucas’s closed bedroom door, a look of horror on his face.

  “Yes,” I say, scanning the room to make sure I’m not forgetting any of my clothes.

  “Listen,” he says, his gaze at the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. “About before-”

  “Let’s not talk about it,” I interrupt him. “In fact, let’s forget it ever happened.”

  Spence looks like he wants to say more, but I’m far too mortified and shell-shocked by the Lucas and Amanda news to talk to him about this. I can’t even make eye contact with him right now. Instead I make a hasty exit and retreat back to my apartment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Spence

  Like I thought, my mother has called me more in the past few weeks than she has in the four years since I moved out of the house. And every single time she asks about Gemma.

  “Are you still seeing Gemma?”