Girls Love Travis Walker

by Anne Pfeffer

  KABLAM! Something hit my windshield, hard. Zoey and I jerked apart, with me half-convinced we were being car-jacked or mugged in this shithole establishment I had brought her to. Something foul, lumpy, and orange drizzled its way down my windshield.

  “Stay here!” I commanded Zoey as I jumped out, ready to battle the criminal elements outside. She ignored me, popping out on her side as well.

  “What are you doing here?” It was the girl at the pump, an infuriated redhead. It took me a second to realize that she was yelling at me. Another second to register that it was Suki, the wild girl from Chick’s.

  “You asshole!” She launched her cup of Coke in my direction. It cartwheeled through the air, spewing its icy contents on my t-shirt. That’s when I realized that the weird stuff on my windshield was nachos and chips, probably from the station’s Fast Mart. She’d nailed me with her dinner.

  “You don’t have to throw things. Chill out!”

  Suki pointed a long fingernail at me. “I talked to some of the other girls at Chick’s, you know. You did the same thing to all of us.”

  My stomach turned over as I noticed Zoey, standing motionless on her side of the car.

  Suki saw her too. She yanked the nozzle from her car, spilling gas on the ground. “On to the next one, I see,” she snarled. “That’s great, Tyler.”

  Zoey’s head jerked toward me, a question mark on her face. I shrugged helplessly.

  “Listen, honey,” Suki said to Zoey. “This guy’s a total jerk. He’ll leave you high and dry—count on it.”

  She wheeled in my direction. “I don’t ever want to see you again!” After two or three attempts to start her little crap car, she chugged off, leaving us standing there speechless.

  After a minute of horrible silence, Zoey got into the car, slamming her door shut. Numb, I pumped five dollars worth of gas. I would have liked to fill it up, just to postpone getting in next to Zoey, but five was the exact number of dollars in my wallet.

  Moving with maximum slowness, I managed to stretch out the process of gassing up by at least a few more minutes. By now, I’d been outside for hours without a jacket and felt like a human popsicle. Despair and anger were fighting it out in my gut. Did I really deserve this? Was I really such a jerk?

  I must be.

  Everyone seemed to think so.

  Setback

  I got in the car and sat there, my shoulders slumped, my insides twisting together, too out of it to say anything or start the ignition.

  Finally, Zoey turned to me. “Tyler?” Her voice held disgust and disbelief.

  “Hey, I know her name!”

  “Whew! For a minute I was starting to think you had no standards.”

  “We… we went out one night. She got the wrong idea.” I was still freezing in my Coke-soaked t-shirt. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to get warm. “But I never lied to her or led her on.”

  “Let me guess. You slept with her and never called her again.”

  I didn’t answer. Not only was I a jerk, but I was predictable as well, a walking cliché. The processed cheese on my windshield, studded with soggy tortilla chips, had coagulated into a depressing lump around the windshield wipers.

  “I better clean that off.”

  “Yep.” She tilted her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  So out I went into the cold again. It took ten minutes of scraping with my fingernails and those chintzy paper towels they have at service stations. My windshield wasn’t exactly clean, but I could see to drive. By now, I was a solid block of ice.

  I drove to her home, where I pulled up in front and hazarded a feeble joke. “I guess this means no dinner… ha ha.”

  “This isn’t funny, Travis.” She jumped out of the car, slamming the door, and disappeared into her home.

  Trying not to, I shivered from cold, while my empty stomach grumbled. I thought of going home alone to my unheated, dark, foodless apartment, knowing Zoey hated me. I put my forehead against the steering wheel.

  After a minute, I started the ignition and put the car into drive. Then I put it back into park and turned it off. I ran up her stairs and knocked on the door. Politely but firmly.

  The door opened a crack. “Go home, Travis!”

  “Hey, look! If you want me to feel like shit about myself, well, okay. I do.”

  She didn’t answer, but the crack opened an inch.

  “A guy can change, you know. But you have to be willing to give me a chance.” My teeth practically chattering, I crossed my arms over my chest and tucked my hands into my arm pits.

  Silence. At least she was still standing there. Finally, she said, “Travis, I don’t know what to think. You’re so nice at work. I couldn’t even manage without you.” She threw her hands up. “Then, this happens.”

  “I don’t want just one night from you,” I said, my voice gruff. “I want more.”

  “That’s really hard for me to believe.” Her eyes fell and her mouth turned down. “I can’t deal with this. Let’s just give it a rest and be friends, okay?”

  “But you like me! You’re attracted to me!”

  Her cheeks flushing hot red, she gave me the tiniest nod. “But, that’s not all there is to it.”

  “What else is there?”

  “Please, Travis, let this be.” She shut the door in my face, leaving me once again rejected.

  The Pole

  On Monday, I showed up to work with roses, which I had secretly cut from the fence side of a neighbor’s bushes, and covered not only my own work, but Charlotte’s. She had pulled another no-show. On Tuesday, I strolled in the park with Zoey after work and Wednesday gave her a ride to pick up her car at the shop.

  I didn’t reach for her hand or try to kiss her, although it was hard to be just friends now, when I knew what it felt like to circle my arms around her body, feel her lips against mine, nestle my face into the hollow above her collarbone.

  Saying goodbye after work on Wednesday almost hurt. Even Zoey thought so; it was obvious. “All right, see you tomorrow,” she said, her eyes drifting over my lips, chest, and arms in a way that didn’t read friendship to me at all. There was nothing I could do about it.

  On Thursday I said, “You wanna go to the fire station with me tonight?”

  She set down a pile of napkins and bit her lip. “Would that be okay?”

  “Yeah. The Chief told me I could bring a friend.”

  Her face lighting up in a smile, she finally said, “I’d like that.”

  I picked her up at eight o’clock. The first person we saw at the station was Brandon.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked. Knowing how he felt about firefighting, I wouldn’t ordinarily think he’d waste an evening at the station.

  “My dad made me come. Hi,” he said to Zoey, his resentful expression saying clearly There’s Walker with another incredible babe.

  I gave him an apologetic shrug.

  The regular guys were all there, but quiet and tired after weeks of almost constant firefighting up in the hills. Perkins’s eyes warmed as he shook Zoey’s hand. “So you’re Travis’s girl?” His long mustache hung down over his front lip like an old cowhand in the Wild West.

  “We’re friends,” I said. I introduced Zoey to Garret, Jason, and some of the other guys on duty. We settled onto the sofas in the Day Room, while Garret scrolled through the TV menu, complaining that nothing was on.

  We drank the usual waters and sodas. Sprite, Coke, Orange Crush. I’d given Zoey a bottled iced tea. She took a little sip and surveyed the room around her, smiling at the guys. In a simple sweater and jeans, she looked perfect—hot yet classy. Her hair was down in this gorgeous platinum waterfall that they were checking out behind her back.

  Perkins started in with the fatherly questions. “So how did you and Travis meet?”

  “We work together at the Community Center,” she said. “He tells me about the fire station sometimes, and I wanted to come visit.”

  “We�
�re glad to have you. Travis, here, is the star of our Discoverers program,” Perkins said.

  Zoey did a double take. “You didn’t tell me that, Travis!”

  “It’s no big deal.” I mentally thanked Perkins for giving me public props.

  “Would you like a tour of the station?” Perkins asked her.

  “I’d love one! Thank you!” Zoey jumped up off the sofa, beaming.

  “Who wants to come along?” Perkins asked. In a second, both Brandon and I were up. The four of us took off, Perkins moving ahead with Zoey, while Brandon fell back. “You know anyone in the admin office at school? I’m going next week to arrange a visit from the fire department.”

  “No, sorry.” For a minute I couldn’t breathe. My mind played out the ugly scenario: the firefighters arriving at school only to hear the principal say, “Travis Walker? He hasn’t been enrolled here for almost two months.”

  Perkins led us into the Truck Bay, where he handed Zoey a firefighter’s helmet and let her climb up into the cab of one of the trucks. She sat happily behind the steering wheel with the too-large helmet down around her ears. I snapped a shot of her with my cell phone, trying to act normal as my brain took in what Brandon had said. Soon, it would all be over for me.

  As she climbed down, Garret’s voice called from above our heads. “Hey, Travis. You ever slide down a fire pole?” The gleaming stainless steel pole rose past the eighteen-foot ceiling of the truck bay, disappearing through a hole up into the second floor. In the hole, Garret and Jason’s heads appeared, looking down at us.

  I answered before I thought. “No, man. I want to, though.” With all the other things going on at the station, I’d never gotten the chance to do it.

  “We’re comin’ down.” In a second, Garret had leaped onto the pole and streaked downward, just one leg and one arm hooked around it. He made an effortless landing and took a bow. “Thank you, thank you. Do it in style, I always say.”

  “Head’s up!” Jason was coming now, managing somehow to twirl around the pole as he descended.

  “Wanna give it a shot?” Garret challenged me.

  “You bet!”

  “Good,” Garret said. “When you fall on your face, maybe you’ll rearrange some of your features. Then you won’t be so ugly.” He and Jason guffawed.

  I took the stairs two steps at a time, thinking crap, I’ve gotta ace this in front of Zoey.

  Alone at the top, I faced the pole. Down below, way down, they looked up at me: Garret, challenging; the others, expectant. I’d watched Garret and Jason as they came down: you had to lock your legs around the pole loosely enough to slide but tight enough to control your speed. I could do that— at least, I hoped I could.

  I took a deep breath and jumped, hooking both legs around the pole and sliding while both arms went up to flex my biceps. “Look, Ma, no hands!” I said, arriving at the bottom.

  Except for Brandon, who had gone dark and gloomy, they all whooped. Perkins slapped me on the back, yelling “Way to go!” while even Garret said “Good one!” I just had time to catch a red hot look from Zoey before the station alarm went off.

  In an instant, Perkins, Jason, and Garret were all business. “Nice meeting you, Zoey!” Perkins called as he took off. “Travis, the door’ll lock behind you when you leave.”

  The gleaming red truck slid into traffic, revved its siren, and left. Brandon had vanished. Not even thirty seconds had passed since the alarm sounded.

  Zoey and I were alone in the firehouse.

  The air seemed to quiver in the sudden silence. We smiled at each other. My heart thumped as images flashed through my mind: me kissing her, peeling off her sweater, lying on top of her and moving her legs apart with my knees.

  “Travis?” Her voice curled around my name, which only heightened my buzz of excitement.

  “What?”

  “I want to slide down the pole too.”

  “Uh…” I was going to say Maybe you shouldn’t do that, but from her tone, it was pretty clear she wasn’t asking for my permission.

  She smiled flirtatiously and headed for the stairs.

  “Zoey!”

  She turned back to look at me.

  “I’ll stay here and spot you from below.”

  She grinned. “Thanks.”

  I looked up. In an instant, Zoey was at the top, waving at me, seeming small and far away.

  “You okay?” I yelled, hoping she would chicken out. Her hand came out of the hole, giving me a circle with thumb and forefinger.

  A bead of sweat rolled down my temple as I stepped back, trying to judge her trajectory if she fell off the pole. She couldn’t weigh very much, so I figured I could catch her if I could just manage to get under her.

  Shit. She was coming. First her sneakers, then her jeans-covered legs, then her fantastic ass—all headed in my direction. Fast.

  When she landed, I was there, pulling her to safety while a major hard on set in. I’d never realized what a turn on it would be to have a beautiful girl slide down a pole into my arms. Of course, pretty much everything Zoey did these days gave me a hard on.

  My arms were around her and my face was in her hair, and somehow in her excitement she had turned around and wrapped her legs around my waist.

  “That was amazing,” she said into my ear.

  “No, you’re amazing.” I was on fire, inflamed by the way she panted in my arms, as if she’d been running, and the scent of her hair.

  Our lips somehow met, and I pulled away, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this, but she just grabbed a fistful of my t-shirt and hauled me towards her. That’s when I lost it completely. A second later, I had her pressed up against a fire truck, her legs still around my waist, while I sucked on her lips, mad with lust.

  We stayed there for a while, her feet eventually finding the ground while my hands crept up inside her sweater and bra.

  Then, off in the distance, a phone started to ring. It rang and rang until the caller finally gave up. Coming back to reality, I stepped away from her, while she cleared her throat and adjusted her clothes.

  I stole a glance in her direction. Five days ago, I’d promised not to touch her, and now I’d practically molested her. Not that she hadn’t been totally into it. She avoided my eyes, but a hint of a smile touched the corners of her mouth.

  The realization hit me hard. This, right here, in one place, was what I wanted. It was all I wanted. I loved the fire station, loved the work and the feeling of pride it gave me. I wanted to be a firefighter. And I loved Zoey. I wanted her, too. I would give myself to her, totally, if she’d have me.

  It was so simple, and yet I didn’t have either thing, and might never. Maybe my mistakes and lies had already caught up with me. The thought scared the hell out of me.

  We drove back in silence until I pulled up in front of her house.

  “Thanks. That was really fun,” she said.

  “Yeah, for me, too.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her face and eyes glowed in the light of the street lamps. She gave me a soft, sweet kiss on the lips and left.

  Heat

  The next day, Zoey invited me over for dinner. We both knew last night had changed the rules for us.

  I came up behind her as she stood in her kitchen, laced my arms around her waist, and moved my lips down her neck. As I inhaled, her vanilla scent filled my head.

  She patted my hands playfully. “I’m not having sex with you. Not tonight.”

  “I know.” I turned her around so she had to look at me. I kissed the palm of her hand, then kissed my way around her wrist. My tongue traced its way up to the inside of her elbow.

  “I mean it,” she said, laughing as I hit a ticklish spot on her arm.

  “I know.” For right now, just being with her was enough.

  “You want a margarita? A friend gave me a good bottle of tequila. I’ve been saving it.”

  “Nice gift. Sure, I’ll have a drink.”

  She poured them out from a pitcher, and, sinc
e she had no sofa, we sat down on the edge of her bed, sipping, while I asked her everything about herself. She was four months older than me, allergic to wool, non-church-going but believing in God, and scared of walking into dark rooms. Her favorite sport was running and her favorite food, Mexican.

  “I’ll bet you were really well behaved, right? Like with your parents?” I said.

  “Not always. When I was six, I protested my mother’s plan to marry my stepfather by running away from home. I got as far away as the neighbor three doors down, who fed me quesadillas and called my mom.”

  I made a mock horrified face. “Wow. That’s pretty wild!”

  Zoey gave my arm a soft punch. “And she married him anyway! Luckily, he turned out to be a really great guy.”

  By now, we’d had a couple of drinks apiece from Zoey’s seemingly bottomless pitcher of margaritas, in which she had not spared the tequila. Needing to feel her in my arms, I pulled her down to lie on the bed with me. “Trust me?”

  “Yeah.”

  We traded deep soul kisses while my fingers traveled across the small of her back and up her spine. Intoxicated not just by tequila, but by the softness of her skin, I traced the ins and outs of her ears and gently bit her earlobes. Then I moved down to her shoulders and in the direction of her cleavage, but stopped a respectful distance away.

  “See?” I said. “I’m behaving myself.”

  “Good,” she said with mock sternness, but her lips were parted and her breath was coming faster. Her hand accidentally brushed against my belly. All the blood in my body rushed to my erection. It throbbed like a mofo, but it was worth it to have her so close to me. We lay together on the bed, her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair. “It feels like silk,” I said. “Your hair. It’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”

  When she raised her head to look at me, I ran the tip of my finger down her nose and touched her cheek, idiotically happy, like a kid who just got the day off from school.

  “I’m not gorgeous,” she said. “I’m not a heart breaker. I’ve never been with any guy except Josh, and that wasn’t very good. I’m not good at any of this, Travis.”