Sanguine Mountain

by Jennifer Foxcroft

  The tension in my tiny room is weird. I’m too chicken shit to ask him what I really want to know.

  “Why did you come in my window?”

  He looks at me and the mischief in his eyes is back. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be spraying me with holy water or bashing me with bibles. Needed a quick escape.”

  ”I’m never living that down, am I?”

  “Nope.”

  “I have three words for you –B–N–F.” I grin.

  “They’re letters.” His eyebrows disappear under his hair.

  “Not sure you can handle the actual words.” I smile wider. “Bat. Nipple. Fiasco.”

  The smile that was on his face vanishes. He scowls, and I let go of the laugh I’m barely in control of. Just thinking about his little batty self with the nipple ring never fails to bring tears to my eyes. He stands up with his hands on his hips. He’s towering over me but hiding behind his hair, and I catch the tiniest hint of a smile threatening to ruin his intimidating demeanor.

  “I’ll meet you at the door,” I say, wiping tears of happiness from my eyes. We’re okay. It’s not weird, and he’s not mad at me for kissing another boy. It’s the best Christmas present I could ask for.

  I bring Rocks into the kitchen. Mini is in the corner, standing at the playpen fence her parents were forced to erect around the tree to save the presents being demolished before Christmas morning.

  “Stop!” Kelly shouts, holding her flour-covered hands in the air.

  What the …

  She’s standing on the far side of the island, smiling in a way that reminds me of a creepy serial killer when he spots his next victim.

  I glare. She starts pointing upward repeatedly. Following her gesture, I want to die.

  “Mistletoe,” she announces.

  Oh sugarplums.

  “So it is,” Rocks agrees. “What's it doing up there?”

  Bless him and his colony upbringing.

  Kelly reminds me of a wet firecracker. I try not to laugh. “Oh, you don't know what that means?”

  “Santa visits houses with mistletoe?” Mini’s ears prick up at the mention of the man of the moment.

  “Tanta. Tanta. Rocks.” She points over the barricade at the jolly man in red amongst the presents. Rocks goes to take a step in her direction.

  “Wait!” I’d give anything to take Kelly’s blood pressure right now. Her devious plan isn’t going quite the way I’m sure she envisaged. “It's tradition that you kiss the girl standing next to you under mistletoe.”

  It’s the second time tonight Rocks’ eyebrows have vanished. He looks at me wide-eyed and then back up at the mistletoe. I’d sell my soul to know what he’s thinking.

  Dad clears his throat in the other room. Kelly waits. Rocks bites his lip.

  “I'm sorry,” I whisper.

  “So I'm supposed to kiss Connie?” He points from the mistletoe to me.

  Kelly nods and clasps her hands in front of her chest. Chad moves from the lounge to his wife’s side; he’s frowning, and I know he will put an end to this madness. I make a mental note not to let Rocks drink the eggnog. Kelly must have taken taste-testing too far.

  Rocks turns to me, his eyes flick to my ears. I’m confident they match Santa’s outfit thanks to my conniving mother.

  “It would be an honor.” He places a soft kiss over my scar. He pauses when his lips make contact, holding them against my skin. The only part of my body that’s alive is where his lips touch. I slip my fingers into his and squeeze. Always the gentleman.

  Chad visibly exhales, and Kelly floats across to the oven, smiling. We stand for another moment under the mistletoe both of us fidgeting.

  “Rocks!” Mini is a lifesaver and breaks the tension.

  Dinner is not quite ready so we retreat to my room. Rocks stops just inside the door.

  “Was the whole forehead thing disappointing?” His voice is soft and warm.

  I face him. “Kelly will take what she can get, but I'm sure you've stepped up in Chad’s eyes.”

  He twists his fingers together. “Were you?”

  “Me?”

  He nods. I swallow. It’s now or never. If I don’t tell him, he’ll never know, and then I won’t be able to blame him for ‘flying’ with the Camazotz girls.

  “Yes.”

  Rocks looks up and his mouth drops open a little. “Does that mean you want me to kiss you?”

  “Yes.”

  He steps closer. I can feel him invade all my senses. My heart rate rockets causing my pulse to pound like the bass drum at the dance club. He smells so good—so safe—so Rocks.

  “You're nervous?” he notes.

  “I am, but it's not what you think. It's not about the Camazotz thing. It's about being a disappointment.”

  “Connie.”

  “No, I'm serious. I never know if you hang around because I know your secret or because you like me.”

  “You don't think I like you?” He gives me the evil eye. He’s been spending too much time with Kelly.

  “As more than a friend, I mean.” I shrug. “I don't even compare to those colony girls.”

  “You're right. You don't.” His fingers stroke down my cheek. I look up and we’re so close I notice how dark his eyes are. The blue is so dark it reminds me of a deep ocean before a storm. “It wouldn’t be fair to compare them to you. You’re everything they aren't. You’re what I need, Connie. You are the girl I choose. The question is who do you choose?”

  “You.”

  “A guy that can't even pick you up in his car and take you on a real date? A guy that's never even been to a movie theater or any place you take a girl?”

  “Yes. I want a guy that wouldn’t even hesitate to risk his life for me.”

  “I'd die if something happened to you.” There is pain in his eyes, but it leaves as fast as it appeared. I feel exposed watching his eyes roam my face.

  He lowers his head. I stand up on tiptoes to meet him half way. His lips are so warm against mine. He smells so good. Rocks hesitates and pulls back. I give him a little smile and wrap my arms as far around his shoulders as I can reach. He kisses me again, but this time doesn't hesitate to deepen it. His tongue tickles mine. I’m in heaven in his arms. All I can feel is Rocks. His body is so strong, secure, and lean. I could stay against him forever. This must be what Tiff goes on about. If I thought him kissing my neck was explosive, it’s nothing compared to the feel of his lips against mine.

  “Connie. Dinner’s ready.”

  Crabapples.

  Rocks is seated opposite me. Mini is in her highchair between him and Kelly. I can’t take my eyes off the beautiful boy who told me he has chosen me. I want to dance on the table. I want to run around the backyard without my coat on, howling to the moon. I want to be back upstairs with Rocks—alone.

  After too much food, we take down the tree barricade. Kelly has decided presents will be done while Rocks is here. Rocks suggests leaving so he doesn’t intrude on a family moment but is quickly told that he's practically part of the family. I don’t want to be sad on Christmas Eve at the mention of family. Between Thanksgiving and now, all I’ve done is obsess over the tainted blood in my veins. Do Kelly and Chad really know who I am and what it all means? I haven’t a clue, but what I do know is the people here are my family. It feels so freeing to finally think of them that way again. I can’t help where I ended up, and I need to forget the two people I secretly discovered in order to move forward and repair the bonds I’ve damaged with the ones that I love.

  “Mini, give this to Rocks.”

  “Mini?” she asks, eyeing the present in her chubby hands.

  “No, Rocks.”

  “Mini?”

  I point. “Give it to Rocks.”

  She waddles over, but before she parts with the red box, she checks again. “Mini?” Our laughter makes her grin.

  Rock grabs her around the waist and blows a raspberry on her cheek. She surrenders the box and heads back over to claim one she can keep.<
br />
  He rests the box on his lap and watches the gift distribution. Mini is learning the art of giving, and it’s becoming harder to get her to deliver gifts to their intended recipients. Rocks is stunned when a total of four gifts have his name on them—mine, Mini’s, one from my parents—calling them that again makes me smile—and Santa has left him a little something here as well.

  “All this? But …”

  My heart stutters twice. The boy that flew into my life is so generous of heart it astounds me. He never thinks of himself first, and he doesn’t see himself clearly. He always moans about how he’s not the right man for the colony job, but he’s a born leader—smart, caring, considerate and utterly selfless. The colony would be lucky to have him lead them into this century.

  I know he's worried that he hasn't bought gifts for us. I ‘helped’ him pick a gift for Mini. Handing it to him, I point to the gift tag. The look in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat, flip over backward and flutter to a stop. I want to kiss him so badly. Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text.

  Christmas another first?

  I'm rewarded with my favorite smile before he texts back. When I glance at Mom, she’s glowing. Thankfully, Dad is inspecting his new abseiling helmet.

  Another first I'm honored to share with my girl.

  Pouncing on Rocks in front of Dad would not be a wise move considering they’re leaving me home alone for three nights. It's best we don't draw any attention to ourselves.

  I like the sound of that.

  He beams, slips the phone into his back pocket and pulls out a velvet pouch from his vest. Mini is eventually persuaded to leave her stash and deliver the pouch to me. He apologizes to Mom—who waves him off with a flick of her wrist, claiming that letting her feed him was his gift to her—and starts unwrapping his stash.

  I watch him tackle mine first. It’s not new, but I know he’ll love it. Dad wasn’t using it since his upgrade anyhow, and I’ve added data to his plan.

  “A smart phone,” he exclaims, pouring over the cubed box. “Connie, you didn’t.”

  “It’s not new.” I shrug one shoulder.

  “But it’s my very own connection to the Internet.” I shift my eyes toward my parents. Internet access these days is a given. He follows my lead and puts down the box, but his eyes don’t leave it as he starts unwrapping the next gift. Santa got him an iTunes gift card; Mini got him a jumbo carton of Milk Duds and the eReader is from my folks. I haven’t felt this happy or free in a long time.

  Rocks’ fingers slide over each gift on rotation. He can’t stop touching them, and if I know him, he’s using all restraint not to rip into their packaging.

  The pouch contains a necklace, which I put on immediately. Resting over my throat is a silver filigree bat—his mark. The metal swirls and twirls to make exotic delicate wings. I’m never taking it off and can’t wait to thank him properly in my room. It’s breathtaking, just like the boy that created it.

  * * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come, Sweetheart?” Mom asks for the five millionth time.

  “Positive.” I’m doing my best not to shove them out the door and slam the locks into place. Just go already, I think to myself. Rocks is due in twenty minutes and they were supposed to be on the highway by now.

  The reunion weekend has arrived at last. They will be away for four days between now and New Year–two travel days and two days of drinking and remembering their youth. Thank God I’m not going.

  “The fridge is stocked.”

  “Lock the doors,” Dad commands—again. “Rocks visiting?”

  “Oh, you know, he might pop in.” I force myself to maintain eye contact. The man that I’m sure would feel strongly about a boy spending the night doesn’t need to know a boy is indeed spending the night.

  Rocks insisted that I shouldn’t be alone, and I didn’t put up any fight whatsoever—shortest text message conversation ever.

  “Well” —Dad looks at Mom, but she’s putting Mini’s bottle in her handbag— “behave yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” And finally, they’re gone. Flying upstairs, I rip off my winter pajamas. My wardrobe looks as boring as ever. What to wear when you’re home alone with your new boyfriend? I consider texting Tiff but that would eat up the last minutes I have to get ready. In the end, my jeans and a V-neck sweater win. I just have to be myself. I don’t have to dress to impress the way the Camazotz girls seem to do. Rocks has already picked me. The thought chases the butterflies from my stomach.

  Opening the door, Rocks is sweating slightly. His damp skin causes his hair to stick to his forehead.

  “You okay?”

  He looks kind of puffy. Blushing, he explains that he couldn’t carry a bag and is wearing four shirts, three pairs of underwear, six socks, and two phones. It’s a big load for a little bat. I show him to the guest room so he can shed the extra layers while I go investigate the contents of the fridge. He didn’t kiss me when he came inside, and I’m wondering when that’s likely to happen again.

  “Connie.” My name echoes down the staircase. “Got a second?”

  He’s been up there for a good ten minutes. I leave the spaghetti revolving in the microwave to go investigate.

  Walking into my room, my eyes instantly fly to my ceiling. Well, it resembles my ceiling except for the mini mistletoe forest that Rocks has hung all over it. My window is open, and there are leaves and berries littering my windowsill. The forest fills my senses.

  “I had to fly with this load too.” He stands in the middle of the room and slides his hands into his back pockets. Moving in front of him, I study him. He can’t contain his grin and bites his bottom lip. “It’s mistletoe, and we both know what that means.”

  I laugh. He’s the cutest boy on the planet, and he’s in my room wanting permission to kiss me.

  “I hadn’t noticed.” He pulls a face like I’m crazy for not noticing the extra greenery. “Remind me what it means again?”

  He hooks two fingers into my belt loops. “I get to kiss you.”

  “If you want to kiss me, you don’t have to go to so much trouble or even ask. Just pull me close and do it.”

  His eyes darken and his fingers pull on the loops, following my instructions until our bodies touch. I watch the tip of his tongue flick out but disappear back between those gorgeous lips.

  “One thing,” he says, looking at my hair. His fingers find my elastic and gently pull it free, allowing my hair to cascade around my face and shoulders. “So beautiful.”

  And then he kisses me hard. His hands cup my face. There is no hesitation like a few days ago. Rocks devours me. He wants me and he’s letting me know. I could die right here and I’d die happy. I match his intensity and soon we pull apart, needing air. Rocks blushes. “Wow. I’ve wanted to do that since the very first night in the forest. You hugged me, and all I could think about was kissing you.”

  “No way.” He smiles and nods. “So why did it take you this long?”

  “I wanted to so many times, but you seemed to emit a no vibe at me. I just got the feeling you didn’t want me like that. Am I right?”

  “Sort of. I could never believe that a guy as hot as you would want to kiss me—a boring run of the mill human when all those g—” A long finger moves over my lips interrupting my admission. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

  “You think I’m hot?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Am I good-looking in your opinion, Miss Connie Phillips?” His lips are hovering over mine but tantalizingly out of reach.

  “Yes! Yes, I think you’re crazy good looking all right?” I’m rewarded with a kiss, but it’s soft and sweet and makes my stomach flip.

  I turn my head and rest it against his satin vest. His heart is pounding and I smile, glad to know I’m not the only one reacting to our kisses. He wraps his arms around me, and I fold into him. Bliss—warm, safe, bliss. “I can do that anytime without asking?”

  I nod. “Connie. I've never felt like this before
.” He strokes my hair all the way down my back. The inferno inside me has ignited with force. I hold him tighter around the waist. “I'm so happy. I feel like something terrible is about to happen because I'm never allowed to be this happy without there being consequences.”

  He places a kiss on the top of my head. I shiver and Rocks closes my window.

  “Hey, Beans—”

  “Stop calling me that, “ I say between gritted teeth. I love my nickname, but our ritual involves me feigning irritation, and it’s been too long since that’s happened. “It makes me think of whether I need to fart or not.”

  My ears burn. I can’t believe I just said that. I’m so relaxed for the first time in a while it’s making me forget myself.

  The twinkle of mischief that I both love and am wary of appears in his dark eyes.

  “WHAT? GIRLS FART? NOOOOO!” He covers his ears, then his eyes and then clutches at his chest as though he’s having a heart attack. “OMG,” he says, mimicking Tiff, “you’ve shattered my image of you.” The window lock clicks, and he sits on the end of my bed opposite me.

  I roll my eyes and command the corners of my mouth to not curve up and encourage him.

  He suddenly gets serious and leans toward me to say quietly, “No, seriously. Camazotz girls—do—not—fart. It’s scientifically proven. Impossible.”

  “Ugh, I hate you.”

  I throw my old bear at him, but he just lounges back laughing.

  It’s familiar. I’ve missed us just hanging out and not fighting.

  Rocks pulls out both his phones. The lesson begins with inserting the SIM card and powering up. He already knows about apps from playing games on mine. We sit grinning at each other as the phone powers to life and connects.

  “So let’s start with searching on your phone. It's the same as the laptop.” I tap Safari. “What do you want to know?”

  He blows air out through his mouth. “So many things. You pick.”

  I start typing. Do male bats have—