Mr. Mitchell rings his bell, and our banter is silenced.
“I thought it would be fun to start off this year with a little ice breaker. With a class this size, it’s hard to get to know each other, so let’s make it happen.”
When he rings the bell again, everyone jumps to their feet and starts chatting with the person next to them. Our task is to meet each class member, write down their name, find out something about them, and get their signature on our paper. There are fifty students in our class. This is going to take a while.
I’ve met Justina, Christian, Emily, Marissa, Jenny, and Milo before I realize who else is in our class.
“What’s your name?”
“Really, Travis? Really?” I tell him.
“Hey, I’m just trying to follow directions and be friendly,” he says, with his cheesy grin.
Oh, he’s smiling at me. And joking. Maybe he’s not mad at me anymore.
I gaze up at him, hopeful. “Does that mean you’re talking to me again?”
“Only when I have to,” he mumbles, his smile disappearing.
“Hey, Travis. Megan,” a girl’s voice calls out, “look over here.”
We both turn our faces at the same time. Click. A giant camera winks at us.
Travis looks just as irritated as I feel. I tear his paper from his hands and sign it. “Well, you don’t have to talk to me to write something down. You know me better than most people do.”
“Yeah, I wish you’d remember that.” He slips his paper from my hands, turns his back on me and begins making small talk with someone else.
Ouch. Stab to the chest. That’s what it feels like. He may as well have taken a knife and slit my throat. That one little comment—okay, not so little—is enough to make me feel like crap for the rest of the day.
Was kissing another guy in front of him really that bad?
Yeah, I’m guessing it was. Right now, Travis is talking to one of the senior girls. My jaw starts to hurt before I notice my teeth are clenched so tight they could fuse together. If his talking to another girl has me ready to crack a tooth, I can’t imagine what it would be like to see him kiss someone else. And I don’t want to.
Single ladies year. Crap. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to go through with this after all.
“Hey, how many did you get so far?” Josh asks me.
I shift my eyes from Travis to him. “Huh?”
“Are you almost done? I just need to talk to a few more people. I love this class. Why didn’t I sign up last year? Or freshman year?”
Looking down at my paper, I sigh. “I only have six. I’m never going to finish in time.”
“Do you know anyone in here besides our group?” he asks.
“Yeah, a bunch of people,” I answer, looking around at the familiar faces.
“Then just write down their names and write something you know about them.”
“And what about the signatures?”
“Sign it for them. That’s what some of the others are doing. Mr. Mitchell isn’t paying attention.”
I cringe.
Josh looks at me like I’m crazy. “It’s not like it’s a million dollar check you’re forging. It’ll be fine.”
The rest of the period flies by with non-stop babbling with my ASB friends and stolen glances at Travis. He’s really going to drag this out, isn’t he? Or maybe he’ll never forgive me. And we won’t be friends anymore. Just the thought makes me sad. And I miss him even more, if that’s even possible considering he’s walking out of class just a few steps in front of me. He’s only an arm’s length away and I miss him.
He didn’t say one word to me for the rest of the period. And I never noticed him look in my direction. Not once. And I would’ve noticed. I could barely take my eyes off him.
Four
Lunch. I’m hungry.
We grab a spicy chicken from the food cart and amble over to our hill.
The three of us sit in silence as we open the foil wrappers and take our first bites.
I know what my girls are thinking. I’m thinking it too.
“They’re not coming, huh?” Steph finally says.
“I guess not,” I respond, looking around for Travis and Josh.
“Should we text them?” Steph asks.
“You’re kidding, right?” Keesh snaps at her.
“No, I’m not kidding. They’re my friends. And just because we made this pact, I shouldn’t have to stop hanging out with them too. I didn’t hook up with them. You guys did, and now our group is ruined. Josh has sat here with us every day since freshman year. I don’t like being sly, if this is what it’s going to be like.” Steph opens up her rice crispie, hands shaking. She doesn’t eat it, just gazes off into the quad. Then she sets it down and digs in her backpack.
Steph whips out her phone and starts dialing.
“Where are you?” she asks. Both Keesha and I stare at her, my eyes bugging out of my head.
There’s a pause before she says anything again. “Well, that sucks. Come hang with us. It’s weird without you guys here.” Another pause. “Okay, well, you better. Or I’m going to go over there and drag your asses away.” And yet, another pause. “Okay, sounds good. Bye.”
“Who was that?” I ask.
“What did he say?” Keesh asks at the same time.
Steph smiles. “That was Josh. He said they’d eat with us tomorrow. But not every day.”
Well, that’s something. I try to hide my happiness. I ask, “Where are they now?”
“They’re with all the soccer guys.”
Whew. I let out a sigh. That beats them hanging with a bunch of girls.
“You know it’s not fair, right?” Steph says.
Keesh responds, “What’s not fair?”
“Meg,” Steph says, quietly.
“Me? What did I do?”
“Travis spent all last year waiting for you, and then when you finally get together, you put it on hold. Now you expect him to just sit around with Josh and not talk to any girls. If you don’t want him, you shouldn’t get angry if he gets a girlfriend. The guy is fine. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone, if you let him.”
Ouch. If I let him? I’m not stopping him. “If I don’t want him? It’s not about wanting him. I thought we had a plan. Single ladies year, right? Am I missing something?”
Keesh waves her hand at me. “Don’t be dumb. If you really like him and want to be with him, then don’t let the pact get in the way. Get your man.”
“Oh my god. It’s the first day of school and you guys are already willing to ditch the plan,” I squeal at them.
“No, I’m not ditching it. I like Josh and all, but just not like that. Since freshman year, I’ve had a boyfriend, who if you haven’t forgotten is Josh’s best friend. I’m ready to move past those two. I’m ready to have some fun.” Keesh applies some lip gloss and smacks her lips together. “But if you want Travis, don’t let us stop you.”
Cracking open my can of Diet Coke, I think about Trav. About the pool party. About class and I make up my mind. “I’m not gonna lie. I really like him. I do. But like you said, we’ve had boyfriends for the last two years. I need time to myself.”
Steph puts her hand on my shoulder and I glance up at her big brown eyes. “That’s fine, Meg. But please don’t purposely make out with guys in front of him again. And don’t get in the way if he finds someone else either.”
She’s right. “I won’t. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s one of my best friends and I miss him. A lot. I totally screwed things up and need to fix it.”
“Megan, welcome back,” Ms. Gelson says. “Hope you had a great summer.”
I smile at her, as big as possible, showing my pearly whites, hoping that the goofy grin of a teenage girl can mend her broken heart. That is, if she is broken hearted. If a man as hot as Mr. Marino dumped me, I’d hurt like hell.
“My summer was a lot of fun,” I say. “How about you?” Oops. Why did I ask about her summer? I
know how her summer went. She spent it alone. Oh, I’m such an idiot.
“It was okay. You can take the desk over there. Things are going to be slow for a couple of weeks. Won’t be much to grade. I may have you make copies. But for now, you can just chill and do your homework.”
“Sounds good. I’m here if you need me.” She pats my shoulder as I walk by her desk.
“Cute outfit,” she says.
“Thanks.” I’m so going to love this class. Ms. Gelson rocks. Freshman year, I thought she was a mean teacher who wanted to kill us with grammar and non-stop essays including ethos, pathos, and logos, but my writing has never been better. I know more about parts of speech than just nouns, verbs, and adjectives. However, I doubt there’s high demand in the real world for people who can recognize prepositional phrases and transitive verbs. Either way, she understood when we needed her the most. When Keesh started smoking weed and when Eric slept with Amy, Ms. Gelson was there for us. She didn’t pry or anything. She just had our backs. And for that, I’d do anything for her.
One more period to go. Amen.
“How was Ms. G?” Keesh asks, during passing period.
“She seemed fine.”
Steph chimes in, “Hey, did you guys know Ms. G and Mrs. Cruz have been best friends since they were in elementary school?”
Keesh and I shake our heads.
“Cool, huh? That could totally be you two when we’re old,” Steph says. True. Keesh and I have been friends forever.
“Did she say anything about Mr. Marino?” Keesh asks.
“Nope,” Steph responds. “I’ll see you after school. I’ll meet you at the student store.” She trots away to chem while Keesh and I go to history. Sixth period history, two years in a row. Thankfully, we’re not in Mr. Marino’s class again or I’d have to witness Keesh making an ass out of herself for an entire school year, again. I’ve never had a crush on a teacher before, but I get what Keesh sees in him. He’s hot, but he’s also old. No, thank you.
We walk in and there are only two seats left. One in the front and one in the back. Damn these nerds for all being early. Keesh takes the first seat. Good. I hate sitting in the front. I make my way to the back row and suddenly wish I would have taken the other. The only seat left happens to be right next to Travis, who is sitting there looking all cute with his spiral notebook out and a newly sharpened pencil in his hand. He even has a yellow highlighter on his desk. Adorable. I’ve never known a guy to take perfectly organized notes before, but this guy could be one of those paid note-takers you hear about in college.
“Hey,” I say, brushing my fingertips across his arm as I pass.
“Hey,” he says back, not looking up at me.
Mr. Erickson starts babbling about Howard Zinn.
Fighting with my friend has my stomach in knots. “Trav, I want things to be okay with us.”
“Shhh.” He gestures to the front of the class. Whatever. It’s the first day of school for crying out loud. And it’s not like I didn’t whisper.
“I’m serious. I don’t want to fight with you. I miss you, okay?” This time, I whisper a little louder than I mean to.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Erickson saunters toward us. “Is there a problem here?”
“None that we’d care to discuss,” Travis tells him. Oh crap. Here we go. He’s going to get smart with the teacher. On the first day. Again.
“And your name is?”
“Travis.”
He looks at me. “And yours?”
“Megan.”
Walking back to the front of the room, our teacher says, “Well, it seems that Travis and Megan will be our first example of why you should pay attention while I’m addressing the class. If I wanted you to speak, I’d assign it to you. Instead, I’m assigning you both detention. Today. Thirty minutes.”
“What? Thirty minutes? Are you crazy?” Travis argues.
“Make that forty-five minutes. Shall we go for a full hour?”
“No, thank you,” I say. “Forty-five is just fine.”
Mr. Erickson turns his back, and Travis leans toward me. “Thanks, Megan.” If he calls me by my full name again, I’m going to scream.
“Why are you thanking me? A half hour was bad enough, big mouth.”
“Make that an hour,” the teacher roars.
Damn it. Well, that’s enough to get me to shut my trap for the rest of the period. But not enough to ignore uncomfortable glances I keep getting from Travis.
When the bell rings, Keesh comes over. “We can wait for you.”
“Nah, that’s okay. Just go ahead and go home. I’ll be okay.”
“But I don’t want you to walk home by yourself, Meggie.”
“I’ll walk with her,” Travis says.
My eyes dart to his. There’s a smile in his eyes, even if he’s trying not to show it. Yes.
“I’ll call you tonight,” Keesh says, before leaving.
For the next hour, Travis and I read our textbooks and copy terms and definitions from the first four chapters. Not exactly rocket science, but just as difficult when you can’t talk or look at the person next to you that you’ve been dying to talk to for days. Mr. Erickson made it very clear he didn’t want to catch us even glancing at each other or we’d be here tomorrow for another hour of detention. Once is bad enough.
“Time’s up. You may go.”
“What do you want us to do with the terms?” Travis asks.
“You can keep them or trash them. We’re not using that textbook this year.”
Travis’s nostrils flare. “That’s fucked up,” he mumbles under his breath.
“What was that, young man?”
“He said ‘that was … fun,’” I blurt out.
Five
Travis plows through the door as we make our way outside. If I wasn’t so interested in having some time to talk to him, I’d be pissed about having detention too. But I’d kind of just like to have my friend back.
“You don’t have to walk with me if you don’t want to,” I tell him as we cross the street, leaving campus.
“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t,” he says, which is so true. He never does anything he doesn’t want to.
“Wanna come over?” I ask.
“Yeah, why not? I miss your mom. It seems like forever since I seen her last.” He rests his hand on the back of my neck as we walk and the gesture makes me tingle all over. Sparks fly through my body in all directions.
Oh god, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. “She won’t be home until late. She has Bunco tonight with the Blockheads.”
Travis shakes his head. “She’s too funny.”
“Tell me about it. It took her an hour last night just to pick out which Danny shirt she was going to wear.”
“Well, at least it makes her happy, right?”
“I guess.” I steal a glance at him and our eyes meet. He smiles. “So it’s just me. Do you still want to come over?”
“Umm. I don’t know now. Let me think about it.”
I elbow him in the side, laughing. He pulls me in for a side hug and places a kiss on the top of my head. I wrap my arm around his side and rest my head against his shoulder as we walk the rest of the way home.
We toss our bags in the living room and go to the kitchen for something to drink.
Within seconds of removing my vest, Travis exclaims, “What did you do to your shirt?”
“I made it into a tank top.”
“What happened to the sides?” he asks, poking his fingers through the holes in the material.
“I thought I’d put some slits in, but it got to be a little too…revealing. That’s why I wore the vest.”
He brushes his fingertips against my bare skin peeking through the openings. “I like it.”
“I bet you do,” I tell him, trying to steady my breathing as his touch brands my flesh. Oh shit, we’re going past the buddy stage. Again. “I can’t believe we wore the same thing today.” I have to say something to change the subject. I
open the fridge, distancing myself from him. “Want a Coke or water?”
“Cold, cold, water.” He leans against the counter and I look him up and down, and want to pounce on him like a mountain lion on a fresh piece of meat.
“Yeah, I could use some cold water too.” Or a cold shower. Ice cold shower.
“Maybe I should tell you what I’m wearing tomorrow so you don’t bite my outfit again,” he says.
“Me? I didn’t bite anything off you. I’m the one who saw this shirt first. You wouldn’t have even bought it if it wasn’t for me.”
“Bullshit. You didn’t even know who Run DMC was until I made you that playlist.”
“So,” I yell at him, sounding like a four year old. “You totally did this on purpose. You knew I’d wear this today. Let me know the next time you plan on wearing it so we don’t have a repeat, okay?”
“Oh, you won’t have to worry about that,” he yells back. He puts his hand over the back of his neck and yanks the shirt off in one swift move. “Here, you can have it. I don’t need the memories.” He tosses the shirt at me.
“Fine,” I shout. “But I don’t want the memories either.” I yank my shirt off and throw it on the floor. Take that.
We both stare at each other. Breathing fast and hard, I look up and down his bronze chest, golden happy trail, and the shape of his V leading my eyes like a flashing arrow to the bulge pulsing through his shorts. Wow. My eyes catch his, gazing at my chest. I look down and notice my cleavage plumping out of the top of my black miracle bra which has definitely performed some kind of awakening in Travis.
In a split second, Travis closes the distance between us and his lips crush against mine. His soft skin beneath the palms of my hands is hot and moist, as his tongue pushes into my mouth. I love his kisses. Our lips seal together and our tongues slide past each other in slow, deep pulses. He pulls me closer, pressing my chest to his, and I realize this is all new to me. I’ve never been this undressed with a boy before. And I’ve never been kissed like this. My mind is cloudy with lust and if he threw me on my kitchen counter right now and tore my clothes off, I wouldn’t stop him. It’s that good.
Double Time (Double Threat series) Page 3