“What?”
“We’re strong testosterone-pumping males. Born to hunt and gather. We live for the chase. Maybe you like the challenge more than the girl.” Like a dog hypnotized by a piece of meat, his gaze caught a tall redhead wearing a bright green bikini walking by. “Excuse me while I go be a man.” Jogging toward the girl, he stopped halfway, turned with raised arms, curled biceps, and shouted, “Hunt and gather!”
As I watched Travis sidle up next to the redhead, I thought about what he said. Was it the challenge that drew me to Tweet? It did seem like my feelings were getting stronger the more she pushed me away. I got turned on when I looked at other girls but I figured that was natural. I was jacked up on hormones. Tweet was the only girl who stayed in my head and in my dreams. Even when I looked at other girls’ bodies, once I moved up to their faces they all looked like Tweet.
I’m so fucked up. Maybe Travis is right.
All of a sudden, a pair of hands pushed down on my shoulders.
“Boo!” There was no mistaking that drawl.
“Hey, Brittani.”
“Hey, Noah.” She cocked her head to one side.
“What’s up?” I asked, trying hard not to stare at her body popping out of her bikini.
“My body temperature.”
She plopped down beside me so close that we were touching from our shoulders all the way down to our legs. The white multi-colored polka-dot bikini top pretty much just covered her nipples while the striped short shorts she had on sat low on her hips.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, it’s pretty hot out here.”
“It is now that I spotted you.” Leaning back, she propped herself up with her hands, pushing her tits up, out, and really close to my bare upper arm. She looked from side-to-side and asked, “You alone?”
“Um… Travis and I c-ame out to s-urf,” I stammered.
Brittani had always made me nervous when we were alone, which wasn’t often. She’d corner me at my locker or outside school sometimes, but we never really hung out. She was a lot more forward than any other girls at school and from all accounts, a lot more experienced. I struggled to stay focused on the ocean but my gaze kept drifting back to multi-colored polka dots.
“What about Ana?”
My eyebrows scrunched together before I realized who she was asking about. “You mean Amanda.”
“Whatever. She just always seems to be around you.”
“She didn’t want to come today.”
“She passed up the chance to see your hot body all wet and glistenin’?” Brittani sucked her lower lip into her mouth.
“I guess.” I flashed a shy smile.
“I’d never turn you down, Noah,” she said, running her fingernails down my arm. Standing, she held her hand out. “Walk with me.”
My gaze traveled up her long tanned legs to her thighs, over her curvy hips, and up to her huge tits. I felt the familiar twitch in my swim trunks. When I finally turned to her face, I saw plain regular blue eyes, not gorgeous teal ones. Maybe it was time for a new challenge.
I placed my hand in Brittani’s. It felt gritty with sand, not soft and warm like Tweet’s. As she helped me stand up a deafening squeaky laugh escaped her. Tweet had a great laugh. It started out deep in her throat and rose to the perfect pitch with a snort thrown in here and there.
I need to stop this shit. I need to get Tweet out of my head.
Brittani and I headed toward the pier. She walked slightly ahead giving me a good view of her body. I concentrated on the sway and bounce of her ass. We didn’t talk, which was fine with me. She led me to a secluded area under the pier. Stepping forward, she pushed me back until I was against one of the posts. My gaze darted around, checking if we could be seen. I felt a gritty hand touch my rapidly pumping chest.
“You know I’ve always liked you,” she said in a husky voice.
I choked out, “Yeah?”
“You’re the hottest guy at school. You’re even hotter than a lot of the seniors.”
For some reason I looked everywhere except down at Brittani while I felt my breathing getting shallow, my skin burning up, and my dick getting harder.
“Noah, have you ever kissed a girl?” she whispered.
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“I mean really kissed a girl?”
“I’m fifteen. Of course I’ve really kissed a girl.”
My girl.
Closing my eyes tight, I desperately tried to erase any thoughts of Tweet. I may not have been sure what she was to me anymore, but I knew for sure she didn’t want to be mine.
I could feel how hard Brittani’s nipples were through her bathing suit as she pressed her body against me.
Rubbing her tits up and down my chest, she asked, “Have you ever touched a girl’s tits?”
“No.” I breathed out.
“You wanna touch mine?”
Looking down, I completely bypassed her eyes and landed on her chest. “Yes,” I said, my voice gravelly and barely audible.
The blood pulsing through my body drowned out all other noise. I couldn’t believe what was happening. It was like my dreams were coming true except this was the wrong chest and girl.
Fuck! Get your head in the game, Stewart.
Brittani’s fingers wrapped around my wrists. She lifted my hands and placed them on her tits. I gave them a little squeeze. In that second, all the blood and heat in my body concentrated in my dick, causing it to push against my swim trunks. The pressure was building fast and becoming painful. Removing her hand from mine, she reached for the strap of her bikini and slid it over her shoulder. I attempted to take a deep breath without success. I was becoming lightheaded. I tried to step back, but my back was plastered against the post. I felt trapped, suffocated, and ready to explode.
“Stop!” I said through gritted teeth.
“Why?”
“I feel sick. It must be the tacos Travis and I grabbed on the way here. I gotta go.”
Dropping my hands, I wedged myself free and took off running, never looking back.
I found Travis, pried him away from the redhead, and told him I needed to go home. The second the car pulled into my driveway I jumped out and ran into the house. My chest hadn’t stopped hurting and the knot in my stomach grew bigger every time I thought about what had happened with Brittani. I couldn’t even look her in the eye. I was worried I’d see Tweet’s face but scared I wouldn’t at the same time. I wanted to be alone and forget this day ever happened.
I headed down the hallway. I almost made it to my room until I heard my dad’s voice calling me as I passed his home office.
“Noah.”
I stopped, tilting my head up to the ceiling. After a couple of deep breaths, I reluctantly backtracked until I was standing in the doorway.
“Yeah?”
“Where’ve you been?” he asked while clicking through something on his computer.
“Travis and I went to Folly to surf.”
“Were the waves… gnarly?”
Chuckling, I answered, “Yeah, the waves were super gnarly.”
My dad was great even though he could be a dork sometimes. He knew it and never made any apologies for it.
“Good. You need to pack as much fun into this week as possible. Summer school starts next week, right?”
“Yes sir.”
“Were you able to get into the AP Science class?”
“Yes sir.”
He swiveled his chair in my direction. “Noah, I know college seems like a long way off and studying isn’t exactly the most fun way to spend your summer. Your sophomore year is important. It’s one of the first steps in building a strong and solid foundation for your academic career. Not only do your grades count but also your extracurricular activities like baseball. It all plays a hand in showing universities how well rounded, dedicated, and hardworking you are. You’ve got to stay focused.”
“I know and I will.”
“Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time later f
or all the other stuff like girls. I was young once, about a million years ago.” He smiled and gave me a wink.
It wasn’t unlike my dad to have these impromptu father-son chats, but the fact that he mentioned girls was weird. Could he tell I had just touched my first set of tits? I needed to get to my room.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Dad. I’m focused.” I turned to leave.
“Oh, by the way, I got our tickets to Fenway and the flight booked today. So, the summer won’t be all work.”
“Awesome.” I made my second attempt to leave.
“Noah.”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I’m very proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
Walking to my room, I wondered if he’d be so proud of me if he knew what a total asshole I’d been today. Not only did I argue with Tweet but I touched a girl that I didn’t even like just because I was hurt and pissed off. Definitely nothing to be proud of.
After supper I was at the sink rinsing off dishes before loading the dishwasher, staring out the window. Tweet’s house was basically the reversed layout as ours, the kitchens faced each other with matching over-the-sink windows. Ever since we were tall enough, we’d look out the window to see if the other one was doing the same thing. We’d jump up and down, dance, and wave like crazy people trying to make each other laugh. I tried like hell not to look over there tonight, but when Tweet was involved it seemed as if my body did what it wanted to do.
The florescent light above the window shined down on her. No makeup, hair pulled back with several pieces falling into her eyes, and she was still the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I could see her only from the shoulders up but I knew she was washing dishes. Her parents never did get a dishwasher. Raising her forearm, she brushed the hair back. Her hand grazed the tip of her nose, leaving behind a blob of suds. A smile appeared across my face as I stared, willing her to look up at me, but her eyes stayed down, focused on the dishes. I finally tore myself away from the window and forced myself not to look out of it every time I passed by.
After finishing kitchen cleanup duty, I grabbed the trash bag, flipped on the outside light and headed out the back door. I froze when I got to the bottom of the steps. For the first time since this morning I could breathe. Tweet was sitting on the patio swing in my backyard. Not saying a word, I tossed the bag into the trash and then walked over to her. She stopped swinging long enough for me to sit down. We glided back and forth for several seconds in awkward silence.
Tweet twisted her body away from me and picked up something beside her. When she turned around, she was holding a packet of Little Debbie chocolate Swiss rolls. A huge grin stretched across my face. She tore open the plastic wrap and handed me one of the cakes.
“I’m really sorry about today,” she said. Her voice was low.
“Me too.”
“We’ve never argued before.”
“I know.”
“You walked out on me.” From the corner of my eye, I saw bright teal eyes look over at me.
“I did and you didn’t come after me.” I turned my head in her direction.
“I didn’t, did I?” Silence. “Let’s not do that again. Okay?”
“Okay.”
We tapped the Swiss rolls together as if making a toast, and just like that, we were back to us. At least this version of us, whatever that was.
The rest of the night was spent on that swing, talking and laughing. At one point, Tweet shifted closer to me and laid her head on my shoulder. Our hands rested side-by-side on top of our thighs. I flipped mine over, palm side up, hoping Tweet’s hand would slide on top. I’d heard that if a person focused all his attention on an object, he could get it to move just by the sheer power of his mind. That’s all bullshit. I put every ounce of energy from my body, mind, and soul into that one slight movement. Her hand stayed still, just like the door had stayed closed earlier that day. Travis’s words from earlier crossed my mind, that I liked the big challenge of trying to get the girl more than the girl herself. At first, I thought that he might have a point. But when I walked outside and saw her waiting for me on the swing, I knew that the only challenge I’d face would be if Tweet wasn’t in my life.
“Okay. I only have one more question then I’ll set you free.” She glanced up at me with that sweet shy smile I couldn’t get enough of.
The varsity baseball coach had been impressed with my playing during freshman year and had asked me to try out for the team. I didn’t think I had a real chance of making it, I was only in my sophomore year. You usually didn’t play varsity until junior year. My dad taught me never to turn down an opportunity. Even though I was pretty nervous, I showed up for tryouts, and wound up making the team. The school paper had asked Tweet to write an article. I knew they asked her because we were friends. Tweet had been to every game I’d ever played in, but still knew zero about baseball.
Not much had changed between us. My feelings for her were just as strong, if not stronger than ever before. Her feelings for me had apparently not changed either. She continued to limit our time together and as far as touching her, that was almost nonexistent. The only thing that had changed over the summer was that I had become an even hornier bastard with a little more confidence and less patience.
Toward the end of the summer I started spending more time with Travis. Hanging out with him always involved girls at some point. We went to the movies with some, the beach with others, or hung out with a few at his house. All the girls were cute and seemed nice. They flirted with me. I held a few hands, touched a shoulder here and there, and even hugged one or two. Several of them had made it clear that they really liked me and wanted to make out. I got close to going with a couple, but when I looked into their eyes I froze.
These girls wanted boyfriends who took them on dates, gave them flowers, and looked at them as if they were the only girl on the planet. I couldn’t do any of that, at least not with them. Travis gave me hell about it all the time. He kept telling me that I needed to release the beast within, forget about Tweet, and give other girls a chance. I tried.
After that day under the pier, Brittani and I met up a couple more times during the summer, once at the beach and again at a party. It happened when being around Tweet and not touching her got to be unbearable. I was lonely and the hormones were making me nuts. I needed a release and Brittani was more than willing to lend a hand. She was different from most of the girls at school. She didn’t want hearts and flowers. She wanted to do whatever and whomever when the mood struck her. She had one goal in life and that was to have as many guys standing in line waiting to release their beast with her.
We basically rubbed up against each other, she let me touch her, and then we would go our separate ways. I attempted to kiss her a few times but always chickened out. She’d whine about it and I’d give her some excuse like my throat was sore. I didn’t know what was more lame, my excuses or the fact that she bought it every time. I felt guilty enough doing what I was doing. I tried hard to convince myself that I had no reason to feel guilty, but deep down I knew it was a lie. I had a reason and it was right beside me gnawing on her pen.
We were sitting halfway up the bleachers at the school baseball field. Tweet was going to be a great journalist. She was able to set the mood so that the interviewee was comfortable. She knew I loved being out here and had decided this was the perfect place for the interview. She seemed really nervous today. Other than an occasional glance, she hadn’t looked at me directly. I wondered if she had heard the rumors about Brittani and me.
She stopped snacking on her pen and continued with her questions. “What made you first fall in love with the game?”
“My dad. He loves the game. He introduced me to it when I was four years old. That’s when I watched my first game on TV, sitting next to him on the sofa with a liter of orange soda and two huge bags of chips laid out on the coffee table.”
I smiled thinking about how excited my dad got about all things baseball.
He was like a little kid.
“I don’t remember who was playing. It didn’t matter. What mattered was I got to spend time with my dad sharing something that he loved.”
I looked out over the field.
“The first couple of years I played T-ball and little league—I liked playing the game, but the best part was always the time he and I spent together. No matter how busy he got at work he would make it to every practice and game.”
I remembered getting up in the middle of the night as a kid, and seeing the light on in Dad’s home office. He was making up the work he missed in order to be at my practice or game. My dad was great and I loved him for all the sacrifices he made. I felt a lump forming in my throat. I swallowed hard a couple times before I continued.
I’m such a pussy.
“When I was six, he took me to my first pro game at Fenway Park. The Red Sox played the Minnesota Twins, 9-1, Sox. I was in awe of everything—the players, the stadium, the field, the stands, the dugout, the food, even the parking lot,” I chuckled. “My dad gave me one of the best days of my life.
“As far as the game itself, I love everything about it—the teamwork, the way the bat feels in my hand, the sound of the ball hitting the leather glove, the smell of the grass, and the concession stand food. I love looking up into the stands, seeing the fans and the most important people in my life.”
I turned back toward Tweet and caught her staring at me. Our eyes locked. The last time she let me look into them felt like a lifetime ago. I couldn’t read her look. It didn’t matter, though. The only thing that mattered was that she didn’t look away. Her hair was down. One side was tucked behind her ear with the other falling down the side of her face and curling under her jaw. The wind had blown it into a tangled mess that was incredibly hot. I wanted to touch her so badly it made my chest ache. Digging my fingers into my thighs, I fought the urge to reach up and brush her messy hair off the side of her cheek.
I cleared my throat and said, “Sorry Tweet. I didn’t mean to ramble on.”
Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) Page 6