Finally, frustrated, she rolled onto her side with her hand wedged between her legs. All through high school, she’d had lots of experience lying awake late at night. Thoughts tossing, stomach lurching, focused on a physics test or the hopeless crush she couldn’t talk to or the college applications she’d sent out.
Usually, touching herself calmed her down. She’d disappear into a fantasy world where Diana Cooper was all confidence. Openly hot. Doing whatever she wanted with all the boys she wanted to do it with.
Now that the fantasy had become reality, reality was intruding on the fantasy. She couldn’t lose herself anymore.
Burrowing under the covers, she breathed in and out like Ian had taught her to do at the gym during tough stretches and weight lifts. In through her nose, out through her mouth. One deep breath after another, focusing on nothing except the next breath, until her eyelids went heavy.
*
She and the twins were kids, speeding through the neighborhood on their bikes, the wheels hardly touching the ground. Brendan ahead of her like always, but not too far, so he could keep an eye on her; Ian far ahead, popping wheelies, a bump away from soaring into blue sky or eating pavement. As she pedaled faster and faster, she gained ground on them, flying past Brendan first.
“I’ve never passed you before,” she squealed, giddy with excitement.
“Keep going, Di,” he urged. “Don't stop. Faster. Go. Go. Go.”
Brendan wasn't usually pushy like this. Encouraging, but pushy? Brendan? No. But his voice drove her on.
Her legs pumped faster. She was panting, wind whistling past, blowing her bangs off her forehead. Close to Ian now, gaining on him, passing him.
“Look at me!” she crowed. “Look, Ian! Are you looking?”
She glanced back over her shoulder, just to make sure he saw her moment of glory.
The bump that came shook her body. She flew into the air, over her handlebars, both twins staring at her, and landed with a thud.
She was naked, eighteen and grown-up, flat on her back on Ian's bed with all his posters looking down. A boy crouched over her — no, a man. Strong hands pinned her shoulders to the mattress.
“Oh yeah,” he whispered. “I’m looking.”
A hot tongue grazed her nipple. Her body seized up as she stared at Ian's face above hers. He hadn't moved.
“Brendan?” she gasped.
She felt for his solid frame close by. Her hand moved through air. But when she followed Ian's gaze, lust-drunk, she saw his brother’s head above her breasts.
Need coursed through her as Brendan sucked her nipple into his mouth, licking the puckered skin so softly she could barely stand it. Another mouth marked a much harder path down her body.
When she reached for Ian, he was air, just like Brendan. She couldn't touch him, couldn't grasp his shoulder or stroke his hair. But her skin felt every bruising kiss.
She groaned with frustration as Ian opened her thighs. His tongue was fire. Pure heat, pressed into her center. Pushing inside her, a single flame. And God, Brendan's tongue on her breasts, licking every slope of the soft mounds, was water, soothing her so Ian didn't incinerate her.
No. Not water. Not anymore. He was blowing on her skin, cool streams that made her nipples contract and her cunt buck desperately against Ian's ember of a tongue. Brendan was air, and air only fanned flames.
“O-o-o-oh,” she sighed shakily. She was soaring again, and she didn't know where she'd fall. “Oh God…”
“Keep going, Di.” Brendan lifted his head, and her grab to pull him back was like clutching at mist. But his pinch on her nipple — that echoed through her whole body. “Don't stop. Faster. Go. Go. Go.”
She was panting, wind whistling past, blowing her bangs off her forehead. When burning fingers met her clit, she arced and flew. Shaking, shuddering, crying out, falling.
Her heavy lids opened.
Dark. It was dark in her bedroom. Branches rattled against her open window, and rain spattered the screen. She was alone, soaked with sweat and arousal, her pussy spasming in an achingly intense orgasm even though she hadn't touched herself. Her sheets were plastered to her curves. A burst of lightning lit the sky.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please both be here. Be together.” Her hand went between her legs. Her clit was a point of concentrated desire, slipping under her fingers. “I don’t care how. Any way that works.”
Burying her face in her pillow, she gasped as pleasure rolled over her body. When she felt both twins inside her, hard and hot and moving, she cried out, peaking again.
As her breath slowed, she collapsed on the bed.
The rain was slowing too, getting lighter. After watching it run down her screen for a few minutes, Diana climbed out of bed, rubbing her eyes in disbelief.
She'd come in her sleep. That had never happened before. She wouldn’t have believed it, if she hadn’t experienced it.
Obviously it had been a dream, for Ian to get his tongue inside her like that.
Tiptoeing to the bathroom in the dark, she splashed cold water on her face and cleaned up as quietly as possible. She slipped on her robe and belted it tightly.
A board creaked on the way back to her room, and she froze. Every step felt like a secret. Finally, she unclenched her hands and made it back to her bedroom.
Pulling her old red journal out of her tote bag, she turned on the desk light and settled into the wooden chair. She’d spent hundreds of hours in this chair, working her way to the top of her high school class. But she hadn't sat at her desk since graduation day, when she'd rewritten her valedictory speech from scratch after Ian climbed in her window.
A few drops of rain speckled the desk, but the storm was over. Books were piled neatly on one side. Her laptop sat on the other side, barely used. Her purse hung over the back of her chair. She found a pencil and turned to the poem she'd written for Ian.
Crossing out a line in the middle, she rewrote it. She drew an X through the ending, erased it, then tapped her pencil on the last three words, doodling random swirls in the margin.
Keep going, Di. Don't stop. Faster. Go. Go. Go.
She'd really thought that if she repeated “Brendan equals brother” enough, he’d become exactly that, with no lingering feelings. Those feelings didn’t have a name, the territory that was more than lust, but less than love.
That territory lay miles away from what she felt for Ian. That comment she'd made about being old together — Jesus. She clapped a hand over her mouth, remembering her surge of surprise, Ian's silence, and his rough hug.
She'd showed him her poems. She'd never felt so bare in front of anyone in her life.
Closing her journal with a thud that made the loose papers crackle, she took off her robe, put on her most boring bra and panties, and found a clean T-shirt and a skirt that was full enough to bike in.
She pulled her purse off her chair and found her phone. She had years of experience with unfulfilled fantasies. This was just one more. Dreaming about the twins was smoke — something to blow away, not something to chase.
Phone in hand, she tapped out a text.
You awake?
A pause, then: Hell yes. What are you doing up, woman? There's no studying to be done in summer, did you get the memo?
Good. Marissa was a night owl. Diana had counted on her being up.
Chapter Eight
Empty streets gleamed under streetlamps, washed clean by the storm. Diana pedaled over the pavement, fast as she dared. She hadn’t risked taking one of her parents’ cars and waking them with the sound of the garage door. Then the questions would start, and she wasn’t in the mood for the most basic questions.
But as she biked, her dream spun through her head like an out-of-control movie reel. Deliberately, she slowed her pace and focused on the wet world around her. After midnight, slicked with summer rainfall, the familiar neighborhood looked changed. Eerie, yet peaceful. Other than one car passing by, she was alone.
When she pulled
up to Marissa’s house, she caught a flash of rainbow-colored hair. Marissa stood by the back gate, beckoning to her. Dandelions dotted the unmown front lawn. She walked her bike past the side of the house and left it against the gate.
Marissa’s one-story house was the quietest she'd ever seen it. All through high school, this had been the gathering place for parties and study sessions. Marissa's mom traveled for work, and as long as her daughter got good grades, she gave her a long leash.
The backyard was still and hushed in the storm’s wake. Strands of twinkle lights illuminated the leaning boards of the fence. Raindrops glimmered on the grass and trees, and fraying lawn chairs lay on their sides from the wind.
“The hammock’s dry.” Marissa pulled a blue tarp off the rope hammock in the corner of the yard. “Want it?”
“Let’s.” Diana settled into half the hammock, leaving space for Marissa, who raised her eyebrows.
Right. She’d never been the cuddly type. Least huggy person ever, Janelle had said. Until recently, that had been true.
“Sure.” Shrugging, Marissa got situated next to her. “Let’s smush. Ooh, you’re squishy, and I mean that as a total compliment.”
Diana snorted. Lying with Marissa in the swaying hammock, she watched the faint wind play with the tarp while Marissa lit a joint and turned the end around in the flame.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.
“Yeah? Did you have that dream where you’re not really done with high school? You have to dissect one more frog, or you owe a shitload of library fines? ‘Cause I’ve had that dream three times since graduation.”
“Me too, at least once. But no, different dream tonight.” Diana hesitated, then took the plunge. “A sexy dream.”
“Whoo!” Marissa cheered. “It’s about time. Details, please.”
“Uh…” She blushed and laughed. “Two guys.”
Marissa let out an approving whistle. “Damn. And you were the girl between them? Or you were watching them get it on? Or were all three of you going at it?”
Smoke rose over them, drifting into the trees. Heat trickled down her neck. “I was the girl between them.”
“Well, that is the dream. Don’t we all want that.”
“Really?”
“I’m not saying every woman does, but I sure do, and when I think about it—” Marissa lowered her voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I start with your neighbors. I know you don’t see them that way, and it’s never going to happen anyway, so try not to visualize it too hard.”
“Mmmph,” Diana said noncommittally. Could she tell Marissa? Once the truth was out there, she could never take it back. It wouldn’t be a secret, hers to control. “Would you ever want it to be real, or just a fantasy?”
“I don’t know.” Marissa waved the joint lazily in the air, tapping ash over the side of the hammock. “I’d have to really trust both the guys in real life, and they’d have to be comfortable getting naked in front of each other, and there would probably be awkward coordination issues. Not to mention the potential for jealousy. Like, Shaun and I aren’t anything official right now, but I would never mention this to him.”
“Real life is more complicated than fantasies.” Diana looked down at the moving ground as the hammock swayed. The grass was long and soft.
Marissa took a deep drag. “You’re not a virgin in any way now, are you?”
“No.” Diana trailed her fingers over the tips of the grass. “Not in any way.”
“Then here. Let me corrupt you some more.” Marissa handed her the joint.
Diana inhaled a bitter mouthful of smoke and leaned over the side of the hammock to cough.
“Smooth.” Laughing, Marissa kicked at the rope.
“Not all of us are experts at smoking up.” Diana handed the joint back, gulping fresh air. “I haven’t exactly made it a habit since the last time I tried it, which coincidentally was also in your backyard.”
“Okay, good.”
“What do you mean, good?”
The hammock rocked gently. When Diana turned her head to Marissa, she was looking up at the stars.
“All of sudden, like out of the blue, you’re doing things that I haven’t. I think there’s more you’re not telling me. Who’s going to be my most innocent friend?”
Diana was too surprised to answer right away. “You liked that about me? You were just talking about corrupting me some more.”
“Kind of. You had your shit together and you were staying pure. It was reassuring.”
“Trust me, it didn’t come from any deep beliefs.” She accepted the joint and puffed, imitating the way Marissa blew out a stream of smoke. “I was scared, that’s all. Scared of boys, of everybody.”
“How’d that change?”
Diana began to giggle. “Some nice people helped me out.”
“People?” Marissa looked stunned. “Did you just use the plural?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shit, Diana, how many guys are you talking about?” Diana laughed harder, rolling her head against Marissa’s. “That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? Is it just guys? Have you been with girls too? Am I losing my mind?”
“You’re not losing your mind!” She gasped for breath.
“Oh my God.” Marissa gave the hammock a push, making it swing crazily. “I’m freaking out.”
“Don’t freak out. The guy I told you about is the only guy now. He’s all that matters.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
Diana linked her fingers with Marissa’s, squeezing to calm them both down. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. You’re still my wildest friend.” Except the twins, who didn’t fit the friend box. Not either of them, not anymore.
“I’m not that wild, babe. You haven’t seen wild.”
“Actually, I have,” Diana murmured.
“Who are you?” Marissa blew out smoke and looked at her through the haze. “Like, seriously, who are you?”
“I’m still figuring that out.”
“Aren’t we all.”
“But I’m not Saint Diana.”
“None of us are. I still love you. You’ll always be the patron saint of nerds, no matter how much anal lube you carry around.”
Diana snorted. Her head felt heavy now, but it was expanding at the same time. It was strange, but nice. She rested her forehead against Marissa’s shoulder. It was so peaceful to swing in the hammock together, pushing back and forth. Marissa was humming a song. She joined in, but damn, she was feeling sleepy. Marissa’s long hair brushed her arm.
“Ian says your hair is three different colors,” she mumbled, “but I think it’s four colors.”
“Who?” Marissa murmured. “Who says that?”
Shit. “Oh, just people.”
“They’re wrong, babe. It’s four.”
“I should go,” Diana giggled. “It’s really late.”
“Stay over. Or I’ll drive you home.”
“Nuh-uh. You’re high and I have my bike. I have to get up early for work.”
“Yeah, like you aren’t high too, Ms. Second-Time Smoker.” Marissa rose on one elbow. “It doesn’t take much for you. I’m not letting you bike home alone at two am.”
“I like it! I like the risk.”
“I’m going to ask again: who are you?”
Marissa managed to convince her that she was fine to drive. Diana left her bike just inside the back gate, because there was no way it would fit in Marissa’s two-door hatchback.
“I’ll set my alarm early,” Diana yawned, as they passed quiet houses and flickering streetlamps. “I’ll jog over and get my bike before work.”
That got a sidelong glance. “You jog now?”
“Yep. I go to the gym every day, can you believe it? So I’ll just get up super early. You’re not that far.”
“Uh-huh.” Marissa steered the car into Diana’s driveway. “You do that. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Diana gave her a drowsy hug. “You know
I love you, right? I know I don’t usually say things like that. But I do.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Marissa laughed. “Next time you can’t sleep ‘cause you had a dirty dream, my backyard is your backyard.”
Diana blew her a kiss and climbed out of the car. Opening her front door as noiselessly as possible, she tiptoed inside her unlit house. As she headed into the kitchen for a bite to eat, or possibly all the pretzel sticks and peanut butter in the world, she met a dark shape in front of the open fridge.
“Dad?” she giggled.
“Diana?” Her father, in pajamas, blinked at her. “What are you doing up?”
“Just getting some food,” she said dreamily. “You too?”
“Yes. Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fantastic.” She drifted to the pantry, found the pretzels, and stuffed a handful in her mouth. “I just got really hungry. I’m going back to bed now. ‘Night.”
Her father gave her a strange look, but it didn’t matter. In her room, she sleepily got out of her clothes and stretched out in bed. She felt so relaxed now, and there was nothing to worry about. All she needed was sleep. Dreams were just dreams.
*
Sunlight, streaming through her window, woke her the next morning. She blinked, yawned, and tried to bury her face in the pillow for another minute of precious sleep. But the bright gold of the sunlight, the heat already rising in her room, forced her eyes open all the way.
Shit. She leapt out of bed and pushed aside the pile of clothes she’d dumped on her desk just hours before. Her purse lay underneath, her phone inside. She’d never set an alarm, she’d just passed out, and it was already 8:23. Seven minutes to get ready before she hopped on her bike to make it to the lab on time — except her bike wasn’t here.
Frantically, Diana threw on fresh panties, hooked herself into a bra, and shimmied into a green checkered dress — the same dress, she remembered, that Ian had eyed her in at the grocery store right after the twins got home from college for the summer. He’d smirked, she’d blushed, and she’d dashed off to hide in the produce section. That was, what, less than two months ago? Seemed like another lifetime.
The Girl in Between Page 11