by Tessa Marie
“I can see that. Why?”
Shock crosses his face and it’s apparent he’s taken a bit off guard. He wasn’t expecting me to question his reaction any further, but I want him to be able to talk to me. I want him to trust me and feel he can tell me anything. Mostly I just want to know everything about him.
“The usual reasons. And I’ve just never been a big fan of school.”
“College is different than high school. You can take classes you want and make your own schedule, so if you don’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Take chances on something new that you might wind up hating, but you may wind up loving.”
“It all sounds great. But it’s expensive too.”
I roll my eyes, though I don’t mean to.
“What? It is.”
“It just seems like you’re coming up with every excuse under the sun. They have scholarships and loans, you know.”
“I know.”
“So then what is it really?”
He sits back in his seat, resting his hands on the steering wheel. “Why do you care?”
“Because I do. You’re kinda growing on me.”
“Is that so?” He leans in, a huge smile spreading across his face. My first instinct is to stop him, but one glance into those gorgeous blue eyes and I give into my desires instead. His lips brush across mine softly then more forcefully.
His fingers run down my back and rest at the hem of my shirt before he secures them around my waist. His hands are so big around me, and it feels amazing. I clear my mind and lose myself in each touch. Relish the feel of his mouth on mine, the heat radiating from his skin. His hand moves up my sides then back down and then his fingers slip under my shirt.
Panic surges through me. What if my stomach isn’t as smooth and flat as he assumes it will be? I try to calm down but as soon as his warm hand makes contact with my stretch mark-ridden stomach I wiggle out from under him. A hot throbbing pain expands through the back of my head as it bounces off the window.
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
I wince away, more from embarrassment than the pain.
“You hit your head really hard.”
“I’m fine…I really gotta go.” I reach for my bag, and as soon as it’s in my grasp, I fling the door open.
“Hailey,” Luke calls out but I’m already gone. I don’t even say goodbye.
Why didn’t this ever cross my mind? He’s a guy, and if it’s true what they say, most of the time all guys think about is sex. Of course he’d want to with his girlfriend. Hell, Nolan wanted to and I wasn’t even his girlfriend, just an easy target.
As I drive home I try to think of all the excuses I can give Luke to explain my sudden freak out. Unfortunately, I’ve never been good with making up excuses. Lately I’ve just been lucky. Becky’s the pro at it.
“Hi, this is Becky…” Of course I’d get her voicemail. I’m only in the middle of a major crisis here and need my best friend, so why wouldn’t it go right to voicemail. My cell falls out of my hand and into the cup holder with a thud.
I can get a hold of Becky later. Right now my biggest problem is trying to escape Mom’s wrath when I walk in the door fifteen minutes late to take care of my son.
I whiz by the other cars on the highway. The green, brightly lit numbers on the dashboard remind me of how late I actually am. Luckily, by the time it hits a quarter after I pull up to the house. I throw the car in park and am about to jump out when I catch Mom at the front door with that look on her face. The same look that usually preludes her calling me by my first and middle name—a terrifying combination.
At least she can’t punish me. I have to feed Brady and get him ready for bed. I take a deep breath, hoping it’ll give me the strength I need to face her. With my bag smacking me in the hip bone with each step I take I make myself move faster.
“I’m so sorry,” I say as I make it to the door. Brady rests on her hip, his face red and his eyes glassy with tears. “What’s the matter?” I ask in my baby voice, reaching for Brady’s hands.
“He’s cranky. I don’t have time for this. I’m late. Here, take him.”
She hands Brady over and when he’s in my arms a huge smile spreads across his face. He just wanted his mama. Guilt smacks into me, for putting myself before him.
Mom grabs her keys then disappears out the door. “We’ll talk about it later,” she yells as the screen door shuts and I know without a doubt we will.
There’s no use in worrying about it now. I only have an hour with my son before I have to put him to bed. I get his bottle ready. It takes him no time to finish it. Then his favorite part of the night: bath time.
I fill the sink with water. I’m still too scared to put him in the tub. It just seems too big for him. With soap suds, I make a light brown Mohawk on top of his head while he plays with his rubber ducky Aunt Becky gave him before we moved.
Brady excitedly throws his arms up, splashing water into my face. A high pitched giggle comes out and I place a kiss on his forehead. I love him so much and it only makes the guilt worse.
What if I never fell for Nolan’s bullshit? What if I wasn’t at that party that night? Would I be a different person? Would life be easier? Would Mom still have taken a job, hours away from our home? And would I have met Luke?
So many questions, so, so many, yet I can’t answer any of them. But I don’t know if I even want the answers. Life may not be going according to plan, but it’s still my life, and I have to be happy with that because I only have one, and no matter what, I have to make the best of it.
“Mama.” Brady’s tiny voice takes me away from my thoughts.
“Yes, sweetie.”
“Mama.” I rinse the soap from his head and kiss him on the forehead.
“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
I take Brady out of the sink and into his duck towel, another gift from his Aunt Becky. Once he’s dried and in his fire engine pajamas I take out Goodnight Moon from his bookshelf and sit in the chair with him on my lap. I try to read to him as often as I can. It’s the least I can do for him since I can’t provide much for him otherwise.
By the time I get to the last page he’s asleep in my arms. Makes me wonder if it really is developing his skills since every time I read he falls asleep. I maneuver carefully to get up so I don’t wake him. I still have homework, so if he stays asleep and I can start it before ten that would be a miracle.
I gently place him in his crib, relief falling over me as soon as his back is against the mattress and my arms are at my sides. Math time it is, but first I need fuel.
The one thing I can always count on us having is peanut butter and jelly.
I’m about to take the first bite of my sandwich when a knock at the door stops me. I’m not expecting anyone, and I swear if they knock one more time and wake Brady I may hurt them. I run to the door, sandwich still in hand and open it before they have a chance to knock again.
My heart jumps into overdrive, wildly thrashing against my chest. What the hell is Luke doing here? He’s making it increasingly hard to keep Brady out of his sight.
Maybe my freak out tipped something off. Maybe he knows. What if he’s come to break things off with me? My head spins in a thousand directions, and my heart practically comes out of my chest.
“Luke, what are you doing here?” I position myself between him and the opening that would lead him into my home.
“I wanted to see if you were okay and apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?” I look up into his sapphire eyes that just happen to be perfectly spotlighted by the overhead light. Does he plan things this way? Because he always manages to stand in these positions that accentuate all of his amazing qualities, which only make me want him even more than I already do.
“I was moving too fast, and I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry for that. I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me. I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”
If he only knew t
he real reason. If my stomach wasn’t laden with unsightly stretch marks I would have been more than willing to allow Luke’s hands to search my entire body. It’s all I think about.
“I’m sorry I freaked.” I may as well go with it. I can’t tell him the truth and it’s better than him thinking I’m some kind of whack job.
“There’s no reason for you to be sorry. It was my fault. I take total blame.”
He’s too good. He’s honest, he’s sincere. And me, I’m a liar. A deceitful fraud.
“So do you forgive me?”
There’s nothing to forgive him for. I’m the bad guy in the equation, not him.
“Of course I do.”
“Can I come in? Your mom’s at work, right?”
“Uh.” That’s a real intelligent response but I don’t know what to say. I want him to come in. So bad it hurts. I want to spend time with him, but not with the risk at any second Brady could wake up and call me mama. It just has disaster written all over it. “I have homework.”
“Come on, I’ll even cook you something.” He points to the sandwich I forgot was in my hand. “Peanut butter and jelly is not dinner.”
“I love peanut butter and jelly. Don’t knock it.”
“I’m not. I love it too. I’m just saying for dinner you have better options.”
“You can cook too? What is it that you can’t do?”
“A lot. Let me cook you dinner and I’ll tell you all of the things I’m horrible at.” His eyes meet mine again and the answer should be simple. I should say thank you but I have homework and shut the door and return to my reality, but he did come all this way to see me and apologize, so the least I could do is let him in.
I step away from my guard post and allow Luke to step into my home. The one place where I can be who I really am. Maybe this is a big mistake. Because as long as Luke is in my home I have to lie. What choice do I have?
“Which way is the kitchen?” he asks as he moves past me.
“It’s over here.” I lead the way, bringing Luke farther into my home and closer to Brady.
“So what do you want?” he asks.
“What can you make?”
“Give me ingredients and I’ll figure something out.”
“Let’s see then.” I pull out a box of angel hair pasta and a can of crushed tomatoes.
“I can work with that.” Why don’t you get started on your homework and I’ll take it from here.”
I step back, allowing him to find his way around the kitchen. Before I get my books I watch him and think to myself how did I get so lucky?
My homework is top priority, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to hold Luke to telling me everything he’s bad at. So once I finish five out of the twenty math questions, I put my pencil down and look over at him. Whatever he’s doing smells amazing, and I can’t think about math right now.
He’s so focused he doesn’t notice me staring. Even from behind he looks good. He took his hoodie off when he started on the sauce, leaving his arms exposed. With each stir of the spoon, and each reach into the cabinet for spices, the definition of his arms only stands out, increasing my desire to be wrapped in them.
“So what are you bad at?” I ask, diverting my gaze from his arms just in time to catch his eyes as he turns to face me.
“I can’t dance to save my life. I can’t tie a tie. I’ve taken Spanish for the past four years and don’t even know enough to get by. I can’t roll my R’s, which my Spanish teacher thinks I’m lying about. And I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Oh my God, you’re such a cornball.”
He laughs and my heart melts a little. “That was super corny, but very, very true.” The floor creaks as his Doc Martens step closer to me. I breathe deeply through my nose preparing myself for whatever bodily contact he has in mind. “Here, taste this.” He brings the wooden spoon inches from my lips. Steam rises from the red sauce on the tip and Luke blows on it before moving closer to my waiting mouth.
Spices I can’t quite identify explode on my tongue. He has managed to turn a boring can of plain crushed tomatoes into the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. When he pulls the spoon away, my stomach growls.
“So what do you think?” he asks, and with the cocky look on his face, I know he already knows.
I humor him anyway. “Amazing. You’re amazing.” I can’t believe I just jumped on the corny ship. Luke leans down, placing his lips right where the spoon just was. His kiss is slow and sweet, as if he’s saying, welcome aboard.
“Waaaa!”
Oh crap! Brady. I jump up from the chair, almost knocking my head into Luke’s in the process.
“Go get your brother, and I’ll make us up some plates.”
I run out of the room, suddenly aware of how big a mistake this all is. I can’t keep Brady from Luke. He’ll see the way Brady clings to me then he’ll say mama, and Luke will know, and I’ll lose him. Tears threaten to form but I push them aside, focusing on getting to Brady and getting him back to sleep.
Brady stands in his crib and when he sees me his cute little arms shoot up. I reach into the crib and pull him up and into me. “Shh. Shh. Mommy’s here,” I whisper. “It’s okay.”
Please, please, please go back to sleep. I love you, but right now you need to go to sleep.
“You’re good with him,” Luke says from the doorway.
I freeze.
“You look like a pro from here.”
Did he hear me? Oh my God, I think I may be sick. I hold Brady closer, squeezing him tighter, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“Dinner’s ready. I just wanted to see if you needed help in here.”
My voice vanished the minute Luke stepped in. I search for it, and force words out. “I, um. No, I…I got it. Thanks.”
“I can see that now. You got him to stop crying almost instantly. You’re going to be a great mom someday.” The nausea returns. I focus on Big Bird on the wall and try to keep my cool. Try to calm myself down before I blow my cover completely.
“Yeah, someday,” I say, releasing my grip and placing Brady back into his crib. His eyelids slip shut, and I thank my lucky stars that this wasn’t a two hour ordeal. I’m not expecting Luke to walk over, but he does. My son’s in his crib on full display, his light brown hair swept over to the side, his almond shaped eyes and his full lips. Every feature that can be directly related to me is there for Luke to see.
I bite my lip, waiting for the realization to hit him. It’s only a matter of seconds before every part of the equation comes together. Before life as I know it goes back to me being the girl with the baby. The girl no one wants to associate with.
“He’s cute. He has your nose. Do you get it from your mom?”
“Yup. We don’t have the same dad.” Technically that’s not a lie. “Let’s go eat that amazing dinner you’ve prepared.”
Luke glides past me, trailing his hand from my waist to my back. I follow but first I look back in at Brady. Maybe inviting Luke in wasn’t a big mistake. Maybe it was exactly what I needed, so when the time comes to tell him the truth it won’t be as much of a shock because all of the pieces will fall into place.
I just hope he sticks around once they do.
Waking up after spending an awesome night with Hailey would be easier if she was here with me and not at home getting ready to spend the day with Roxy. Granted it’s for charity, but Roxy’s parents are involved which means it’s a bunch of rich snobs acting as if they give a shit about those who are less fortunate than them. Gag me.
Roxy used to refuse to go to those events because she knew it was a bunch of bullshit. Instead, unbeknownst to her parents, she’d volunteer her time at the local soup kitchen. She figured that was a more direct form of charity, and she knew exactly where the efforts were going. I even went with her a few times, but now she’s following the footsteps of the masses, pretending to care in a way that is so indirect it almost doesn’t count.
Not having Hailey to hang with, I’
m resorting back to my old Saturday habits, sitting on CJ’s couch waiting for him to clean his room so we can go down to the pier and hit up the local snack bar.
“Luke!” Mikey comes bouncing into the room. I swear the kid’s on a permanent sugar high.
“Hey little dude, what’s going on?”
“I just got a new game you want to play?”
“Sure, as long as you take it easy on me.”
“We’ll see.” A smirk forms on his face.
The television glows with a racetrack and import cars. Now this is a game I could possibly win. I drive an import car, and while it may not be as shiny and fancy as the ones whizzing by on the television, it has potential.
“You ready?” Mikey asks.
“Oh yeah.” My confidence has returned. He hands me the controller and I inch up to the edge of the couch, ready to give this game all I have.
I choose a newer version of my own car, while Mikey chooses the all too flashy BMW. An animated girl who looks more real than animated, walks out onto the track in a tiny bikini. Obviously, Mrs. Johnston hasn’t seen this yet because if she did I doubt Mikey would be allowed to play it.
A solid green flag is waved and the race begins. By the fourth lap I’ve managed to gain the lead. Mikey’s beside me and I feel him tensing up as he inches closer off the couch, his focus much more intense than when we started.
As each lap passes, Mikey gets more animated. He moves with the controller like it’ll give the car more speed. It’s the final lap and this could be it. This could be the first time I actually beat him.
But I realize how stupid I’m being and take my attention from the screen and glance at Mikey. The determination in his eyes is enough for me to make my car take one sudden turn, smacking it into the wall and taking me out of the race, leaving Mikey and his overly flashy BMW to win the game.
“I won! I won! You crashed! I won!” Hearing the excitement in his voice, I know I made the right decision.
“I thought I had you there.” I rub his head, making his hair stick up in a hundred different directions. “How do you beat me every time?”