“Would you go to prom with me?”
Chapter 6
I was almost seventeen when I really, really fell in love with Jag.
After that first kiss on the track, well, it seemed that I couldn’t keep my lips off of his. I don’t think he minded too much, though. And after the question-in-his-car-in-my-driveway-when-I-thought-he-didn’t-want-to-see-me-anymore debacle, we were inseparable from that day forward, getting in every moment together before he left for college.
“I think I’ve narrowed it down to where I want to go,” Jag informed my parents and me over dinner one night. The college coaches had been courting him like mad, from one side of the nation to the other. He’d gone on his visits and gotten so many offers, I was surprised that he’d ever be able to make a decision.
“Oh, yeah? Which?” my dad asked.
“Either Oregon State or South Carolina.”
Now, having three older brothers who were really into sports, I’d learned a thing or two over the years, so when I heard his choices, I let out a huge snort, making everyone look at me.
“What?” Jag asked narrowing his eyes at me.
“Seriously? It’s come down to whether you want to be a Beaver or a ‘Cock?” I died laughing especially at the look on my mom’s face.
“Ellen Reese Love!” she scolded.
My dad was having a tough time holding in his laughter and he finally gave up the ghost, letting out a snort before Mom gave him a dirty look.
Jag gave me a wicked you’ll pay for this later look after he’d barked out a laugh at my pronouncement. “Hadn’t thought of that, El. Leave it to you…”
And if the make out session Jag and I had before he went home was his way of paying me back for my mascot remark, well he could bring it on any old day.
A week later I sat in history class bored to tears, wishing Coach Hendricks would stop droning on and on about the Civil War when Rebecca made that snorting sound through her nose. I glanced over at her to see that she was looking at the classroom door. I followed her gaze and saw Jag and her boyfriend Ross Thompson (he played catcher for the baseball team, was a senior also, and a good friend of Jag’s) making faces at us through the window in the door. I snickered as they put on a little show for us, Ross mimicking Coach Hendricks’ teaching and Jag acting like he was falling asleep, which made Rebecca and I giggle, but stop quickly when we realized Coach Hendricks was looking at us. When the guys started acting like they were going down the stairs as they walked in a circle, going lower each time they went round, it was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing. But the funniest part of all was as they were making their third circle, Mr. Vining, our principal, walked up and stood watching them and their antics, unbeknownst to them. It was a classic moment as they made one more turn and they both finally saw him, arms across his chest, watching how ridiculous they were being, and both their mouths dropped open. Rebecca and I almost fell out of our desks laughing as Mr. Vining pointed down the hallway toward his office and Jag and Ross looked back at us with Oh shit! faces.
“Girls? Jensen and Thompson give you a good show?” Coach Hendricks asked gaining our attention.
It was Rebecca’s and my turn to sport Oh shit! faces then. But Coach Hendricks just chuckled and shook his head before continuing his lecture. Thank God Coach H was cool as hell.
After track practice that day (Rebecca came to watch), she and I jogged over to the baseball field to see our guys. Jag was pitching and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He looked freaking hot wearing his red cap, a white baseball shirt with red sleeves, and white pants with little red stripes. Yum. What can I say? I was a sucker for striped baseball pants especially on him. He threw a pitch and the batter swung, drawing only air.
“Go Jag!” I yelled, sticking my fingers in my mouth and letting out a shrill whistle from where Rebecca and I stood behind the backstop.
Coach Martin cut his eyes at me and I grinned and waved enthusiastically at him. I’d been his aide my freshman year and knew he was all bark and no bite. Well, when it came to me. I knew he was tough on his players because I’d witnessed a couple of his yelling fits, but they all respected him and knew he was a good coach because our team was really dang good.
I looked out at Jag, who’d just caught the ball from Ross who was catching, and saw him grin and shake his head as he looked down at the ground as he walked back to the pitcher’s mound. He then got in position, watching Ross’s signals, shaking his head the first couple times then he nodded and started his windup. I think he threw a curveball because that sucker seriously had been going straight before it made a huge drop down right as it got to the batter, who swung and missed again.
“That’s my boyfriend!” I yelled.
“And that’s my boyfriend!” Rebecca yelled, pointing at Ross.
Coach Martin shot both of us a sour look and we knew we were treading on thin ice, so giggling like idiots, we climbed the bleachers to watch the rest of practice in silence.
“God, look at Ross’s ass, El. Isn’t it the cutest thing ever?”
I laughed. “Well, I’m kinda partial to Jag’s, you know.”
“He’s got a cute ass too,” she said with a snicker.
I leaned back on the bleachers soaking in the sun’s rays. “So, Prom. Have you decided?” I asked, holding a hand over my eyes to shade them as I looked at her.
“Yeah. I’m gonna,” she answered.
I sat up quickly, a little surprised. “You are?”
“Yep.” She smiled at me. “I love him, El.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
I sat pensively for a few minutes, letting that settle in a bit. When I’d come to terms with it, I said, “I love Jag too. I think I’ve always loved him. I think I’m ready too.”
She nodded in agreement. She and I had talked about having sex since we’d first figured out what it was, so this was nothing new, and we’d both agreed that if we were really in love, that it’d be okay if it felt right. But now we were seriously talking about losing our virginity on Prom night, which was serious business.
“We’ll have to prepare, you know,” she added.
“Yeah. We’ll have to make an appointment, right? I’m kinda scared, Bec.” I thought I was ready, but I wasn’t really sure. That was some heavy stuff to deal with!
“We’ll go together, El. It’ll be fine,” she said, taking my hand and squeezing it before letting it go.
“El!” Jag yelled at me from the field. Practice was over and I hadn’t even noticed.
I looked down to see him standing on the other side of the backstop, beckoning me by curling a finger several times.
I jumped up and ran down the bleachers to him. In a totally nostalgic move, he put his face to the fence and stuck his lips through the chain link, puckering up when I made it to him. I laughed before smashing my lips to his.
“Fireworks?” he asked, pulling away then looking up and around before looking down at me and winking.
“Totally,” I said with a chuckle.
God, I really truly loved him. And that was all I needed to know that I was ready to give myself wholly to him.
So Jag and I did the whole prom thing, and it had been so much fun. He’d picked me up looking all dapper in his black tux with the vest and cumberbund that matched my dress in color. He looked so good that my knees almost buckled when I came downstairs and saw him standing in the living room waiting for me. Wow. He was so handsome. That boy could clean up nicely! The grin on his face told me that he’d appreciated how I’d looked too. Well, that and his actually telling me how beautiful I looked.
And, God, I so loved my dress! It was a frou-frou, sea-foam green monstrosity and it was fabulous. It looked like something Scarlett O’Hara would’ve worn, ball gown skirt, sweetheart neckline, strapless and I loved it so much, I couldn’t even be bothered to be upset over the way it went wacko on me when I got in Jag’s car, the bell skirt and crinoline petticoat practically flipping up to wh
ere I could hardly see out of the windshield. Thank God I wasn’t the one driving.
But before we’d left to attend the fun-filled fete, our parents had had to take a bazillion pictures of us. Jag’s parents had ridden with him to my house and planned to walk home after having dinner with my parents. And, man, I had no idea there were that many poses out there. If I didn’t end up having to take ibuprofen for my aching muscles from some of the positions they’d put me in, I’d need it anyway because my cheeks were sore from smiling so damned much. Jeez.
At Prom we’d danced our ever-loving hearts out the entire time only stopping a few times to get some punch. Make that heavily-saturated-with-whatever-liquor-Derek Bradshaw-had-sneaked-out-of-his-house punch, but I think the adrenaline from dancing kept us from getting overly buzzed. I’d been drunk exactly once before when Rebecca and I’d decided to make “Long Island iced teas” our freshman year when her parents had been out of town and I’d spent the night with her. I quote the drink name because pouring fifteen different types of liquor into a glass of Coke does not a LIit make. But I learned an invaluable lesson that night: after one glass, who gives a shit anymore. Your taste buds sure don’t. Lesson two, you ask? Don’t mix fifteen different types of liquor in a glass of Coke until your taste buds don’t give a shit anymore. Ick.
Jag had gotten us a room at the hotel where Prom was being held. I couldn’t believe that Mom and Dad had actually agreed to let me stay, but when I’d told them that Rebecca and Ross had a room there too, it’d kind of sealed the deal. Well, that and they loved Jag, so it was pretty much a homerun.
Rebecca and I were both nervous for the after-Prom gig, as should be expected. In preparation, we’d gone the month before to Planned Parenthood and gotten on birth control. I felt bad about not telling Mom, but I just couldn’t fathom talking with her about it, knowing it’d probably make her cry and I just didn’t want deal with that… ever. Rebecca and I had also read up on everything we could find about “doing it,” as we so expertly called it, from how much it would hurt to reading the article, “How to Keep Him Completely Satisfied in Bed: 50 Kinky Sex Moves Every Girl Should Know” from one of those chick magazines. She and I walked away from that one scratching our heads.
Regardless of my preparation, I was still a bundle of scared little girl by the time Jag and I made it to our room around midnight.
Once there, I excitedly explored everything, from running (yes, running in my humongo dress) out to the balcony to squealing over the TV in the bathroom. Jag had followed me the first couple of times through (I’d held his hand and yanked on it pulling him along with me) but he’d finally sat down on the bed tired of seeing all the cool stuff, I guessed. After my fourth time through, he called my name, and I came out of the bathroom where I’d been playing with the TV to see him sitting on the edge of the bed. He used his pointer finger, hooking it at me a few times, summoning me to him. I walked to him, and he moved his legs apart so I could stand between them. He placed his hands on my hips and pressed the top of his head against my stomach for several seconds before looking up at me. “What’s up with you, El? All of a sudden you act like you’re scared to death of me.”
Oh. He’d figured out that I’d been stalling.
“I’m not scared of you,” I whispered. My heart was about to pound out of my chest. I really wasn’t scared of him; I was just terrified of what I’d planned for the night.
He arched an eyebrow and raised his hand to push that cute hunk of hair out of his eyes, his hand going back to rest on my waist. “Then why are you avoiding me?” He looked up at me with those brilliant blue eyes of his so full of concern.
I reached down and messed with his bowtie. God, he looked so good in his tux. “I’m not.”
That made him raise both eyebrows. “Liar.”
His saying that made my eyebrows raise up in surprise.
He cupped my face and pulled me down to him, forcing me to put my hands on his thighs for balance, and put his forehead against mine. “I got the room because I knew it’d be late. I also knew some idiot would probably spike the punch, so it might not be safe for me to drive.” He touched his lips to mine then pulled back and said, “I also told your dad this. That’s probably why your parents said it was okay for you to stay with me.”
I stood up slowly and I think my mouth froze into a permanent O as I stared at him, embarrassed that he’d asked my dad if I could stay. Duh. I knew it’d been too easy when I’d asked my parents.
“What? Did you think I got this room because I expected you to ‘put out’?” He snorted as I still stood just staring down at him. “Although I did love this just now… you bending down… your tits right in my face.” He reached for me with a smirk.
That shook me out of my daze and I frowned pulling away from him. It stung a little that he hadn’t planned to sleep with me. I mean, I’d decided to give him something that I held very precious and he hadn’t even given it a second thought.
His eyes got soft and he grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto his lap. I was pissed until I couldn’t help but giggle as he fought to keep the skirt of my dress from flipping up everywhere. When he finally got it under control, he looked at me and shook his head, his lips twitching at the corners. “You really thought that’s what I wanted, didn’t you? El, I’d never put pressure on you for that; you know that, right?”
I bit the inside of my cheek and frowned again, knowing he was right. Of course, he’d never pressure me. Boy, I felt like a dumbass. “I feel like a dumbass.”
He snorted again. “Why?”
“That’s kinda what I thought. Not that you’d pressure me, but that it’d be what you expected. But I’m actually the one who made plans for us to, you know, sleep together.” I looked sheepishly at him. “Now I feel like I’m the one who’s put pressure on you.” I gnawed on my bottom lip feeling bad for putting him through this.
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, it’s no pressure on me at all, believe me.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear and looked at me, his eyes beaming. “Listen, El. I love you. I do.”
I stared at him for a beat. “Di— did you just say that you love me?” I whispered. He nodded slowly, watching me.
He loved me?
Oh my God! He loved me!
My eyes teared up. “I love you too, Jag,” I confessed. “I think I always have.”
He chuckled pulling me into him, wrapping his arms tightly around me and tucking my head under his chin. He kissed the top of my head and rested his chin there again before he spoke. “That’s good because I feel the same. And I hope you understand what I’m gonna tell you. God, this will go against every fucking Mancode there is.” He moved back and rubbed a hand over his face then looked at me out of the side of his eyes, a little chagrined. “Hell, they’d probably revoke my Man Card if they heard what I’m going to tell you,” he mumbled. He sighed deeply before facing me full on. “But I wouldn’t try anything with you right now, El. You’re only sixteen. That’s so damned young.”
I sat up straight and pulled back from him at that. “It’s not that young. And I’ll be seventeen in two weeks,” I said indignantly, the humiliation of the situation making my stomach clench. Then a thought hit me that made my heart sink. “I’ll bet you had sex by the time you were sixteen,” I said quietly.
He sighed again. “It’s different for guys.” When my body went rigid and he sensed I was going to go all feminist on him, he said, “El, it really is. You know it is. Guys don’t get emotional about it like girls do.” His hand rested between my neck and my shoulder and he smoothed his thumb back and forth over my skin.
I narrowed my eyes at him before asking the dumbest question ever. “So how many girls have you slept with, Jag?”
His thumb stopped its movement and he frowned then looked away, the muscles in his jaw jumping. “Does it matter?”
“No, I guess not,” I mumbled, my heart taking a direct hit then. Why the hell had I even asked? Ugh. Now my imagination was gonna g
o wild thinking of who all he’d been with. Yay for me and my ridiculous questions.
“But, El, it’s different with you and me… With you I would get emotional.” He kissed me softly then rested his forehead against mine as he let that sink in.
And just like that, it was all better.
We only got to second base that night, and I was okay with that.
Chapter 7
I was seventeen when Jag broke my heart for the second time.
He’d finally decided that he’d play baseball at South Carolina University. Thirteen hours away. Thirteen hours away! I honestly didn’t know how I’d survive being away from him or being that far from him. The only consolation in his choice was that he hadn’t chosen Oregon State, which was thirty-two hours away. Although his being over half a day’s drive away from me was bad enough, if he’d chosen O-State, that distance would’ve totally made me freak out. But I loved him and didn’t want to stand in the way of his success, so I lied and told him that I was fine with everything and that I was so excited for him and hoped he did amazing. That kind of lying was okay, I told myself.
The day he signed his scholarship was crazy. The principal let all the classes go to the gym to watch and cheer him on. There was a table set up at center court for him and the head coaches of the high school team and the college team to sit at. His parents stood behind them, and it seemed as if every newspaper in the state had a sports writer there, their photographers clicking away like mad. His new college coach had given him a USC cap, which Jag had put on immediately with a huge smile.
I watched from the bleachers, standing by Rebecca, smiling with tears in my eyes, so proud of him and what he’d accomplished, when he suddenly looked up and around with a frown. Then he stood and scanned the crowd before spotting me and signaled for me to come down there. I shook my head stiffly, a little horrified that he’d want me with him. His mom then realized what he was doing and started nodding fervently at me, holding a hand out to me and wiggling her fingers as if to take mine from fifty feet away. Ugh. I ended up having no choice but to go as Rebecca pushed me in my back, nudging me to go to them. I gave her a dirty look before making my way through multiple students then stepping down onto the gym floor and walking to the table.
Discovering Us (True Love Trilogy) Page 4