Regret Me Not

by Danielle Sibarium

  "I won't run away. I promise."

  "Prove it. Tell me why you're so upset."

  "Fine." I meet his eyes, this time with enough courage to tell him. "My parents don't have college money for me. Seems like they blew it all on Jess. So now it's community college or nothing."

  "I'm sorry. I know how much you want to get away from here."

  I nod, this time keeping the tears at bay.

  "But you're smart. You can apply for scholarships."

  I shake my head. "My grades slipped. I'm lucky to pass with Cs right now. I did so bad in the beginning, between keeping shit together for my parents when Jess was in the hospital, and then rehab, I'm not going to get scholarships with these grades. I'm stuck here. Stuck in the shit-hole town."

  He doesn't answer. There's nothing more to say. He pulls me into his chest again and holds me close.

  Chapter 7

  The First Time

  The first time Brayden kisses me at school, I expect to hear all kinds of rumblings. I think the cheerleaders might tie me to a chair in the school basement to explain how I'm overstepping my boundaries, and warn me to back off. Fortunately none of these things happen. Instead they continue with the dirty looks and the icy stares they've been shooting my way for the last two months.

  "I'm surprised no one's saying anything about us," I admit on the car ride home.

  "Why would they?"

  I shrug, "I don't know, I guess I expected people would go ape shit that we're together. Together, together I mean."

  He laughs.

  "What's so funny?"

  "We've been together, together, you just didn't realize it."

  "No we haven't."

  He flutters his dark lashes at me, "Have you been with anyone since you left Scott at the party?"

  I shake my head, "No."

  "Neither have I. And we've been spending a lot of time together, haven't we?"

  I nod.

  "We go to the parties together, we leave together. We're together in school. Everyone has accepted us as a couple already. Everyone except maybe you."

  I sigh. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? You're my go to person."

  "Your go to person," he smirks and shakes his head, pulling his hand away from mine and placing it back on the steering wheel.

  "What's wrong with that?"

  "Nothing. I just hoped you saw me as more than that."

  I swallow down the lump in the back of my throat. "I do. Right now, you're my everything and that scares the hell out of me."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't want to end up like Jess. I don't want to lose my mind over a guy, even if that guy is incredible and amazing." I close my eyes, afraid to see his reaction. "Even if that guy is you."

  He takes his hand off the steering wheel and strokes my hair. "Who's to say you won't be the one to break my heart?"

  "For me to break your heart, you'd have to love me."

  "Exactly."

  My mouth falls open. Did I just hear right? My strong handsome boyfriend (I love that that's what he really is) could take a hit from three guys coming at him from all different directions but has a hard time saying I love you. He's just a great big softie. The shy sensitive act isn't an act at all, that's the real him. The him he said he could only be with me.

  "Brayden, I . . ."

  "It's fine. I didn't tell you so you'd say it back. I know you're a scaredy cat. I just wanted you to know how I feel about you."

  *

  The best part of Valentine's Day is the excuse it gives Brayden and I to gush all over each other. My morning starts with a text:

  Roses are red,

  Violets are blue,

  I can't wait to spend

  Valentine's Day with you.

  I send back an equally mushy and terrible poem.

  If my heart were made of chocolate,

  I'd break it apart in two,

  And hand over the larger piece,

  So I could forever be a part of you.

  Brayden's car waits for me in front of my house as it does every morning. As soon as I walk outside, he jumps out and opens the door for me. Brayden's brown eyes dance with excitement when I get close and he pulls me in for an extra-long hug. Usually I don't like when he hugs or kisses me in front of my house. I'm paranoid my neighbors have nothing better to do than spy on me. I swear I see the curtains move in the window directly across the street from us every time I come or go. It doesn't help that Mrs. Simpson, who happens to live in that house is the town gossip. Deep down I know they're all watching and waiting for that moment they can prove I'm just as messed up as my sister. But today I don't mind his public show of affection, I savor it.

  "Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful."

  "Happy Valentine's Day, Brayden."

  We don't talk much on the ten minute drive to school. Instead we smile and giggle at each other. A lot. For reasons I can't explain, we're acting like a couple of middle school kids holding hands for the first time.

  "Do you mind if I give you your gift when we're alone tonight?"

  "Of course not." Adrenaline shoots through my veins as I think about tonight. About being alone with Brayden in his house and what that means.

  We hang out in the hall, going over our plans, waiting for the first bell to ring. When it does, he walks me to class as usual, only today, he kisses me longer, and when I try to pull away he doesn't let me.

  "Relax." He whispers in my ear, "Today is the lover's holiday."

  I don't know how he manages it since he escorts me from class to class, but each time I return to my locker, I find a note inside waiting for me. Just one line written on a pink post it.

  You're the reason today is special.

  Not even chocolate can compare to how sweet you are.

  My heart is branded with your name.

  I'm not sure if he thought them up himself, or if he got them off a website. I don't even care. Each time he looks on, waiting for my reaction. I thank him with a hug and kiss. The notes make me smile, and I save each one, placing it neatly in my pencil case.

  "How are you doing that?"

  "The world will never know." Brayden says with a cocky smile.

  On the way to my last class, he slows his pace, and pulls me into an alcove under the ground floor stairwell so we don't get trampled by the sea of students. "Are you ready for tonight?" His chest heaves, and his playful sentiment is gone.

  My stomach tightens. My whole body pulses to the erratic beat of my heart. "I can't wait."

  His fingers brush my cheek, and the playful energy between us through the day changes. It's heavy. Serious. Charged. "Are you sure you're okay staying home?"

  "We're going to be alone right?"

  He nods.

  "Yes."

  His eyes fall, making me nervous and unsure of myself. Could he be having second thoughts? He's made a point of limiting our alone time. Every time we start to get carried away with each other he makes an excuse to stop; it's time to go home or time to meet up with our friends.

  "Brayden, do you not want me? I mean, like that?"

  He grabs handfuls of my hair, pulls my head back and leans over me. His eyes are glued to mine as he speaks. "How can you even ask? I want you." He whispers in my ear. "Since the first time I saw you come to watch the team practice I've wanted you."

  "Then what's wrong? You seem, I don't know, distracted?"

  He shakes his head. "I'm nervous. I want you to know it's okay to change your mind. I just don't want you to be afraid to tell me . . ."

  I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. Not only because it's all I ever want to do when we're together, but to shut him up as well. I'm not used to seeing Brayden unsure of himself and I think he must be as nervous as I am. After the first time we kissed, when we returned to our senses, we agreed to take things slow. We didn't want to fall apart before we even started. But that was months ago, and it's time to take the next step.

  "I won't. I love you. And I'm re
ally looking forward to tonight." The kiss works, it stops the almost incoherent words from sputtering out of his mouth, but it doesn't lighten his mood at all.

  "You are so beautiful."

  "Brayden, what's going on? Why are you so serious?"

  "I've been thinking about later, and it hit me. No, it bowled me over. I'm so madly and completely in love with you. You're my whole world. I can't imagine my life without you."

  The thought crosses my mind for the first time and it ruffles the calm exterior I'm trying to portray. We can’t last. My heart feels like it was just thrown from a plane without a parachute.

  "Oh please. In six months you'll be away at school and one of your old friends will mention my name and you'll be like 'Mackenzie who?'"

  He takes my hand and squeezes before leading me once again to my world history class. "That's never going to happen. And you're not getting rid of me, so you can forget that."

  *

  Brayden's parents have dinner reservations, and his brother, Dean has a dance at his girlfriend's school, which means we're going to have the house to ourselves. At least for a few hours. The plan is once Brayden's parents leave to drop Dean off at Elise's house, he'll come get me.

  I shower and put on the laciest bra and panty set I have. Ironically its white, which makes me think of the "wholesome and pure" comment I teased him with. The truth is, I don't know how we waited this long, but I'm glad the wait will be over in a few hours. I toss on my favorite pair of jeans. They fit perfectly and Brayden always tells me how good I look in them. Next I pull over a black cami-top with lace around the neckline, and over that, an oversized red shirt covered with silver and black hearts. I look in the mirror wondering how much make-up I should apply for tonight's special occasion. I want him to appreciate my natural beauty, and more than that, I'm afraid I'll end up with make-up all over my face. I decide I'm probably safe with just some eyeliner.

  "You're not going!" My father's voice booms through the air.

  "Why not?!"

  My parents and Jess are at it again. They've been fighting a lot lately. She's convinced they need to give her more freedom, they're afraid she'll fall into a backward spiral if they do.

  I open the door to my bedroom so I have an easier time listening. Clearly its not a private conversation, and I worry this will somehow interfere with my plans.

  "We didn't sacrifice all these months so you could hook up with some junkie."

  "He's not a junkie. And I didn't ask you to give up one damn thing. You could've just let me die and I would've been perfectly happy."

  This is a bad one. She hasn't tried to manipulate them with that line in months. Not since we found out I'm stuck going to a local college and living at home.

  "How am I ever going to earn your trust back if you don't give me a chance to do it?"

  She has a point. With Brayden's neatly wrapped gift in my hand I go downstairs. I have an hour before Brayden picks me up.

  "Come on," Jess continues working on my parents. "I told him I'll meet him at the diner, so you can drive me there, have dinner and then drive me home. I just need to get out and start having some semblance of a life."

  "If you pull anything I'm done with you," my father threatens.

  "Like what? You'll be right there, hopefully not in the booth next to us, but come on, you can keep me in your line of vision the whole time."

  I hear my father's long, drawn out sigh. It's the equivalent of a white flag of surrender. Jessica won this battle.

  "Hey, since you're going out, do you think you could drop me off at Brayden's?" I don't know why I ask. I know I might have just opened the door to an inquisition.

  "I thought you were going out for dinner?" Mom asks.

  "We are," I shrug, "but then we could leave right from his house. It would save some time. If not, he can pick me up here like we planned."

  "And leave you two alone in the house? No way," my father answers. "Let him know we're dropping you off."

  I smile, feeling giddy, not only am I going to have sex for the first time with my amazing boyfriend, but my clueless parents are delivering me right to his front door.

  *

  I stand outside Brayden's house, waiting for him to answer the door. I look at the simple, neat landscaping framing the structure. His house might not be as big as mine, but the love and care for it shine through in its immaculate upkeep. The door opens, and Brayden steps out onto the front stoop in jeans and a tight black V-neck. His hair is damp and I smell the clean scent of soap and powder radiating off him. He offers my parents a wave of his hand and a quick smile before they pull away.

  He steps inside the house, and before I have a chance to follow he turns to me, "Are you planning to come in or are you going to stay there all night?"

  "Ha. You're so funny. I didn't realize you're a comedian."

  Brayden reaches for my hand and with a flick of his wrist and a wicked smile, he pulls me inside. Standing a centimeter away he stares his hooded eyes down at me. I don't have a chance to speak before his mouth covers mine. His hands reach under my hair as his tongue travels across my jaw to the area behind my ear. Every touch, every brush of his lips makes me tingle inside.

  His hands travel down my neck, causing tiny bumps to rise as his lips meet mine again; they're possessive and demanding. Brayden pulls me to him, as close as we can be, cupping my bottom, pressing into me. His hands crawl up my lower back, under my shirt. With a feather light touch, his fingertips lead the way to my front, around curves, over peaks and valleys, kneading and squeezing as they go. His hands are hot, scorching, against my skin. At least I think they're the cause of the sudden warmth I'm feeling in my cheeks and throughout my body.

  I want him now.

  Now isn't soon enough. I want to succumb to the raging need consuming me. I reach for the waistband of his jeans, and fumble with the button. Brayden stops me, taking my hands in his. He advances on me, moving me backward, until I'm against the wall and can't go any further. Still holding me, he lifts my arms up, over my head.

  His hands leave mine and inch down my arms, over my breasts, down to the hem of my top shirt. He lifts it and tosses it to the side. Over the material of my cami-shirt, he brings his mouth to my breast and clasps his teeth around one nipple, while his thumb strokes the other, making them stand at attention. Just as I think he's going to lay us down on the hard ground, he pulls back, takes my hands in his and whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

  "Did that do anything for you?"

  I take an extra breath to find my voice. "You wish."

  I play it off. I don't want him to know how incredibly turned on I am. The truth is, he could be wearing a loin covering and hanging from a vine while pounding his chest like Tarzan and I'd think it's hot. It doesn't matter what Brayden does. Just one look at his smoldering eyes, his delicious pouty lips, or his strong sculpted body, and I'm done for. The bottom line is I love him and I want him.

  Holding my hand, Brayden leads me into his room. I've been in his house before, but only the kitchen and the living room. His parents don't want us alone in his bedroom. Not even with the door open. Brayden swears it has nothing to do with me, or anything they heard about my sister. His parents want him to set a good example for his younger brother. I want to believe him, and at times when he flashes the adorable shy smile I think he just might be telling the truth.

  At first I'm not sure what color the walls of his rooms are, as they are plastered with posters. The football posters don't surprise me, but the other ones do. The inspirational quotes like, "Did you leave it all on the field today?" and "It's okay to get knocked down, as long as you get back up." They all have a connection to football, at least on the paper they're printed on, a helmet or field in the background, but I know the real connection Brayden has to them runs much deeper than football. These are the words ingrained in his heart. These are the principles he lives by. Each poster has a positive message. One of hard work and success.

  "I know,
corny right?"

  My eyes glass over. "No. It's so . . ."

  "Immature? Ridiculous?"

  "No. It's . . ." I search for words to describe how awed I am, but I can't find any. "It's just so you. Now I understand why you're always so upbeat and cheery."

  Brayden's eyes dart off to the side as he runs a hand through his hair looking uncomfortable. "You are trying to ruin my reputation." He teases.

  While he regains his composure, I continue to look around and read the words scrolled across his room. "Hey. Stop looking at Tebow's ass." His hands are on my waist. They pull me against him. "Pay attention to me."

  "Tebow? Is that who that is?" I nod to a poster with a football player on it, his back to the camera, that says, "I don't know what my future holds, but I do know who holds my future."

  "Yeah," he snickers. "That's who it is. Don't think I don't see you checking him out."

  "I would never." I flutter my eyelashes.

  "Oh really? Well it just so happens I know for a fact you have a thing for football players."

  "Football players? No way. They're barbaric."

  "Really? So right now, you’re not hot for a quarterback?" He leans in and kisses my neck, making me moan.

  I slap at his chest playfully. "Well, okay, you got me there, but you have to admit, Tebow is something else."

  He nips at my lower lip playfully, "Is that so."

  I nod. "There's him, and maybe just one other."

  His eyes widen, "One other, huh?"

  "I can't hide anything from you," the playfulness leaves me, the air around us is heavy. "There's you. You're the exception to the rule."

  "Is that so?"