He winces, looks down. “But nothing. Never mind.”
I reach out and touch the tips of his fingers and I say, “Please tell me.”
“I don’t know…” He takes a tight breath and holds it in his lungs. His eyes scan my bedroom like he’s seeking out his thoughts from the shadows. “It’s just that you do.”
Now I’m the one dragging his chin up so that I can see into those brown eyes. Ben has gotten embarrassed on me—biting his bottom lip and ducking his head so that his hair blocks his face. He has one hand splayed on the floor, fingers pressing into the threads of my green rug.
I lean in. “What? It’s just that I do what?”
“Have a claim on me,” he whispers.
Something surges from deep inside of me. Something that terrifies me. Something that feels an awful lot like the sun exploding.
“Oh,” I say. Just like that. Like his words didn’t slam me sideways and cause an entire garden of flowers to bloom in my chest.
The corners of Ben’s mouth fall. His eyes are raw, fragile. From the looks of it, he’s ready to get up and walk out of my room. Probably for good. And I don’t blame him.
I’m not entirely sure, but I think I might be an idiot when it comes to dealing with guys.
Ben stands to go and my heart lurches against my ribcage.
I rise to my knees. “Wait!”
He stops, his hands resting on his thighs, and turns to me. His face is a roadmap of strange, crooked lines and I want to follow them all.
“Ben, I’m a moron, okay? I like you too. I like that you have just one dimple instead of two. And I like the way you can make me laugh about nothing. I like your uneven eyebrows, and your music, and your scruffy chin. I like that you can cook actual food—not just macaroni and powdered cheese. And that you talk about your little brothers and your mom. I like you like you. And you were right—I was jealous of that girl this afternoon. I know it’s stupid, but I was so jealous that I could hardly breathe.”
He moves. There’s a confused moment—one of reaching and awkward angles and limbs tangling—and then our lips are pressed together and there’s so much heat rippling through the collision that I sway.
Ben half-carries me backward and lowers me to the bed with his right arm braced behind my shoulders. I am pulling frantically at his clothes—at the tiny buttons of his shirt and the stubborn zipper of his pants. He captures my hands and stills them between us.
“I want to be with you Ellie,” he says pensively, his loose hair tickling my face. “I—I want you so much that I think I’m going a little bit crazy.”
I arc my back so that our bodies touch everywhere. He gasps and rolls me over.
“I want to be with you too. In every way,” I reply, gently tracing his jaw with the tip of my tongue.
Ben closes his eyes and shudders. He swallows and I watch the hard movement of his throat. I kiss him there.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “Do you trust me?”
I touch the side of his face. I kiss him lightly just below his chin. My voice is a frothy light bubble. “I trust you.”
And then there are no more words between us—just the sounds of clothes being peeled and tossed to the floor, and gasping breaths, and small noises of pleasure when hands and mouths find new, uncharted places. Never breaking the rhythm that we’ve fallen into, Ben slides the thin straps of my bra from my shoulder. He kisses the bare skin there and cups my breasts in his palms. Wrapping his arm around my back, he lifts me so that he can manipulate the clasp. I unravel in a series of unintelligible sounds and shivers as he works his mouth over me.
Pausing, Ben’s eyes close and he inhales through his nose. He’s holding his weight above me with one hand. “You are…” He murmurs as he shifts down further, slowly trailing his soft lips over the terrain of my body. “So beautiful.”
I answer with a moan. I am lost and full of wanting at the same time. He stops at the dip of my stomach to taste my belly button, and I let my eyes flutter closed.
“I think about this all of the time,” he says breathily against my skin. “I think about how you taste, and the sounds that you make, and the way that you smell.”
“I—I…” I try to say something, but no words will form.
Ben chuckles. “It’s torture. I can hardly sleep when I’m not next to you. My brain is so full of you, it’s like there’s not room enough for anything else.”
His kisses continue until my breath is coming so fast, I worry that I’ll start to hyperventilate.
“Ben,” I say, digging my hands into his hair.
He breaks contact for a moment and looks up at me with eyes that are on fire. I try not to writhe under him. “Ellie,” he mirrors my tone.
Reaching sideways, I fumble one-handed with the drawer of my nightstand until I find what I’m looking for.
“You’re positive?” Ben’s hot misty breath swirls against my skin.
I say nothing. I just rip open the packet and pull him closer.
When he rocks into me, speaking low into my mouth and cradling my face in his hands, every part of me feels awake and alive.
After, our feet entwined under the covers and my head resting on his bare chest while the dark jagged shadows of my room at night hover, Ben tells me, “I think we should say something to Ainsley and Payton right away.”
Inwardly, I cringe. In my contentment, I’ve forgotten about the tiny detail of the girl pact with my other housemates. I run my index finger over the bumps of his ribs. “Maybe we should wait a little while longer. Just until after exams. That will give them all of winter break to adjust to the idea of it.” Translation: to get over my hypocrisy.
He’s twirling the ends of my hair between his thumb and finger. “Okay,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “If that’s what you think is best. But, I do want to take you on a real date. And I won’t take no for an answer.”
I smile into the dark. “A real date? Like, where you come to my door with flowers and have to have me home safe by midnight?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to turn into a pumpkin.”
This makes me laugh. “I think you have the details of the fairytale mixed up, but okaaaay… When would you like to go on this proposed date?”
His arm curls around me, lifting me higher so that my cheek scrapes against the stubbly growth that covers his jaw. “You take the LSAT on Saturday morning, right?”
“Yep.”
“Then Saturday night it is.”
I look at him. “Ainsley will be at that social and Payton mentioned something the other day about going to see a concert with Hedda and Megan, so I don’t think she’ll be home either.”
He touches the tip of my nose lightly. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at your bedroom door and I’ll have something better than flowers for m’lady.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hedgehogs Love to Lunch
The cool air kicks up around me when the glass door opens. After that stuffy room of ticking clocks and circular questions, it’s like a flood of water after a long, earth-cracking drought. I pause to the side of the entryway, slipping into my burgundy jacket and switching my phone ringer back into the on position.
“There she is!” I hear a familiar voice.
“Ellie-bear, over here!”
I spin and scan the bodies moving past, threading out of the building where I’ve just spent the longest three hours of my life. There, huddled underneath the grey stone archway, backlit by the midday sun, are Mark, Payton and Ainsley.
I laugh out loud. My three friends lurch toward me—Ainsley squealing, Mark asking a thousand questions, and Payton pulling my arm.
“Wait—what in the world are you guys doing here?”
Payton leans in. “Well, babe, we came to see how you did on the test.”
“And to take you out to lunch,” Ainsley adds.
“And to bring you this,” Mark says. He hands me a stuffed animal.
I look down at the small brown fluffy
thing in my hands. “What is this? Is it…” I turn it over to examine the other side. “A hedgehog?”
Mark puts his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes dramatically. “I, too, am completely baffled by the significance of the hedgehog, but Miss Ainsley here insisted on it instead of something useful like a pocket protector, or a foot warmer, or eyeglass cleaner.”
I’m shaking my head and smiling. “I don’t even wear glasses.”
Mark’s shoulders lift. “Still would have been more practical than a fuzzy hedgehog.”
Ainsley sticks out her tongue at him and throws back a lock of blonde hair. “Mark, I explained before that the hedgehog doesn’t represent anything or serve any logical purpose. It’s simply cute for the sake of cuteness.”
Mark gives me a see-what-I’ve-been-dealing-with look.
Payton laughs and pulls my arm in the direction of the parking lot. “Come on,” she says, digging her keys out of her purse. “I’m completely starved.”
“Me too.” Mark swings my hand in his. “I think that we should go to that new Greek place over on Westwood. The hedgehog says he’s heard they have an excellent baklava.”
Ainsley giggles and slides her sunglasses down her nose. “Oh Mark, you’re too much.”
“So, how was it?” Payton asks after we’ve ordered our drinks.
We’re in a courtyard that’s been outfitted with one of those canvas tent coverings so that it can be used even once the weather turns cool. There are dozens of potted plants of varying heights positioned around the tables. An elaborate outdoor fountain burbles soothingly in the center of the stone and stucco patio. Two low-slung brick walls, nearly being swallowed by creeping ivy, curve around both sides of the space like parenthesis.
“Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I say, unfolding a napkin on my lap. “Don’t get me wrong—my brain is throbbing like it’s just been flattened by a zamboni, but I feel like it could have been worse.”
Ainsley crinkles her nose. “What in the world is a zamboni?”
“It’s one of those machines that resurfaces the ice at a skating rink,” Mark replies matter-of-factly.
“Ohhhh, okay…”
“Anyway, back to the test…” Payton redirects, rolling her hand in the air. She’s wearing three different gaudy rings and a bracelet cuff with a smiling panda bear emblazoned in the center. “How do you think you did on it?”
I look up and let out a big breath. “I won’t know for a few weeks but it felt okay, you know?” I realign my fork and knife so they’re perpendicular to the edge of the table. “I had some difficulty with one section but overall, I think I did fine.” This is not entirely true. I struggled more than I thought that I would.
“Brian and Pam will be happy,” Payton says, taking a sip from her glass.
“Totes,” Ainsley chimes in.
Brian and Pam are my parents—the power-suit-wearing mega lawyers.
“Well, I care more about what the admission panel at Columbia thinks,” I say tersely, trying not to let my brain linger on how I probably should have been studying last night instead of kissing Ben.
I smooth out my napkin again and fiddle with my phone. The waitress arrives with a pad in hand and we order and debate whether or not to get hummus and pita chips for the table.
Mark decides, swishing his hand out and saying definitively, “I think it’s always a good idea to err on the side of hummus.”
Who can argue with that?
What happens next is that we start talking, and then the dishes of food are brought out until our table is overflowing with Greek cuisine. We’re passing around the hummus, and the stuffed steamed grape leaves that Ainsley bravely ordered. I laugh at a story that Payton tells with her mouth half-full.
When the waitress makes a stop at our table, we ask for a round of ouzo even though it’s the middle of the day and Ainsley has to get ready for the social that she’s going to tonight, and I’ve got my secret date with Ben.
And we’re happy and triumphant, and for a little while I don’t worry about LSAT questions that I think I missed, or that I should have gotten more sleep last night, or that I am lying to Ainsley and Payton about my sexual escapades. I don’t think about the fact that I still have to complete a knock-out essay for my Columbia application, or that semester exams start in seventeen days.
For a few blissful moments, it seems possible that things can work out. I imagine getting back an incredible LSAT score, and acing my exams, and getting the summer internship that I want. In my head, Payton and Ainsley won’t be upset when they find out that I’ve slept with Ben, and Mark might get on board with my romantic life. And maybe, he’ll go on a second date with Hal Shepherd.
It could happen. It really could.
And this thing with Ben… it could be something. I find myself thinking about him far too often, which is totally unlike me. I’ve always been so focused on what’s next—never on the here and now. And guys haven’t exactly been a priority before. When I was fifteen and my friends were filling spiral notebooks with doodles of boy’s names, I was taking advanced classes that weren’t even required at my high school, and adding club activities to fluff my resume.
Sure, I’ve been on my fair share of dates, but I can’t remember anyone making my heart go topsy turvy like this. The only person that even came close was Simon Yancey, who had polo shirts in a wide array of My Little Pony colors, and always wore coordinating Sperry’s as if he might encounter a yacht at any moment.
Simon and I dated for four months, which I suppose is sort of an era by high school standards. Simon has bragging rights to my virginity—an epic unveiling which lasted all of forty-five seconds and had me wondering what all the fuss was about.
Things got better in that department in college, but still… no one’s ever gotten under my skin like this before. I could probably spend hours rewinding each moment that I’ve spent with Ben over and over again. I could put it on a crazy loop until I can practically taste his determined mouth teasing mine, and feel his long fingers moving against my skin.
“Oh my…” That’s Payton from my left, pulling me back from my runaway thoughts. “Isn’t that the guy who screwed Ben’s ex? What’s his name? David? Dylan?”
The rest of us direct our attention to where Payton’s looking discreetly over her shoulder. I spot Drew at one of the smaller tables, sitting close to a slender girl with long dark hair. She turns her face almost like she senses us watching, and I see that it’s Lily.
They look pretty cozy for two people that are no longer speaking to each other.
“Yep,” I confirm glibly even though my pulse has spiked and all sorts of feelings are crashing around inside of me. “That’s Drew. And the girl that’s with him is the infamous ex. Her name is Lily.”
Mark’s eyes widen. He gives me a significant look. I shake my head lightly, hoping that he’ll take the cue and won’t give me away.
Ainsley leans her torso over the table and whispers urgently, “Boy, am I glad that Ben didn’t come with us. Can anyone else say awkward?”
I twitch. My fingers curl into my palm. “You guys invited Ben to come out to lunch with us?”
Ainsley nods, then her eyes dart away to check on Drew and Lily again. They’re preparing to leave and have yet to notice the four of us eye-stalking their every move. “Yeah, but he said he had to get some stuff ready for tonight. I don’t know if his band has a thing or what.”
My heart flutters and I blush. Our date is tonight. I know that Mark is scrutinizing my reaction and that he’ll be full of questions later, but I can’t help the warmth that’s creeping over my features.
On the other side of the patio, Drew helps Lily into her jacket and passes his arm across her shoulders. As they walk by our table, Drew does a double-take and stops abruptly.
He points at me and shuts one eye like he’s trying to place me. “Ellie, right?”
I nod my head twice. “Hi Drew. And, Lily, how are you?”
“Sorry, but do I know you?” She asks, shaking her head a bit. Her dark hair swishes against her golden skin. I notice that today she’s wearing another skirt that is so short she must have found it in the toddler section of a department store.
“Sort of. I’m Ben’s roommate. We met that night at the—”
She interrupts me. “Oh, that’s right. It was dark and I was distracted. You know how those things go. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Actually,” I say, gesturing to Payton and Ainsley. “All three of us are Ben’s roommates.”
“Well, isn’t that good for you,” she says with a condescending smile. My stomach flips over and I realize that I hate her. I hate her because of the way that she hurt Ben, who is so full of love and light. I hate that she took even one bit of that from him. And, I hate the smug look on her face.
Payton angles her head and grins artfully. “In all honestly, we’re more than Ben’s roommates. We’re all sleeping with him and, truth be told, the sex is incredible. Well, I suppose that you would know that already.” She ends her proclamation with an elusive shrug.
I half-gag on a sip of water. Ainsley’s blue eyes widen. Drew’s eyebrows lift about five feet in the air. Mark claps his hands and laughs raucously.
Lily looks like she’s ready to throw Payton into the patio fountain, but before she says or does anything, Drew pulls her away from our table and out the door.
“That was interesting,” Mark manages finally when they’re out of range of hearing.
“You are a terrible person,” I tell Payton, but I don’t really mean it. I can’t keep the smile off my face.
She giggles. “That bitch deserved it.”
Ainsley’s mouth is pursed into an oval shape. “Well, she’s definitely an awful human being, but she’s really quite pretty. I’ll give her that much.”
Payton scoffs and narrows her eyes. “I know girls like that. Trust me. She’s got venom for blood and a shard of ice where her heart should be. Plus,” she says as she tosses her head to one side, “I don’t think she’ll age very well.”
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