SLOW BURN

by Christie, Nicole

  Finally, I get her to Kiss n Tell. She happily peruses the displays of bras and panties, looking for the perfect set for me. Since I do most of my underwear shopping in the comfort-over-style section, I let her have free reign. Johnny’s seen my plain underwear before, and though he’s never complained, I want to surprise him with something hot tonight. I trust Heather to find something that will look good on me.

  I’m so nervous! I’ve gone to pee three times since we got here, and my bladder still feels uncomfortably full. Am I really going through with this? Look, I’m no innocent maiden, but technically, I am a virgin. Johnny and I have done…stuff. I mean he’s very good with his hands, but—

  “I’m thinking of getting my tongue pierced,” Heather says out of the blue, snapping me out of my dirty daydreams.

  “Your parents would freak,” I reply immediately. Mr. and Mrs. Jones are pretty conservative, and dote on their only daughter. “Remember the time you put that purple streak in your hair?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you would think I murdered a puppy. If I ever told them that I like girls, they’d probably have Father Dan perform an exorcism. Oh, hey, this would look great on you—try it on.”

  She holds out a sparkly pink push-up bra embellished with rhinestones, with matching garters, and a lacey thong.

  I flinch away, like it’s going to bite me. “Garters?” I hiss, looking around. “Really?”

  “Hell, yes, garters. They’re sexy!”

  “I can’t wear this,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Just try it on.” Heather pushes them at me.

  “Come with me, then,” I beg.

  No, I’m not worried about getting naked in front of my lesbian friend. We’ve known each other since the eighth grade, and she’s like a sister to me. Besides, I happen to know her type, and I’m not it.

  “How does it…?” I gesture to the garters as I stare critically at my reflection in the changing room mirror.

  “They attach to thigh high stockings,” Heather says. She takes a step back and looks me up and down. “Very hot. You should definitely get it. But that can’t be your only set. I’m gonna go find you a few more things to try on. Be right back.”

  Before I can stop her, she opens the door—wide—and saunters out. Before she shuts it behind her, I can distinctly see a guy waiting at the entrance of the changing rooms, craning his neck at an unnatural angle to gawk at me. I jump forward, and slam the door shut.

  Sighing, I stare at my reflection again. Okay, well…I guess it’s sexy.

  I’m not self-conscious about my looks. Enough people have told me that I’m pretty, that I’d have to believe it—or be deliberately obtuse. But I also realize that I’m far from the most attractive thing out there. Basically, I’m pretty enough to get hit on by guys, but not enough to be seen as a threat by the most popular girls at my school. Which is okay by me.

  I’ve been told I look like a living doll, with my big cat-shaped dark eyes, little nose, and big pouty lips. Johnny calls me Teeny for a reason—I’m only 5’3” with a slight build that I like to whimsically describe as wood nymph-ish—but others call scrawny. I know I look deceivingly delicate and fragile, but I’m actually pretty strong. I enjoy playing sports, and I’ve got these bony knuckles—I pack a mean punch.

  Okay, I lied when I said I wasn’t self-conscious about my looks. If there’s one thing…it’s my head. It’s big. Like, I’m pretty sure I resemble a lollipop at times. My mother told me that when I was a baby, my height and weight were in the fifteenth percentile, but my head was in the ninety-fifth! Nothing was wrong with me—they monitored my growth, and it turned out I just had a giant melon. I wasn’t self-conscious about it until she told me that story—then I looked in the mirror and—gack! Pumpkin head!

  I used to wear hats, because I thought it would cover up my deformity, but it wasn’t until Heather finally told me that they only brought attention to my big head that I realized my mistake. So, now, I just keep my blonde hair straight and down to my butt, hoping to cover up my insecurity with a whole lot of hair. People don’t even really notice until I point it out, then they’re like, “No, your head’s perfectly…oh.” And then they trail off because they can see what I’m saying. I guess the big head contributes to my doll-like appearance, but damn, some days I feel like a member of the lollipop guild.

  “Grooming issues,” Heather says absently after I’ve dressed and joined her at the display of bras.

  “What about them?”

  “Are you going to shave it?” she asks, point blank. “I mean, it’s fine now, but if you want to go for the wow factor, maybe you should consider the—”

  “No!” I say hastily. “Can you hold this? I have to go find a bathroom again.”

  She shakes her head. “Shouldn’t have drank all that lemonade.”

  “Yup.”

  I throw my lingerie over her arm, and scurry out to find a restroom. I hate my nervous bladder.

  Afterwards, I start walking, so preoccupied with my thoughts that I don’t realize I’ve passed the store a while back. I turn abruptly—and smack right into a solid chest.

  Strong arms reach out to steady me. “Whoa, you okay?” a familiar male voice asks, sounding amused.

  “I’m sorry!” I gasp. Then I look up at an adorable face with twinkling blue eyes. “Rob!”

  “Hey, there, Juliet. It’s been a while.” Heather’s auburn haired brother greets me with a smile.

  “Yeah.” I laugh self-consciously, untangling myself from his arms. “How are you? How’s college life treating you?”

  “Good, and good.” He runs a hand through his hair and gives me a quick scan from head to foot. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

  “I’m doing good,” I say inanely. I gesture at nothing. “I’m here with Heather. We’ve been shopping.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, that sounds like my sister. So, where is she? I’d like to say hi.”

  “Oh, she’s in…uh…” I fumble with my words, my cheeks heating slightly. “She’s in that store…down there. You can walk with me, if you want.”

  “I want,” he says, and falls into step beside me. He waits a beat, then turns to me. “So, you’re looking good. Are you still seeing that guy? Ron, or whatever his name is?”

  I glance at him, surprised that he even knew I was dating someone. “His name is Johnny, and yeah, we’re still together. What about you? Are you breaking hearts left and right at UCLA?”

  He smiles bashfully and shrugs. “Nah, I’m too busy studying my ass off these days. It doesn’t leave me much time for socializing. This is the first time I’ve been home since the Fourth of July.”

  “They’re really cracking the whip, huh?” I struggle to keep up with his lanky gait. “So when did you get back into town? Heather didn’t mention you were at home.”

  Rob notices me scurrying along, and immediately slows down. “I’m actually staying with friends,” he confesses. “I was going to drop by tomorrow to see the family. So, uh, do you guys have any plans tonight?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to a party at my boyfriend’s. You’re welcome to come,” I offer, tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear.

  He shoots me a quick glance. “Nah, I think I’ll pass. Thanks for the invite, though. Hey, I wanted to ask you…”

  “This is the store.” I stop abruptly in front of Kiss n Tell and its neon pink display window full of bras and panties.

  Rob blinks twice, then his face darkens. “Heather’s shopping for lingerie?” he mutters, and strides right in.

  Yeah, Rob doesn’t know Heather prefers girls over guys, so his big brother instinct is in high gear. I’m sure he thinks his little sister is buying sexy underwear for some guy he is duty bound to crush. I have to warn her.

  Heather sees me before she sees him. Her arms full of lacy lingerie, she starts over to me. “Jule, how do you feel about crotchless panties?” she jokes, laughing. “Johnny would be so shocked if you…”

 
; She trails off as her gaze passes over, then locks on Rob standing behind me. “Rob!” she shouts happily, bounding forward to give him a hug, mindless of all the lingerie she’s carrying.

  Heather is completely oblivious to Rob’s discomfort. How nice straitlaced Rob ended up related to someone as free and uninhibited as Heather is a genetic mystery.

  Heather prattles on and on while Rob picks thongs off of his shirt. He turns slightly, and I notice a hot pink pair clinging to his back. I wonder if I should tell him?

  “Hey, Jule, go try this on,” Heather says suddenly, tossing a sheer black teddy at me. Then she turns back to Rob. “Since you’re here, you can give us a guy’s perspective. Juliet plans on losing her V card tonight, so—”

  “Heather!” I growl through compressed lips. “Shut up!” I force a smile to my lips when I look at her brother. “She’s kidding, Rob. I don’t even—who wears stuff like this, anyway?” I make a noise like a deflating balloon, and toss the teddy over my shoulder.

  “I do,” Heather says, finally taking the hint. “This is all for me. In fact, I’m going to go pay for it now. Hey, Jule, I can borrow some money, right?”

  Gritting my teeth, I dig into my purse for my debit card. “Of course.”

  Rob frowns disapprovingly down at her. “And why do you need to wear this crap, Heather?”

  Heather waves her hand around dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on any guy ever seeing me in it,” she says airily. “Just knowing I have it on makes me feel pretty, you know?”

  “No,” he says, and shudders profoundly.

  Heather goes to pay for the lacy garments, and Rob asks me if we’d like to get something to eat at the food court. I agree, and after my best friend makes me a hundred and thirty dollars poorer, we all stroll over to Boppy’s for some ice cream.

  It’s nice catching up with Rob. I haven’t seen him in forever—and even though a glob of ice cream drips down my chin, which he laughingly wipes off for me—we have a good time reminiscing about the trouble Heather and I got into as adventurous preteens.

  I get so caught up in memories, I don’t even notice the time until I happen to glance at Rob’s sporty watch. “Crap!” I blurt out. “It’s late! We’ve got to go home and get ready for the party.”

  Again, I invite Rob to come with us, but he declines. Before we part ways, he asks if he can have my number so we can keep in touch. While I’m programming his number into my phone, Heather gives me an owlish look. It’s so creepy that I have to laugh, and mouth, “What?” at her. She just shakes her head.

  “I wasn’t even thinking,” I say as head toward the exit. “The game must be over by now. I wonder if they won?” I check my phone for updates from the guys, but there’s nothing recent.

  “Either way works in your favor,” Heather says with a shrug. “If they won, y’all can celebrate with your vajayjay. If they lost—well, same deal.”

  “That’s absolutely disgusting,” I say. “I could, like, attach streamers and balloons to it.”

  “You could vajazzle it,” Heather says with a straight face. “Like, with pink rhinestones shaped in an arrow, pointing downwards. No, seriously, I’ve seen it—it’s so hot!”

  “I would never vajazzle it.” I wrinkle my nose. “Who does that?”

  Of course while talking about this, we run into someone I know. Arianna, the girlfriend of Ben—one of Johnny’s friends. We’ve been to the movies a few times with them. I really don’t know her that well, since she completely ignored me both times.

  It almost looks like she’s going to walk right past us—and I know she saw me. She’s got a strange furtive look on her pretty face. Her gaze falls on me, then quickly darts away.

  “Hey, Arianna,” I say unenthusiastically. “Do you know who won tonight?”

  She barely looks at me. “We did,” she mutters without stopping. She walks right past us.

  “Okay, thanks. Nice talking to you,” I call after her. She doesn’t look back.

  Heather turns around to watch her go. “Who was that? She’s cute.”

  I shake my head. “Let’s get out of here.”

  On the way back to my house, Heather receives a text that makes her go, “Uh-oh.”

  “What?” I turn to her warily.

  “My mom found my stash of dirty clothes—the ones I’ve been hiding when it’s my turn to do laundry.” She frowns down at her phone when it beeps again. “I’ve been throwing them up on that shelf in the garage—you know, the one that we put the camping stuff that we never use? Well, she climbed up there to get the cooler down, and apparently she got buried under an avalanche of dirty clothes. I’m in huge trouble. I have to go home, like, now and do all those loads.”

  “What—no! Heather!” I whine. “You can’t miss the party. I need you there for moral support.”

  “Oh, you’ll be fine,” she says optimistically. “Just let nature take its course.”

  “Let nature take its course? What kind of advice is that? I’m not a meerkat,” I snap.

  She giggles “What made you think of meerkats?”

  “I don’t know, there was a special on the Discovery Channel the other night. You have to come! You’re going.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Please!” I sigh. “It’s a big moment in my life.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” she says, keeping her eyes on the road. “Don’t you play the guilt card with me, Juliet Somers. Not after you abandon me senior year to go to your boyfriend’s school.”

  “I had to. We never see each other, what with work and football practice, and me always going to my dad’s on the weekend…”

  “I know,” Heather says comfortingly. “I wasn’t serious. Look, you’ll be fine. Put on your sexy new underwear and rock Johnny’s world!”

  I sink down in my seat, crushing my shopping bags against me. “I hate parties. I’ll hardly know anyone there.”

  She shoots me a sly look. “You know Dean.”

  “Ugh,” I groan, putting a bag over my face. “Don’t remind me.”

  She laughs. “Have either of you even told Johnny about your sordid past?”

  “No, it’s ancient history—and not that big of a deal. I hardly see Dean, anyway, and when I do, he just kinda ignores me. Which is totally fine by me.”

  Heather pulls haphazardly into my driveway. “Don’t worry, Jule, I’m sure tonight will end up being one of the most memorable nights of your life. And if it does work out with Johnny—sexually, that is—there’s always room on my team’s bench for you.”

  “Oh, go vajazzle yourself,” I mutter, opening the car door.

  ******

  Chapter 3

  I text Johnny a quick congratulations before I start getting ready. When he doesn’t text me back, I hop in the shower. I take a long hot one, letting the water spray me in the face. I make sure to shave carefully, and I scrub myself vigorously with my pink sugar body wash. I wash my hair as well, weirdly paranoid that it smells like popcorn.

  When I’m done, I wrap my towel around me, and check my phone. Nothing yet from Johnny. He’s probably busy celebrating with his teammates, and getting ready for the party. I shrug to myself and pad into my bedroom to get dressed.

  I put on the sparkly pink set, but ditch the garters…I’d feel silly in them. I slip on a form-fitting black V neck shirt and my favorite pair of jeans, do my hair up in a sloppy ponytail, and slap on some makeup. I know, I should make more of an effort, but I’m nervous enough as it is, so I’m dressing for comfort. Well, the outside at least. I kinda hate thongs.

  I check my phone again. Still nothing from Johnny, so I decide to call him. It rings and rings, and just when I think I’m going to get put through to his voice mail, he answers.

  “Yeah?” he says. He sounds distracted.

  “Hey, you,” I say, unsettled by the tone of his voice. “Uh, I heard you guys won. Congratulations!”

  There is a short, but distinct pause. “Thanks,” he says finally. What’
s with him? Is he drunk already?

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “So, I’m going to be a little late for the party, but I’ll see you there. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Click.

  What the hell? Why is he in a pissy mood—they won, right? I can’t believe he hung up on me.

  Shoot, I should have asked him for a ride.

  I tap my fingers on my leg, thinking. I have a car, but I don’t drive once the sun goes down—I have terrible night vision, as well as this weird phobia about driving in the dark. I could call a cab, I guess, but I don’t really want to spend more money than I already did today. It’s not like I’m rolling in dough, not like some people.

  Maybe I shouldn’t go, if he’s got his panties in a wad. Then my shoulders fall. No, I promised him I would. I’d been dodging parties for long enough. It was time I start making an effort. Part of being Johnny’s girlfriend is socializing with all of his friends, and I need to stop making excuses not to.

  Speaking of his friends…

  I flip through my contacts for Nick’s number. Maybe I can catch him before he leaves for the party. Like Heather, Nick is late for everything. I cross my fingers and tap his name on the screen.

  “What up, Juliet?” Nick cheerfully answers.

  “Hey, Nick,” I greet, smiling at the sound of his voice. “Congratulations on the game tonight. Did you guys stomp Crawville?”

  “21-0,” he says with a chuckle. “They put up a good fight, though. So, you gonna party with me tonight?”

  “That’s kinda why I called,” I admit. “I hate to ask you this, but do you think you could give me a ride? If you’re not—”

  “Sure,” Nick agrees instantly. “In fact, I’m already on your side of town. Are you ready right now? I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “That would be perfect,” I say, relieved. “Thanks so much, Nick.”

  “My pleasure. See you soon.”

  Well, that was easy. I’ve only met a few of Johnny’s friends, and Nick is one of the ones I really like. It’s hard not to like him, with his easy, laid-back personality and little boy enthusiasm. Nick is in Johnny’s close circle of friends, and one of the only ones he trusts with me.