I Am Me

by Kai Strand

He makes eye contact with me over her shoulder and I see his hand snake around Cyn’s waist. I roll my eyes.

  Cyn pushes him away in this fantastic way she has of putting people in their place. It’s like she noticed he was making a play for her in front of me but won’t even acknowledge it because it was a completely pathetic move. I even see pink on Eddie’s cheeks as Cyn shares her standard party host greeting.

  “So nice of you to invite us, Eddie. I’m impressed with the turn out.” Her eyes track Jerome Bennett as he slips out the French doors to the patio. “You always draw such important people.”

  Eddie looks at me with pride and I can’t help but roll my eyes again. Does he really expect I’ll forgive him for screwing around with another girl because Cyn said he gives good parties?

  “No one as important as you, Cynthia.” His grin is a bit lecherous as he gazes down her top, and I’m a little sad that Cyn isn’t paying attention because she’d probably come up with a good verbal slap.

  “Yes, well…we’re off to find something to drink.”

  I follow Cyn onto the patio, not surprised to find Jay behind the bar, playing bartender. I’ve known Jay since Kindergarten. Though we aren’t actually close, I’m always glad to see him.

  “Shirley Temple for you, Lola?” he asks, with a glint in his dark eyes. His blond hair looks like a 1970’s afro. He isn’t at all good-looking, but he’s extremely funny and I’ve always thought that made him attractive.

  “Ew, too sweet. How about just a diet cola?” Jay doesn’t drink either. He minds the bar so that he can cut kids off before they get too drunk. They never listen to him and end up nabbing bottles of booze and sneaking off with them, but I give him huge credit for trying.

  He hands me a red plastic cup and I laugh at the lime hanging on the rim.

  “Fancy!” I say.

  He winks and turns his attention to Cyn’s drink. I look around the patio, appreciative of the tall propane heat lanterns placed around and keeping the chilly evening at bay.

  “I heard you won the speech thing,” Jay says, as he hands Cyn her cup.

  My eyebrows arch. “How did you hear that?”

  “I’m on the school newspaper this year.”

  Cyn touches my shoulder. “I see Rick. I’ll be over there.”

  I nod to her before responding to Jay. “Does anyone read that thing?”

  He shrugs. “It’s an award-winning paper and I need to round out my resume for college aps.”

  “Ah, same reason I’m in speech this year.”

  “So, you get to go to some state competition, huh?”

  I nod and smirk at a girl in an impossibly tight and ridiculously short dress trying to look cool while she pumps the keg of beer. A couple guys are leering at her, but not stepping in to help. I shake my head. She’ll never figure out the irony of that. “Next month. I’ll just be giving the same speech again.”

  “Good luck.”

  I smile at Jay, touched that he cares at all. His gaze sweeps to my right as someone leans against the bar.

  “Just a soda. Something clear.”

  My eyes pop wide when I recognize Jerome Bennett’s voice. I quickly school my expression and blink casually as I turn to look up at him feeling like a total girl, because I want to giggle.

  “Anything in it?” Jay asks. “Eddie’s dad has a well-stocked bar here.”

  Rome shakes his head and finally looks my way.

  He does a double take when he sees me. “Lola?”

  His obvious shock confuses me. I nod, glancing at Jay who is paying really close attention to the soda pouring into the cup.

  “Wow, you look…” Rome turns to face me and tips his head sideways.

  I’ve just convinced myself that he’s going to say I look silly or out of place in my nod to summer outfit when he finally finishes his thought.

  “Great.” He reaches forward and lifts a wave of my hair and studies it for a bit before his gaze sweeps me again.

  My swallow seems unusually loud. I shrug and furrow my brow, unsure why he thinks I look great when he never seemed to notice me before. Does he actually have anything to compare it to? “Thanks.”

  He’s still holding my hair, his eyes jumping back and forth from it to my face. I mean, it’s a couple inches longer than last year, but otherwise the same.

  “How’s school?” I ask. His dark hair is shaved close to his head. It’s fuzzy and I want to run my palm over it. His good looks are classic, strong features, well proportioned. Light gray-blue, attention getting eyes, an easy smile. I slam my mouth shut when I feel the crazy huge grin splitting my face.

  “S’okay.”

  “I heard you were home for your sister’s recital.”

  A kid bumps up behind Rome. “Move your skinny ass, Bennett.”

  I scan his physique and think how there’s nothing skinny about it. I bite my lower lip.

  He grabs his drink and gives the guy a good-natured smile as he gently curls his hand over my shoulder.

  I’m so surprised by his touch that I straighten and suck in a breath, and even if he can’t hear my reaction, I know he feels it. His eyes sweep back to me and heat up. I’m unable to draw any more breath.

  “Let’s step out of the way.” His voice is gravelly.

  He guides me backward until I’m up against a potted tree with a snowball shaped top. Strands of my hair snag in the perfectly pruned branches. Rome’s hand on my shoulder feels intimate, like it knows all my curves. No other part of him touches me, but I feel consumed by him, overwhelmed by him, but love every second of it. I have to fight the ridiculous urge to say, “Wow,” aloud.

  “She performed today.”

  I blink at him while I try to figure out what he’s talking about.

  “It’s for a scholarship. She won’t find out if she gets it for a couple months.”

  Oh, his sister. “How did she do?”

  “I thought she did well.” The smile that softens his face nearly breaks my already tenuous composure. He so obviously adores his sister. “I always think she does well. She says it’s because I’m ignorant. That if I actually understood the music, you know studied it, then I’d know how much she screwed up.”

  “Is she here tonight?”

  He shakes his head while his gaze roves me again and I’m surprised by how pleased it makes me. I’m not usually fond of being ogled, but he is obviously surprised by something in my appearance.

  “Seriously, Lola. When did you grow up?” His eyes squint as they examine my face. “You look the same, but also very different.”

  Not what I expected, and I’m not sure how to respond. “I don’t know. I feel the same.”

  He reaches out and brushes his thumb across my cheek and smiles knowingly as my skin heats and turns pink. The longer his thumb rests there, the redder I feel my cheeks glow. A tingling sensation makes my eyes flutter as his fingers brush over my skin and tangle in my hair. His eyes trace along the waves tumbling over my shoulder and down my arm. “I’ve always loved your hair.”

  Rome’s so quiet I wonder if he meant to admit that out loud. When he sees his own fingers skimming through the length of my hair, his eyes widen, and he snatches them back. “I’m…ah…”

  I’m confused again by his horrified expression and feel like I’m on a roller coaster of emotion. Is he embarrassed to have touched my hair uninvited or is he appalled that it’s my hair he touched?

  Cyn slides up beside me, effectively cutting off my opportunity to find out.

  “Rome Bennett. It’s great to see you.” She leans forward to give him a one-armed hug. They know each other better than he and I do, both having elite status in the popularity pool. “Truly, you are the main reason Lola and I are here tonight.”

  Rome’s eyes dart to me. I’m not sure if he looks surprised or concerned, like maybe he’s worried I’m a closet stalker and he just encouraged me by playing with my hair. I blush and look away, meeting Jay’s gaze. And because it’s Jay, I can’t help but cro
ss my eyes and smile. Knowing I always have the safety of Jay at the bar to escape to, I’m able to turn my attention back to Cyn and Rome’s conversation.

  “I’m glad I came then. We got back from Alice’s recital late and I almost bagged the party to stay home. I…am…” Rome looks at me. “…heading back early tomorrow.”

  I shift on my feet so that I’m leaning closer to Cyn. Somehow his awkward glance made me part of the conversation, maybe even the subject of it, though I haven’t said a thing. I scan the crowd looking for a reason to escape Rome’s hot and cold attitude, relieved to see Elaine just inside the house. She throws her head back in a laugh, her long blond hair falling perfectly behind her back. The urge to be part of her seemingly normal conversation spurs me.

  “Excuse me.” I leave without looking at either Rome or Cyn.

  I navigate through the party over the next few hours without running into Rome. I’ve actually forgotten the awkwardness completely, until I find him looming next to me. He turns his head away from the group I’m standing with, his voice pitched so that only I hear him.

  “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

  I’m sure my surprise is evident when I meet his gaze. He nods his head toward the back deck, which I’ve been avoiding since escaping earlier. I shrug and follow him, wondering what he could possibly have to say to me that require us to be alone.

  The expansive deck has an irregular shape. Rome leads me to a deserted, dark corner that I’m glad to find is at least warmed by one of those tall heater things. We’re right on the edge of its reach, with the cold night air pushing against the propane-heated air.

  Rome rubs a hand over his head, which makes me smile, since I wanted to do that very same thing earlier.

  “I like your hair, by the way.” It’s a lame thing to say, but the silence feels awkward. I’m completely confused why he asked to talk to me.

  “Thanks. Having it short lets me sleep longer in the morning.”

  A shy smile curves his lips and makes a giddy swirling sensation erupt in my stomach. I’m glad he can’t see my cheeks flame when I picture him sleeping. I might not know what’s going on, or why he seems shy around me when we never really talked before, but I’m enjoying it.

  “So, um…” He leans casually against the deck rail, then stands straight and shoves his hands in his pockets. Then a hand pops out immediately to run over his hair again as he shifts from foot to foot. “I was wondering if you want to have breakfast in the morning.”

  Holy hyperventilating! He’s asking me on a date.

  He continues in a rush. Like he’s nervous, which is so, so unbelievable. “It would have to be kind of early, because I have a lot of homework and need to get back to school, but…”

  My mind spins with thoughts. I’m completely charmed by how nervous he is. Cyn is spending the night, would she mind if I kicked her out early? For Jerome Bennett? Of course she wouldn’t. He’s in college. Is this even a good idea?

  A quiet groan escapes him. “This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t expect you to want to get up early after a late night.”

  “I don’t mind.” I quickly replay that in my head to make sure it didn’t sound too eager. “It’s not like I’ll have to sleep anything off.”

  That’s when I realize that he won’t either. He seems completely sober, and I remember him ordering just a soda earlier. I bite my lip because it makes me even happier knowing his asking me out isn’t fueled by alcoholic bravery.

  “So, you will?” He sounds surprised.

  I laugh because, seriously, how can he be surprised? He’s Jerome Bennett. “I’d love to. Breakfast happens to be my favorite meal.”

  “Is nine too early?” He bites his lip and the most adorable wrinkles surround his squinting eyes.

  “Eight works too, if you need to get back to school.”

  His expression expands into one of wonder. “Really? 8:00 AM?”

  I laugh again, feeling kind of giddy and totally girly. “I don’t mind at all. Should we meet somewhere?”

  “No, I’ll pick you up!” He frowns. “Unless, you’d be more comfortable meeting me there.”

  Cue the heart stoppage. I’m so enamored by his utter adorableness I think I might die. “I’m totally okay with you picking me up. Give me your phone and I’ll put my address in the maps app.”

  “I know where you live,” he says with a chuckle.

  “Great.” I know where he lives too, but I’ve been obsessing over his hotness since…well, forever, so of course I know where he lives. I’m surprised by his admission though and a little thrill runs through me.

  “Um, then I’ll see you in the morning.” He swings his hand toward me like he might slap me on the shoulder like a good buddy, but instead he runs a finger down my arm and my skin’s ablaze with goosebumps. Then he picks up a hank of my hair and twirls it between his fingers. “8:00 AM. You’re sure?”

  The whole gooseflesh thing rendered me speechless, so I nod.

  His eyes spark and he says, “8:00 AM then. Night.”

  “Goodnight.” It’s as much an exhale as a word. I hope he heard. Just before he steps into the house, he glances back and awards me a perfect smile. My lips curl upward slowly because I’m awed by what just happened and I’m wondering if it’s a joke. A lump forms in my throat that I struggle to swallow. I didn’t even know excitement came in the form of throat clogging lumps. I stand there long after he’s gone, my mind not really finishing any of the thoughts racing around inside it.

  Cyn sticks her head out the door. “I’m kinda tired. Are you ready?”

  Her speech is slightly slurred, but not too bad.

  “What are doing out here alone, anyway?” She scans the deck as if she’ll find my missing companion. The only people left out here are either passed out on the chaises or making out.

  I bite my lip as a huge grin blooms. “I’ll tell you on the way home.”

  Chapter 6

  “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I watch Jerome pour cream into his coffee. He looks extra handsome in a t-shirt that’s the same blue-gray shade as his eyes. The v-neck shows off his strong jaw and collarbone, both of which I suddenly want to taste, so of course I’m blushing.

  “Them,” he says and juts his chin out.

  I follow his gaze and – holy heart melt – it’s an old couple. Probably in their eighties. The man reads the paper while the woman people observes the restaurant around her, but they hold hands across the table. Something about how dexterous they are with their free hands—the man stirring his coffee, the woman folding a straw wrapper—shows they’ve been holding hands for a very long time.

  I swing my attention back to Jerome, who watches the couple while he stirs his own coffee. The fondness in his expression makes me catch my breath and I yearn for us to be that couple in sixty-plus years from now. The thought is completely ridiculous, and I try to banish it from the front of my mind.

  “They’re adorable,” I say, but what I really mean is he is adorable.

  “My grandparents are like that.” He sucks in a breath and for a second his face pinches with pain. “Were like that.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “Gramps passed away in March.” His eyes flit to the couple again.

  “How’s your grandma?”

  “Actually, she’s pretty good. Or if she’s not, she isn’t letting on.”

  I sip my black coffee. “I admire people who can remain stoic like that. My emotions are always front and center for everyone to see.”

  “Must be that practically transparent skin of yours.” He scans my face with a glint of approval that makes me blush. “I love your practically transparent skin, by the way.”

  I can’t look at him because I know I’m as red as a traffic light. I smile down at the table, straighten my knife, and steer the subject back to my original question. “So, what are you majoring in?”

  “Sports medicine.”

  My eyes skim as much of his athletically fit
body as I can see before I can stop myself.

  The slight curve of the corner of his mouth tells me he noticed. “Do you know what colleges you want to apply to?”

  Thankful for the distraction from his athleticism, I share the reasons behind my top college choices. I ask him how he chose his college and if it was his top choice. After our food is delivered, we talk about his classes and how some are much more difficult than high school and others aren’t.

  “What’s it like not living at home?” For some reason, the reality that he doesn’t live with his parents, barrels into me, leaving me feeling like a twelve-year-old kid out with an adult. He lives on his own. Pays bills, buys groceries, has no curfew. No parents—or a housekeeper—telling him to keep the door open when there’s a girl in his room.

  When I look across the table he looks even more mature than he did five minutes earlier. He’s so self-assured. I know that I am too, but that’s because I live at home under the care of my parents. I don’t know why his being able to stay out all night suddenly makes me feel like we have nothing in common, but panic wells up inside me, and I fear he might sense our inequality.

  He shrugs like living on his own is no big deal. “Honestly, it didn’t hit me at first. My family helped me move into the dorm, so it was a bit like being dropped off at summer camp. Then being surrounded by a bunch of kids eager for a good party seemed fun for a while. When I finally realized no one was coming to pick me up or tell me to stop playing cards ‘til all hours of the morning, I was so bogged down with homework that I found myself spending most of my time at the desk in my room, or at the library.” He doctors his refilled coffee. “Too bad my school isn’t on your list.”

  It isn’t anything that Rome is doing or saying, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m just a pesky kid asking annoying questions of a busy adult. I bite my lip and glance over to where the old couple was sitting. They’re gone, replaced by three men. “Your school doesn’t have a program for non-profit management.”

  As our breakfast date continues, I blush so much I wonder if Rome thinks my skin is naturally pink. My stomach constantly flips and twirls and lurches in response to a look he gives me, or something he says. It’s amazing my food stays down. By the time he walks me to my front door—another blush worthy gesture—I’m almost eager to end our date simply so I can cool down and settle my stomach.