by Lisa Loomis
“You can be the biggest asshole sometimes,” I said, heading for the door.
“Show me your tits,” he said in a raspy voice.
I froze and let his words register. Without thinking, I swung around, lifting up my shirt and bra, and flashed him.
“There you go,” I said, letting him get a good look at my boobs.
After his initial shock wore off, he leapt off the bed toward me, and I struggled quickly to pull my clothing back into place. What was I doing?
“You’re gonna show me, and not let me feel?” he asked.
Crazily I felt in control and I gave him a sexy smile. Two could play his game of friends. He suddenly took my face in his hands like he had at the beach. He looked in my eyes and then kissed me full on the mouth hard. When I didn’t pull away, his lips softened, and he thrust his tongue into my mouth hungrily. I found myself kissing him back, my tongue seeking his, sliding deliciously around his. Oh, how I’ve wanted this. His hands slid down my face, my neck, to my chest over my clothes feeling my breasts as he kept kissing me. I could feel the yearning between my legs as I reached under his T-shirt and ran my hands over his warm firm skin. My heart was pounding, my whole body reeling, feelings rushing, my head wanted to explode. Then as fast as he started, he stopped and pulled away. His eyes melted into me. He smiled lazily.
“Good kinda friendly that is,” he said.
He turned and walked back, sat down on the bed, and picked up his guitar. I stood there, dazed, my body quivering. My lips still felt his kiss. He watched me and waited. I put my fingers to my lips, wondering if they looked as puffy as they felt.
“Why did you ask me that?” I managed to say.
“I don’t know,” he answered, his thumb lightly strumming the strings.
I watched his fingers as thoughts spun wildly in my head. Was that a maybe kiss? I looked back into his eyes.
“I didn’t think you would do it,” he said, smiling up at me.
He was playing with me, and I suddenly saw red. I glanced around for something to throw at him, and the only thing close by was a flat weight he had taken off his barbell. I picked it up and threw it with all my might. I watched as a shocked expression slid across his face. Unfortunately, the weight didn’t go far before it hit the floor. When it did, we both watched as it rolled on its edge across the floor into the wall where it left a dent in the drywall before it fell and stopped. He looked up with a smirk. I turned and left the room. I went into the family room where Sara was and pretended to watch TV while I fumed.
“He can be a total jerk,” she said.
More than a total jerk I thought. I didn’t answer. If Mathew wasn’t aware of my feelings, I think Sara was at least. Mathew pestered his sister and brother a lot and in general Sara would fight back. She didn’t have a lot of tolerance where Mathew was concerned.
“Friends. Good friends?” His words constantly claiming one thing while his actions were more than that. “Good friends” he always made a point to say, leaving the possibility of any other title out of the question. I thought about his kiss. Did he know it was my first French kiss? Had I done it right? I couldn’t get the whole incident to stop replaying. Why did I kiss him back? I should have pushed him away in disgust, said no. He had to have some idea of how I felt, or he wouldn’t kiss me like that. I smiled, recalling his shocked expression when I flashed him.
The time dragged on until my parents were ready to go. I could hear Mathew playing his guitar when we walked out the front door.
Chapter 14
“That’s just not right,” Gayle, said when I finished telling her the story.
She thought the weight story was hysterical.
“You at least should have thrown something you had a chance of hitting him with,” Gayle chuckled.
“It was the only thing close by,” I laughed. “I wonder how he will explain the dent in his wall. ‘Yeah, Mom, Morgan threw a weight at me because I asked her to show me her tits, and then I rammed my tongue down her throat’.”
I laughed again. The vision was pretty funny.
“What’s his deal with you?” she asked.
“Who the hell knows? I don’t get it, Gayle. Okay, so he’s a stupid boy, but I’m a stupid girl. Why did I show him my tits? 'Cause I wanted a reaction. Got one of those all right. I should hate him, and now I only want him more. I’m screwed.”
I knew I would have to face him sooner or later at school. I originally thought it would be easy to distance myself. We had no class’s together and limited time in the halls, but it took much more effort and calculation to stay out of his path than I had anticipated. Gayle acted as my safety, diverting me to another hall or into the girls’ room to avoid running into him. I kept up this game for two weeks before he caught me.
“Morgan, wait up,” Mathew called.
I had just opened my locker to trade my history book for math when I heard him. It was inevitable we would see each other again so I might as well face him now I thought. I watched as he walked toward me, and I quickly changed books, slamming my locker shut. I turned toward him, hugging my math book to my chest.
“What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound very casual, unlike what I was really feeling.
I’d pushed the butterflies down and now I just felt a dull ache around my heart. I hadn’t talked to him since our incident. Being a silly naïve girl I thought the kiss might change things, make him realize he did like me, but it hadn’t happened. I guessed things like that only happened in the movies.
“I want you to introduce me to that friend of yours, Janice,” he said.
Janice? Janice? I was confused for a minute. Then I pictured Janice. She was beautiful: long brown hair, olive skin, green eyes, nice figure. She didn’t act stuck up like some of the prettier girls, and she was actually very nice. We weren’t super close, but she hung out with the group I did.
“Why would I want to do that?” I replied, not wanting to hear.
“Because I want to get to know her,” he said.
He kind of tilted his head and glanced apprehensively at me and then away. I could tell by his discomfort that he wanted more than that. There it was staring me in the face. Mathew wasn’t afraid to like somebody that way, that someone just wasn’t me. I hugged my book tighter to my chest, trying to push back at the pain I felt. The dull ache transformed into a vice grip on my heart and I felt a tightening rise up into my throat. He stood, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for me to respond. The emotions swirled inside me, making me feel nauseous. I swallowed hard as he lifted his hands up in a questioning gesture.
“Well?” he asked, cocking his head.
“Fuck you,” I said, turning away from him as I headed to my next class.
He didn’t call or come after me as I marched down the hall. I had always pretty much gone along with Mathew’s requests, so I think he was shocked by my response. I was shocked at my response. I thought about it all through math. Mr. Stark was doing problems on the board, which I knew I should be listening to. Mathew had not said we were anything but friends, so why had I expected anything different. I had hoped that would change with time; it hadn’t. I thought about his kissing me and wondered why for the millionth time. A lot of what he did, didn’t make sense.
Mathew didn’t wait for me to come around and introduce him to Janice; he did it himself. I had to admire the fact that he went after what he wanted, didn’t play games there. Seemed any game playing he reserved for me. I started to realize the times he touched me or kissed me or teased me were nothing more than Mathew seeing if he could. After all, he usually got the reaction he wanted. I apparently was the one who made it more in my mind.
Hadn’t Gayle warned me it didn’t mean anything to him? I hadn’t wanted to face that possibility. In no time, he and Janice became an item. Janice still was my friend. It wasn’t her fault Mathew wanted her instead of me, but I realigned myself with other girls in order to not be so close to it. I watched them hold hands in the halls an
d every now and then would catch him kissing her. I made excuse after excuse to not go with my mom or my family to the O’Conner’s. After one too many excuses, Mathew called me on the phone when my family was at his house minus me.
“Morgan, are you not coming over because of me?” he asked.
“No. I’ve been busy,” I said with as little emotion as I could manage.
I didn’t want him taking any credit for my actions. I truly wanted to be mad at him, but I couldn’t be. The sexual sparring between us had not only been perpetuated by him, hell I’d encouraged it. I wasn’t some frail weak girl that couldn’t say no. I’d never been forced to go to his room, or watch him play his guitar, but I had.
“Or have too much homework, or whatever else, you want to use as an excuse so you don’t have to see me,” Mathew said.
“Oh, Mathew, here you go making it all about you.”
“Morgan, I’m not entirely sure what I did wrong, well maybe asking you to show me your tits that night,” he chuckled. “Seriously, I miss seeing you, talking to you. I care about you, and honestly, I don’t want anything to change.”
I sat down on the wooden desk in the kitchen with the phone to my ear. I missed him too, but at a much higher level. Just because I hadn’t been around him didn’t make me stop thinking about him. I rested my forehead on the brick wall and took a deep breath. How did I feel? I wrapped the phone cord around my fingers. He missed my friendship? Mathew waited on the other end patiently.
“Not entirely sure? What are you sure of, Mathew?” I asked.
“I’m sure you’re irritated with me. I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m with Janice. Am I close?” he asked.
“Mathew, it’s so much more than you know, or pretend to not know, because it’s easier that way for you…” I started.
I knew it was time to get some of the shit off my chest and make some rules. I couldn’t avoid him forever, I didn’t even want to.
“Are you ready for me to be honest?” I asked.
“Yeah, let me have it,” he said.
My heart started to race, honest you get then.
“If you haven’t fucking figured it out, I’ve had a crush on you since we met. Remember the Jeep tour at the ranch? It started there. We were twelve.”
“Morgan—” he tried to interrupt.
“NO! Shut up. Let me get this out. You have given lots of mixed signals or maybe I misread them, but I don’t think so. In either case, I have at times thought you had feelings too. You coming into my world—and it was my world—at Bret Harte has been fucking hard for me, okay?”
I had to stop a minute to fight the tears. I put my hand over the receiver and took in a lung full of air and blew it out.
“When you started dating Janice, it got harder,” I said, my voice cracking slightly.
I heard him sigh, but he kept silent. I swallowed hard.
“I kept thinking—make it stop—and then I realized it was my feelings getting in the way. You hadn’t ever called us anything but friends. So I’m getting over it. Mathew, I’m working on getting over you,” I said forcefully.
He sighed again and I could tell he wanted to say something.
“Don’t talk, Mathew, let me finish. Let’s lay down friends as the rule. With friends, there are no cross-overs, no mixed signals anymore.”
I paused, pushing my forehead into the brick wall, feeling the hard surface push into my skin, hoping it would numb the other pain in my heart.
“No feeling my tits, no kissing me, okay?” I said softly, sadly. “That’s it I’m finished.”
I waited for his response. He was silent for a minute and I wondered what he was thinking. Although it was out now I didn’t think it was a total surprise.
“Morgan, I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.
“No sorry,” I cried, hanging up on him.
Now when we went to the O’Conner’s, I got to hear about Janice and their relationship, their arguments, when they first had sex. I would be his friend and listen, as hard as it was sometimes. My heart would be bruised, and with each bruise, it would toughen. I learned to pull away from him emotionally, to protect myself. I learned how to stay away from him at school. It wasn’t as easy when we had functions with the O’Conner’s and the rest of my parents' group. But I worked at it.
Mathew and I would continue our talks, and he would play his guitar. I unwillingly came to understand our relationship as friends. I was his confidante, and he mine. I slowly began to trust he would honor my request. I hated that I was still attracted to him. Mathew and Janice would ultimately break up, and another pretty face would replace her. I would get to be the sounding board for the next girlfriend and the next, and then Mathew broke the rules and turned the tables on me.
Chapter 15
Lots of kids at school had parties when their parents would be gone—out of town, at their own party, whatever. We were always trying different things to get high, but most of the time, it was alcohol when someone could get it. Tonight the party was at Kevin's because his parents were out of town for the weekend, and I'd heard there would be a keg of beer. Lucky for me, Keri always liked the high school guys, so it made it easy to get places, and I bummed a ride with Keri and her new boyfriend.
Once we got to the party, we went directly to the backyard. It was a nice evening and that is where most of the people were, as well as the keg. Kevin was pouring.
“Hey, Kev,” I smiled, giving him a hug.
“You look nice,” he said as he wrapped his arm around me with a nod and a hey for Keri.
We talked for a while before he was pulled in another direction. I went to fill up my cup before leaving the keg. Picking up the nozzle, I squeezed the black lever, and watched the beer come out fast and foamy.
“That’s what happens when you squeeze too hard. You have to go slow,” Mathew said as he took the nozzle out of my hand, extending his hand for my cup.
He was talking about more than the beer tap, and he knew I knew it. A lazy sexy grin spread across his face as he tipped the cup sideways a bit and squeezed the lever slowly, letting the beer run down the inside of the cup. When it was full, he handed it to me, then grabbed another cup and poured himself one.
“The expert has arrived,” I teased.
He knew the party scene, always being invited to whatever was going down. Mathew was between girlfriends for the moment, meaning no jealousy fits tonight, which was pretty typical of his girlfriends because he flirted. I was happy to see him. I couldn’t help but notice he looked really sexy, and as usual, he smelled good. Not like some of the guys who went overboard with cologne.
“Let’s sit over there,” he suggested, pointing to a rocker swing sitting further out in the backyard.
I followed him over the grass to the swing. We both sat down carefully to not spill our beer. Once seated, he shifted closer to me. I loved that Mathew and I had the ability to pick up where we left off whenever we were together. There hadn’t been many awkward moments since our being honest conversation.
“God, the break up with Silvia was ugly,” he said and then took a sip of his beer.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She caught me kissing another girl at Randy’s birthday party,” he said seriously, like no big deal.
“Oh, and there shouldn’t be a problem with that?”
I didn’t expect an answer.
“Mathew, do you not see what an asshole you can be?” I asked.
“I know, and so do you,” he joked.
I laughed.
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
“To you, maybe,” I said, offended.
“It was time anyway,” he said.
“Mathew, if you want to break up with someone, just do it. Don’t humiliate them.”
Other people would drift by. Conversations would take us in different directions. But Mathew stayed, and we would pick up again when people moved on. It was sort of unusual for him not to be mingling, and flirting with girls.
“Mathew, are all the girls good for you? This flavor of the month thing you seem to have going.”
“What kind of question is that? Any girl is good,” he chuckled.
“You think?” I asked, puzzled.
Not just any girl was good, not me for one.
“Give me your cup, I’ll get us another beer. Stay here,” he commanded.
I watched him walk back to the keg and fill our cups. I saw Kevin approach him, and they talked. Then Kevin lit what looked like a joint, and I watched them pass it around. It was definitely marijuana as the smell worked its way to me. I pushed at the grass with my foot, making the swing take me backwards and forwards slowly. My grandmother had a swing like this. I loved sitting on her swing with her when I visited. It was soothing, calm somehow, the way I felt now. I thought I had finally lost him to the crowd, along with my beer, when he strolled back.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me a full beer.
“I thought you’d abandoned me. Not that it would be so bad, but you had my beer,” I teased.
He smiled his mischievous smile.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” he said as he took my hand and pulled me from sitting to standing.
I followed him as he led me to the house and in through a glass sliding door. It was dark inside, and I realized it was a bedroom. As my eyes adjusted, he locked the slider and then went and locked the door into the house. I giggled, feeling slightly drunk.
“Shh,” he said softly.
“What do you want to show me?” I whispered, as I moved to turn on the lights.
Mathew stopped me before I reached the switch. He took my beer, setting it on a nightstand I could barely see.
“What?” I whispered as he pulled me to him.
It completely threw me off guard. He kissed me softly, hesitantly. Morgan, no I said to myself. Tell him, fuck no. He had followed the rules since I set them. I was forced to follow them.
“Cross-over,” I whispered. “Mathew, damn you—”