What If

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  He shook his head. “Did you put anything on to help with the burn?”

  I grabbed the bottle of aloe from the bedside table. “I’d planned on covering myself with this gunk before you arrived.”

  He held out his hand for the bottle. “Lie on your stomach. I’ll do your back.”

  “It’s a good thing I wore a one piece. Can you imagine my burn if I’d worn a bikini?” I lay down, placing my head on my arms, and turned to check my clock. It was barely ten thirty, and already I felt beat.

  Pete squeezed out the gel. He lifted my loose-fitting, gray tank top until it came under my chest and circled a finger in the middle of my back. He didn’t drop a huge puddle of aloe on my skin that would make me cringe from the cold. I could count on him being considerate like that.

  He gently rubbed the aloe into my skin. I sighed in relief. “This feels nice. You give the best back rubs.”

  He snorted. “Too bad you’re the only girl I’ve ever given a back rub to.”

  “You could always become a masseuse. Then you can touch all the girls you want.”

  “Knowing my luck, I’ll get all the fat, hairy old men.”

  I let out a small laugh and closed my eyes. He moved down my arms. He straddled my butt as he slid his palms over my swollen, inflamed skin.

  “Imagine if my mom or dad walked in right now. They would have a heart attack.”

  He leaned down. “Your father would throw me out the window and then tell my parents,” he whispered in my ear. “Mom would make me join the synagogue and become a rabbi.”

  “Rabbi Peter Preiss has a nice ring to it.”

  He poked me in the side. “Behave.”

  “Yes, sir,” I grumbled, and he continued his work.

  He made his way down to my legs. When he dug his fingers deeply into my thighs, I covered a groan.

  “You like this?” His voice sounded deeper. He moved down to my knee and my leg twitched. I was very ticklish there. He swiped his thumbs under my shorts, near my butt. I moaned. He stopped rubbing and coughed. His thumbs circled the inside of my thigh.

  Um, this feels different. “I think I’m good now.”

  Before he could continue, I rolled up and sat across from him. He rubbed his palms together and acted too involved in what he was doing.

  “You okay?” I asked, clearing my voice when it came out higher than usual. He seemed off about something.

  He started to wipe off his hands on his faded olive-colored T-shirt when I stopped him. “Don’t even think of it. Let me get a towel.”

  I got up from my bed and limped over to my closet, grabbing one from the shelf. Pete leaned against my headboard. I gave him the towel, and he cleaned his hands. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  I sat next to him and poked him in the chest. “Hey, what’s the problem? You’re too quiet.”

  He threw the towel on the floor. “Just worried about tomorrow. One of the reasons my parents fought is because of me. Dad wants me to try out for some sports. If I join football or soccer, I won’t be such a loser. He thinks me writing all the time alone in my room isn’t a good thing. I guess I’m too antisocial.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding! You’ve won more creative writing awards than any other person in our class. You’re going to be a great novelist someday.” I grinned and ran my finger up his arm. “Unless you become a world-renowned massage therapist first.”

  I waggled my finger in front of his face. He captured my finger and pretended to bite it. I tried pulling away, but he kept my hand in his.

  “Don’t worry what anyone says. You don’t need to be some dumb jock to be accepted. You have your writing, work, and…me.”

  “Those are the three most important things I have in the world. You do know you are the most important thing in my life?” He tapped my chin with his thumb.

  “Even more than your writing?” I joked.

  He lifted our combined hands and rubbed his cheek against them. “Of course.”

  The way he gazed at me made my stomach tighten. I let out a fake yawn and took my hand back. This moment we shared together had more going on than I wanted to admit.

  “I’m beat. You probably are, too, with working all day and lifting those heavy boxes.” I shut off my lamp before stretching out on the bed. The glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling shone brightly, capturing my attention.

  Shifting to his side, he hooked his arm around my waist. I pressed my shoulder against his.

  “Are you busy after school?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Nope. I have nothing planned.”

  “Let’s go biking in the park.”

  I groaned. “If I can move tomorrow. I have a feeling my burnt legs won’t let me do much exercise.”

  He laid his other hand over my leg. A tingle ran up and down where his finger brushed softly.

  “Hey, keep your hand to yourself. You’re giving me ideas.” I let out a real yawn this time.

  He snuggled against me, and I kissed his cheek.

  “I don’t want things to change between us,” he murmured.

  “Why would things change? We don’t have to worry until senior year for anything like that.”

  “I just have a bad feeling this year’s going to be worse than last year.”

  I patted his arm in reassurance. “Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re not some new kid the upperclassmen jerks can throw into a locker.”

  He snorted. “That hasn’t happened since seventh grade.”

  “See, you worry too much. I promise you this year will be our best yet.”

  He pressed his cheek against mine and let out a loud yawn. His breath smelled of mint. He always made sure to brush his teeth before he came over.

  “I hope you don’t become too popular for me.”

  “Peter, shut up and go to sleep. If that happens, I give you permission to smack me.”

  “I’ll do more than that.”

  I twisted my head and gave him a pointed look. “What would that be, Preiss?”

  He didn’t respond and started to snore. I couldn’t tell whether he pretended or he really slept. I shrugged and snuggled deeper into his embrace and closed my eyes. I always slept well in his arms.

  Chapter Five

  I slept so deeply that when my alarm went off, I sat straight up in bed and my head spun. The annoying beeping hurt my ears, so I hit the snooze button hard. A knock on my door stopped me from catching another few minutes of sleep.

  Thoughts of Pete and last night came rushing back. The space beside me was empty. An uncomfortable twinge shot down my spine and landed in the middle of my chest.

  “Rise and shine, morning glory.” Mom’s voice came from the opposite side of the door. She opened it without asking.

  “Mornin’.” I stretched, moving my hair away from my face. I winced. My whole body ached.

  She frowned. “Why didn’t you wear sunscreen yesterday? Your face is splotchy.”

  “Don’t remind me. I slathered aloe all over my body before I went to bed last night. I’ll make sure to wear cover up today.” I touched my forehead and did a little dance move with my shoulders. The zit from hell felt much smaller. “At least the tumor on my forehead has gone down.”

  Mom kissed the top of my head. “That’s something to be happy for. Get dressed. I want you to have breakfast before you leave. Should we expect Pete?”

  There were many times I’d come down to the kitchen and Pete ate a bowl of cereal while Mom and Dad ate their own.

  “We’re walking to school together. I’ll probably have enough time for something. I’ll be quick.”

  She nodded. With a tug on my hair, she left.

  I climbed out of bed and limped into the bathroom, making sure to smear lotion on my sore body. Returning to my room, I heard the doorbell ring and then the front door open.

  “Hi, Mrs. Wyman,” Pete said.

  I would have to really hurry. While Mom fed Pete, I threw on my first day school clothes. Because the weather remaine
d hot and humid, I chose a denim skirt and a pink T-shirt with three big plastic buttons sewn down the middle. I brushed my hair and put it up in a clip with a few tendrils framing my face. After slapping on some light makeup, I blew a few kisses at myself in the mirror. Pretty fabulous even with my baby zit and horrible sunburn.

  Okay, maybe fabulous was a bit of overkill. But I definitely wasn’t plain either. Good news all around.

  Snagging my bag, I tossed in my school supplies. Then finally, I headed downstairs and into the kitchen in my new white sandals that showed off my pretty purple painted toenails.

  Pete sat next to Dad, drinking a glass of orange juice and munching on a bagel covered in strawberry jelly. Dad read the sports section of the paper. Mom made her lunch at the kitchen counter.

  “See, I’m not late.” I held out my arms and posed.

  Pete clapped and Dad folded the paper, stood, and gave me a hug.

  “You’re beautiful even with your burn. Why didn’t you put on—?”

  “I know, Dad.” I jabbed him in the side with my elbow.

  He kissed Mom and waved at Pete. “Later, kids. Pete, tell your father I’ll see him tonight.”

  I grabbed a box of cereal, a bowl, and a spoon and sat down next to Pete. “Why’s he seeing your dad tonight?”

  Mom washed out her mug in the sink. “He wants to ask Mr. Preiss for some tax advice.”

  I poured the frosted cereal into the bowl. “Why does my dad always bother your dad for stuff like that?”

  Pete shrugged and finished eating his bagel. “My dad’s good with numbers.”

  “Sounds like a stereotype.” I poured milk into my bowl.

  “Because we’re Jewish?” he whispered.

  We both studied Mom while she checked her cell phone. If she heard us talking like this, she wouldn’t be happy.

  “Your dad is pretty good with money. It must run in your genes.” I waved my spoon in the air. “Do you ever spend your hard-earned Williams’ Foods dollars on something silly and frivolous?”

  “This coming from someone who still has an allowance?” Pete spoke loudly so Mom could hear. I kicked his ankle.

  “That stops when she turns seventeen in January. Right, Wendy?”

  I spooned some cereal into my mouth. “Hmm…yep,” I answered as I chewed.

  Mom looked like she was going to argue but let it go. “I’ll see you tonight. Pete, keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble.” With that last remark, she left.

  Pete played with his crumbs and didn’t say a word. He knew better.

  After I finished eating my cereal, he deposited his plate in the sink. “Come on, I don’t want to be late. I want to find a good seat at the assembly.” He clapped. It was his way to get me to move faster.

  I pointed my spoon at him. “We’re not sitting in the front.”

  He gave me an innocent smile.

  ***

  By the time we arrived at school, put our things in our lockers, and entered the gym for the school assembly, the place was already filled. Brookeside High had less than a thousand students, but when the entire student body, teachers, and staff were in one room, it became crammed with too many bodies. Pete and I scouted the bleachers for open seats. I tried spotting Pam and my other friends.

  Pam sat with her cheerleading crew and some of the football players. Sitting near them were Toby, Anthony, and Conner. If Pete and I sat with them, it wouldn’t end well. Anthony and Conner would spend the whole time bothering him. Those two were attached at the hip. Conner was one of the few black students at Brookeside. Anthony was as white as white could be. Anthony had been Pete’s best friend when they were younger. Now, he was Pete’s biggest nemesis.

  “If you want to sit with Pam and her friends, go ahead. I can sit by myself,” Pete said.

  “I’m not going to let you sit alone. Come on, we’ll find seats together.” I waved at Pam and then pointed to Pete.

  She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Anthony saw us and made loud monkey noises that rose over the rest of the voices. Pete ignored the shouts and headed toward an empty spot to sit, but a student with horrible acne and a mouth full of braces stuck his foot out as Pete passed him. He tripped but caught himself before he crashed on the hard wooden floor. The place erupted with monkey calls, and Pete’s face turned even redder. He continued walking, ignoring the taunts. I glared at the ass who’d tripped Pete and kicked him in the leg.

  “Jackass.” I gave him the finger.

  The guy with even worse facial acne than Peter glowered and started to stand.

  “You better watch yourself, bit—”

  “Is this guy causing you problems?” Dylan appeared next to me. He glared at the jerk, whose face whitened. His friend next to him yanked him back down. They mumbled an apology.

  I laughed. “Nah, I can handle them. Thanks, by the way.”

  He gave me one of his megawatt smiles, and my stomach flipped a teeny bit.

  “Wendy, over here,” Pete called. He’d found an empty spot exactly where I didn’t want to sit—in the first row. He’d started talking to an unfamiliar student next to him.

  “Mind if I join you?” Dylan asked.

  I was struck speechless for a second. I’d assumed Dylan would sit with Toby and his group. But with those seats already occupied, it made sense he would sit with me since he was the new kid and all.

  “Sure.” I chirped, and we made our way over to Pete. I sat down next to him, and Dylan sat on my other side.

  Pete leaned over to whisper something in my ear, but then Mr. Dibley, our principal, marched out in the middle of the basketball court to speak.

  The room went quiet. Dibley didn’t take any crap from the students. With his buzzed blond haircut, stiff gait, and no-nonsense attitude, he gave off this vibe reminding me of an army general. As he began his speech, Dylan’s leg brushed against my own. Thinking I was in his space, I moved mine away.

  He nudged my foot with his, which I found odd. A smirk remained on his face the whole time.

  Pete gave me a curious stare and tilted his chin toward Dylan. Before I could explain, Dibley began his speech.

  I exhaled softly, trying to calm down. It must be first day of school nerves and not because I sat between two boys who made me second guess myself when I was around both of them.

  When the assembly ended, everyone went to their first class. As I bent down to get my bag, Dylan snagged it and handed it to me.

  “What’s your first class?” he asked.

  “Art history. Yours?”

  “Would you believe PE?”

  “Wow, you lucked out.” I took PE for last period on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I did this on purpose because I wasn’t a fan of showering at the school.

  “What are you—” He stopped and nodded his head. Toby waved across the gymnasium near the exit. “Toby and I have first period together. He doesn’t want to be late.”

  “Yeah. He’s a lot like Pete that way.”

  “Pete?” he asked.

  I checked out the crinkles forming around his eyes. Even his wrinkles were adorable. “He’s—”

  Pete caught my attention. He stood off to the side, talking to the boy he had sat next to.

  “You can tell me later. Gotta go.” Dylan squeezed my arm and threw his backpack over his shoulder, making his way over to his cousin. He glanced back at me and winked. I could only stand there while he strode away. All these touches and winks made me feel funny. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.

  The ringing bell allowed me to focus again. I made my way over to Pete as he high-fived his new friend. The boy had to be a freshman. He was short, lanky, and wore big glasses. His whole white-and-red striped polo shirt and never-been-worn khaki pants screamed, “My mom bought these for my first day of school”. He smiled shyly and headed off without introducing himself.

  “Who’s that?” I asked Pete. We headed out of the gym.

  “Kyle. I work with his brother Stan, a sophomore
at Chesterfield U. He wanted me to keep an eye on his younger brother.”

  “He looks like he’s ten.”

  He draped an arm around my shoulders. “That’s why he wanted me to be cool with him. The kid is an easy target. He reminds me of when I was a freshman.”

  “Yes, so many, many years ago.”

  He bumped his hip against mine. “It feels like it.” He stopped in front of one of the classrooms. “This is where I get off. See you at noon?”

  I nodded. “You betcha.”

  I turned away, but he grabbed my bag.

  “Would it be okay if Kyle ate with us at lunch today?”

  For some reason, Pete seemed vulnerable at that moment. Why would he be uncomfortable asking? He had to know by now I wouldn’t refuse him anything.

  “Sure.” I gave him a big smile. To lighten things up, I punched him in the arm.

  It didn’t even faze him. I guess it wasn’t much of a surprise since his arm felt solid.

  Before I could ask him how many weights he’d been lifting, the second bell rang. Mrs. Putter, the history teacher, who was older than my grandmother, made her way down the hall. Before she could threaten to write either one of us up for being late, I said good-bye and hurried to my first class.

  Chapter Six

  The morning flew by. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a break in between, so by the time my last class ended before lunch, I was starving.

  Lunch lasted forty-five minutes. I’d split it up, spending the first twenty-five minutes with Pete and then the remaining time with Pam and our friend Susie. Those two always ate with the cheerleaders. For some reason, the group always welcomed me. I think they wanted to recruit me for pom-pom detail. Surprisingly, they weren’t as much of a cliché as I’d first thought they would be. I think it was because of my close friendship with Pam and the fact I didn’t care what they thought.

  Pete planned for us to meet outside near the tables next to the quad. I usually brought my lunch from home, but Dad gave me money to buy lunch at the cafeteria for the first day. I checked out the options on the oh-so-lovely cafeteria lunch menu. Before I made a decision, someone covered my eyes.