by Lisa De Jong
“And what’s that?”
I pause and take a deep breath. “I want you to kiss me.”
The one hand that still remains on my elbow tightens and his eyes flash back and forth between mine. There’s an internal struggle inside of him; I can feel it . . . see it.
“Are you sure?” he finally asks.
I nod. “As sure as I’ve ever been about anything.”
“If I kiss you now, there’s no going back,” he says, swallowing hard.
I hadn’t thought past the kiss, but right now I’d do anything to feel his lips on mine. I nod.
He drops my arm, closing the distance between our bodies and putting his hands on either side of my head. When I feel his warm breath against my lips, I know it won’t be much longer. And when it finally happens, I close my eyes, letting myself feel his skin on mine and every emotion that flows through my head.
His lips are soft and gentle, barely touching mine at first, but growing more primal when he sucks my bottom lip between his. And when I grip the front of his shirt in my hands, he runs his tongue along my lips, coaxing mine open for him. I follow his lead, letting his tongue tangle with mine. I’ve only kissed two boys in my whole life if I don’t count the one who just took it from me when I pleaded with him not to.
Some kisses are just kisses, but Asher’s kiss is the best kind of kiss. It feels like heaven, and I never want to let him go. I feel like I’ve been living the last two years for this moment . . . for someone to save me. It’s a new beginning for me.
He slows his movement before pulling away and ending it with one more soft brush against my lips. I want to grab him and pull him close again, but I’m frozen in place.
“That was so fucking sweet,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.
I smile, swaying my body back and forth. He’s being modest. That kiss was out of this world.
“Asher, can you help me with the groceries?” I hear a deep male voice yell from behind me.
“Shit,” Asher mutters, pulling back from me. I instantly miss the contact. “Yeah, Dad. I’ll be there in a second.” He looks back down at me with a grin on his face. I know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing. We need to do that again. Soon. “I’ll be right back.”
The sun shines brightly in the sky, glistening on the dark blue water. I place my hand above my eyes to get a better look at the view. This week has been crazy, but I have a better appreciation for everything around me while a hundred thoughts swim through my head. I do know that I want to explore this with him and see where it takes me. Something about the way he looks at me tells me he’s safe. I don’t think he would ever intentionally hurt me, but I’m still treading cautiously.
After several minutes have passed, I walk to the front of the house to see if they need my help. There’s an old red Ford truck sitting next to Asher’s car, but I don’t see anyone outside. I walk to the front screen door, but stop when I hear Asher yelling.
“I don’t have to tell her!”
“What are you going to do? Just string her along until you can’t anymore?” his father shouts.
“It’s not like that!” Asher yells.
I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but I can’t stop myself, not when I think he might say something that will help me piece him together.
“You’re just going to end up hurting her. Is that what you want?”
“It’s my fucking life. Please just let me live it!” Asher screams.
I hear what sounds like a chair sliding against a hard floor and step back from the door. Was he talking about me? Or Becca? And what does he mean by stringing her along until he can’t anymore?
I’m not sure what to do, but I don’t feel like I’m welcome company anymore. I’m about ready to turn on my heels and run home when the screen door flies open and Asher steps out. His face is red, and he’s in such a hurry that he almost walks right past me. I’m used to dealing with pissed off Beau, but I’ve never seen Asher like this.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” he calls from behind. His mood has switched so much that it’s almost scary.
I follow him to the Mustang, but stop in front of it instead of moving to the passenger side. “I was going to run back home. Don’t worry about it.”
“Get in the car,” he demands, opening the driver’s side door to stand between it and the car. His voice has gone as cold as an Iowa winter, but I don’t let it affect me. He’s struggling with whatever it is his father thinks he should tell me. I want to know what it is so badly, but I’m not going to push him.
I take a few steps in his direction, holding my right hand out. “Let me have your keys.”
“Why?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Because you don’t look like you should be driving right now,” I reply, taking a few steps closer.
He laughs. “And you think I’m going to let you drive my car?” Actually that thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. My plan was to convince him to take a walk down by the lake, but now that he mentioned it . . .
“What’s so funny about that?” I ask, stopping right in front of him.
“I never let anyone drive my car,” he replies. It’s like he’s daring me to ask again. He should know how I feel about dares by now.
I tilt my head and pull my lower lip between my teeth, not missing the way his lips quirk. “It’s only a mile. How much damage can I really do?”
His smile falls and his lips part like he wants to say something.
He shuts the door, dropping his keys in my hand as he walks by. I roll them around on my finger once before opening the driver’s door and climbing in. Asher settles into the passenger seat with his elbow resting on the top of the window jam and his head resting against his closed fist.
I start the car and glance down only to see it’s a stick shift. I hate driving manuals. They made us do it one day in Driver’s Ed, and I thought I was going to die . . . it’s a good thing our town doesn’t have many stop signs. I feel like I’m an inch tall because I convinced Asher to let me drive and now I don’t even know how to put it in gear.
“Umm, Asher, I don’t know how to drive stick shift. I mean, I do, but I really don’t,” I confess, scrunching my nose up at him.
He shakes his head, and the faintest of smiles plays on his lips. “Well, you wanted to drive this thing, so it looks like you’re going to get a quick lesson on manual transmissions.”
Crap.
“Okay, but if I break your car, it’s not my fault. I’ve warned you,” I say, adjusting the rearview mirror.
“First, put it into gear then press on the clutch and the break. Don’t take your feet off until I tell you to. Now, carefully remove your foot from the brake and put it on the gas while easing up on the clutch.” I do exactly as he instructs, and after two tries we’re finally moving forward. “Now, pull up in the yard a little bit and then make a circle toward the road.”
The one mile drive took over fifteen minutes, but it was worth it. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard, even if Asher didn’t find my eighteen stalls funny. When he instructs me on how to turn it off and put it in park, I think we both breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thanks for taking my mind off my dad,” he states out of the blue. My driving skills must have done the trick.
“I’m glad I could help you for once.”
“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.
“Yeah, my normal seven to two,” I reply, turning to face him.
“Maybe I’ll come see you,” he says, running his tongue across his lower lip. It drives me crazy when he does that.
“I’d like that.” I smile, turning to walk toward the front door. I’m ready to put this whole day behind me and see what tomorrow brings.
“Hey, Kate,” Asher yells from behind me. I stop, looking back at him.
“Yeah?”
The corners of his mouth turn up; showcasing the smil
e I’ve been missing since he walked out of the lake house after talking to his dad. “I just thought you should know that you’re the best first kiss I’ve ever had.”
He winks at me before jumping into his driver’s seat and disappearing down the street leaving me standing there with my fingertips on my lips. It was my best first kiss too.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I find regret stirring deep inside of me. Not because I kissed Asher, but because of what did or didn’t happen afterward. I should have asked him about the things his father said. I should have asked him what was bothering him on the ride back to my house, but I didn’t. Maybe I was just scared of the truth, but now I’m lying here in my bed wondering what the truth is and what was going through Asher’s mind after. It’s making me insane.
I let a mysterious and seemingly complicated guy into my life but trying to figure him out is taking my mind off of all of my own problems. I want to ask him about all of the things that make him tick, but then what if he expects the same from me? And what if I can’t handle his demons?
When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up, but now I know it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
I’ve been stuck in time at age seventeen for the past two years. My life didn’t end in a literal sense that night . . . I’m still breathing, but time is at a complete standstill. I didn’t feel like anything spectacular before, but now I don’t even feel ordinary. I don’t know where to go from here. It’s not that I want to live with my mom and work in a diner forever . . . I just don’t see much of a future for myself.
Everything I thought I knew about life has been proven wrong. I can’t trust people just because I know their name. I have to learn to stand on my own two feet so that I can take the challenges life presents head on.
How? I’m still trying to figure that out. Sometimes it’s easier to live in the misery than to crawl out of it. When I’m with Asher, I want to try. He’s holding my hand a little tighter each day as I do things I haven’t let myself do in a really long time. It gives me a little strength I didn’t have before, and it’s giving me a glimpse of what my life could be if I learn to let go of some of my anger and guilt. I owe it to myself to at least try.
When I finally roll out of bed, there’s only twenty minutes before I have to be at work. I quickly shower, deciding to let my hair dry into natural waves. I’m out the door in my red Bonnie’s shirt and faded blue jeans with five minutes to spare. The air is starting to get a little cooler with each passing day; it won’t be long until I’m trading t-shirts for sweaters and a coat.
I take a shower without letting the scalding water turn my skin deep red, and I drive to work without panicking. It’s going to be an uphill battle, but I know there will come a day when I can begin to focus on more of the positive things than the negative.
As I walk inside the back door of the diner, I greet the cooks, earning me a curious glance from the two of them. I don’t usually talk much unless it’s my mom or Diana, keeping to myself makes my life easier, even if it doesn’t make it happier.
“What’s gotten into you this morning?” my mom asks, coming around the corner.
“Just trying to look at life from a different perspective,” I reply, tying my apron behind my back.
She places her hand on my arm, halting my movements. “Look, Kate, I’m sorry for yelling at you the other night. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.” Her voice is soft and soothing. I want to tell her it’s no big deal; I’ve probably made some mistakes that she hasn’t, but as always, I don’t say a word.
“We’re just friends. There’s no need to worry,” I say, smiling as I remember the very second his lips touched mine yesterday. It’s a moment I won’t soon forget.
“Well, you’ve changed for the better since meeting him, so he must be doing something right.” She smiles, walking away.
As the morning comes to an end, my eyes are glued to the door, waiting for Asher to walk in. He’d said he might come see me, so I’ve been hanging on to the hope that he will all morning. My stomach clenches a little tighter with each passing minute.
Every time I hear the bell above the door ring, my head turns to see if it’s Asher, but he never comes.
When my shift is over, I drive home with all things Asher filling my head; the way he looks when he smiles, his scent, and the way he makes me feel when he’s close. I want to see him again so badly, but I’m afraid there’s a reason he didn’t show up today. And if I’m honest with myself, I’m afraid of the rejection.
As I jump in for a quick shower to wash the smell of French fries and bacon out of my hair, I’m reminded of all the times Beau used to come over after I got off work. He would purposefully move, as close to me as he could get, and inhale more deeply than I ever thought was possible. “Hmm, you smell like bacon,” he’d say.
Just thinking about him warms my heart, but it also brings me sadness. I’ve pushed him away without much of an explanation and all it’s done is hurt him. I may not be able to explain everything to him right now, but I need to stop pushing him before he falls over the ledge and I lose him forever. He’s been the one constant strength in my life, and I can’t afford to let him walk away. I see that now.
My first instinct is to crawl back into bed and waste the afternoon away like I’d usually do, but I know it won’t help me. I’ll drift off to the same place I always do until I cry my eyes out and fall asleep. Instead, I grab a book from my desk and start to read. Reading is something I used to enjoy when I didn’t have another care in the world, but that I haven’t taken much time to do it the last couple years. I should have never let it go because it’s a nice escape from the real world . . . something I’ve needed desperately.
I’m into the third chapter when my cell phone rings, drawing my attention away from my book. I can hear the chirping ring, but I can’t find it. I notice the bottom of my jeans sticking out from under the bed and pull them out, reaching in the front pocket. The screen shows a number that I don’t recognize. “Hello?” I say hesitantly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Kate.” The agony I hear on the other side of the phone is enough to make me sick.
“Asher?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I just needed to hear your voice.”
“How did you get my number?” I ask, hesitantly.
“I called the diner. They wouldn’t give it to me at first, but I have my ways,” he says, sounding as if he’s in emotional or physical pain. It’s hard to hear anyone sound like that, but when it’s someone I’m really starting to care for it’s even worse.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“No, I’m not okay,” he replies. “Everything’s so fucked up. The worst part is I probably deserve it.”
“What are you talking about? Where are you?” I ask, standing up to pace my room. I don’t like the way he sounds and I have to go to him.
“Pete’s,” he says. He’s either drunk or losing it. Maybe a little bit of both.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t go anywhere.” Pete’s is the local bar, and where my mom works in the evenings. I’ve only been in there a few times to bring my mom something she forgot before work, or to pick up some dinner for myself. It’s really not the type of place a girl like me goes alone without good reason.
“Kate, don’t. I just . . . I just needed to hear your voice,” he mumbles.
“Don’t argue with me,” I say, hanging up the phone before he has time to reply. Now I know how Beau feels when I’m pushing him away and not taking his help when he offers it to me. When you care about someone, it’s instinctive to want to help that person, no matter what you have to do to accomplish it.
I change out of my sweats, slip on a pair of faded skinny jeans, and then pull a long black t-shirt over my head, and I’m out the door. I wonder if this has anything to do with what happened between him and his dad last night, or if something else happened today. I’m not even sure he’ll tell me when I get the
re, but if all I am is a sense of comfort for him, I’m okay with that.
I pull into Pete’s parking lot and take note of a group of three guys standing outside the front door, smoking cigarettes. When I open my door, I hear them laughing and joking, sounding every bit as drunk as they probably are. Normally, I would get back in my car and leave as fast as I could, but Asher’s in there and he needs me.
I step out onto the gravel parking lot and concentrate on the sound of my tennis shoes grinding into the small pebbles. It helps me take my mind off the uneasiness that is spreading like wildfire throughout my body. I keep my eyes on the door as I count my steps, getting closer and closer. Only ten or so more steps, I think.
“Hey, beautiful, why don’t you stay out here with us?” one of the men shouts, taking a couple shaky steps toward me. I keep my head up to avoid looking at him and speed up my pace until my hand is finally on the handle. I pull it back, letting out a deep breath when it swings open. “Hey, where you going?” I hear him yell as I pull the door closed behind me. Never in my life did I think I could get through a situation like that without having a complete meltdown, but I did. My thoughts of Asher are more powerful than my fears.
Pete’s is decorated in dark wood furniture, and an outdated hunter green covers the walls. The worst thing about the whole place though is the overwhelming smell of beer and sweat. I hate it. That smell brings back so many memories that I wish I could forget, but I have to stay focused.
My eyes dart around the bar, looking for him between the booths and pool tables, but I don’t see him anywhere. My stomach rolls. What if he left before I got here? On the phone he’d sounded really out of it, and there’s no way he’s in the right frame of mind to drive home. I spot my mom behind the bar; maybe she knows where he has gone. Her eyes grow as big as quarters when she spots me.
“What are you doing here this late?” she asks, wiping her hands on a bar towel.
“Um, actually, I’m looking for Asher. Have you seen him?”