“See, I knew you had the hots for him. You’ve never given a rat’s ass about any of our teachers before. Why him? Why now?” she taunted me as she snapped a red and white striped shirt in front of me to fold it.
She’s baiting me to talk. Don’t listen. Just stay calm and tell her what any other person would say. Hold it together, Wilson, come on. I had to talk myself down from the frenzy swirling in my body. My butterflies, protective and strong, swarmed heavily around my body, working to find a way to bring Cindy down.
“I don’t like him that way. Why are you doing this? He’s a good teacher, that’s all!” We were standing toe-to-toe with each other. My eyes narrowed and my face was stoic. Her smug smile and arrogant stance as she shifted her body was proof enough that she believed she was right.
“Oh, come on you guys. Whatever!” Joanie tried to change the dynamics of our argument.
“I just want Wilson to admit she has the hots for Mr. Goldstein and I’ll leave it alone.” She flipped her hair back and bounced her hand toward me.
Lava of hate bubbled in my stomach. It was beyond the abilities of my butterflies.
“Fuck you, Cindy. It isn’t always about you and what you can figure out. Not everything has to do with sex. Oh wait, I forgot it’s you I’m talking to. Why don’t we tell Joanie about the guy you slept with last night? What was his last name Cindy, huh? Oh, you don’t remember? Or maybe it was that you never knew! So don’t stand there and tell me to admit to something you have no clue about. You are so tainted. Poison, that’s what you are, poison.” I looked at Joanie and left. Now it was war. Truth be told, it was my perfect excuse to get out of there and be with Max. I’d just taken it to another level, and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t follow me.
I was fuming. Why did I let Cindy get to me? My lungs ached from my shallow breathing and my throat stung from the words that scuffed and cut their way out in a desperate attempt to keep my secret. My eyes burned; I hated losing it like that.
“Wilson! Hey wait up,” Joanie was screaming. I didn’t stop. I wanted to be far enough away before I stopped walking. All I wanted was to get to Max. He could calm the madness that fluxed through my body.
“Sorry, J. I just needed to get away from her,” I told her as she bumped into my side.
“Don’t worry. Are you okay? Wilson, I’ve never seen you so pissed. I was waiting for you to clock her upside the head.” She swung her arm around my back; catching my shoulder, she pulled me against her side.
“I’m fine. I just couldn’t take it anymore. She is such a bitch!” I took a deep breath, trying to clear all the negative energy seeping into my heart. “I can’t believe I dropped the F-bomb on Cindy,” I continued.
“I know,” she barked.
“I’ve never said that to anyone before.” I felt my insides shaking.
“I know,” she repeated. I took another deep breath.
I wanted to ask Joanie if what I was doing with Max was wrong. Was it really that bad to want someone who made me feel whole again? He made me feel so safe. I could be myself with him. When I was with him I didn’t feel seventeen and he wasn’t twenty-two. We were two people who belonged together. I decided not to ask. I just didn’t want to know if she had some doubts.
“Where are you planning to go? Because if you plan on just walking around I need to change my shoes.” Joanie stopped me and pointed to her slippers. We laughed. “J, I want to see him one more time before school tomorrow. After that, it’s going to be different. I just know it.” I stared up at her with my puppy eyes. She stared back for a moment before she broke away.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked as she looked down at the sidewalk.
“I need you to be okay with what I’m doing. That’s all.” I looked down at the sidewalk too.
“I’m okay with it. You’re my best friend and I want you to be happy—always.” She pulled me into a hug. She always hugged the best: strong, tight, and comforting.
“Thanks, J.” Relief flooded my soul.
chapter twenty-eight:
Joanie gave me a ride to Peet’s Coffee and waited with me while Max came to pick me up. It gave us a moment to talk about my weekend with him.
“Okay, so what happened? Details, please.” Joanie turned off her car and faced me with the anticipation of what I was going to say.
“Well, Max showed up at a party Cindy had the first night we were there. He came with his brother, Calvin. Anyway, we ended up in this huge bathroom across from the room I was staying in. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He left and I was devastated.” I took off my seatbelt and adjusted myself to sit facing her.
“Oh my God. He was being a total tease.” She smiled and pushed me.
“Yeah, I guess. He did leave his number in my pocket.” I pushed her back.
“Get out!” Joanie hit me again.
“No, really, he told me to call him that night. So I did. We were talking and getting along great when he said he couldn’t be with me. So I broke down crying and, the next thing I knew, he showed up.” I was bursting inside with excitement. It was like reliving it all over again.
“He showed up?” Joanie adjusted her body and got real comfortable.
“Ah, yeah—he showed up.” The butterflies woke up.
“Did you guys do anything?” She licked her lips. She wanted all the juicy details.
“He kissed me right there in the bathroom, against the sinks. Mmm, J, he was really good, too. Like your favorite piece of chocolate cake good.” I could feel my face heat and my cheeks tighten above my smile.
“You kissed him back, right? What did you do with your hands? Tell me you kissed him back.” She swallowed hard leaning toward me.
“Oh, heck yeah I kissed him back. My hands were up in his hair, of course. You know how I feel about his hair.” I laughed.
“Wilson’s first kiss! And by an older, hot, smart guy. What happened after the kiss?” she squealed.
“Okay, ready for this? He spent the night with me. He slept with his body against mine. Oh my God, Joanie, he was so sweet and a total gentleman. Didn’t try anything with me.” My eyes glossed with the thoughts of us together that night.
“Un-frickin’-believable! You are so frickin’ lucky, Wilson.” She pulled me across and hugged me tight.
“Thanks, J, I appreciate it,” I whispered.
“Well, you deserve to be happy!” she sounded like she was going to cry.
“I am happy.” I pulled away to see him drive up in a black Mustang. “What is he doing in that car?” I pointed to him across the parking lot. My phone chimed with a text from him.
“I’m here, where are you?” I read out loud to Joanie.
I’M N THE WHITE DURANGO N FRONT OF PEETS W/JO-NEE. WATS UP W/MUSTANG? I sent it back to him.
I watched him lower his head to read what I sent. He looked so good. He had a navy blue hoodie pulled up over his head. I saw him smile as he looked around and spotted us. I waved across to him. He moved his car closer before he got out and came to my side of the Durango. He tapped the window with his finger. I pushed it down.
“Hi, Wilson,” he smirked.
“Hi.” I answered before I smiled. I was so nervous. I wanted him to be okay with Joanie seeing us together. “Joanie gave me a ride here,” I justified her presence.
“Joanie.” He looked across to my best friend. “How are you?” He raised his hand from the door of her car and gave a small wave. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at me.
“Fine, thanks, and you?” Joanie grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it back and forth.
“Good, thank you.” He looked at her. “J, do you mind if Wilson comes over to my place for a little while tonight?” he asked her for permission. My butterflies begged her to let me go. How honorable was he? I looked over at her, she looked at me.
“No, Mr.—Max, I don’t mind at all,” she told him. “Just don’t stay out too late, young lady!” she scolded me before she smiled and gave
me a hug goodbye.
“Thanks, Joanie,” he told her as he pulled the handle on the Durango, opening my door for me.
“See you, J. I’ll call you later,” I said as I shut the door and looked in at her from outside the car.
“You better. And don’t forget the paper that’s due for Mrs. Clouser tomorrow,” she shouted as she started her car and put it into gear. She rolled her window up and drove away.
He held the door open on the black Mustang then sped around the car and hopped in. Immediately he started questioning me.
“So what is this about a paper due for Clouser’s class?” He started the car to a loud rumble.
“Wait.” I pushed across the car to him, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, his hoodie still covering his head. I kissed him. His lips were warm, inviting, and tasty. I wanted to touch his hair so bad. “Hi,” I whispered.
“Mmm, hi, nice try Wilson. What paper is due tomorrow?” he growled low. His words, no matter what he said, teased my butterflies.
“Joanie! She snitched on me. It’s a paper about the first half of the movie Romeo and Juliet from the sixties. Not hard at all. I could write it in my sleep.” He grabbed my hand and drove to his house without saying another word about Mrs. Clouser’s crappy homework.
He literally lived five minutes away. When he pulled into his complex my stomach did somersaults. My butterflies loved it.
“My roommate won’t be back until tomorrow. We have the place to ourselves.” He parked in a covered carport.
“Whose car is this?” I asked as he came around and opened my door.
“It’s my roommate’s. He let me borrow it.” He crouched down, helping me out of the car. His hand wrapped tight around my waist as he shut my door and led me to the stairs that took me up to his condo.
“I can help you with your paper, if you would like me to,” he breathed into my ear across my hair. His body pushed against mine from behind.
“I didn’t come to work on my paper.” I leaned back against him. He grabbed me around the shoulders and pushed me up the last couple of stairs.
“Yeah, but what kind of influence would I be if I let you get away with that?” He pulled my hair away from the side of my neck and warmed my skin with his lips. I shuddered and tweaked my head back. Chills forced their way up my scalp and across my shoulders.
“Hey, how about a ticklish influence?” I spun to face him.
He had pulled off his hoodie. His hair was disheveled and calling to my butterflies; of course my hands got there first. I loved to tangle my fingers until they got lost in it. His perfect hands pressed hot against either side of my face. His stare seductively climbed from my lips up to my eyes and back to my lips again. His shoulders high against his ears, I closed my eyes and his lips pressed unyielding against mine. His fingers were firm against the back of my head before they wrapped around my back, pulling me tight against him. He was so warm and pleasing. Our moans and breaths caught low in our bodies. He pulled away just enough to push back against my lips with fierce lust.
He started moving me to the door. I shuffled. He wasn’t letting up. He kissed me like he hadn’t seen me in days. He backed me up against the door to his condo, twisted the knob, and we went in.
I wish I could tell you what color the walls were or what type of furniture he had, but I couldn’t. He was determined to get me straight to his bedroom. And to be honest, I was so wrapped up in him my eyes never opened and my lips never left his. It was just like the movies—we kissed our way to his room. We just didn’t strip on the way. As a matter of fact, when the back of my legs hit his bed, he stopped kissing me and pushed me down onto the mattress. His legs pushed between mine as they dangled down the side and he stood looking at me for a moment.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, low and bothered.
“Okay,” I projected.
He left the room. I pushed up on my elbows. Where was he going? Last time he did that to me he came back with something to eat. My stomach growled excitedly. But this time he came back with paper and a pencil. He had a book under his arm, and suddenly it hit me what he was going to make me do.
“Okay, so what’s all this?” I sat up.
“Well, you have a paper due tomorrow and I happen to have paper. I also found a pencil. What are the odds?” He held up the paper and a pencil.
“What makes you think I will cooperate?” I teased.
“I have an incentive for you.” He pushed his legs between mine, tossing the paper and pencil on the bed. “For every paragraph you get done you can choose your prize.” He smiled and it caught his eyes. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.
“What’s the catch? Do the prizes start small then get bigger as we go?” I breathed as I slid my hands up under his T-shirt and hoodie.
“Nope. You choose. But it might make for better sport if you find your way to the big prize.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and grabbed my arms out from under his shirt.
“Okay, I’ll play. What’s that about?” I pointed to the book he had flung onto the nightstand next to his bed.
“Cliff notes. In case you get stuck coming up with ideas.” He leaned against me, pushing me onto my back. His face was so close to mine I felt the heat of his breath warm my lips. His eyes fixed on mine as his hands slid across the bed and grabbed the paper and pencil.
“Deal?” he asked as he backed off me with them in his hands.
“Fine, deal,” I snapped. I grabbed the paper and pencil and walked over to the desk. “You have no idea what you’re in for. I can write for days. Hope you’re ready!” I flopped into his chair and pressed the pencil to the paper.
My first paragraph was done in five minutes flat. Wonder what he was willing to give me? He did have a point about build-up. Maybe I shouldn’t take advantage of him with the opening paragraph, and just ask for a kiss.
“Here you go. Check my work, Mr. Goldstein.” I held the paper in the air. He read it to himself mumbling.
“Good! What are you going to get for your first prize?” he grinned and crumpled his eyebrows as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Well, Max, since it is the first prize earned in this contest, I would like to ask for a kiss.” I stood up.
He came over close. He let out his breath slowly from his nose as it flared. His eyes twinkled as he teased me. He wrapped his arms around me and dipped me low in front of him. His lips pressed hard into mine as my hands knotted in his hair. His arms were rock hard as they held me. He tasted so sweet my butterflies didn’t know where to go. They pounded hard up and down my body. He rolled me back to standing and I actually got light-headed.
“Whew.” I pushed my hair back from my face, his hand still tucked around my waist.
“You liked it?” he growled against my ear.
“Oh yeah,” I answered him as I went back to his desk and hammered out another paragraph.
You would think it would have been easy to get another paragraph done when it comes to Romeo and Juliet, sixties style, but I came to find out it was a little harder than I thought. Do I comment on the production of the movie and how well it followed the book? Or do I focus on the abilities of the actors to bring the characters to life? It was probably better to just write about the characters’ triumphs and tragedies. Mainly because that is what we are studying right now: Shakespeare and the poetic injustice of Romeo and Juliet. The forbidden love and pent-up angst of two young people from two different worlds. Sound familiar?
“Well, stumped, are we? Here, let me see what you’ve come up with.” Max leaned across the desk and snatched up my paper before I could stop him. He held it high as he read it. I stood up and he raised it higher in the air.
“Hey, I wasn’t ready for you to read it yet.” I kept jumping, trying to reach it, which was totally useless; there was no way I could get it. His hand caught me around the back of my waist as he pulled me closer. I stopped jumping.
“This was the part of the
challenge I didn’t get to tell you about. I get to check what you’ve written, and if I like it, I get to choose the prize for you.” His eyes studied my expression as they persuaded me to kiss him.
“Did I pass?” I smirked as my lips left his.
“Well, let me see…nope.” He tossed the paper back onto the desk.
“How come?” I moped. I pulled the chair out and sat down.
“See here? And there?” He pushed his finger to the page. He leaned over me like he would when I was in his class. Familiar excitement flooded my body, feeding the famished butterflies. “You’re missing the main idea that ties this section to your opening paragraph.” He pushed his mouth to the top of my head and inhaled my scent. He moaned as he exhaled.
“If I fix that do I get two prizes? One for my paragraph and one for doing what you told me to do?” I tilted up to see him.
“Maybe. We’ll have to see how fast you get done.” He walked across the room and pushed his iPod into its docking station.
Within a couple of minutes I had my paper in the air waiting for him to look at it. He meandered over and snagged it from my grasp.
“Okay, yeah, not bad. I like how you brought in other characters like Benvolio and the Nurse. Alright, what two prizes were you thinking about?” he huffed, smiling.
I grabbed my paper out of his hands and pushed against him. I wanted to tease him. Kiss him without letting him touch me. That was my prize. I took his hands and pushed them to his back. He obeyed and shoved them into his pockets. I ran my hands up the front of his shirt and locked them behind his neck pulling him down to me. His eyes closed and I tasted him lightly. I pulled away and watched him lean forward He wanted more; I wouldn’t let him. His hands loose, he tried to grab me around my waist. I caught his hands and held them away from me.
“Hey. My prize, my rules. You don’t get to touch,” I scolded him.
“Just a little something?” He gave me a needy look. I pushed his hand to my cheek. His fingers mingled with my hair as he cradled my ears. He watched me as I leaned into him and kissed delicately under his jaw. His other hand steadied my face as he pulled me across to his lips. He couldn’t take not being in control. I pulled away and pushed him down.
Wilson Mooney, Almost Eighteen Page 25