Wilson Mooney, Almost Eighteen

by Gretchen de La O

  “Appreciate the beers, nice party, but I gotta go; getting up early to hit the slopes. Thanks, man.” I heard Max tell Nick. Their hands clasped into a firm handshake and Nick mumbled something back to him. I could feel Max’s energy behind me as I walked down the hall. I wanted to look back so bad, see if he was following me. A ball of anticipation spiraled in the back of my throat. I felt him hurry to catch up.

  “Wilson, wait up. Are you going home? I could give you a ride.” He stopped me on the balcony between the staircases that circled down to the entry. He scratched at his head, pushed his hair away from his eyes, and shoved his hands in his pockets, glimpsing to see my reaction. He can’t do that to me. How am I supposed to concentrate on his question? He continued talking, “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea, you driving after having some drinks.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cindy below. I swallowed real hard, cleared my mind, and grabbed his arm.

  “Mr. Gol—Max, there is something I’ve gotta tell you.” I dragged him to the door across the hall. I didn’t know if it was a closet or what; I didn’t care. Well, truthfully, I wouldn’t have been able to handle being in a closet with him, being that close, smelling him. My head swam just thinking about it. Fortunately, it was a super-humungous bathroom. I pushed him in and locked the door. Fifty people could hang out in this bathroom and there still would be room enough for a dance floor. Four sinks across the wall, each with its own heated towel rack. An oversized leather sofa like one you would normally find in a person’s living room sat across from the sinks. There was a door separating us from a bathtub—one the size of a Smartcar—and the rest of the bathroom.

  I paced back and forth, not knowing how to start. How was I going to tell him something that could potentially screw up the rest of my senior year with him at Wesley? The back of my head tingled with pins and needles and my hands were damp with perspiration. I could feel the blood drain from my face as I looked him in the eyes. Damn, this was going to be harder than I thought. What a disaster! Alone with him in a locked room, I could think of so many other things I wanted to do. Instead, I was stuck with being the killjoy.

  “Mr. Mmm—Max,”

  “Yeah? You okay? Something you wanna tell me?” he asked as he grabbed at my elbows and looked into my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t look at me like a teacher checking on the well-being of his student. There was something more dynamic between us than that. He looked at me like he was waiting for me to say something he already knew. Urges swelled in my abdomen. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. Maybe I should see where this moment was going before I busted out with a total deal-breaker. But of course, being who I was, I just blurted it out.

  “Cindy’s going to blackmail you for an A in your class.”

  “Wait. What? Blackmail me for what?” His stare prodded past my menial thoughts.

  “She’s going to use tonight. She’s going to say that you were drinking with some of your students.” His hands dropped heavy from my elbows. He looked down.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.

  “Me, too.” I watched his hair cascade down toward the front of his expression. He seemed disappointed more than scared.

  “I’m just glad she doesn’t know.” The words forced their way through my lips. I could have sworn I thought them in my head. But of course that wouldn’t have been normal for me. The person who can’t seem to keep her mouth shut. No, I said it out loud and he heard it.

  “She doesn’t know what?” His eyes narrowed when he looked at me. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. What was I going to say? If I told him that I have a massive crush on him teetering on the edge of obsession, he could totally break my heart and laugh in my face. But if I didn’t say anything, and later found out he felt the same way, I couldn’t live with those consequences. I had to face the fact: I was like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car, ready to turn me into road kill. So I figured if I went down the middle of the road, following the solid yellow lines, there would be a chance he would swerve and I could see what his intentions were; just as long as I didn’t trip over one of those damn yellow reflectors.

  “Who—knows what?” I played completely confused; even went so far as to flip my hair back off my shoulders. It didn’t work.

  Or maybe it did…

  He caught my chin between his thumb and index finger and guided my head to look up into his eyes. Frickin’ hit me with the speeding car, now. Take away my intense craving to force myself against him and taste his lips. I was shuddering inside. This was it, he was touching my face and he smelled so delicious. I felt the gravitational pull between us and I could swear his face was moving closer to mine. Alright, the fact that our first kiss was going to happen in a bathroom wasn’t too glamorous. That was a given. But I had to admit, it wouldn’t matter to me if we were in a horse’s stable surrounded by the stench of horse sweat. He was coming in to lay claim, and I couldn’t wait. I wet my lips, anticipating in a matter of seconds we would be full-on making out. I closed my eyes, knowing that I was going to feel his kiss.

  His hair brushed the edge of my lip and across my cheek. His nose pushed delicate against my hair as he exhaled; his breath tickled, heating the curves on my ear.

  “Wilson,” he whispered; I melted, “What is it that Cindy doesn’t know?”

  My eyes snapped open.

  What the hell was this? This couldn’t be happening. Here I was, jonesing to kiss him, and he was still concerned with who said what. Why couldn’t I have kept my big mouth shut? My whole life, I’ve never possessed the ability to keep my inner monologue internal. Nothing new, but now the fallibility of keeping my private thoughts private screwed up my immediate future. Motivated by six little words that escaped my mouth, he teased me into playing a game. I was forced to call his bluff. I had to know if he was all in.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I breathed softly, pushing my lips to his ear. Chills rampaged through my body as I felt him take a breath and exhale across my neck.

  “I would.”

  As long as I didn’t see his eyes, I could still play. Nerves wrapped around my insecurities and crushed them to dust.

  “What are you willing to do to find out?” I heard the words float around his ear. It was like someone else said them, until I realized it was my lips that were moving.

  He held his breath, I stopped moving. My heart sank down to my gut. I think I’d stepped over the invisible delicate line that was supposed to be drawn between us. His chest rose inhaling with what he was going to say. He pressed soft against my ear.

  “I’d better go.” He pulled away and never looked back at me as the door slammed shut behind him.

  I flung my body down on the leather sofa. I frickin’ knew it. That was me, couldn’t ever seem to say the right thing at the perfect time. Abandoned in a bathroom and too bummed to leave, I closed my eyes and lay there for a long moment. I couldn’t even bring myself to have a self-induced daydream about him. Why didn’t I just throw my arms around him and plant a huge kiss on him? Maybe one more drink would have given me the confidence to do that.

  Then again, with one more drink I could have done the walk of shame to the porcelain god and I haven’t hugged him since my junior year when Joanie kept having me suck down martinis at her father’s country club. I don’t think I will ever drink another martini for as long as I live. Not only were we escorted out and asked never to return, but we were blacklisted at the ripe, young age of seventeen. It was totally stupid, and yet completely epic. Especially when Joanie’s dad came home with the bar tab; who would’ve thought eight drinks would have cost over ninety-five dollars?

  I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and chime with a message. It was from Joanie.

  WTF? U NEVR TXT ME! DID U GET THER SAF? MR. G THER?? CALL ME ASAP!

  I texted her back, SORRY J- SAFE- WIL CAL 2MARO RELLY TIRED. C U. I didn’t feel like going over what had just happened. I pushed the phone back into my pocket.

  I felt a paper
catch under my fingernail. I didn’t remember putting anything in my pocket with my phone. I pulled it out. It was a yellow sticky note folded in half. There was nothing written on the outside of it. The sticky side was matched perfectly with the other, so it was hard to open. I pulled it apart and read what it said.

  Matt Gladstone 925-555-2129

  CALL ME TONIGHT 11:30

  Holy Shit! WTF? My head spun so fast, I thought my eyes were actually moving in circles. When did he put this in my pocket? I never felt him do it. I should have felt it if someone was trying to get into my pants. I thought back to the bathroom at Wesley and how I’d flushed the last note he’d given me. I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. Come on, Wilson, pull your head out and wake up to the world of forbidden love. He called himself Matt as a cover. I should’ve been able to figure that one out. Wait, this means…he likes me. He wants me to call him. What time is it? I looked at the wall above the sofa; there was a huge clock above my head. Eleven twenty-eight; crazy, I didn’t see it before. I had two minutes to think about how to start a conversation. I played with the words that danced in my head.

  Hi, Mr. Goldstein. Hey, Max. Hi sexy, what’s up? Skiing tomorrow? What do you think about all this snow? Want to kiss me? ’Cuz I want to kiss you. Sure, I’ll meet you. What? You want to be my boyfriend?

  I looked up to the clock, it was 11:30. My heart dropped into my stomach. It was time for me to call him. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed his number. I pressed send and sat on the sofa in the massive waiting area of the bathroom. One ring, two, then three…finally, on the fourth ring, he answered it.

  “Hi, this is Max, please leave a message.” Then there was a beep. I froze. What was I going to say? After a pretty significant pause, my phone chimed—call waiting; it was Max.

  At least I get to say “hi” first; sometimes it was easier being the one to receive the call. Then the other person has to drive the conversation.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Wilson?” his voice filled my head and made a beeline to my heart.

  “Yeah?”

  “I just wanted to see if you were—okay. Are you?” His voice carried across my chest and down to feed the hungry butterflies filling my stomach.

  “Yeah.”

  “I wanted to thank you about Cindy,” his tone was so sexy on the phone. It caused the butterflies in my stomach to bounce low in my body.

  “Okay.”

  I was doing it again. Not making conversation and sounding like a complete idiot.

  “Well I guess I’ll—”

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” I interrupted. The butterflies were in full migration around my body. I already knew he was going skiing. So, what? I needed to keep the butterflies busy; I liked them being around. I heard him take a deep breath into the phone.

  “I’m going skiing with a couple of buddies from college. Do you ski?” I could hear him shuffling things around.

  “No. We were supposed to go tomorrow but that was before I told Cindy she was a bitch. Where are you?” I stood up and looked in the mirror above the sinks.

  “I’m in my old room at my family’s cabin. Where are you?” he asked back.

  “I’m still at Cindy’s.”

  “I figured that. Where are you in the cabin?” he said. His voice was low and growly.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I snapped back.

  “Well then let me guess. You’re in Nick’s room.”

  “No.”

  “Cindy’s room?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re not still in the bathroom are you?” his voice went up an octave.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact I am. That’s where you left me.” I was totally amazed at how much confidence I had over the phone.

  “I left you? Mmmm. So you’re not avoiding your friend?”

  “Okay, maybe I am. But I don’t have someone to protect me.” I played the game.

  “What about Nick? He’s there. He looked like he wanted to protect you,” his voice became low and I could tell he was setting a trap. He played his cards close to his chest, waiting for me to raise his bet or fold and go home. Well, that’s not the way I play.

  “What about him? He’s a nice guy. But not the one I’ve been thinking about.” My breath caught the quickened bubble that formed in the middle of my throat and escaped my body.

  “Who were you thinking about? Because I could call him for you.”

  “I’m pretty sure you know who it is.”

  “Really, what does he look like?”

  Damn it. How do I answer that? Too much information and he’s going to win. Not enough, and he’ll fold and walk away. Do I go with the ugly, yet cute, description to throw him off track or do I tell him the truth? Which one wouldn’t scare him away? God, I wish Joanie was here. She is so much better at this then me. Okay, here it goes; on my own.

  “He has these deep, green eyes that almost hypnotize you when you look into them. His shiny, black hair is off his collar but kinda long on top. He’s taller than me and thoroughly buff. He looks really good in a T-shirt and jeans.”

  He was silent.

  Maybe I should’ve gone with the ugly yet cute description. After a moment he cleared his throat.

  “What do you know about this guy?”

  “I know that he lives and works in California. He’s not much older than me. His family has a cabin, and he’s here this weekend. He came over tonight with his brother, but then had to leave for some reason. Left me in this bathroom and I never found out why.”

  I waited.

  “Will you forgive him? He must have a lot to think about to leave you in that bathroom. But I bet he regrets not staying.”

  My heart sputtered and I caved in. This was so intense. He likes me. Oh my God—he likes me. Don’t give in yet.

  Now it was my turn to ask questions, “How do you know he regrets it?” I fished for answers.

  “Because I know the guy, he’s a good friend of mine. I know him better than I know myself.”

  “Has he ever talked about me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What has he said—about me?” Okay, here we go.

  “He likes your humor. He thinks you’re beautiful, smart, and he can’t wait for weekends to roll by so he can get back to you.”

  Yeah, it was about time we both knew how we felt. This was the greatest day of my life.

  “But—” he stopped.

  “But, what?” I waited.

  “But, I can’t—he can’t be with her.” And with his words, in a matter of seconds, it had become my worst nightmare.

  Fix it; I had to. This was not the way the game was supposed to go. My mind spun, trying to find anything that would pull him back. Make him see that our feelings were more important than numbers. Time was a continuum that we could twist and manipulate into gaps of experiences we could control and be patient with.

  “Is it my age? I’ll be eighteen in less than a month.” My heart was pounding and crashing hard against my rib cage. I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was in the middle of a tightrope and someone jumped on the other end, causing it to bounce.

  “Trust me, I know. But once you’re eighteen there’s still the fact that you’re my student.” his voice dropped low and almost went to a whisper.

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. There were no words that could explain the pain and despair I felt that raged throughout my body, mind, and soul. The tears fell fast. I tried not to sob but I couldn’t help it. The back of my throat hurt from holding back the swell of anguish that struggled its way out. For the first time in my life, my heart was broken by a boy I loved.

  Chapter eight:

  I didn’t care how loud I cried. For the first time I knew what it felt like to have my heart broken. Really broken—ripped out, torn into a thousand pieces, and thrown on the floor. I fell back on the sofa in the huge bathroom and dropped my phone to the floor. God, it was so painful. My head throbbed with agon
y that circled around and poked at his words. Why did he pull me in? What did he gain from doing that? I didn’t want to be this girl anymore. I didn’t want to ache for the butterflies that had their wings torn off and lay suffering. I pulled my knees to my chest, curled up into a ball, and tried to save the last few butterflies that had a chance of surviving.

  Leather was the worst type of sofa to cry into. My tears didn’t soak in. They just sat there, motionless, waiting for me to wipe their existence clear. I couldn’t. I had nothing left. My eyes swollen and burning, I closed them waiting for the pain to turn to anger. Lucid images of him standing in front of me flashed and stuck in my mind. His words filled my head and I couldn’t get them to stop. All I wanted was to go home. Leave Aspen behind with the pain that struck me harder than the loss of my grandparents or the abandonment of my mother.

  I heard a light knock at the bathroom door. I didn’t want to open it. I didn’t want to see anyone. I was a frickin’ mess and I didn’t need a couple of spoiled rich kids pointing it out to me. Another rap at the door echoed in the bathroom.

  “Someone’s in here,” I said to the knocker on the other side.

  “I know. Are you okay? Can I come in?” It was Nick. I could hear his hand slide across the door and jiggle the knob.

  “I’m fine, thanks Nick,” I choked the words out and started crying again.

  “You don’t sound fine. What’s wrong?” he said louder.

  “Please. I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

  “Okay—if you need me, I’m right outside.” He tapped on the door and then it was silent.

  I looked at the massive clock that ticked away time, erasing the moments I’d lost crying. It was one o’clock in the morning. As much I wished it was a nightmare, I knew it was something real. I looked down at my phone, lying open on the floor. I picked it up and caught my reflection in the mirror above the sinks. Holy shit, I looked horrific. My eyes were bloodshot and my face was splotched red. My hair had twisted into fuzzy knots; I looked like I’d been hit by a speeding dump truck. Any attempt to fix my appearance was a total waste. I unlocked the door, shuffled back, and flopped on the sofa. I pulled my legs into a tight fold in front of my body, wrapped my arms around my knees, and closed my eyes as I dropped my chin to my chest. The latch clicked and I heard the door slide open across the expensive rock floor. My shoulders tightened with the thought of Nick seeing me in this state of mind. I didn’t raise my head. Deep down I knew it was a bad idea to let him in. The door shut and I heard him push the lock. At least he was thoughtful enough to keep other people out. I could feel his presence standing in the middle of the room staring at me. But he didn’t speak.