Ripple: A Novel

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Ripple: A Novel Page 2

by Cedergreen, L. D.


  I think that my father had a lot to do with this. He wasn’t a faithful husband, and his constant infidelity and lies were what ultimately had ended their marriage. He wasn’t a very good father either, but I tried not to dwell on that. I was fortunate to have at least one dependable—and pretty amazing—parent who made up for my father’s absence.

  “Thank you,” Mo said, kissing me on the cheek.

  “For what?” I asked, wiping her lip gloss from my face.

  “You know. Thanks to you, I’m going to homecoming with Rick.”

  “He asked you all on his own, Mo. That had nothing to do with me.”

  “Whatever.” She shrugged. “What’s with the playing-hard-to-get? We both know how much you like Adam. Come on, just admit it,” she said, elbowing me in the arm. “You so want him.”

  I could not conceal the huge grin that swept across my face as I pictured Adam and me dancing close and spending an entire evening together. I could feel the heat brush across my cheeks again, and I tried not to look at her. Normally I wouldn’t hesitate to tell Mo every thought that passed through my mind, but I was feeling very possessive of Adam for some reason, wanting to keep my relationship with him and all thoughts of him to myself.

  I rolled my eyes at her buoyant prodding. “Can we just head back before we’re late for English?”

  “Fine,” she huffed, feeling defeated. She started the car and as she pulled out into the street, we both erupted into a fit of giggles, unable to contain our happiness.

  ~

  The rest of the week flew by. At lunch on Friday, Adam asked me if I wanted to hang out after his football game. We settled on watching a movie at my house. The idea of spending time with Adam outside of school and our daily lunches, under the cover of darkness, had my heart drumming in my chest the entire day.

  It was an exciting football game. I sat with a group of friends and cheered on our team. Although inside I was giving silent cheers just for Adam. He was our starting quarterback, and his stellar performance won the game 24–7. I waited for him outside the locker room after the game, like he had asked me to. I was thankful for the mixed crowd of girls and boys waiting for the players to emerge; I hated to be one of “those girls” waiting for her jock boyfriend. “Those girls” that Mo and I usually mocked for their made-up-from-head-to-toe appearance and the way they shamelessly wore their boyfriends’ letterman jackets, despite the obvious size issues. I wasn’t much for clichés. Mo insisted on waiting with me. I think she really just wanted to see Rick. Whatever her reason, I was glad that she was there.

  As Mo and I talked over our plans for the rest of the weekend, I heard cheering and looked up to see that the football team was starting to make their way out of the locker room. Adam walked out, searching the crowd, his mouth spreading into a huge grin when he spotted me. Walking over, he gave a few high-fives to friends as the cheering continued, but he kept his eyes locked on me. I held my breath as I took in the sight of him. His dark hair was wet and more wavy than usual; he was wearing loose jeans hanging low on his hips, a white linen shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His eyes were shining under the outside lights of the gym, and his smile almost sent me over the edge.

  I heard Mo mumble under her breath, “Someone’s gettin’ some tonight!” and then pranced away in the direction of Rick’s car. If I felt that I could turn from Adam’s stare, I would have rolled my eyes at her, but he had me in a trance.

  He approached me and unexpectedly put his arms around me, lifted me up in the air and twirled me around. I breathed in his clean scent and felt a little dizzy. I manage to tell him, “Great game,” though he was squeezing me so tight it felt as if I couldn’t breathe. Either that or his presence and smell alone had left me breathless. He set me down, mumbled, “Thanks,” and led me to his car by the hand.

  “So did you enjoy the game?” he asked once we were in his BMW.

  “Yeah. You were amazing,” I said, nervously running my fingers through my windblown hair.

  “Thanks. The guys were all on fire tonight.” He placed his warm hand on my leg and looked directly into my eyes. “Honestly, though, I couldn’t wait for it to be over so that I could see you.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised by his honesty, knowing that I had been counting the minutes until I could be alone with him as well.

  “Really,” he repeated softly as he turned toward me, gently placing his hand on the back of my neck, pulling my face closer to his. My breath quickened at his touch and the sudden realization that he was about to kiss me. He gently pressed his lips to mine and pulled back slightly, grinning, waiting for my reaction. I was frozen in place, except for my heart, which was beating quick and heavy, giving me away. Traitor. He brushed his thumb across my cheek, and I felt his lips against mine again but much firmer this time as he separated my lips with his own. I closed my eyes and began to kiss him back as I felt his tongue slide in and gently stroke the inside of my mouth. And just when I felt I could kiss him like this forever, he pulled back, kissing me softly on the cheek.

  Turning his attention to starting the car, he smiled and asked if we should head to my house. I mumbled some kind of response as he reached into the backseat and grabbed three movies, which he placed in my lap. I was still trying to catch my breath as he explained that he wasn’t sure what kind of movie I liked, so he had rented a chick flick, a comedy and an action thriller. On the short drive to my house, we decided on the comedy, as it would require the least of our attention.

  Mo’s earlier comment flashed through my mind as I wondered what his intentions were tonight. I suddenly felt nervous. I’d had my fair share of make-out sessions, sometimes taking things a little too close for my comfort, but I had never actually gone all the way. I had never dated anyone who I felt that close to.

  I knew that Adam was definitely not a virgin. I remember the infamous relationship he had had with Summer Jenkins during his freshman year. It had been a hot topic, because she was a senior. She had graduated in my older sister’s class. Adam was a starter on the varsity boys’ basketball team as a freshman, and that had got Summer’s attention. She wasn’t exactly a prude, if you know what I mean. Adam had dated two other girls that I knew of. I wasn’t sure what he had heard about me, but I definitely wasn’t Summer Jenkins.

  My house was dark when we arrived, except for the light over the kitchen sink which was always on. I turned on the overhead lights in the kitchen and living room and spotted a note on the counter from my mother. “Well, it looks like we have the house to ourselves for a while. My mom and Scott are at the Tyson’s playing cards,” I said, immediately regretting it. He raised his eyebrows at me suggestively, and I rolled my eyes back at him trying to diffuse the sexual vibe in the air.

  I gave him a quick tour of my house. The kitchen, living room, family room and the upstairs bedrooms—more importantly, my bedroom. He stood in my room looking at the wall of pictures of my friends and family that were displayed, laughing at the ridiculous pictures of Mo and me ranging from the age of eight until now. He walked over to my CD collection and looked through it, noting all the ones we had in common. He then walked back over to where I was standing in the center of the room watching him, pulled me into a hug and whispered into my ear, “I like your room.”

  Feeling his warm breath on my ear, I reached up and clasped my hands around the back of his neck. He was so tall that I had to arch my neck to look up at him, but he saw my intent and lowered his face to mine, as our lips pressed together again. I kissed him slowly at first, gently opening my mouth and accepting his tongue. I stroked his tongue with mine, and he pulled me closer to him. My heart was beating so fast. I felt his hands resting on my lower back, his thumbs drawing circles on my skin under my shirt. I ran my fingers through his hair, and I heard him moan softly. He started to walk me backward toward my bed, our lips still exploring.

  I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but, knowing that I didn’t want this to go any further, I pulled back and
mumbled, barely able to speak, “We should probably start the movie. It’s getting late.” He cleared his throat and released me only to grab my hand and lead me downstairs. As I started the movie, Adam slipped off his shoes and leaned back on the couch, as if he had been to my house a hundred times before. I liked that he felt so comfortable with me.

  He reached out for me and pulled me down to sit between his legs. With my back against him, I laid my head on his shoulder. We sat like this in silence for a while, watching the movie. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, only the rise and fall of his chest, and the feel of his breath against my neck. I don’t think that he was really watching the movie either, because he suddenly asked me about my dad, motioning toward a family portrait on a table next to us.

  I usually didn’t like to talk about that subject, but I felt comfortable with him in that moment, and I sensed I could trust him. So I told him about my dad’s affairs, his drinking and my parents’ divorce. I told him that I only saw my dad once every few years, whenever he decided to grace us with his presence. How he had moved around from place to place: Seattle, San Francisco, Las Vegas and finally Corpus Christi, Texas.

  In return Adam told me about what it was like to grow up with three brothers and loyal parents. How he loved to play sports, especially basketball—his favorite—but how sometimes the pressure that his dad put on him to win was overwhelming. He told me that his family was very involved in their church, and they attended several times a week. Adam didn’t go to parties usually, because he didn’t drink. He wasn’t even supposed to start dating until he turned seventeen, which was a few months ago. He kept most things from his parents, because they were really strict and their church didn’t allow it.

  I was intrigued learning so much about him for the first time, even though I have grown up alongside him in this small town. I talked about Mo and our crazy adventures over the years. He laughed as I told him about the time Mo and I made a video of ourselves and sent it in to a contest, trying to win a meet-and-greet with one of our favorite rock bands. We had tried to appear like we were in college, the video taking on more of a comical effect than an attempt to win a serious contest. We hadn’t won, unsurprisingly.

  We had made friends with the local radio station DJs—more likely we annoyed them to the point that they knew exactly who we were—who granted us access into the station to help select the song line-ups, awarding us with backstage passes to most of the concerts we attended and always giving us the bands itinerary, complete with hotel locations. Adam found this fascinating. We talked like this for what seemed like hours, until he looked at his watch and realized that he was going to be late getting home by his curfew. I walked him to the door, and he gave me a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips. Whispering good-bye in my ear and giving my hand a firm squeeze, he turned and headed out into the dark.

  I was beaming as I closed the door and walked upstairs to my room. Adam was so sexy and yet sweet at the same time. I fell asleep dreaming of his face.

  Firsts

  In the weeks leading up to homecoming, Adam and I found every minute possible in our crazy schedules to see each other. Weekdays we rarely went to bed without talking on the phone, and we spent plenty of time during school writing each other notes. Adam usually wrote me letters filled with compliments and words to describe how much he was thinking of me. He could be really sweet. Lunch seemed to end each day with a make-out session in his car, leaving me breathless and flustered while I rushed to English class. The weekends we spent going to the movies or hanging out at my house. My mother adored Adam. He had won her over by playing a very complex classical piece on our piano. My mother, an accomplished pianist herself, could appreciate his talent. I listened in amazement, wondering if there was anything that he didn’t excel at.

  It was a Saturday evening, the first time he had invited me to his house for dinner. I had not officially met his parents, although I knew them from a distance. It was impossible to live in this town and not know everyone. His mom was an excellent cook and clearly enjoyed pleasing her family with her culinary skills, as she graciously accepted our compliments.

  His mother was sweet but a little intense; his father was funny and lovable, much like Adam. Adam resembled his father. They were both tall and muscular with the same deep blue eyes and thick wavy hair, although his father’s hair was handsomely gray. Adam’s three brothers were there too. His two older brothers lived nearby and were visiting for the weekend. One had just graduated from college and the other was a junior at WSU.

  His younger brother, Josh, was a freshman at our school, and I was getting to know him pretty well. He was friendly and very innocent, unlike Adam. He stood an inch taller than Adam and looked more like their mother. He had her straight light-colored hair —that he wore a bit long and shaggy—and her hazel eyes. After dinner I helped his mom with the dishes while we chatted about my family, hobbies and what I wanted to do after high school.

  We ended the evening playing cards at the dinner table. They taught me how to play hearts, and I was the constant focus of their laughter as I fumbled my way through the game. On the drive home, Adam told me how much his family loved me but complained that he was having a hard time keeping his hands off me. He didn’t touch me the entire time we were there, but he made up for that when we were in the car.

  Our football team won the homecoming game, and Adam was ecstatic. The team went out to celebrate, and I went to Mo’s house with a few of our friends to eat pizza and watch music videos. We spent the evening planning out our attire for the dance the following night. It was informal this year. The theme was Fishing in the Dark, and we had all decided on wearing blue jeans and boots. I chose my favorite pair of jeans that sat low on my hips, a black flowing top that showed off my cleavage and my black-heeled boots.

  The night of the dance Mo and I were getting ready at her house, singing along to our favorite grunge band. She had hot rollers in my long hair and was carefully applying my eye makeup. “I hate you for looking so good in those jeans, you skinny bitch,” Mo complained as she recapped a tube of black mascara.

  “Oh, please. You look totally hot tonight. Your hair is amazing,” I said, feeling a hint of jealously for her perfect blond tresses. She had decided to wear a short denim skirt with her worn brown cowboy boots. She looked perfect.

  “Well, when I’m done with you, your hair will look amazing too!” She removed the rollers from my hair, combing through it with her fingers as she coated it with hair spray. When she was done, she stood back to admire her masterpiece. “Adam is going to go nuts over you tonight.”

  I stood and looked at my reflection in Mo’s full-length mirror. I looked tall and thin—my heeled boots giving me just enough height—while my skin was still deeply tan from the long summer, even though fall was upon us, threatening to bring snow by Halloween. My green eyes stood out with the colors that Mo had used on my lids, my full lips brushed with a subtle pink gloss, and my hair was shiny and long with full perfect curls. I felt beautiful.

  “Wow, nice work, Mo!” Standing next to her, we both glanced in the mirror; I put my arm around her and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you. I love it.”

  When the boys arrived, we ran to the car giggling like the two giddy schoolgirls that we were.

  ~

  From the moment we stepped out of the car, Adam had his hands on me, and they stayed there for the duration of the dance. He was either holding my hand or had his arm wrapped around my waist, as if he had some claim on me. I didn’t mind; I felt proud to be his date. With each slow song, Adam pulled me into his arms and held me close as we swayed to the music.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Adam whispered against my ear as we danced. His hands were gripping my hips, holding me close. Our bodies were molded against each other from the chest down, my hands wrapped around his neck as I twirled his dark hair in my fingers.

  “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said, burying my face against his chest to hide my burning ch
eeks. He leaned in and kissed me on the neck, setting fire to my insides. I couldn’t remember ever having been this affected by someone before. Adam had gotten under my skin, and I feared for my heart and where it all might lead.

  We left the dance early and drove to our friend Jeff’s house. His parents were out of town, so he had invited most of the junior and senior class to a party. When we arrived, we were immediately assaulted by the smell of booze and cigarette smoke. Jeff handed each of us a beer as he shouted a loud welcome over the blaring music. Adam looked uncomfortable, and I remembered that he didn’t drink.

  I set down our full beers on the table and grabbed his hand. “Hey, come with me,” I said, leading him into Jeff’s bedroom. I closed and locked the door, muting the loud music and rising voices. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you don’t do parties or drinking. Is it okay that we’re here?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured me. “Rick really wanted to come, and I told him that I would drive.”

  “Well, we can hang out in here until he’s ready to go,” I said, standing with my back pressed against the door.

  “Are you okay with that?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Of course. I just want to spend time with you anyway,” I said as I reached for his hands, interlacing our fingers.

  And with that said, he pulled me into his arms. I felt so small and fragile wrapped up in his long limbs. He was wearing a black shirt that clung to his chest, and I could feel his strong physique underneath it. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my head in his chest. He pulled up my chin so that our gazes met. “You look so good tonight. I was getting jealous watching every guy in the room check you out while we were dancing. You have no idea the effect you have on me—and every other guy, for that matter.”

 

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