by Jolene Perry
off her face. “You’re pretty.”
Her cheeks are immediately pink. I love embarrassing her.
“And you make me really like white t–shirts.”
“What?” I glance down. “Is that totally boring?”
Her eyes aren’t on my face anymore. Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, and down my stomach. These light little touches push waves through me. Waves of feeling Kate. Waves of blissful distraction.
“Careful.” I’m trying to tease, but my voice isn’t working right because I want her. Really want her. And this is not the place or the time or the way we should be doing anything more than what we’re doing. “You have me really turned on.”
“Sorry.” She jerks her hand away.
I grab her hand, and slide our fingers together. Something about how small her hands are makes me feel stronger, tougher, good. “Don’t be.”
Our eyes meet again. Our lips meet again for not nearly long enough. “If I’m not home soon, Mom’s going to flip.”
“Okay.” But part of me doesn’t want to move. I want to hang with her in the backseat of my car. We could talk. We could kiss. Maybe I could show her how turned on I get around her.
Her hands go up the back of my shirt, and the heat of her about makes me insane with how I want her. I slide my hand under her shirt, and up her smooth side. She gasps and pulls me closer. Kisses me harder. We’re both totally out of breath when she sits back.
“Maybe you could pick me up again sometime?” She’s not looking at me, but at my lips.
Pick her up again? Like a routine? That thought sends a prick into me. I’m not sure what it is, but this is the whole attached, boyfriend thing I’m not sure I can do. I don’t know how to do. But I look over her sweet face, and remember her hands on me, and know I’ll happily come back for more.
“I’m sure I’ll end up back here sometime.” Her face falls, just slightly before she kisses me again and crawls out of the back. Guess I’m going to have to be a little more careful about what I say to her.
Okay. I’ve got the packet from the community college spread out around me on the counter, and the History Channel’s playing my favorite show—Mail Call. I’m trying to get excited about something, but it’s not happening. I’m supposed to see the counselor tomorrow, and I have no idea what we’re going to accomplish if I walk in with a blank head. There was a brief time I thought about teaching, but school wasn’t easy for me, so it’s probably not the best option. My career was taken from me, and it’s a hard thing to get over.
I turn off the TV, and shift my weight on the stool, hoping that it’ll help me focus.
A knock at my door rescues me from my thoughts.
“Come in!”
Jen steps in. I’m pretty sure this is a first.
“What’s up?” I ask as I drop my pen. It still feels weird to hold the thing with my left hand. My handwriting is like a second grader’s scrawl—another thing that goes on the list of things I can’t do anymore.
She closes the door but doesn’t really move into the room. I’m on a barstool in the tiny kitchen waiting for her to say something.
“About Kate.” She sighs and folds her arms, so I know it’s probably going to be something I don’t want to hear.
My nerves settle in. “Yeah?”
“She…” But now her brows are all pulled down, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jen look anything but put together.
I sit and let her be nervous.
“Look, she’s my best friend, and…” She pauses for so long I start to get frustrated.
“And?” I don’t want to have this conversation. I have no idea how to be a good boyfriend to anyone, especially right now, but I don’t want to let her go. Maybe I’m hopelessly selfish for wanting to be around her, or maybe we both need distraction. I don’t know, but I do know I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t really want anything to taint how good she feels against me.
“She has a lot going on right now.”
“Don’t we all.” It takes conscious effort for me to not throw the pen into a window or against the wall.
“Right. I…” She pushes out air. “I’m sorry. I know you’re family, but I barely know you and I’m—”
“Looking out for your friend.” I’m trying to keep out what I’d like to tell her, and I’d kind of like to tell her to butt out. She’s the one who set us up in the beginning.
“Yeah, um, thanks.” She starts to turn, but stops.
“Something else?” I start to fold my arms, but again, one fucking arm doesn’t cross well. And I have no idea what exactly Jen wants from me.
“We used to use this place once in a while for movies and stuff, and since you like her, I thought maybe we could do a movie night here or something?”
“Is this ’cause you want to spy on me with your friend or because you’re trying to tell me it’s okay that I like her?” Mostly I’m confused as hell.
“Umm…both?”
I chuckle, and her whole body relaxes.
“Thanks for being honest,” I say.
“Yeah. I guess let me know when’s good for you.”
“Friday?” Do I sound too anxious? I’m not sure.
“Probably Friday, yeah. Thanks.” She gives me a brief wave before walking out the door.
Kate has a lot going on? What can possibly be going on? Also, she didn’t seem very hesitant in the back of my car. I mean, I thought a kiss would be nice, but that was…well, it was enough to push down some of the walls I’ve kept up between us, that’s for sure. At least I have Friday night to look forward to.
13
Kate Walker
DEENA AND I SIT comatose in front of the TV. I’m still in shock over how Aidan made me feel in the back of his car. I’ve never been that way with a guy. I’ve never felt like that, like I wanted him to go further, and it’s crazy because I barely know him. And now I have this nervous anticipation over Friday and watching a movie at what’s sort of his house.
In Jen’s (now Aidan’s) small garage apartment was the furthest Shelton and I ever got—on a movie night. And that wasn’t all that far. Probably about on par with the backseat of Aidan’s new car. What’s with me?
“I’m so nervous.” Deena turns toward me, looking a little less pale than normal. I don’t think she’s been throwing up as much, but I’ve been pre-occupied.
“What’s up?” Do I want to know?
“Lane’s coming in this weekend.” She starts chomping on a fingernail—something I haven’t seen her do since she was in high school.
“And that’s good, right?” How long has she been here and not seen him?
“I hope so.”
“Well, I’m crashing at Jen’s on Friday. Movie night.”
Deena’s eyes are hard on me. “Aidan?”
I try so hard not to react, breathing slowly, and anything I can think of, but my stupid grin spreads anyway.
“Be careful with that boy.” She raises a brow.
“What boy?” Mom sets down two laundry baskets, and I can tell by the look on her face that not only is she about to butt in on our conversation, but she’ll want me to fold laundry as well.
“Aidan.” Deena grins poking me in the side.
This is kind of a dead giveaway that Deena and I may have talked about him once or twice, which is going to make it really difficult for me to convince Mom that he and I are no big deal—even though I don’t know what he and I are.
“He’s two years older than you.” Mom rubs her temple like she always does when stressed.
I push out a laugh. “Mom we’ve only…” Only what? Groped each other in the back of his car? Twice? Had a few sort of amazing moments while babysitting? Had a great day of driving around in silence while I skipped school? Can’t really talk to Mom about that.
“Only?” Mom prompts.
“Seen each other a couple of times. It’s not a big deal.” But as the words come out, I kind of think it is a big deal. At least it feel
s like a big deal.
“You split with Shelton not long ago and you two were together for quite a while.” Mom’s doing her eyebrow raised thingy that says—we both know this might not be the best idea.
I nod. “Yeah, but we were headed to different colleges anyway.” Because I’m getting out of here to join Jen at USC.
“And what are Aidan’s plans?”
“Mom! Seriously? I’m not marrying the guy! I’ve met up with him a couple of times and both were with groups of people!” No one else knows about the pick-up from school or the fabulous kissing in the back of his car. Just us. Us. Him and me. Me and him. His lips. My lips. His hand. My hands. And then I let out a giggle—not what I should be doing to convince Mom to let me spend time with him.
“Okay. Just remember that he’s dealing with a lot.” She frowns.
I pull in a breath and try on my best serious face. “Yeah. He lost his arm and a good friend. I get it.”
“You get it?” Her brows rise in disbelief.
No one could really understand what he’s been through, but he seems to be doing fine.
“Mom!” I’m completely exasperated. “When have you ever asked me so much about someone I may or may not even like?”
Mom shifts her weight to one leg. “Be careful. The age difference worries me, and so does his situation. I want you to know where I stand before you get involved.”
“Okay.” I fold my arms, and want to tell her that I think we’re done, but it probably wouldn’t be the smartest move.
“Mom?” Deena turns toward her. “Kate’s going to be in college next year. Two years is nothing.”
Wait. What? My sister who was worried a minute ago, is now okay with this?
Mom sighs and her eyes are on me. “We trust you, Kate.”
I can’t believe she’s pulling that card. “Mom.”
“Don’t forget to check your blood-sugar while you’re out with friends. You tend to forget.” She does this weird almost moving thing, but pausing long enough to maybe show me that I’m lucky for getting off so easy because she has more to say. I’m not sure that I got off easy at all.
Since I’m still practically on house arrest after my doctor’s appointment, and then my high blood sugar read at school, Jen’s very nicely visiting me between all her student government/overachiever activities and make-out sessions with her boyfriend.
Our legs stretch out in front of us as we sit in front of my bed. I’m not sure why, but it always feels easier to talk when we’re on the floor.
“Have you and Toby had sex?” I whisper. “You two have been… together a lot lately.” I’m assuming she would have told me, but we haven’t seen each other much the past few days.
“Not yet.” She bites her lower lip as she holds in her smile.
“But you’re thinking about it,” I urge.
She nods. “It’s like I’m scared, but it’s Toby, so I’m not scared, you know? I mean, I know he’s going away to school, and the thought of us not staying together sucks, but we’re both smart enough to know it could go either way. I’m at the point where I know I love him, and I know he’s always going to be the guy I loved in high school no matter what happens over the next four years in college, and…”
“And you trust him and want him to be your first,” I finish.
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“You guys still have all summer.” Only I’m pretty sure he’s staying in Oregon for college, and Jen and I are leaving.
“I know.” She smiles. “I know there’s a chance we could make it, but I realized it doesn’t matter either way because I love him right now.”
“Wow.” I lean my head on her shoulder. “He’s pretty awesome.”
“And you seem recovered.”
“From what?” I sit up.
She laughs. “Shelton.”
“Oh. Right.” I let out a breath. “It still sucks, but mostly because I wish he would have been honest with me, you know?”
“Because honesty is a big deal.” There’s this authority/mother tone in her voice that I’m not liking.
I lean away. “What?”
“Aidan really needs to know you’re diabetic if you guys are going to keep hanging out.” She purses her lips. “If you get all wonky it would be nice for him to know how to help.”
My jaw flexes in frustration. “I know. It’s just. It’s so nice to be around someone who isn’t always watching me for some sign of weakness. Does that make sense? I mean, especially right now with this whole text every blood sugar read to Mom and Dad. I’m tired of it all.”
Jen puts her arm around my shoulder. “It makes perfect sense, but the longer you wait, the more awkward it’s going to be.”
I nod. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll find a good time.”
Jen shakes her head. “You’re turning it into a big deal, Kate. Just tell him you carry a monster purse so you can check your blood sugar. No biggie.”
No biggie. Right. Because it’s not her that’s carrying half a pharmacy everywhere she goes.
14
Aidan Connelly
EVEN THOUGH I’M THINKING about Kate a lot, I’m also trying not to set up some ridiculous thing where I’m picking her up every day. I almost text her four times to say I’ll get her, which I can’t make a habit of, so I jump in my car and head to Mom’s house to prevent starting that whole high school smothering thing.
I pick up McDonald’s for the twins on my way, figuring that should buy us at least a few minutes of talk time, and maybe buy my mom a sanity moment.
Mom opens the door immediately after I pull up and gives me grateful smile as she takes the two Happy Meal boxes from my hands.
In about two minutes Mom and I are on the couch together, while the twins stuff themselves with McDonald’s.
“How’s Kate?” She jumps right in, which I guess is good since we’re always short on time.
I suck in a breath. “She’s…” And now I’m smiling. “I like her, but don’t know how—” To be a boyfriend. Or if I can be right now.
“How what?”
“I don’t know what she wants or how to give it to her, or if I should, or if I should be leaving her alone.” It’s all sort of a mess, and I probably shouldn’t be thinking about it so much. I have a lot of other stuff that really needs to be sorted out.
“You really, really like her.” Mom sits sideways on her couch, resting an elbow on the back.
“Why do you say that?” I slouch lower so I look more relaxed than I feel, but there’s probably no point in doing that in front of Mom. She always sees through me.
“Because you’re putting her first. Not you. If you didn’t like her as much, you’d just be enjoying yourself and taking what she can give.” Mom’s lips are pressed together, making her look even happier because she’s trying not to.
“Maybe. I feel like I’m still getting to know her, even though she just says the most random things. Like I get the surface her, and not the real her.” It’s something I don’t know if I fully noticed until I say it out loud. The cool thing is that I want to know her better, and she doesn’t make me too nervous like some of the girls I’ve been around. Maybe this is a place where our age difference will help me.
“Do you want the real her?” Mom asks.
“Yes and no.” It’s scary. And it shouldn’t be because she’s just a girl.
“Then you’re being as careful as you need to be.” Mom rubs the back of her finger up my cheek. She’s done this since I started shaving. It’s her way of doing something over the top Mom while still showing she knows how grown up I am.
“She’s so much younger, you know?”
“I’m close with my sister and I’ve spent a bit of time around Kate. I think she’s lived a lot more life than she’s letting on.” And something passes behind my mom’s eyes that makes me wonder if she knows something I don’t.
“Maybe. And now I feel like a total girl for over-thinking the whole thing.”
“I’m glad you a
re. The only thing that I’m going to warn you about with her age is to let her decide how fast you two move, okay? No pressuring the girl, or going too far too fast.” And this is the warning look. The one that says I might be in deep shit if I screw up.
I can feel a smile spread as I think about her hands under my shirt in the back of my car.
The back of Mom’s hand slaps my chest as she smiles.
“What was that for?” I laugh and hold my arm between us.
“It’s all over your face. Time to realize you like her a lot, and be careful, okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod as it all sinks in. “Okay.”
I step into the guidance counselor’s office at the community college, having no idea how Mr. Burn might be able to help me.
The guy behind the desk is as buried underneath glasses, beard, and button-up shirt as his desk is in papers.
This was supposed to be my first thing, but I don’t even know where I am on the list anymore, only that Kate’s now definitely on it—in as many places as I can fit her without jumping into a relationship too fast. Though, it might be too late for that.
“What can I do for you, Specialist Connelly?” He smiles, using my rank.
“Not specialist anymore, Mr. Burn.” I shake my head a bit surprised.
“I won’t agree to that.” He chuckles. “Sergeant Burn, 756th Infantry.”
And I relax. This guy will actually sort of “get” some part of me, even if he looks like a disaster.
“Nasty scrape you got there.” He gestures to my arm.
I grin. “Yeah. Scrape.”
“What can I do for ya?” He leans forward resting his elbows on stacks of papers.
“Tell me what I should do with my life?” I chuckle. Only laughing is about the last thing I feel like doing.
“What were you thinking of doing after the Army?” He gestures to a seat, and I take it.
“The Army.”
“Well, shit. Sorry soldier.” He flips a pen over in his hand a few times.
The guy’s cussing. Understanding. Not looking defeated by me being completely clueless.
“If that’s the case then my guess is that you want some sort of end goal, something to make all this school crap worthwhile.” He spins to his computer and starts hitting keys.