Wrong Place, Right Time

by Mallory Lopez

  I sit on my bed, and hold my head in my hands. I want so badly to go back to sleep, but I have to get these work hours in. I rub my face and groan. I turn my phone on now that it has enough juice to work. I start making a game plan on what to do without my wallet until I get all these ping noises coming from my phone. What the hell? I barely use the damn thing. There's eight text messages and three missed calls all from Amelia. "God damnit," I curse when I see that she has my wallet. It must have fallen out when I was playing grab-ass in her room. I send her a text saying I'll meet her at the studio.

  23

  –– Amelia ––

  That idiot left his wallet on my bed. I'm still trying to process dinner and that entire sequence of events. Trying to figure out why he acted so pissed when he left. I get that we’re not really dating, but what was that kiss? His lips felt like home. I crave to be back there. What about his hand grabbing my almost-naked butt? I swear I instantly got wet, and if he touched me any longer he would have found out I was ready to go. Then after dinner, he sped off without even giving me a hug. My parents weren't the most welcoming, but it went better than I thought. Todd was incredible with them, very respectful. I hate that he took it out on me. A hug would've at least been nice after everything we've been through. I, at least, deserve a hug after a date.

  I slump down behind the desk in the studio, rapidly cycling between sad, angry, and confused. I cross my arms on the desk and rest my chin on them, looking like a sad puppy dog.

  "You look like a sad puppy dog," a voice says through the ringing of the bells on the door. Forget sadness and confusion. I'm just mad.

  "And you look like an asshole," I snap back at him sassily. He pauses abruptly to take the hit but I see his jaw tense.

  "Don't, Amelia," Todd warns. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I just want my wallet back." His stern voice is my last warning not to mess with him.

  "What if I want to fight? Why are you even mad? What did I do?" I come back at him with boldness I didn't even know I have. Then again, Todd and I fight well but it's been so good this last week.

  He rips his aviator sunglasses off, and unzips his leather jacket. I stand up from the stool and cross my arms. He eyes my stance and, without breaking eye contact, he takes off his jacket slowly, tosses it on the floor, and drops his sunglasses on top. My eyes narrow at him as he puts his hands on his hips. Here we go.

  "You want to fight, Amelia? Let's fight," he threatens through a tight jaw. His eyes darken and his stance is firm. I wiggle slightly, second-guessing myself. A flash of humor passes his eyes, and it causes the anger to come flooding back.

  "Fine. What was that about last night? Your mood swing gave me whiplash. One minute kissing me, then grabbing my butt, then just storming off on your bike without even giving me a hug? Or a high-five? Or a freaking slap on the back for Pete's sake! What was that about?" I shout at him from halfway across the store. Judging by the fire in his eyes I'm surprised he let me get out what I needed to get out before interrupting me.

  "What was that about? That was about your parents being complete dickheads, Amelia. All throughout dinner, even before dinner! And then your mom practically begs me to get the hell out of her house. That's what that was about," he animatedly throws back at me.

  "Why'd you take it out on me? I'm sorry my parents were like that. You knew it was going to weird, but that was our agreement. It means that the plan is working. I'm sorry that you took the brunt of it last night, I am, but don't take it out on me. All I wanted was a hug goodbye. You didn't even say goodbye you just left while I was still talking," I curse myself for pouting at the end but at least I'm being truthful.

  He looks up and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Amelia, I have so much shit to worry about right now. I need my wallet so I can work off the hours for fixing your car," he fires back.

  "Don't make me feel bad about the car. You are the one that offered. I'm sorry you have to go in on your day off. Just stop taking it all out on me!"

  He walks closer like he's about to catch his prey. He's silent until he walks behind the desk, locking me in tight quarters between the desk, wall, and counter in front of the studio window. "You," he begins slowly, "are the reason for all this mess. So yes, maybe I did take it out on you a little yesterday, after that horrific dinner you coerced me into." He takes a step closer. I uncross my arms, and take a step back until my back hits the counter. "But a hug, Sweet Cheeks?" He steps closer so he's right in front of me, our chests practically touching. "Next time you want something from me just take it, because–"

  I don't let him finish, because for the first time in my entire life, I want something and I'm going to take it. Plus, he just gave me permission. I catch the words coming out of his mouth with my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling us closer. His mouth is warm and...surprised. Todd freezes for only a second before he grabs my hips and pulls me against him hard. He opens his mouth inviting me in, and the intensity of the kiss builds, as does my heart rate. Every nerve is on end as our mouths move together, dancing like lovers reunited. His hands move from my hips around to my ass. My entire body is on fire and I need him. I need him to touch me everywhere. I need him to take the building frustration within me and ease it out. I moan into his mouth, begging his hands to keep moving. Instead, he groans and grabs the back of my thighs to lift me onto the counter, knocking over flyers, a tripod with a family photo on it, and a few frames. It's the perfect height for him to press his erection against me, and I'm stunned at how badly I want it. I push my hips against him again and he groans. His rough hand quickly moves up inside my shirt and under my bra. He moves his thumb in circles over my nipple and then pinches it. I moan loudly and throw my head back. I have so much tension that I swear I almost orgasm when he pinches it again. His lips kiss and suckle down my neck and he mumbles, "Jesus, Amelia," after I grind into him again. His hand moves out of my shirt. He lowers his hand and lightly strokes my sex through my jeans. It makes me even wetter and I'm afraid that it'll show through the denim. I moan, "Please." He growls and fumbles with my jeans button.

  Loud knocks, banging on the window, and roars of laughter make us freeze. "Get a room!" "Woooo, free show!" "Tap that ass!" We hear as a group of young teenage boys pass the shop, successfully pouring cold water on us, and effectively ruining what was sure to be my first orgasm...from someone other than me.

  He moves his hands on top of my thighs, and we catch our breath for a moment, both of us avoiding eye contact. We just blurred a major line and touched a base that I've never touched. Pathetic, I know. There's no denying our chemistry, and I know he feels it too. I move my hand over his heart and I can feel it racing. He moves his hand on top of mine and closes his eyes for a brief moment. He holds my chin and licks and pulls my bottom lip with his teeth.

  He subtly winces and if I wasn't studying him so hard, if my nerves weren't on end, then I never would've noticed it. His face turns cold and distant, and just like that I've lost him again. He backs away from me, leaving me on the counter. Still retreating, he grabs his wallet off the desk. My eyes start to pool when he's halfway to the door. The bells jingle and he's left me without a word. Again. The tears overflow and stream down my cheeks. A sob falls out, and I curse myself for touching him at all.

  –– Todd––

  She scares me. She's sweet and innocent––but feisty at times––and now, apparently, she takes what she wants. I've never met anyone like her. She's too good for me. I repeat it over and over again as I walk to my bike, so I can get to the shop. As I backed out of the studio I saw her lips falter and her eyes drown. Part of me breaks knowing I left her like that, but I had to. Kissing her felt like...I don't know...it just felt like I belonged there. Like she was made to be in my arms, and our mouths were created to be fused together. I can't make real sense of any of it because I've never felt anything like this. She does something to me, and I don't know what it is but it scares the hell out of me.

  Maybe it's time to s
ee Becky again, to get my mind off of Amelia, and this gravitational pull she has over me. Yeah, I just need to get back out there and play the field again.

  24

  –– Amelia ––

  Mom and Dad sat me down tonight, and lectured on me on why I need to find a good Catholic boy to date. "They're nice," she said. "They're respectful," he said. "I don't care," I said. The argument got us nowhere. Well, that’s not exactly true. It did give both of them headaches, because their daughter just couldn't find a way to be more like her little brother Josh. Respectful, precious, and well, a boy. They just think the sun shines out of his ass and I've just about had it. He's the exact opposite of what they think he is. He just hides it so well, and then sucks up to them, playing his part as the can-do-no-wrong son. It's infuriating.

  Which is why I'm sitting at The Diner alone on a Tuesday night. "Hey, sweetie, what can I get ya?" Martha, the waitress, asks me. Martha’s been working here as long as I can remember. She is an older woman with big, eccentric gray hair, and drawn on eyebrows. She's pleasantly plump, and her signature look is capped off by the pink lipstick that she never goes without. She's probably the nicest lady in the entire city of Cayden Springs. All the regulars at The Diner love her, which is the only reason I am able to muster the meekest of smiles at her. It doesn't fool her though. "Oh boy, girlie. You look like you need either a big piece of pie or a heap of chocolate cake. Which one will it be?"

  "Martha, you’re so right. I think it's going to have to be pie. Can I get a big slice of lemon meringue, a la mode, and a Diet Coke? And Martha?"

  "Yeah, Babycakes?" She looks at me with a sweet smile that spreads out the wrinkles above her lips.

  "Can you make it a real big piece?" I ask pathetically.

  She winks at me, and puts her notepad back in her apron. "You got it, honey."

  I'm picking at my fingernails when a Diet Coke is set down in front of me. I look up to say thanks to Martha, but it turns out to be Justin.

  "Oh, hi, Justin," I greet him.

  "Hey, Amelia. Are you doing okay? You look kind of sad," he timidly tells me. He's wearing a white apron that goes down past his knees. His normal black hair is covered with an old, backwards Dodgers baseball cap.

  "Is it that obvious?" I worriedly ask him.

  "No, not completely but Martha did say that you wanted an extra big piece of pie," he admits.

  My face turns pink, and I cover my forehead with my hand. "Oh my God, that's so embarrassing."

  He chuckles. "Nah, the pie is good. I always ask for an extra big slice," he says through a suppressed grin.

  His sweet words make me grin genuinely. Martha walks back over with my pie and ice cream.

  "Here you go, honey. I hope this makes you feel a little better. It always does for me," she tells me, setting the plate in front of me. "Let me know if you need anything else." She sets the bill face down on the table.

  "Thanks, Martha. I appreciate it." She gives me a wink as she walks away.

  I look back at Justin who is standing above me somewhat awkwardly. He looks like he wants to say something but is hesitant. The contrast between him and Todd couldn't be more distinct. Justin doesn't have the same level of confidence that Todd does, and it’s obvious he’s struggling with it right now. Justin fidgets a little and scratches the back of his head and attempts to casually say, "Um, I'm about to go on my break, um, if, you know, you want some company."

  I smile. His awkwardness is endearing and a nice break from the self-assuredness of Todd.

  "Unless you came here to, like, get away from people or something," he quickly spews out.

  "No, no, um, you can join me. Please," I invite him to sit down gesturing to the booth seat across from me.

  "It's good to see you again. I was wondering when you'd be back in," he admits.

  "Oh yeah?" I give him a quaint smile, and take a sip of my Diet Coke. I look down at my plate, to see the biggest piece of lemon meringue pie, topped with melting vanilla ice cream. And two forks. That sneaky snake, Martha. I can't help but laugh a little. I pick up my fork, and look at Justin who is biting his lip, which is completely sexy. "Would you like to share my pie?" I ask him sweetly, looking in his playful misty-gray eyes.

  He grins, still biting his lip, and I find myself staring at his mouth even after he takes his fork and says, "I would love to. Thanks."

  After a few bites in comfortable silence, and few sneaking glances at each other, he breaks the silence. "So, what brings you in here, ordering extra pie and looking sad tonight?" I can tell it's the question that he's been yearning to ask by the eagerness in his eyes.

  Not sure how to explain my situation with Todd I go with the easy answer. "It's, um, complicated."

  "Is it, uh, about Todd?" He shyly looks up at me.

  I fidget, not wanting to evade the question but also not wanting to spew out all the sordid details. "Yeah, and, um, my parents. They don't like him, and they don't approve of me dating him. I got lectured tonight, and...it's just been a rough couple days," I tell him truthfully.

  He sighs and nods his head. "I'm sorry about that. I hope I didn't upset you last week when I said that stuff about Todd. I just don't want you to get–"

  "Hurt," we say at the same time. "I know, Justin. Thank you. I understand. I'm getting it from all angles lately, and I'm starting to think everyone is right. Maybe I should stay away." I mutter the last part, not wanting to believe it to be true.

  "Amelia," Justin says softly. I look into his eyes that are looking back at me with a spark I've never seen on him before. "You're amazing. You're beautiful, talented, you have goals, and you go after what you want. You deserve someone that knows all those things. You deserve someone that adores you."

  I stare back at him in awe. No guy has ever been so nice or so honest with me. It makes my heart thump extra hard. I blush, and break eye contact. "I don't know about all those things, but thank you for saying that."

  "It might not be so obvious to you, especially right now when you're sad, but trust me, Amelia," he grabs and squeezes my hand on the table. I look back up at him surprised. His eyes are serious and dark. The warmth from his hand spreads all the way up my arm. "All of those things are true. Everyone who knows you can see that, and if they can’t, they don't deserve to be in your life." I stare at him, taken aback by his kind statement, and how sincerely he seemed to mean it. I'm amazed, really.

  "Thank you, Justin." I feel a stinging behind my eyes, so in order to keep myself from crying--and to lighten the mood--I look down at my plate and ask, "Justin?"

  "Yeah?" A worried expression over takes his face.

  "You ate all my pie."

  We both laugh. For the next half hour, we continue to sit and talk. We talk about his ex-girlfriend and how, even though it ended mutually, he was still sad about it for a long while. We talk about how he had to defer admission to University of Oregon to stay home and help his mom take care of his little sister and his sick dad, who was just diagnosed with cancer a few months ago. We keep the topic off of me, and I am grateful for that.

  When I get back to my room later that night, I reflect on how nice it was to sit and talk with a guy. To be honest and light-hearted. Justin. I need a nice boy like Justin who won't fill me up and then leave me sobbing without a word. Okay, sobbing might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I did really want to crawl in a corner and die. My eyes fall droopy, and I climb into bed, comforted by the fact that Justin had had the decency to hug me goodbye.

  25

  –– Todd ––

  I don't think I've ever been so nervous in my entire life. I told Amelia I'd pick her up at six to take her to dinner. She refused to talk to me on the phone so I sent her a text, but she never responded. Still, I'm hoping for the best. As weird as it might seem, I hope she doesn't call off our agreement. I owe her, at the very least, to finish this and to stick it to her overbearing parents.

  I also owe her the world's biggest apology. I've been an asshole to women
before and haven't cared so much. This is different. Amelia is different. I know I should stay away but this draw I have to her is making it difficult. I saw Becky yesterday and tried to bury my problems in her, but when I got there, I couldn't do it. It was the first time in my life I couldn't have sex. As soon as I got there, the weight of how bad I had screwed up with Amelia hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks. I ran out of Becky's aunt's place so fast I think I scared her. Shit, I scared myself.

  When I walk past the studio window I see her editing photos on her computer. She has her glasses on and is studying the screen so intensely she doesn't see me walk by. I take a deep breath and push the door open. The jingling bells sound and she looks up. I can tell she's about to smile to welcome whomever the visitor might be...and then she realizes that it's me and her face hardens. She sits up and pushes her glasses back up with her fingers. I ease through the door, my heart pumping harder than it has since we got in that car accident. She crosses her arms. I bring the flowers from around my back and hold them up as a peace offering. I thought the flowers would help but now that I'm in front of her, I feel like an idiot.

  I take a breath and walk to her behind the counter. She looks timid. Not angry, but timid, and a little sad. It's a punch to the gut knowing I made her feel this way. She looks me up and down noticing my slightly differing attire. I’m wearing black jeans, my black dress shoes on--freshly polished--and a long sleeve button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. After she takes me in, she narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.