by KD Robichaux
“Bye, Mom,” I say, and we head out the door. Corbin opens the passenger door of his Camaro for me, and I slide into the black leather bucket seat. As he closes it behind me, I tuck my bag under my legs and put on my seat belt. The interior is completely spotless and empty, except for the small American flag hanging from the rearview mirror.
As he gets in on the driver’s side, he starts the car and pulls out of our driveway. Once he’s out of my neighborhood and on the main road, he shifts gears and hits the gas, my body suddenly pressing into the seat.
“Like that, do you, baby girl?” he asks, and I realize I have the biggest smile on my face.
“Oh yeah. My brother has a Mustang and takes me on rides when he’s home. It’s the only time I get to go fast. I’m a roller coaster junkie too,” I confess, and laugh as he revs his engine, shifts gears, and speeds through a yellow light.
Soon, though, he slows back down to the speed limit. “As much as I’d like to go all Fast and Furious for you, I’d rather not get a speeding ticket on our first date. Your dad would probably never let me have a second one,” he says, and I giggle.
“True story.”
“Where do you go to ride roller coasters?” he questions, stopping at a red light before turning right.
“I’ve been to Disney World, Busch Gardens, and King’s Dominion, but the closest one is Six Flags. I’ve been to it several times, since it’s only about four hours away.”
“I can’t remember the last time I went to an amusement park,” he confides, and I look over at him with wide eyes.
“Really? Oh, my gosh, we’ll have to go soon.” The words escape my mouth without thinking, and I feel my face heat. “I mean, if you want to,” I add quietly.
He glances at me, hearing the abrupt change in my tone, and reaches over, resting his hot palm on my thigh. “I’d fucking love to take you to ride roller coasters. When we going?”
I grin. “Well, I graduate in about two months. Two weeks before the rest of the school lets out. Probably be a good time to go, before the summer rush. Fewer lines,” I suggest.
“Sounds perfect to me, baby girl.” He turns up the radio suddenly. “Oh, I love this song. Good shit.” I listen to the lyrics, and look at him questioningly before he begins to sing, “Did you do too many drugs? I did too many drugs. Did you do too many drugs too? Baby.” He tickles my knee on the last drawled out word, making me laugh.
“What the heck is this?” I ask.
“‘American Music’ by the Violent Femmes,” he replies, then taps along as he belts out the rest of the song.
When it ends, I smile over at him. “That must be some kind of California music or something. I’ve never heard of them before.”
“Yeah, I used to smoke weed and listen to them and Pink Floyd all the time back in the day,” he says so nonchalantly that my exasperated look catches him off guard. “What?”
“You smoked weed?”
“Who hasn’t?” He shrugs, giving me a sexy smirk.
“Um, me. I’ve never even smoked a cigarette. Much less something illegal.”
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me, baby girl.” He squeezes my leg.
“What’s it like?” I ask quietly, turning to face him as much as I can in the bucket seat.
“What, weed? It’s really not as big of a deal as people make it out to be. For me, it was just super relaxing. I’d smoke, and then just lie in bed and listen to music. It helped me turn my brain off so I could sleep. I had a lot of bad shit going on around me back then, and it was my escape,” he explains.
“What kind of bad shit?” I pry.
He glances over, lifting an eyebrow at me. “Promise not to run?”
Like that would happen, I think. Seeing the kind of man he is now, I’d never hold his past against him. “Promise.”
“Well, I told you I was in a gang before I was given the choice of jail or joining the military. But we’re not talking about some stupid little no-name group of kids that just call themselves a gang. I was part of one of the big ones out in Cali. I had it tattooed… here,” he tells me, pointing at a place on his arm before holding it over for me to see, but all I see is the beautiful Americana sleeve. “Feel it.”
I run my fingertips over his bicep, and sure enough, the skin there feels raised in places, as if it’s scarred beneath all the ink. “What was it?” I ask, wrapping my hand around his arm as he rests his elbow on the console, proud of myself for bravely keeping up the contact.
“It was the gang’s symbols, but in order to join the military, I had to get rid of it. Fastest way to do that, and what many people do, was to take a rock and scrub it out.”
“Ouch, didn’t that hurt?” I flinch.
“Hell yeah, it hurt, but I wasn’t about to waste the money and take the time to do that laser bullshit. I had a lot of tattoos already by the time I was seventeen, so after it healed, I got it covered up.”
“How did you have tattoos already? You have to be eighteen, right?” I probe, feeling like I’m interrogating him, but I can’t get enough of how open he’s being. He’s so interesting, and I want to know everything about him.
“Maybe to get one legally. But I had a buddy who was a tattoo artist, and he did them at his house. I got my first one when I was fifteen. I had all sorts of them by the time I was eighteen. I wasn’t happy with the way it was looking, getting patchwork tattoos. I felt like a car with a bunch of mismatched bumper stickers. So when I got here, with one of the best tattoo shops in the US right outside the base’s gate, I decided to go in and turn them into sleeves,” he explains, and I look down at his arm again.
Sure enough, looking closely, I can see hidden pictures within the overall traditional Americana style artwork. “We’ll have to play seek-and-find story time when I can actually see better, instead of in a dark car.”
We pull into the parking lot of the movie theater and he chuckles. “I’ll tell you all about them, baby girl. Might take a while, because each one has its own meaning. I never got anything that wasn’t symbolic to me in some way.”
He pulls into a spot and puts the car in park. “What about you? You want any tattoos?” he asks.
“I love tattoos. But as far as I understand, they’re really expensive. And since I don’t have a job….” I shrug. “No way my parents would give me money for a tattoo. So that will have to wait until I can afford them on my own.”
He opens his door and hops out, coming around and opening mine, where I struggle to get out of the slick and deep leather bucket seat. He holds out his hand to me and chuckles, pulling me up before closing the door. “What are you doing after graduation?” he asks, taking my hand like we’ve done it every day our whole lives. It’s that way for me too. It feels so natural holding hands with him, even though it’s something I’ve never done with anyone before.
“I’m going to the community college in the fall. I was thinking about working at Rock On over the summer during the day. I’ve actually done that before, worked there during my summer breaks. I mean, I’d be there anyways. Might as well get paid for it too,” I reply.
We approach the window of the box office and he buys our two tickets, and I thank him before he takes my hand once again, leading me into the lobby. “What are you going to school for?”
“I don’t know yet. I figure I have plenty of time to decide while I get my core classes out of the way first,” I admit, as we get in line for the concession counter.
“What, you don’t know what you want to be when you grow up?” He smiles.
“No, not really. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never had any big dreams of becoming something professional. I’m not really good at anything besides climbing. I always just wanted to be my mom.” I blush, looking away, embarrassed I don’t have a more interesting answer.
“Your mom? Like, you want to be a homemaker?” he asks.
“Yeah. I mean, some people think that’s an easy job, but it’s really not. It’s a lot of work running a househo
ld. And she not only keeps it running, but she’s amazing at everything that goes into it. We have delicious home-cooked meals every night. She cleans, bakes, grocery shops every week, decorates the house for every season and holiday, all sorts of stuff. And that’s with grown children. I can’t imagine how busy she was with babies. But she always does everything happily, with a big smile on her face. It all brings her so much joy just taking care of her family.”
He tugs on the hand he’s holding, bringing my body flush with his, and I lift my eyes to meet his. “There is nothing to be ashamed of about wanting to be a homemaker. Look at you, and from the little bit I’ve heard you two say about your brother, it sounds like he turned out great as well. Maybe if I’d had that, I wouldn’t have been such a little shithead when I was younger. That’s a very admirable job, Vi,” he assures me, and I melt against him. “I just don’t see how you planned on seeing that dream out, keeping to yourself and never dating.” He chuckles, winking at me.
“No one ever made me stop and take a second look before you,” I breathe, getting lost in his amazing dark chocolate eyes.
He smiles, and his eyes lower to my mouth when I unconsciously bite my bottom lip. The next thing I know, his soft, full lips are against mine, and a jolt runs through my whole body. As his hand comes up to rest against the side of my neck and I feel him trace my jawline with his thumb, everything and everyone begin to disappear.
The bright lights and menu above the concession stand are the first to dim, as I take in the heat of his body pressed to mine. The sound of the popping machine and the people talking around us in line are the next to fade, as I enjoy Corbin’s steady inhale and exhale through his nose, and then the barely audible growl he lets loose as he wraps his arm around my lower back. Finally, the strong smell of buttery popcorn and sugary sweet candy in the air dissolves, as all I breathe in is the delicious and intoxicating scent of the man before me.
The entire world has completely evaporated as time stands still, and all that’s left are the two of us in our sweet embrace. It’s not an inappropriate public display of affection, nothing overly passionate for anyone around us to lewdly observe, but heart-stopping just the same. And it seems to end just as quickly as it began when Corbin gently pulls away.
I blink up at him. “I thought the first kiss normally comes at the end of the date,” I whisper.
His face serious, he presses his forehead to mine, and replies, “You’ll learn not much about me is normal. I just hope none of it scares you away.”
I smile, trying to brighten his suddenly somber tone. “Maybe if we mix your un-normalness with my boringness, we’ll even each other out.”
“Vi, there is nothing boring about you, baby girl. You just needed someone to bring you out of your shell,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Are you calling me a hermit crab?” I giggle, as we make our way to the front of the line.
“Hottest hermit crab I’ve ever seen.” He chuckles, and looks up at the menu board. “Do you know what you want?”
“Chocolate-covered almonds and Sprite, please,” I answer, a little stunned. No one’s ever called me hot before, at least not right to my face like that.
“Chocolate-covered almonds, a large Sprite, and a large popcorn please,” Corbin orders, and pulls out his wallet to pay.
“Ew, popcorn is gross,” I mumble teasingly.
He gives me a horrified look. “What? I don’t know if this is going to work. Who doesn’t like popcorn?”
I laugh, smacking his arm. “Again, me, that’s who. It always gets stuck in my teeth.”
We grab our snacks, and then find two seats in the back of the theater, where he places the giant drink in the cup holder between us.
“You said you didn’t have what I do. So what did you have, if your mom wasn’t home with you like mine?” I ask curiously.
“My mom and dad divorced when I was little, and I lived with my mom in California, while my dad lived in the Midwest. She had an office job that paid really well, but it had long hours. She didn’t like leaving me alone, so I had a babysitter that would come over and hang out with me until bedtime, and then Mom would get home sometime after that. It was all well and good until I got a new babysitter when I was fourteen, and I was kind of pissed that she still thought I needed to be looked after. I mean, I was fourteen, not a child anymore. But then the babysitter showed up, an eighteen-year-old college student, and that was the end of my bitching,” he tells me, and a feeling I can only describe as jealousy fills me.
“Pray tell,” I prompt, because apparently I want to torture myself.
“Well, she was this hot older chick, and although I was only fourteen, I’ve always looked older. I took wrestling in school, and was a third degree black belt in Kenpō, so I had quite the body, even back then. I lost my virginity to her soon after—”
“Your eighteen-year-old babysitter slept with a fourteen-year-old?” I gasp, completely flabbergasted. “Isn’t that illegal? Plus, um… she was in college, you said. So why the hell would she want to sleep with a kid when she had people her own age?”
“One, it’s only illegal if you get caught, and two, I didn’t look much younger than I do now, so I’m sure she wasn’t thinking about my age at the time. We were just two people alone in my house who knew my mom wouldn’t be home until late,” he explains.
I look at him, imagining myself in his babysitter’s position if I would’ve cared how old he was, and I guess I can see why it didn’t matter to her. He’s freakin’ perfect. “I suppose.”
“But it all went downhill from there. She’s the one who introduced me to drugs. It started out as just weed, but then she started bringing over things like Ecstasy and all sorts of shit. She snuck me out to a party, and introduced me to her friends who were in the gang, and one thing led to another.” He takes a sip of drink before eating a handful of popcorn.
“And your mom had no idea?” I ask.
“Nope, not until I was sixteen and she happened to see one of my tattoos. But by then, I was already so submersed into all the bad shit that I didn’t really care about her feelings. Maybe if she’d caught me before then…. But I don’t waste time on ‘what ifs’. Because if my life hadn’t been that way, I would never have joined the military and I wouldn’t be the person I am today. It’s not my mom’s fault. I don’t blame her for never noticing. She was just a trusting person who believed her son when I told her I really liked my babysitter and how all we did was my homework and watch TV until I went to bed. Also in her defense, I got really good at lying and hiding shit. A person becomes very crafty when they become an addict.”
Just then the lights lower in the theater, effectively cutting off our conversation. I open my box of candy, and pop two in my mouth. As we watch the previews, I glance over at Corbin, the lights and shadows playing over his handsome features, and I can’t help but think how grateful I am that his babysitter was such a bad influence, because I probably wouldn’t have met him otherwise. I reach over and grab a handful of his popcorn, not being able to resist the smell any longer, and toss it in my mouth.
He looks over at me, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought popcorn was gross?”
“But it just smells so good. I can’t stand the way it makes my teeth feel though,” I tell him, swiping my tongue across my teeth, unintentionally drawing his eyes to my mouth. “Plus, it tastes really good when you mix the salty popcorn with the sweet chocolate.”
“Really? Let me see,” he whispers, and moves forward to kiss me, but before his tongue can dip into my mouth, my head jerks back as an explosion goes off on the big screen, startling me as the surround sound makes it seem like we’re under attack. Seeing that it’s just part of the trailer for an upcoming action movie, I giggle and shake my head.
“Here,” I murmur, and pour out a couple of my chocolate-covered almonds into my hand before holding them out to him. But instead of letting me drop them into his hand, he dips his face and eats them directly out fro
m between my fingers, the feel of his lips on my sensitive fingertips sending a surge of tingles to my core.
I watch as he eats another handful of popcorn, his face becoming thoughtful. He leans toward me to whisper in my ear, “You’re right. That’s delicious, but I would’ve rather tasted it on you.”
My face falls, but I try to be as open as he’s been with me. “I… I’ve never done that before, Corbin.” He pulls back and looks me in the eye, but my gaze drops to his chest. “Just… don’t get frustrated with me, okay? I know I’m not some super cool chick who has all this experience that’ll rock your world like your babysitter did. So just please… try not to get mad at me when I don’t know how to do something, all right?”
Suddenly, the drink is removed and the armrest is lifted from between us. He sets his popcorn in the chair next to him, and next thing I know, I’m in Corbin’s lap and he’s cradling my face with his hand.
“One thing I can promise you, Vi. I will never get frustrated or be mad at your innocence. We will take this thing as slow as you need. I’m normally not a patient man, but if it means getting to taste you and have you all to myself, I’d wait forever,” he says so sincerely I feel tears prickle the backs of my eyes. He pulls my face down to his for a soft, tender kiss, and then he lifts me back into my seat, grabs his bag of popcorn, placing it between his knees, and turns his attention back to the screen. I blink a few times, wondering how the hell I’d gotten so lucky to find someone who actually gets me. And with that thought in mind, I bravely reach over with my right hand and lace my fingers with his left, feeling his grip tighten as he rests our joined hands on his thigh.
After I finish up my candy, I spend the last thirty minutes with my head on Corbin’s shoulder, feeling more at peace snuggled against him than I ever have.
MY ASS IS completely numb, my arm is asleep, and I’m pretty sure my fingers are about to fall off from lack of circulation, but I’ll be damned if I move even a centimeter. I don’t want to risk Vi’s head leaving my shoulder or her hand pulling out of mine. Especially since she’s the one who initiated both.