by Tiffany King
He moved slowly, gently swiping his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “You missed a little,” he said before licking his thumb clean. Instant heat coursed through my body with a desire like I’d never felt. I hadn’t realized it was possible. It definitely had never happened with Zach.
• • •
fall 2012
“Dude, I counted like twelve scouts in the stands. You’re a star, brother,” Dan said, clapping Zach on the back when he left the locker room with his hair still wet from the shower.
Zach’s face went slack at Dan’s words. “You’re yanking my chain, right? Dad said two at the most would be showing up for this game.”
“I’m serious, brother. You’re a hot commodity.” Dan held out his closed fist so they could bump.
I was surprised it took Zach a moment to respond, and when he did, it was halfhearted at best. “What’s wrong?” I asked, sidling up to him and dragging Tracey, who seemed reluctant to follow, behind me.
He answered, running a hand through his wet locks. “Nothing. I just wish I would have played better.”
“Played better? You threw three touchdowns. It would have been four if Butterfinger Bradley wouldn’t have dropped that last pass.”
“Yeah, but I got sacked twice and threw an interception before halftime.”
“Which translated to nothing.”
Zach shrugged, and I could still see he was bothered by it. “You played great, Zach.” I gave him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled at me, but I noticed it didn’t quite make it to his eyes. I wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel better, and in the end it was Tracey who seemed to center him with her comment.
“You only care about FSU anyway, and they already want you, right?” she reasoned. “Who cares about any of the rest?”
“She’s right, my friend,” Dan added. “You were destined for FSU since you were a baby crapping in your diaper.”
“Nice, Dan,” Kat laughed, giving him a swat. He retaliated by pulling her into his arms and giving her a searing kiss. I looked away. Lately it seemed intrusive to watch them when they were affectionate with each other. Zach and I had shared our fair amount of kisses over the years, but even though they were pleasant and familiar, they were never as heated as what Dan and Kat shared.
Zach tugged my hand and held me back as the others headed toward his Suburban.
“You okay?” I asked as he turned me to face him. He answered by crushing his lips to mine. Caught unprepared, I gasped, which he responded to by shoving his tongue in my mouth. He backed me against the wall and pressed his body completely against mine. The contact was not new for us, but it had been a year since we’d gone all the way. It wasn’t quite what I had been expecting and since then had kept things above the waist. If Zach wanted more, he’d never indicated it until now.
I maneuvered my hands up to his chest, pushing him back. “Zach, someone might see us.” I felt inadequate when he kissed me like this. Where was the heat I always heard about?
Zach’s eyes met mine briefly. They were filled with anguish that totally did not match his personality. “You’re right,” he agreed, shouldering his gym bag. He headed toward the parking lot while I watched from the shadows of the breezeway. I told myself his kiss had something to do with his feelings about the game, but deep down I suspected it meant something more. My insecurity that this was my fault always lingered. He would never utter the words, but I couldn’t help wondering if he was sorry we stayed together. If I really cared about him, I would let him go. Let him find someone who could offer him what I was lacking. Selfishly, I pushed the thoughts away. It wasn’t like he’d ever asked for an out. This would be our last year together anyway. Soon we’d be at different universities, and he could explore other relationships. Logically it made sense.
nine
Bentley
Is there anything hotter than watching a girl lick something? Not that I could tell Mac that, but damn. With any other girl I would have made a move. Mac was different, though. I knew I needed to take it slow with her. She always seemed to be on the verge of fleeing, and I didn’t want to do anything to spook her. There was no rush. Though other parts of my body might disagree.
It was like Mac didn’t realize how attractive she was. I’m sure it had something to do with her disability, but that was all in her mind. I guarantee no other guy would see her the way she obviously viewed herself. I know I didn’t. It was a conversation I would love to have with her, but definitely at another time.
“Okay, now that the brownies are in the oven, it’s time to do some serious pumpkin carving.” I plucked the remaining uncarved pumpkin off the counter.
“Should I ask what this is supposed to be?” she asked, turning Chad’s pumpkin around.
“It’s the Halo symbol. That’s Chad’s work. I told you he was a total slacker.”
“And this one?” She turned another pumpkin around. “Is that supposed to be boobs?”
“That’s Michael for you.” I didn’t mention that I was the one who sketched the outline on the pumpkin since he had totally effed it up.
“I’m sure you and Chad didn’t have any input,” she deadpanned before cracking a smile.
“We may have offered a little guidance.”
“So, what are your plans for this one?” She patted my pumpkin, spinning it around.
“I’m more of a traditionalist. Triangle eyes and nose, a toothy grin. You know, classic. Do you want to work at the bar or the coffee table?” I asked, grabbing a knife from the drawer.
She eyed the counter and the high barstools before answering. “I think the coffee table works best.”
“Good for me. I’ll grab some newspaper and a marker. You can go grab a seat,” I said, noticing she looked like she was dragging a little. I felt like a complete asshole making her stand so long. I should have offered her a chair while we made the brownies. She was obviously the suffer-in-silence type. It was easy to forget about her leg because she never harped on it.
“So, where’s Sherman?” she asked, maneuvering around the coffee table and sinking down on the couch. A pinched look crossed her face as she absentmindedly massaged her leg.
“Probably plotting my demise.” I spread the newspaper across the coffee table.
“He can’t be that bad. After all, he’s nothing more than an overgrown lizard.”
“Trust me. That green bastard has it out for me. He’s lucky I haven’t fed him to the neighbor’s dog.” I set the pumpkin on the coffee table and plopped down next to Mac. If my close proximity bothered her, she didn’t let on. The same enticing smell of strawberries and vanilla that I had caught a whiff of when I carried her assaulted my senses. I was a fan of the fruity body sprays chicks liked to wear. It made exploring certain things more like a treat.
I spun the pumpkin around trying to find the best side to sketch out the face before we started carving. That damn body spray was distracting me. I had to be cool or I’d look like an idiot. It was all about mind over matter.
After a moment, my body finally started cooperating, allowing me to focus on the task at hand. “I figured we’d both contribute to the drawing,” I said, sketching a pair of triangle eyes with the black Sharpie. I eyeballed them to make sure they were symmetrical.
“Are you sure? I might ruin it.” She smirked at me. “It looks like you take your pumpkin carving seriously.”
“I take pride in my work. Even if it is just carving a jack-o’-lantern. I trust that you understand the importance of superior pumpkin carving.”
“I’ll try not to let you down,” she answered as I handed the pumpkin over.
She turned the pumpkin to face her, blocking it from my view. I smiled at the way her eyebrows came together in deep concentration as she studied it intently before starting to draw. I thought I took my pumpkin carving seriously, but Mac was all business the way she gnawed the corner of her lip as she worked. After a few minutes, she finally turned it around so I could see it.
I c
huckled when I saw that she had painstakingly drawn eyebrows and eyelashes above the eyes. Obviously my pumpkin was going to be a she this year.
“You know that’s going to be a bitch to carve out?”
“Surely not for a professional like yourself?”
“You’re right. My turn again.”
Taking her eyelashes as a challenge, I drew a curved nose versus the simple triangle I normally would have gone with before handing the pumpkin back to Mac. It took her a long time to draw the mouth, and I was more than a little curious. Finally, after several minutes, she handed the pumpkin back to me, looking quite pleased with herself.
This time we laughed together as we eyed the pumpkin. Instead of the toothy grin I would have drawn, she had given the pumpkin wide heart-shaped lips that curved up into a smile. It looked like the jack-o’-lantern version of Angelina Jolie.
I cut a hole in the top and together Mac and I cleared the pumpkin of all its slimy innards, placing them on the newspaper I had laid out. Halfway through the messy process, I left Mac briefly to remove the brownies from the oven. Leaving them on the counter to cool, I grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge that were hidden behind the milk. I was satisfied to see her looking so relaxed while she separated the seeds from the slimy gunk we’d pulled from the pumpkin.
“Are you planning on planting your own pumpkin patch?” I teased, handing her one of the waters.
“Yep, right outside my dorm room window. No, really, I thought we could bake them and then eat them.”
I shot her a skeptical look.
“I’m serious. My dad used to do it when I was little,” she added when I still looked doubtful.
While Mac handled the pumpkin seeds, I started carving the mouth and eyes of the cleaned-out pumpkin. I was just finishing up by the time she was sliding the seeds into the oven. I handed the pumpkin to her when she sat back down so she could do the more delicate work. The nose, eyelashes, and eyebrows were too tricky for my big hands.
Once she was done, I dug around, looking for something to light it up since the guys and I had forgotten to get candles when we bought the pumpkins. I hit pay dirt, finding a mini flashlight in Michael’s room. We turned off the lights to admire our handiwork as we munched on brownies. Mac, who was coming completely out of her shell, oohed and awwed. My eyes kept straying to her face as she gazed at the pumpkin. I didn’t know her well, but I knew happiness when I saw it. If you would have told me a week ago that the standoffish girl I’d tried to talk to at the library would be standing in my apartment now, I would have thought you were high as a kite.
To make the evening complete, I turned on the TV and scrolled through the menu until I found a classic Halloween movie. Mac looked at the couch, and I could see the indecision on her face. With the only lights in the living room coming from the TV and the jack-o’-lantern, it wasn’t hard to discern what she was thinking. Not wanting the evening to end, I sat down on the couch, acting oblivious to her dilemma. It took a few seconds, but with one last look at the door, she came over to the couch and sat next to me. She practically hugged the arm of the couch like it was a lifeline. I wanted to chuckle, but that would be like showing her the door. I was cool waiting. She was worth it.
ten
Mac
Spending the evening with Bentley was nothing like I would have expected. Of course, that wasn’t saying much since my expectations were virtually nonexistent. I had no measuring stick to compare it to. My relationship with Zach throughout high school never reached the intensity of other couples like Dan and Kat. They acted like the sun would fail to rise if they skipped a day of seeing each other. Their dedication to one another had been unique and special. With college always in my sights, I’d found their relationship unsettling at times, especially when I worried that Zach would want the same from me. He and I had shared our moments, but there was never anything there that would take us to that next level.
With Bentley, it felt different already. The sensations he evoked in me when he removed the chocolate from my lips were unexpected, even foreign in a way. I wanted to write them off as a fluke, but as the evening wore on, the feelings would continue to surface. It was as if my body was ready to react every time we stood close or, worse yet, touched slightly, like when his hand found mine inside the pumpkin. I’d worked so hard over the past year and a half to avoid human contact that I now found myself unprepared for how to handle it.
It was only when Bentley turned the lights off and started the movie that I really questioned my sanity. I tried to put as much distance between us as possible by sitting on the opposite arm of the couch. It wasn’t exactly subtle, but outside of sitting on one of the barstools behind him, which would have been truly awkward, it was the best I could do. I surreptitiously studied his profile when he was so into the movie that he wasn’t paying attention. I’d been right on that first day. He really was handsome. Even without the dimples, he had the kind of face that called for a second look. At first glance, you might chalk him up as cute, but something would draw your attention back, making you realize he went beyond that. Maybe it was the constant gleam in his eyes and the subtle grin that never seemed to be far from the surface. Or maybe it just boiled down to the fact that I was so hard up for human interaction that a paper bag would look attractive.
Even with the gap between us on the couch, our hands were mere inches apart. I expected him to reach for mine, considering the way he had held my hand during our walk to get to his apartment. Of course, I had snatched it away. Maybe that had bothered him after all. I could have reached over and taken his hand, but there was no way I could muster the nerve. Basically, that was how the rest of the evening went. My mind was so preoccupied, I don’t think I could tell you anything about the movie.
Later on, Bentley drove me home. I was grateful not to walk the distance again and had readily agreed. All the parking spots were taken when we arrived, so I had him drop me off at the front of my building. He seemed disappointed that he wouldn’t be walking me to my door.
We sat in the car for several seconds of awkward silence. “So, thanks for the lift,” I finally said, opening the car door. He hesitated before answering. I hoped he didn’t think I was expecting him to kiss me or anything like that.
“No problem. Thanks for celebrating the holiday with me.”
“That’s what friends do, right?” I emphasized the friend part.
He looked serious for a moment before his sexy full lips stretched into a smile. I found his lips to be very distracting. They were enticing no matter what they were doing. The temptation to see if they were as soft as they looked was becoming hard to ignore.
He burst my bubble by agreeing with me. “Absolutely.”
My heart dipped. That was my problem. I obviously didn’t know what I wanted. One minute I’m worried he might kiss me, and the next I’m disappointed when he doesn’t. I obviously had a problem with mixed signals. I couldn’t help wondering if that had been what came between me and Zach.
• • •
graduation night 2013
We had all been herded together like a bunch of cattle inside the Ocean Center, waiting for the ceremony to start. I was searching for Tracey so she could help me reattach the opal hair clip my aunt had sent me for graduation. The clip was a beautiful soft shade of pink that complemented my light blond hair. The problem was my hair was too wispy and thin to keep it in place. Tracey had the magic touch when it came to fixing hair. I knew she could make it look beautiful like she had hundreds of times before.
I sidestepped Marcus and Kent, who were roughhousing in the middle of the room as Ms. Jenkins, one of the school administrators, tried to organize everyone into some semblance of a line. The ceremony start time was still forty-five minutes away. How she thought she could maintain order for that long was beyond me. Not wanting to be corralled, I darted around one of the black curtain dividers when I noticed Mr. Griffin, our assistant principal, jumping in to intervene with a determined look in hi
s eyes. “Gentlemen, please. Let’s try to act like adults.” I smiled with satisfaction at my escape into the nearly empty space beyond the black drapes. Freedom, no matter how brief, was sweet.
Walking silently to the other side of the large room, I spotted Tracey and Zach standing together. I skipped in the wide-armed-swinging-and-exaggerated-stepping fashion Tracey and I had developed when we were six years old. Even as teenagers, Tracey would link her arm through mine and skip through the outdoor hallways of our school. I’d cringe every time she did it. I hated people staring at me and judging me. When Tracey did stuff like that, people would smile, responding to her enthusiasm. If I did it, I felt foolish and stupid. Like I was trying too hard to be something I wasn’t. Today was different. It was easy to throw my insecurities to the side. We’d been talking about graduating for what felt like forever—having it finally upon us was exhilarating.
Tracey and Zach didn’t notice me skipping toward them, and I suddenly realized I had stumbled upon a scene that wasn’t meant for my eyes. I wasn’t supposed to see the guy I had always relied on tuck another girl’s hair behind her ear with such loving care. The act should have been innocent. We were all friends—best friends—but this was something more. Maybe it was the way his hand lingered as he gently cupped her ear. Had his hand ever lingered on me like that? Judging by the sheen in Tracey’s crystal blue eyes, it was clear there was something more between them than Zach and I had ever shared. Indecision gripped me. Should I confront them or back away? I was torn. My emotions felt as if they had been thrown in a blender. I didn’t know how I should feel about what I was seeing. How long had I missed this?
I began to move forward, but hesitated with my foot paused mid-step. Forward or backward? Somehow, everything seemed to hinge on what direction my foot would take. The moment felt heavy with significance. Retreat. That was the right move. My attempted getaway was thwarted when Tracey spotted me out of the corner of her eye. Any doubt that what I was seeing was only my imagination was clarified by the horrified look on her face. My best friend, who I had spent practically every Friday and Saturday night with for years, who shared a mutual crush on Troy Bolton from High School Musical, who squealed with me when my parents gave me Miley Cyrus tickets for my twelfth birthday, who held my hand when I had to get sixteen stitches after falling off the bed laughing—that same friend looked thunderstruck. A surge of anger swirled through me. I didn’t know what they were expecting. We were surrounded by a thousand graduating seniors, and she was surprised someone had caught them in the act?