Love's Spark

by L A Cotton

“And what? Keefer’s mine. He'll come around. Just wait and see.”

  With that, they both left me standing rooted to the spot, hardly able to breathe.

  My phone vibrated again, pulling me from my thoughts.

  Keefer: See you next week.

  Keefer had reassured me that there was nothing going on with them, but still, the girl had it bad and I knew those types. I used to be one. I threw a hand across my eyes. Why did guys have to make things so difficult? His message didn't suggest any more contact until the next session, which meant far too much time to overanalyze the situation.

  ~

  The sunlight peeked through my blinds rousing me from a light sleep. I'd already snoozed my alarm twice. Getting up early for school was something my body refused to accommodate, even after almost eight months at the school. Five minutes longer and I'd be rushing to get ready. I almost turned back over, but the flashing light on my cell caught my eye. One new message.

  Keefer: Can't stop thinking about you.

  I smiled at the message, time stamped late last night. He’d been thinking about me while out with his friends. Today was already looking up…until I heard the banging downstairs. I grabbed my robe and shoved my feet in my fluffy pink slippers.

  Rounding the corner to the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. “Dad, what are you doing?”

  I watched through sleepy eyes, as Dad—complete with apron and gloves—scrubbed the kitchen tiles on his hands and knees. “Oh, hi, sweetie. Got to get the house all cleaned up.” He dipped the brush back into the bucket of water and slapped it down on the floor, suds going everywhere.

  “Oh.”

  “Come on, Sharn. I know that it’s not going to be easy, but fresh start?”

  I forced a smile. “Sure, Dad, I’ll leave you to your cleaning. I’m going to be late for school if I don’t get a move on.”

  After grabbing a banana and juice carton out of the fridge, I headed back to my room. My happy mood had dampened at the sight of Dad preparing the house for sale.

  ~

  “What's going on with you? You seem different.”

  I stirred my macchiato. “Different?”

  Mae flopped down next to me, watching me intently. “Yes, something’s different. You're smiling, for one. But it's more, like your aura's all shiny and happy.”

  I sprayed hot liquid into the air. “You think I have a happy aura? Seriously, Mae.”

  She bit into her sub and shrugged. “I can only tell you what I see.”

  Mae was a little strange at times. A hippy at heart—into auras and chakras and all that hocus pocus bullshit. “So...” She looked at me expectantly.

  “I'm just being me.”

  “You're hiding something, Sharn Macer. Is there a guy? I bet there's a guy.” Her face cracked a huge grin.

  As if on cue, my phone vibrated on top of the pile of books. One new message. My heart fluttered as I reached over and pressed open.

  Keefer: Tuesday is too far off. You free tomorrow after work?

  “Is that mystery guy? Your aura just changed to pinky, red. The colors of lust, desire... and love,” she chimed, and I rolled my eyes at her crazy talk, typing out a reply.

  Me: I’m free

  Keefer: I’ll pick you up at seven. Text your address to me.

  He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t do small talk. I texted him my address and returned my attention to Mae, who was watching me like a woman possessed. “So, who is he?”

  “Just a guy.”

  “Fine. Keep me guessing. It’s a good thing Phil’s home more often so I don’t need to get my guy fix through you.”

  A quick glance at my watch informed me that there were over thirty hours to wait until Keefer picked me up—so much for taking a break from dating.

  ~

  It was the third time I’d changed. Keefer would be here any minute and I was still deciding what to wear. He’d given nothing up about where we were going or what we were doing, so I opted to go with one of my failsafe outfits. The black pants with a pale pink blouse looked too formal. The knee-length skirt with the fitted turquoise tank felt more first-date-with-Keefer, but after staring at my reflection for about ten minutes, I decided against it. In the end, I stuck with skinny jeans, mid-heeled pumps, and a white lacy shirt. My favorite belt cinched my waist and a cluster of bracelets lined my arm—it was chic but flirty.

  I heard the rumble of his truck and watched from my window as he climbed out and walked up the driveway. He looked fine in his light cargos, black crew neck shirt, and sneakers. The shirt hugged his chest and well-defined arms, and dirty blond hair peeked out from under his black Yankees cap. It occurred to me that I’d never seen him without a damn cap pulled over his head. He looked good, but I looked so overdressed that I wanted to go and change for the fourth time. But the doorbell rang. Butterflies stirred in my stomach, and it hit me, this was the first time—in a long time—that I’d felt nervous about a first date.

  “Hi.” I’d hardly pulled open the door and the words came tumbling out.

  His eyes swept down my body and he smiled. “Hi. You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Thankfully, Dad and Russ were both out, so I didn’t have to worry about them embarrassing me. I locked the door behind me, and Keefer grabbed my hand and pulled me down the drive toward his truck. “I hope you like the movies?”

  He was taking me to the theater? Not quite what I was used to, but I just smiled and nodded. “Are we going to the Hippodrome?”

  He backed out of the driveway and pulled forward. “No, I don’t really like the theater.” He leaned forward to turn on the radio.

  Was he for real? He didn’t like the theater but was taking me to see a movie? He was definitely a puzzle that I’d yet to solve.

  We drove in silence for the next fifteen minutes. It wasn’t awkward, just a little weird. Every now and then, I’d catch his eyes on me instead of the road. And when he turned off the main highway onto a dirt road, I panicked a little. It was dark and poorly lit. “Keefer, where are we going?”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll see.”

  I focused on the vast black space in front of us. My eyes adjusted, and up in the distance, lights came into focus; like rows of cars parked but still running. After a couple more minutes, I recognized the outline of a huge movie screen and it clicked. He’d brought me to a drive-in.

  “I didn’t even know Gainesville had once of these.”

  “Not many people do. It’s a local secret, of sorts. They only play once a month.”

  A man waved us to a halt, and Keefer lowered his window, exchanging a twenty for a ticket. He drove further into the area, pulled the truck into a row, and cut the engine. There had to be thirty cars all lined up in three curved lines, facing the screen, which was playing an old black and white theater ad. There was a small booth selling drinks, popcorn out of an old-fashioned machine, and hot dogs.

  “This is…wow. I’ve never been to anything like this.”

  “It’s pretty cool. I’ve been a few times. The theater gets too crowded. I like being able to sit in my truck.”

  He was totally serious, and I realized I still knew nothing about him. The little pieces that he revealed about himself were not helping to put together the much larger and more complex Keefer-puzzle.

  “Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t know.”

  He turned to face me, a serious expression etched on his face. “We need popcorn and sodas. I’ll go grab us some.” He jumped down from the truck and headed over to the booth. Not only did Keefer avoid small talk, it seemed that he also dodged talking about himself.

  “Here.” He opened his door, holding popcorn and Coke, climbed back into the cab, and started messing with his seat. Once he’d reclined his back, he started on mine. “Lay back.” His breath tickled the crook of my neck and I shuddered. “Tell me when it’s comfy.”

  I sank back into the seat. “Perfect.”

  The s
creen went black and the opening credits started. He balanced the popcorn between our seats, grabbed my hand, placing it in his, and focused on the screen. Talking was definitely not on the agenda.

  An hour into the film, I was struggling to keep up. I’d heard Safe House was Denzel Washington’s latest big hit, but I was confused as hell. Keefer seemed engrossed, and apart from the odd handful of popcorn, he remained solely focused on the film. I was a little bored. Bringing me to somewhere he liked to go seemed like a nice gesture at first, but now it just seemed like an excuse to avoid conversation. If it weren't for his thumb gently caressing the soft skin between my thumb and forefinger, it would have been easy to forget we were on a date at all.

  The screen paused and faded into a black background with the word intermission printed in white at the dead center. Keefer sat up, stretching his arms in front of him. “What do you think?”

  “Umm, yeah. It’s okay.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re bored, aren’t you? Shit.” He ripped off his cap and pulled at his messy blond hair. “This was a bad idea.”

  He looked so disappointed that guilt flooded me. “Hey, no, I’m fine. I’m glad you brought me here. Really.”

  “You want anything else to eat or drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

  Keefer leaned back into his seat and outstretched his hands. “There’s always a fifteen-minute break.”

  The stilted conversation was awkward, and so not how I imagined things going.

  “So, we have fifteen minutes to talk?” I smiled, only being half-serious, but Keefer’s face paled a little.

  “Hmm, what do you want to talk about?”

  “It’s a date, isn’t it? We’re meant to get to know each other.”

  His eyes sparked, and he closed the distance between us, so that his nose was aligned to mine. “I have a better idea.” He touched his lips to mine, so slowly that it was almost painful. His movements were cautious and precise, as if he were making sure that I was okay with it, and the moment his tongue gently licked my lower lip, I quivered. “Keef-”

  I knew he was trying to distract me—avoiding conversation, again. But when he parted my lips with his own, demanding entry, I forgot everything. Keefer’s hands clamped around my waist and before I knew it, he’d pulled me across the cab onto his lap. I readjusted my legs so that I was straddling him, and my hands reached for his cap, pulling it off and dropping it to the side of us. My fingers stroked his hair away from his face as he stared at me, a look of awe in his eyes.

  “What?”

  “You. Are. Gorgeous.”

  Our lips crashed together and he tightened his hold on me. He hardened beneath me, pressing into me as I sat above him. He broke our kiss but only to trail his tongue and lips along my jaw and neck. The sensation caused me to shiver and a breathy moan escaped my lips.

  “Fuck. Don't make that noise again. It drives me insane.”

  “Keefer...” I was stunned. We couldn't hold a serious conversation, but when we kissed, we lost all control.

  “Less talking, more kissing.” He loosened one of his hands from my waist and brought it to my face, stroking his finger down my cheek and across my jaw, then wound it around one of my stray curls and gently pulled. “More kissing.” His lips feathered mine and his finger released my hair and splayed out onto my neck, my skin burning under his touch.

  The bright lights of the movie starting again caused me to jump, which caused Keefer to groan, and not in a good way.

  “Oh damn, sorry. Are you okay?” I couldn't help but laugh, as he cursed under his breath. “I think the moment’s over.”

  He helped me wriggle back to my seat and we settled in to watch the rest of the film. All I could think about was his lips on mine.

  After driving me home, Keefer had walked me to my door and kissed me goodnight. It wasn't like the kiss in the truck at the drive-in; hungry and desperate. No, it was more chaste and careful. Like, he was scared to kiss me in public—or outside my door. But I hadn't even removed my make-up and brushed my teeth before my phone vibrated.

  Keefer: Goodnight. Dream of me.

  Coming from anyone else, it would have sounded incredibly cheesy, but from Keefer, it was sweet. He was never going to be the roses and chocolate type, but when he said something, you knew that he meant it one-hundred percent.

  After pulling on my tatty shorts and tank, I flopped onto my bed and stared at my phone thinking of the perfect reply. I didn't want to seem too eager, but I wanted him to know how much I liked him.

  Me: Thanks for tonight. The film was a C- but everything else was a solid A+

  I hoped he'd get my teacher reference, or I'd come off sounding like a complete weirdo for grading his efforts.

  It sucked that he was going to be out of town for the weekend. Of course, he hadn't given me any details other than that he would be gone Friday night through Sunday. He said he'd try and text but it might be difficult. Just what I needed. A whole weekend of obsessing over what he was doing…And who with.

  ~

  When Tuesday finally arrived, I was like a child on Christmas morning. The weekend had dragged. Dad roped me into cleaning and organizing, and as Russ was still out of town, I was the only one to help with the tedious task. Keefer only texted once. A single text that just said 'I miss you.' It was nice, but damn, he knew how to keep a girl guessing. I'd managed to refrain from texting him the million questions in my head. Where was he? Who was he with? Why didn't he tell me? It went against my nature of wanting to know everything!

  A knock on my classroom door startled me.

  “Hey, girl. Just dropping in to say bye before I head out. You've been quiet today. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything's fine. Thanks, Mae. Listen, I can't do drinks this Friday, but definitely the one following?” It was a little presumptuous, but I was hoping Keefer might want to do something.

  She smiled and nodded. “Cool. Phil's home this weekend, anyway. See ya.”

  I watched the small hand move painfully slow around the clock face. Sixth period had been canceled today due to the career fair, so I'd spent the last hour trying to distract myself with grading and planning. It wasn't working. All I could think about was Keefer. Keefer, Keefer, Keefer. I was addicted and I knew I was falling—fast. My heart just hoped the feeling was mutual, but when he looked at me, I felt sure it was.

  When the bell finally rang, I jumped out of my seat, ran my hands through my loose curls, and applied a quick coat of gloss to my lips. Keefer Smith was about to find out what he'd been missing all weekend.

  He was talking to the boys when I strolled out onto the field. His eyes spotted me and I didn't miss the slight bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped, before turning his attention back to the boys. I joined the huddle, next to Keylon. Keefer was right, he did seem happier, but I was still worried about him.

  As the boys separated into their teams and took their positions on the field, Keefer walked up to me. He didn't say anything, just smiled and bent down to pick up the gloves to the side of me. His hair brushed my arm, causing my hairs to stand to attention, and when he pulled back up, he whispered in my ear, “I missed you.”

  His movements were so fluid that I doubted anyone would have noticed the moment passing between us. But my body did. All my nerve endings shuddered at his words and desire pooled in low my stomach.

  That was how the next two hours continued. At every opportunity, we'd touch each other discreetly or flirt through whispers. I even joined in the game, and as he helped correct my batter's stance, I pushed my body flush with his. His tall frame enveloped me, and I loved the feel of being next to him. To the boys, it just looked like he was coaching me, but they didn't see his fingers softly caress my skin, or hear him tell me how good I looked. The sexual tension between us was agonizing and all I wanted was for him to kiss me. But with seventeen ninth graders watching our every move, we’d just have to wait.

  Chapter 14

  ~ Kee
fer ~

  “Dude, what is up with you? You seem restless.” Zac handed me another beer, and I took a long pull and shrugged.

  He shook his head and said, “Sharn is all kinds of screwing with your head.”

  “Don't.” I shot him a warning glare.

  “You should see yourself. So, come on, fill me in.”

  “Coaching was torture. She turned up in a tight little yoga suit, throwing her come-to-bed eyes at me every chance that she got. I swear, man, I almost dragged her behind the bleachers like some horny high schooler.”

  Zac let out a hysterical laugh. I was glad he found it amusing because I sure as shit didn’t. “I would've paid to see that shit. I still can't believe you took her to Perry Lane Drive-In and made out in your truck. That was my senior year move!”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. He was right; what had happened to me? “I can't get her out of my mind. But she's always asking questions and wanting to talk.”

  “Chicks are all the same. They need to analyze everything, know everything. You're going to have to tell her about your old man eventually, though.”

  I stared at the bottle. Zac was right. I couldn't keep kissing her senseless every time she asked about me. She already seemed onto my plan of distraction. “I know, man, I know.”

  “Oh shit, twelve o’clock, Aubrey and Simmy just walked in.”

  “Fuck.” I didn't turn around to watch them walk over to us, but Zac’s eyes followed Aubrey until she reached our booth near the pool table.

  “Hi, baby. We didn't know you guys were going to be here.”

  Simmy slid into the booth next to me and looked up at me through her fake lashes. “Hey, Keef.”

  Her voice grated on me like nails on a blackboard. She wasn't discreet when she pushed her tits closer to me, purring at me like a strangled cat. “Haven't seen you around for a couple of weeks.”

  “I've been busy.” I refused to meet her eyes, instead focusing on Zac, who was mauling Aubrey. Seriously, the dude had no standards.