Saving It

by Monica Murphy

  It was a selfie of her giving me the finger. Nice, right?

  I stare at my phone screen once more, chewing on my lower lip. What do I say? Am I ready for the hookup? What the hell is wrong with me that I’m questioning myself? Why wouldn’t I be ready for the hook-up? Whitney is hot. She’s single. She wants me to come over to her freaking house tonight. This is everything I ever wanted. One night to shed my virginity, and then it’s done. I can feel worthy in the locker room. I can feel worthy when I graduate high school and eventually go to college.

  “Screw it,” I mutter and start typing.

  What do you have in mind?

  Whitney responds quickly.

  Whatever you want. :)

  My eyebrows shoot up. If that isn’t an open invitation, I don’t know what is.

  What time?

  Around eight? My parents are gone. They won’t come back till late.

  I’m going to do this. I’m really going to do this.

  Sounds good. I’ll see you at eight.

  Can’t wait. :)

  I leap off the bed and go to my dresser, pulling open the top drawer and grabbing a pair of underwear. I check the black boxer briefs for holes, then immediately decide I need to wear something different. Not the usual old boxer briefs.

  So I dig to the back of the drawer and grab a pair of blue and white checked boxers I’ve only worn once, then slam it shut. I’ll pick out what I’m going to wear later. First, I gotta take a shower.

  For a solid fifteen minutes I soak under the hot water and wash everything at least twice. I jerk off because I don’t want to be like Abraham and come twice within a forty-five-minute span if that. I need to prolong this. I’ve had enough experience and read enough articles on Cosmo the last couple of years to know this.

  Once I’m out of the shower, I dry off, towel dry my hair, shave, and deodorize. I spray myself with the subtlest cologne I own, and then I stare at my reflection in the still fogged up bathroom mirror.

  Not bad. I look pretty good. I glance down at my chest, scratch my finger lightly along a zit that’s somehow popped up. Spot a few hairs curling in between my pecs and wonder if I’ll get more. I’ve grown another inch over the past year, putting me at a little over six-foot, and it’s weird because you think you finish all that growing up stuff during the typical puberty spurt at age thirteen or fourteen, but you don’t. Sometimes it keeps happening.

  I run my fingers through my hair until it looks decent, slip on the boxers, then grab my dirty clothes and hightail it out of the bathroom in a mad dash toward my bedroom.

  Of course, my mother intercepts me in the hallway.

  She sends me a look. “Where do you think you’re going tonight?”

  “It’s Saturday, Mom.” I try to keep the irritation out of my voice, but it’s there, lurking just beneath the surface. She hears it, too. I can see it in her face, the way she crosses her arms in front of her chest, like she’s ready to interrogate me.

  “So you’re going out.”

  “Yeah.” I nod, feeling weird standing in front of her with just my boxers on. “I won’t be out too late though. Promise.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going over to a friend’s house.”

  “Who’s?”

  “You don’t know her. She’s a friend of Eden’s.” This is sort of true.

  Mom smiles. “Will Eden be there?”

  Wouldn’t that be awkward as hell? Though Mom will get off my case if she thinks I’m going to hang out with a few friends versus just one girl she doesn’t know. “Yeah, she’ll be there. Molly, Abraham, and Cole will be there, too.”

  God, I’m such a liar.

  “Nice. Well, have fun. Don’t stay out too late.” She pats me on the arm before she walks past me.

  I go into my bedroom and shut the door, leaning against it with a big sigh. Got past that potential barrier, thank God. I grab my new jeans and the new black button-down shirt and put them on, then check myself out in the mirror. Eden liked how I looked in this outfit. I remember at the store when she unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers brushing against my skin for the tiniest moment, and the shock on her face when our eyes met. Like maybe she felt something when she touched me. Because I know I did. I always seem to. I just push it out of my mind, since I can’t go there.

  Frowning at my reflection, I finish buttoning the shirt. I need to stop thinking about Eden. Tonight isn’t about her. It’s about Whitney. Hot, blond, willing to do anything Whitney. I’m freaking excited. Nervous, too. Apprehensive. I’ve messed around plenty. I don’t want to screw this up or finish too fast—my biggest fear. I need to make sure and put the condom on right. Need to make sure I actually have condoms with me. This is nerve-wracking stuff, especially since I have a feeling Whitney’s done this before. Maybe more than a few times.

  Not that she’s a slut. I don’t slut shame. Eden taught me that term and told me I need to live by it, too.

  Dude. Forget Eden.

  I go to my bedside table and open the drawer, pulling out a single condom and stuffing it into my wallet. Then I grab another one just in case. I shove the wallet into my back jeans’ pocket, then grab my phone, opening it up and checking out my notifications.

  They’re all Snapchats from Abraham, Cole, Molly, and one from Eden.

  I open them in the order I received them.

  Abraham’s is a text in chat.

  What are you up to tonight, player?

  I answer him, telling him where I’m going.

  Cole’s is a photo taken from behind the steering wheel of his car, with a caption.

  Going to pick up my girl.

  Frowning, I send him a quick pic back without a caption. Who the hell is his new girl?

  Molly’s is another selfie, her scowling into the camera like she’s got full on hate for me. There’s a caption, too.

  Eden is going to dinner with Cole tonight. *gag*

  What the ever lovin…

  I send her back a photo with my own caption.

  Are you serious?

  Then I open Eden’s, already starting to feel angry.

  It’s a selfie with no caption and she looks…beautiful. Hair straight and hanging past her shoulders, a big smile on her face, showing off those straight teeth that took two years of braces to fix. I’ve never seen her look prettier.

  And she got pretty for some other guy.

  Not just some other guy, but Cole, her ex-boyfriend. The douchebag who broke her heart and made her cry more than once.

  I think she’s trying to drive me crazy.

  Stupid freaking lucky ass Cole, who’s my friend, but hasn’t she done this already? She’s as bad as Kaylie and I.

  I take a quick selfie and send it to her. Just as I do, my phone lights up with a call from Abraham, so I answer it.

  “Bro, you’re going to Whitney Gregory’s house right now? Someone I know is getting laid tonight,” Abraham crows as his greeting.

  “Jesus, keep it down,” I mutter, making Abraham burst out laughing. “Aren’t you with your family right now?”

  “I’m alone, chill.” He starts laughing harder when I growl at him in irritation. “This is gonna be sick, you hooking up with Whit. I’ve heard good things.”

  “You’ve heard good things?” I almost don’t want to know what he’s heard.

  Or do I?

  “I heard she’s good. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”

  Since when does Abraham keep quiet about anyone or anything? “Are you serious? You’re not going to tell me who your source is?”

  “No. I was sworn to secrecy.”

  “Are you the one who did Whitney Gregory?” I sound like a jackass. Eden would probably hit me right now if she were here.

  Abraham snorts. “In my dreams. Naw, it wasn’t me. But you know this guy.” His voice lowers. “Swear you won’t say anything.”

  “I swear,” I say immediately. Abraham isn’t about keeping secrets. Not that he blabs, but he alwa
ys tells it like it is.

  “Okay, because this is messed up, and I hate that I know, so I’m dragging you into this with me.” Abraham clears his throat. “Remember when Cole broke up with Eden last time?”

  “Yeah.” Icy cold dread slithers down my spine. That was a bad moment last year. Eden had been a wreck. She thought things were going well with Cole, and then out of nowhere—at least according to Eden—he dumped her. Pulled one of those, it’s not you, it’s me lines on her and was out. It took her a while to recover.

  “It’s because he hooked up with Whit when he was still with Eden. At some stupid party where he got drunk and claims he didn’t remember what happened. Whit lost her shit and threatened to tell Eden if Cole didn’t break up with her, so he did. Then he goes to Whitney thinking they’re going to become a thing, and she blows him off. Acts like she never went off on him, like he was the crazy one,” Abraham explains, sounding disgusted. “She’s kind of psycho, dude. But I think maybe she’s worth it because look what Cole did to Eden just to get another piece of that.”

  I think I’m going to be sick. I know it sounds like an exaggeration, but I lived through that breakup. I was there for Eden when she cried over Cole. I went and yelled at Cole on Eden’s behalf, and he told me I wouldn’t understand why he broke up with her.

  Now I get it. I totally get it. What a mess. And Eden is going to dinner with Cole tonight, while I’m going over to Whit’s house to get laid.

  What the hell am I doing? What the hell is Eden doing?

  “Molly told me Eden and Cole are going to dinner tonight,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “They are? Tonight?” Abraham sounds shocked.

  “Yeah. Can you believe it?”

  “Actually, I can. Cole always regretted breaking up with her last time. Said it was a huge mistake on his part.”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  “We’re all assholes. It’s what we do.” Abraham pauses for a moment. “You’re not going to tell Eden about this, are you?”

  “No, I promised I’d keep it secret.” Though it’s going to kill me to keep it from her. Cole cheated on her with Whitney. Cheated.

  If Eden knew, she’d be devastated. If she knew, she wouldn’t be going to dinner with that asswipe right now. If she knew, she’d tell him to kiss her ass and never speak to him again.

  But I can’t tell her. She’s still hung up on her ex-boyfriend. I have to let her go out with Cole. And I’m going over to Whitney’s.

  My earlier excitement evaporates, just like that.

  “Okay, good.” Abraham breathes a sigh of relief, then he starts chuckling. “Forget about Eden and Cole. It’s not our problem, you know? Just concentrate on Whitney tonight. I’m so jealous.”

  “Where’s your college girlfriend?” I need to change the subject, focus on Abraham.

  “She promised we’re gonna sext later. Gotta go. Don’t forget to use a condom.” Abraham ends the call before I can say anything else.

  I shove my phone into my back pocket and then look at my reflection yet again. Should I even go through with this? What Whit and Cole did has nothing to do with me. I shouldn’t worry about it.

  I can’t worry about it.

  But I can’t help but think about Eden and Cole on that stupid dinner date my entire drive over to Whitney’s house.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eden

  The conversation between Cole and me during dinner is slow and almost painful. At first I tried to be bright and cheery and told myself it was just like old times, but it’s not. As the minutes tick by, all those old resentments start to build within me, bubbling in my stomach, rising to my throat, ready to shoot straight toward Cole in a barrage of ugly words.

  But I contain myself. I can get through this. I won’t let him win me over with his usual charm and the sweet things he says. He knows how to flirt. He knows how to say or do just the right thing to make a girl go awwww. He’s always used that to his advantage, and most of the time, it’s harmless.

  He doesn’t feel harmless tonight. For some reason, it’s like he’s trying so hard, it’s actually turning me off. Tempting me to run in the opposite direction. He’s showing off about his grades, his potential for getting into Stanford, his parents promising to buy him a new car before the end of the year.

  Like for real, he’s going to get a car for Christmas. How spoiled is he?

  “What type of car do you want?” I make the mistake in asking.

  Cole’s eyes light up, and he literally rubs his hands together. “I’m hoping for a brand-new truck, one of those Ford F-150s. They’re so freaking nice, especially when it’s fully loaded with all the extras and tricked out. Dad is on board, but I don’t know if Mom is.”

  His dad is a doctor. His mom is the vice president of a bank. Cole is an only child, so to say he’s spoiled is putting it mildly.

  “What color?” I take a sip of my water and silently will our server to bring our dinner. We ordered almost twenty minutes ago, but the restaurant is so packed everything seems to be taking extra long tonight.

  “White or silver. Probably white, with black tinted windows. Won’t that look dope?” He’s nodding and smiling, and I can’t help but think of Josh. He always says dope. It’s like his signature word. I used to give him crap over it, but then had to stop when I realized the word had become a part of my daily vocabulary.

  Ugh. I push Josh out of my mind.

  “I’m sure it’ll look awesome,” I tell him with my politest smile.

  Cole frowns, tilting his head to the side. “You okay?”

  I keep the smile in place. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You look a little…down.” He leans forward, his voice going lower. “Is something bothering you? You can tell me you know. I’ll always be here for you, Eden.”

  Leave it to Cole to keep digging. Why can’t he accept my answer at face value and continue talking? My smile slips, and I give up the pretense. “No, really. I’m okay. Just hungry.”

  “I told you we should’ve ordered appetizers.” When we were finally seated at our table at the Italian restaurant downtown, that was the first thing Cole wanted to do. But I told him I didn’t want to ruin my meal, considering Italian food is always so heavy, and he told me I was acting like an old lady, which sort of pissed me off.

  Not the best way to start off our date, right? And it feels like it’s just been sliding downhill ever since.

  The server miraculously appears with our plates in hand, and he sets mine in front of me first, then Cole’s. “Sorry for the delay. We’re extra busy tonight,” he says.

  “No problem,” I tell him with a polite smile while Cole scowls.

  “Maybe you should comp us some appetizers to make up for our wait,” Cole suggests.

  I send him a look, but he’s ignoring me.

  “I could do that for you, no problem.” The server smiles. “What would you like?”

  “The bruschetta plate sounds good.” The smug expression on Cole’s face is super annoying.

  And kind of embarrassing.

  Once the waiter leaves, I lean across the table, my voice dropping. “We don’t need free appetizers.”

  Cole frowns. “Why not? It’s the least they can do for making us wait.”

  “It hasn’t been that bad of a wait,” I start, but he cuts me off.

  “This place is always fast. Tonight, they’re not. They owe us something for the inconvenience,” Cole says firmly.

  I don’t want to fight about this, so I dig into my pasta dish. It’s delicious, and I concentrate on that, feeling full after only a few minutes, nearly groaning when the server sets our appetizer plate in the middle of the table with a flourish. No way am I going to be able to eat one of those, no matter how yummy they look.

  “Enjoy,” he says with an overly fake grin, then dashes off.

  “That guy is a jerk,” Cole grumbles as he reaches for a bruschetta topped with tomatoes, prosciutto, and cheese.

&nbs
p; “You were being a jerk, too,” I point out.

  He shoves the appetizer in his mouth, glaring at me as he chews. “Are you pissed at me, or what?” he asks after he swallows.

  I’m surprised by his question. “I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad at you?”

  “Did you talk to Abraham?” He looks away, like he can’t meet my gaze and my suspicions rise.

  What does Abraham know that I don’t?

  “I talk to Abraham all the time,” I say carefully.

  “So he told you then.” Cole’s lips go thin. He’s still not looking me in the eye.

  “Told me what?”

  “About me and Whitney.” Cole shakes his head, his gaze finally locking with mine. “I’m tired of pretending it never happened. I promised myself I would tell you tonight.”

  Now I’m confused. Why did he mention Whitney? “What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t lie to you anymore, Eden. If we’re going to give this a go again, I need to tell you the truth.” Cole takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one gusty exhale before he says, “When we were together, I might’ve…cheated on you.”

  The words echo in my head, over and over again. “You might’ve what?”

  “You didn’t know?” When I furiously shake my head, he nods, his expression grim. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was a stupid mistake. I never meant to hurt you when I broke up with you, but I felt so guilty and I couldn’t live with myself for what I did. So I thought it was better to just end it with you and walk away.”

  “You cheated on me? With who?” Whitney. He said Whitney. “Whitney Gregory?” My voice is shrill, and I swear someone at a nearby table turns to look at us.

  Cole winces. “It was a one shot thing. I was at a party and I was drunk, and we were flirting pretty heavily. Next thing I know she’s led me to a bedroom, and we’re naked and then we were—yeah. We were doing it. But it was a mistake. I realize that now. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Eden. And I messed it all up by screwing a girl I don’t really know when I was drunk.”