by Rachel Shane
But in private, we had a secret communication system. We had lengthy discussions with one another without saying a word using status messages on the school social networking site.
After the hayride, I’d posted a picture of a bag of chips focused in on the sodium content. A minute later, he liked my picture and posted a status message of his own: an empty granola wrapper with the caption: my comfort for tonight.
When I woke up the next morning, I’d discovered he’d posted a new one at some point during the night: I’ve been left for dead.
I retaliated with the song lyrics I’d belted out to him the first night. He shifted to sappier quotes from songs with lyrics that claimed to still be thinking about someone. The first night he squeezed me in passing through the bar, he posted an image of the sand-filled squeeze ball he kept on his desk with the caption: this is a poor substitute for what I really want to do.
Inside jokes between us flew across our status messages in a battle only we could understand. Smurf on the red. Plays on the word scream. He even once posted a screen shot of a karma sutra book opened to our favorite position.
Through song lyrics, we engaged in endless conversations, saying so much without saying anything at all. And so right before Fall Break, I stopped. And posted something real.
I think we’re saying the same thing. So let’s do something about it.
I shut down my computer and threw myself into another project to combat my racing heart. I sat on my bed, magazines and photocopied art books covering every surface, blanketing me with inspiration. I spent a few hours in the library leafing through art history texts. Then I bought out CVS’s magazine supply. Fallon was still struggling to find some kind of niche in art after my photography tutorial attempt and fashion design attempt fell flat. She was too shy and embarrassed to be intrusive enough to get the good pictures. So all she ended up taking photos of were the lifeless statues around campus. She had officially abandoned painting as her major but had yet to declare a new one.
My fingers ached from cutting out many pictures of cool photographs I found in the magazines. Glue and decoupage paste crusted my skin. The collage looked pretty good, except for the ransom style letters that spelled out motivational words. Her boyfriend’s name. The school mascot. Her favorite brand of jeans. I knew they didn’t add anything to the overall aesthetic, but they might spark ideas.
Keys jangled in the door just as I finished tacking the collage to her wall. I jumped off her bed and gathered all the scraps into a pile, dropping them into the wastebasket on my way back to the bed. I plopped into my desk chair and nudged my laptop. It remained black, still off. Air whooshed from my lungs. I could pick up my phone, check his status message there. But instead I swiveled in my seat and presented her with the guiltiest look ever.
Fallon blinked at me. “What?”
“Nothing!”
My eyes traced her around the room as she placed her school bag neatly onto her chair, hung up her winter coat, and took off her shoes. “Mackenzie, what’s wrong? You’re staring at me.” She followed my eyes to the collage and spun around slowly, probably thinking I had pranked her in some way. “What’s this? It’s awesome.”
“Collage-O-Ideas. Maybe it’ll give you some.”
“Anyone ever tell you how amazing you are?” She jumped on her bed and examined the ideas.
Yes, I wanted to say.
The night before Fall Break, Bianca had gone back to Dallas early, so I asked Erin to accompany me to Quigley’s since she had no TV station obligations. And yeah, Corey had posted something about being out at Quigley’s. It was the only form of acknowledgement after my status message yesterday.
Alumni packed the bar, leftover from the Homecoming football game the day before. Old men jumped in groups to reclaim their youth while the coeds danced near them, clinging to theirs. Dirt caked off shoes and mated with spilled drinks, covering the floor in a coat of mud. The room was more packed than usual and bodies pressed against mine, shoving me left and right. Unknown benefactors thrust drinks into my hand. It seemed as long as you were still a college student, alumni were thrilled to pay for your drinks. There was more cheering and yelling than a normal night of drunken sorority girls singing bad versions of nineties songs.
Erin and I were pushing through the crowd to get to the counter when we crossed paths with Corey and Nate. I almost careened into Corey’s gray sweater-covered chest, but I stopped short before I could. As Erin pulled Nate onto the dance floor, I waited there stupidly, expecting something. A squeeze. Acknowledgement of my last status message using words instead of text. Something, damn it. When Corey didn’t say anything, I forced my feet to keep moving, my throat tight.
The song changed to the Clever Trevor tune Corey and I had first danced to. It mocked me, throbbing in my ears and making my stomach twist. The barrier of bodies was like a prison gate I couldn’t break through. I let out a growl of frustration that died under the heavy music. I’d been so good at keeping everything huddled inside but in that moment I thought I might shatter.
A delicate hand grazed my torso, squeezing my hip. My eyes fluttered closed, savoring his touch. I spun around, ready to catch him in the act, call him out on it for once. But my defenses weren’t necessary.
His hand never left my hip.
“Mac?” The hand trailed along my side until it lingered on my shoulder.
The words I’d been holding onto for weeks stayed bottled in my throat. I didn’t need them. Corey and I became magnets, polar opposites drawn to one another. Our bodies connected to the tune of the song. We danced together, the two of us, alone in the crowded bar. This was a last meal before execution, I had to savor every bite. The room swelled with energy, like my emotions were so strong, they suffocated the entire crowd.
Our dancing made me feel powerful. After a month of being alone, I finally had him in my arms again. Even if one of my hands still held a drink. I pulled him closer to me, stringing my arm around his back, taking control of our movements.
He sighed and looked away for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “You’re so damn sexy.”
I knocked his thighs open with my knee and slid my leg between his. My arms encircled his neck and pulled him closer until our mouths hovered only a breath away.
“I fucking love it when you take control like this.”
Our hands roamed all over each other’s bodies, feeling the barrier of clothes. I wished we could destroy the fence. His abs rippled beneath his shirt, not truly defined, but not invisible. Our faces were so close, I could taste his beer-laced breath, soak in his body heat.
“I’m waiting for you to tell me I was right,” I cooed into his ear. My tongue traced along the lobe, just enough for him to lean into me before I stopped completely. A tease. A taunt.
Corey growled. “You mean your status message?” His nose skimmed along my cheek. He squeezed my hip and rubbed his hand up and down the side of my body. Little fires erupted at every spot he touched. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
My hand skimmed along the front of his jeans, grazing the hardened bulge. “That’s not good enough.” I robbed him of my touch, instead sucking on the rim of my beer bottle, my tongue circling the tip the way I used to do to him. My lips ached to kiss him again.
Corey’s bedroom eyes drooped with clear intention. “I’ve been a wreck without you, Mac.” He leaned in to kiss me, but I tilted my head.
“What about Holly?”
His hands traced circles along my lower back. “What about her?”
I leaned closer into his ear, my fingers practically digging graves into his shoulder. “I heard you were dating her.”
His brow furrowed. “You heard wrong. She needed a date for her formal. I like free drinks. Simple as that.”
Hope appeared in the small space that separated us.
“The only one I want is you,” he said.
I dropped my hand from his chest. My knee slid out from between his. A foot of air separated our formerly
sealed bodies. His mouth dropped as if he’d been slapped. I spun until my back faced him as though I were going to walk away, but then I reached behind me and held out my hand.
He took it.
We battled the crowd, squeezing into empty spaces created by raised arms to belt out a single line of a song. His grip on my hand tightened whenever anyone tried to separate us. The hallway by the bathrooms swallowed us up. Corey pressed me against the wooden wall, in full view of several girls tapping their feet impatiently on the line. His lips found my neck, sucking gently. Every atom in my body ignited as my eyes fluttered closed, savoring his kiss.
I pushed him away.
He squinted at me, startled, then caught an annoyed glimpse from a girl across the hall and startled all over again as if he had forgotten we were in public.
I laced my fingers through his and tugged him into the darkest recess of the hallway. A sliver of light seeped in from outside. I twisted the back door open into the dark alley behind Quigley’s. A blast of cold air whipped, making my shoulders shake and the girls in the hallway scream to close the door. Light snow fell from the sky, coating the large green trash bins and single car parked in the cramped space. The pretty white expanse sparkled enough to make the seedy location look like a romantic movie set. Under the moonlight, the crystalline flakes glittered. My stilettos sloshed into the thin dusting of snow that covered the street as the door shut behind us, sealing in the music. A rush of cars from the next street over became our new background soundtrack.
He took a large step toward the direction of his frat, just like we’d done the first night we hooked up, but I spun around and blocked his path. I rose on tiptoes and pressed my mouth against his. The kiss erupted into something fierce and animalistic, his tongue sweeping through my mouth as if he were searching for a prized treasure he once lost. His arms wrapped around me, shielding the chill that sent goose bumps popping along my bare forearms. My fingers tangled in his hair, then pulled, bringing his mouth so close to mine our teeth clinked. Little snowflakes dotted his eyelashes.
He lifted me up and placed me onto the hood of the car. Frigid metal and icy snow seeped into my jeans, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything except the hard press of his pelvis against mine. A low ache bloomed in my belly and traveled downward. My shaking fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans and his did the same with mine. I allowed him to shimmy my pants down my legs while our lips stayed connected. Cold air bit at my bare skin, but I ignored it. I lifted the condom out of his back pocket where he always kept one.
I held it out to him, a contract. “This time, it has to be different. Not casual. It has to mean something.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “You have to promise.”
He pulled the condom from my hands and ripped it open with his teeth. “I promise I’ll try.”
His lips were on mine before I could make sense of his words. The wet droplets of snow on my bare arms and thighs made me shiver, but only for a moment. His body connected with mine, sweater-covered arms shielding me from the cold, warmth growing deep in my belly as he entered me. Holy hell. I’d forgotten how good this felt. The stinging cold beneath my bare ass only heightened the pleasure, and a gasping cry erupted from my throat. He was right back where he belonged.
I wrapped my legs around him to pull him closer but also to keep warm. I breathed in the musky smell of him as we performed our ritual dance, my cheek pressed against his icy skin. He skipped the shallow thrusts he usually started with and went straight for the deep ones that always rocketed waves of euphoria through me, almost as if he couldn’t bear to hold himself back after a month without this. Our mouths fumbled, slipping along each others’ lips, too busy moaning to connect. Heat flashed across my body, melting each snowflake as it touched my skin. My heart rate rocketed with every pulse of Corey’s hips.
My breaths grew heavier, matching the sensation building deep in my core. “Only one position today?” I teased between pants. “You must be off your game.”
“I was trying to keep you warm, but if you insist…” His fingers slid beneath my ass, and he lifted me right off the car. My legs tightened around his waist and my hips took over the thrusting as he carried me over to the back wall of Quigley’s. He pressed me against the rough surface, standing in front of me, the only thing holding me up. Bricks scraped against my elbows, tempered when his arms settled as a buffer. The jeans circling his ankles rested in the snow and his knees shook as he plowed into me.
This position hit me in the exact right place, and I let out a scream of satisfaction. My toes curled inside my stilettos as the pressure building inside me rose to a crescendo. Gasps escaped and mixed with the sound of the howling wind and the faint thump thump of the music.
His mouth found my ear, teeth gently pulling at the lobe. Hot breath sent shivers down my spine, a different kind of shivers than the one caused by the cold temperature. “God, I love being inside you,” he moaned.
That was all it took.
I exploded, my body convulsing, the wind sneaking in to all the places clothes no longer touched my skin and made my body shake even more. Corey collapsed against me, head digging into my shoulder, hands pressed against the bricks above my head as if he were surrendering.
I panted against him. “That was…”
“Fucking hot,” he finished as he carried me back over to the car where my pants waited.
“I was going to say cold, actually.”
He laughed and robbed his body from mine, tossing the condom into the snow covered trash bin.
“So, what are you doing on December first?” My fingers shook as I pulled my underwear back up my frostbitten legs.
Corey scrunched up the leg of my jeans and slid it over my boot. “You know, the usual: attending class, studying in the library, cleaning my room…”
The way he slid my jeans up my legs felt amazing. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m just fucking with you. What’s December first?”
I hopped off the car. “My formal. Want to go with me?” I held my breath. I should have probably asked him this question first, before we’d had sex. It was part of my unwritten contract.
He paused and rested his index finger on his cheek. My heart pounded so fast I thought he could hear it, even over the sound of a car alarm going off a few blocks away. He shifted his body and folded his arms. My heart sank when he frowned. “Will there be alcohol?”
“Uh, yeah, it’s a formal.”
“You should have lead with that.” The corners of his lips rose upward. He let out a small laugh that came from his nose, rather than his lips, so barely any sound came out. He planted a kiss on my lips. “I’d love to go.”
We emerged back at Quigley’s, sweaty and shivering, snowflakes stuck to our hair. Corey ordered Hot Apple Pie shots for us, mostly because they came flaming and our fingers were both unnaturally pink. Nate squeezed into the space next to us, followed by Erin.
“Where were y—” His eyes flew from Corey to me, then to our wet jeans. He flicked a snowflake off of Corey’s hair. “Fucking hell. You guys just totally banged, didn’t you?”
My cheeks burst with color.
Erin let out an audible gasp. “Oh my God! You did! You’re both blushing!” She tried to roll her eyes but there wasn’t much force behind the movement, like she couldn’t quite get herself to let go that much. She’d be a great candidate for Botox in the future.
Corey spun me into his arms and dropped a hard kiss onto my lips. He tilted his face, pressing his cheek against mine, and focused on our friends. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Nate sighed. “I’m sleeping in my room tonight whether you’re there or not.”
THE DAY I GOT back to school after Fall Break, Bianca and I made plans to go to the gym before our weekly sorority chapter meeting. I put on my sweatpants, tank top, and a ratty old sweatshirt. A messy ponytail swung behind my head. My makeup stayed packed in my suitcase; I’d apply it later that night before I met up with Corey.<
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We’d Skyped every day of break, talking for hours about everything and nothing. We’d start out upright, facing the computer screens but would eventually go horizontal, both of our cheeks pressed against separate pillows, squinting to see each other in our dark rooms the webcams failed to capture. I kept waiting for him to suggest something kinky, something Ryan had never once suggested in all our Skype chats, something involving a video chat strip show maybe, but he didn’t. He only wanted to talk.
He was trying, just like he’d said.
I arrived at Bianca’s room and, of course, she wasn’t ready yet. No surprise there. Bianca always had to look perfect. Large chandelier earrings dangled from her ears, and her lips pouted in a delicate shade of berry. Jeans and a trendy sweater hugged her tiny frame. She probably wanted to wait until the last possible second to put on her exercise clothes. Never sweatpants, only exercise clothes.
“Corey’s coming over, I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Bianca placed the magazine she had been reading neatly on her desk.
A nervous flutter warmed my belly. “Oh no. I look horrible.” I raced to the mirror and gasped at the purple half moons hanging below my eyes. Corey and I had stayed up chatting until four last night.
“Jeez, Mackenzie, he’s seen you far worse, in the morning and shit. Don’t worry about it.”
Still, my leg shook as I waited for him to arrive. He didn’t look spectacular himself in his sweatpants, socks with sandals, and puffy orange North Face jacket, the one you could spot him in from a mile away, a moving traffic cone. He also wore glasses, plastic-rimmed ones that made him look studious.