Travis’s hands travel up and down my body, and then I feel one of his palms down the back of my shorts cupping my bare ass and he draws me toward him again. Oh shit. This is too good. Wait, I said that already. But it really is.
I peel my lips away from his with a whimper.
Travis pats my ass and mutters, “We should stop.”
Squeezing him tight, I sprinkle gentle kisses on his warm chest. “Yeah, probably.”
I feel his lips press against my forehead, and then he bends down to pick up our clothes.
He hands me my shirt and we both get dressed.
“You know, we really did look cute today,” I tell him. “If we were a couple.”
“But we’re not,” he reminds me.
“I know.”
He runs his hand through his hair, messing up his gel. “What are we doing, Meg?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like I planned this. I just want us to go back to being friends. I wanted you to come over and hang out like we usually do. Watch movies, talk, play cards.”
“Yeah, but then it always leads back to this.”
“Is that so bad? I thought you were enjoying yourself.” I raise my brows at him.
He grins. “I was, but I don’t want to be friends with benefits. I don’t want to come over here and kiss you and then see you with other guys.” His pained expression kills me. “How’s David, by the way?”
“Not for me. Haven’t talked to him since the pool incident.”
“Incident? Didn’t look like an incident. Looked like you were having a damn good time.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
He tugs on one of my belt loops. “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist. “So, what are we gonna do?”
“Not this. That’s for sure. We can be friends but no more kissing or touching.” I hug him tighter. “I mean it, Meg. And if you’re going out with other people, if I find someone, I’m going for it. I’m not waiting around for you for another year. You’re one of my best friends and I can live with you being just that. I don’t need this,” he squeezes my ass, “to complicate things.”
“Fine.” I sigh, releasing him. But then I look up at him with a devilish grin. “Should we kiss on it?”
“Sure.”
We did. We kissed on it. And we haven’t kissed since. It’s been three weeks and while my lips still haven’t recovered from that afternoon, I haven’t wanted to ruin it by jumping back in Travis’s arms. Not that he would let me. He’s put on the friend hat and doesn’t seem to be willing to take it off any time soon. I’m glad he’s strong. I have no willpower whatsoever when it comes to his kisses.
Other than abstaining from making out with my good friend, everything else seems to be business as usual. Tonight is the spirit game. We’ve been making posters all week in class. The boys have been building stuff for the junior float. The freshmen look lost as usual but none of us help them. It’s like a rite of passage. We didn’t get any help our ninth grade year and our float looked like ass. It’s just something we all go through, not that it matters how great we do anyway. The seniors could go out with nothing but a roll of toilet paper thrown around their flatbed trailer and they’d still win. We’ll be there soon enough, so I don’t really care.
All I know is when the junior float makes it around the track at half-time, our class better make some noise. I want to hear screaming, yelling, and stomping on bleacher seats. I want the seniors to know they may have won, but they didn’t deserve it.
At the half, we’re winning 24-0. There’s a new guy on defense who’s totally killing it. I don’t know where he came from but I’m glad we got him. He’s like the high school version of DeMarcus Ware. He flies off the line like a 747 and sacks the quarterback before he can get a chance to set his feet. He can block, tackle, and run. With his skills, we may just have a shot at winning more than one game this season.
Just before we board our float—a flatbed truck decked out with balloons, signs, and three large jail cells that each house a freshman, sophomore, and senior—Josh tries to pump everyone up. We huddle around him while he yells, “One, two, three,” and we yell back, “Junior victory.” Being that he’s CHS royalty, it’s not hard to get our group going. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the other classes joined in. He’s the big baseball star and everyone loves him. Even the guys. You’d think with him being as good as he is, there’d be some haters out there. But no. Josh is way too goofy and easygoing for anyone to dislike him. He looks like Woody from Toy Story all dressed up like a sheriff.
With a western theme, we all look like we just stepped off the farm. Hay litters the floor of the truck, and we dance to Cotton Eyed Joe as the float makes its way onto the football track. The crowd roars when Josh’s voice bellows from the bullhorn, shouting our class chant. We should have had him join ASB a long time ago. Our class is on fire. I’ve never heard them this loud before. We could actually win this thing.
When the seniors come out, we can still hear our group yelling, “Junior victory.” Awesome. We can barely hear the seniors shouting, “Seniors. We Rule.”
Mr. Mitchell takes the mic dressed in chaps, a leather vest, and cowboy hat. “Yeehaw,” he shouts to the masses. Everyone claps and yells back at him. “This may come as a surprise to you all, but this year’s winner of spirit night is the … Juniors.”
And the roars continue. We did it. We finally won.
Six
“How did I let you guys talk me into this?” Steph asks as we hike up a mountain.
Keesh and I giggle. “What do you mean? How could you say no to strip twister in the cold, dark woods?” I respond.
“Well, when you put it that way…very easily.”
“Take a chill pill, Steph, it’ll be okay,” Keesh tells her.
Josh takes her hand. “Just hold on to me. You’ll be fine,” he says, catching her as she slips on a rock.
“Yeah, just fine,” Travis says, as he passes them.
There have to be about fifty people already gathered around a few tables, coolers, and camp lights when we finally make it to our destination near a barely trickling creek. When Keesh mentioned starting a fire, one of the seniors laughed. Apparently, it creates a smoke signal tipping off the cops that a bunch of teenagers are drinking in the area marked off as “Private Property.” I guess we can do with candles and battery-operated lamps. Sounds much better than getting arrested for trespassing.
Travis and Josh give us some space. We didn’t ask for it this time. Maybe we’re getting used to being just friends. Or not. Licha—Leeeeeeecha—just planted a kiss on his cheek and I want to punch her in her gorgeous face. Doesn’t that girl eat? She probably does Pilates or something. It’s unnatural for a teenager to have a body like that.
“Meggie,” Steph says, reaching for my arm. “Put your claws back in. Let him have some fun.”
I know. I know. “Why can’t he have fun with an ugly chick?”
We both laugh until we start snorting, and Keesh says, “Who’s the new guy? I haven’t seen him before.”
Steph and I turn to see who she’s gesturing to. I’ve never seen him either but by the look on Steph’s face, she has. “Who is he, Steph?” I ask.
“He’s on the football team. He’s the guy who won the game for us,” she says with a dreamy smile. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him.
“Wow, he was good. You should go talk to him.”
“She might not have to,” Keesh says. “He’s coming our way. Let me take care of this for you, girl.”
We watch as Keesh walks toward him, and nonchalantly bumps into Mr. Defense as she passes him. Well, nothing about her is nonchalant. She definitely wouldn’t win an Oscar for her performance, but it worked because he’s coming back with her.
“Hey, girls, this is the stud we have to thank for a winning football season this year,” Keesh says, with an arm linked in his.
“It’s about time our prayers were
answered,” I tell him. “I don’t know if I could stomach another year of missed tackles and quarterbacks who throw bombs all over our D.”
“Watch football much?” he asks.
“She’s a Cowboys fan,” Keesh explains. “She can talk football more than any boy I know.”
“That shouldn’t be hard. I saw the guys you showed up with. Baseball? Come on now. I bet the other guy plays soccer.”
Okay, is he seriously talking shit about Travis and Josh? I don’t care how many sacks he got tonight. He’s a jerk.
He must sense the anger radiating from me because he quickly backtracks. “Not that there’s anything wrong with other sports or anything.”
“Yeah.” That’s what I thought.
Steph is still in a trance until he acknowledges her. “Do you like football?”
“Me?” She wakes from her stupor. “Yeah. Sure.”
“I’m Ethan,” he tells her, offering a hand. “And you are?”
She takes his hand. “Stephanie. You look great.” She shakes his hand. “I mean, you looked great tonight.”
“Thanks. Would you like to go grab a drink with me, Stephanie?”
She nods as she walks away with him.
“Oh shit,” Keesh squeals. “She’s a goner. Did you see her face?”
“Yeah. So much for her being worried about coming up here. She’s come a long way from thinking guys were going to slip a roofie into our drinks.”
Keesh chuckles. “I know, right?”
“Hey, are you guys playing?” Eric asks.
We quickly glance at each other and shrug. “Yeah.”
Eric hands us each a number and we wait, having no idea what the number is for or what it means.
Shit. Frankie’s here. That means Ben isn’t too far behind. I scour the crowd. There’s no sign of him and a feeling of relief comes over me. Eventually, Eric’s older brother stands on a table and shouts.”Okay, ya’ll. We have four different Twister boards going. Each player has a number. There should be two guys and two girls at each board. Once the game gets started, anyone who falls has to take something off. Then you get back into the game.” He goes on to explain it’s a tournament. Once two people lose at one game—meaning they’re naked or refuse to disrobe any further—then the other two people advance to the next round. There are three rounds total. Dang. By the time the championship round comes around, the winners—or losers, really—are going to be pretty chilly.
I look at my number. Three. “What do you have Keesh?”
“Two.”
“At least we’re not playing against each other.”
“I guess, but I’d rather have your nakedness next to me than someone I don’t know.”
“You have a point,” I say as we make our way to our official Twister stations.
I laugh when I see who’s at Keesh’s game. Josh, Travis, and Licha. Poor girl. No such thing as luck for her. I look at Steph and put my hands up. She makes a gesture like she’s slitting her throat and shakes her head. I guess she’s not playing.
I find board #3 and laugh even more when I see Thelma standing there. If that girl falls two times, she’s going to be naked. She’s only wearing jeans and a spaghetti strap tank. She’s, for sure, not wearing a bra by the looks of her brown eyes staring at me through her shirt. And she’s well known for not wearing any panties. The girl doesn’t even have any shoes on. I’m so going to win the first round.
I turn back to Keesh and the boys, signal over at Thelma, and make a face. Keesh’s hand shoots up to her mouth. Josh puts his hand on her shoulder, and Travis says, “Oh, fuck no.”
Really, it’s funny. But Thelma’s not so bad to warrant that type of reaction. I didn’t say fuck no when I saw Licha standing there with Travis. Although the thought of any part of her perfectly-shaped naked body touching him makes me want to vomit in my mouth.
The fury in his eyes is unmistakable.
I turn around to see what he’s sneering at. It’s Ben. But right behind him is … Alex.
Travis takes a step toward me, but then backs off.
“It’s okay, Trav.”
Alex smiles and holds up a number. Three.
He waves and closes the gap between us. “Hey, babe” is all he says before wrapping his arms around me just like old times. I haven’t felt his arms around me in months. I’m surprised that I’m not melting in them right now. Well, not entirely.
“Hi.” I unravel myself and move toward Ben. “What are you guys doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. This was supposed to be our party and then all of you guys started showing up.”
“Oh” is all I manage to say.
“Look, are you sure you still want to play?” Ben asks me. I look around and it’s as if time is standing still. People are whispering, watching this little reunion play out before their eyes.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “Let’s play.”
“Wanna shot?” he asks, taking out a flask.
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. I rip the thing from his hand and take a big gulp of metallic tasting tequila. “Wow” The heat trails all the way down to my belly and I exhale a hot breath.
“I think everyone has found their places and we have a spinner for each group. Let the games begin so your dicks and tits can sway in the wind.” Nice. Very poetic, Frankie.
Taking a final look at Travis before we start, I force a smile at him. And he does the same for me. This is totally awkward for everyone involved.
The spinner acts quickly as we all plant our hands and feet in various places on the mat when Frankie calls out directions. Alex falls first after being pinned under Thelma. He kicks off a shoe.
A few minutes later, Alex and I are almost face to face, and Ben is curled around my legs, with Thelma under him. Typical, she’s always under someone.
“Having fun, babe?” Alex asks me.
My brows crumple. “Sure, but I’m not your babe.”
“Don’t be like that, Meggie.”
Moving my right hand to a red circle next to my left hand leads me away from Alex’s stare. I don’t know what “that” means, but I’m not being it. It’s just… we’re not a couple anymore. I don’t see why he thinks it’s okay to call me babe. We’re done. Over. We can be friends, unless he ruins it, which seems to be the case right now.
This time Thelma falls. She stands up straight, unbuttons her jeans, slides down the zipper, and shimmies out of her pants like she’s a regular at a strip club. What a performance. At least she’s wearing a G-string. She must get a Brazilian because she’s definitely sportin’ a hairless cat. Hairless or not, if her crack comes anywhere near my face, I quit.
Ben’s next move places him right on top of me—his chest to my back and his cheek to mine. “Ready for another shot?”
“Hell, yes,” I tell him.
“Okay, on the count of three, we’ll both fall, take a shot, take off a shoe, and get back in the game.”
“Deal.”
On three, we both fall on the mat laughing. I unlace one of my Chucks while Ben takes off his hoodie. He takes a drink and then passes it to me. I swig again, and we get back to it.
This isn’t so bad. At least Keesh is still fully dressed. I notice Josh is missing a shoe and a sock. I think Travis is shoeless and I can’t get a good look at Licha. Dang it.
When we’re face to face again, Ben passes the time between moves by asking about Travis. “Looks like you two are talking again.”
“Yeah. Things are much better.”
“Good,” he tells me before making his next move.
Just when I think this game could go on forever, Thelma gets trapped and can’t make another move without falling. Surprisingly, she’s unwilling to take off her G, and she exits the game.
“Looks like it’s just little old me and you two boys,” I tell them.
“Actually, it’s just us,” Alex says. “Only a guy and girl move on. So you’re in. But don’t worry, babe, I got this.” He winks at me
. His arrogance is really starting to piss me off.
“Let’s go, Ben. Kick ass,” I shout. He better not fall or I’m going to kick his ass myself.
When all is said and done, Alex is the winner. But he didn’t make it easy. I swear he practically sat on top of Ben until his ass hit the mat. What a big cheater.
Round two sucks ass. I’ve never had any luck in my life so far, so why should I get it now, right? Next up: me, Licha, Travis, and Alex.
“This should be interesting,” Ben whispers, as we stand on one side of the mat with my opponents on the other.
“You’re a shithead. You were supposed to win.”
“Hey, I tried. You saw what he did.” He looks down, like he wants to say something.
“What is it?”
“You sure you want to know?” I nod, and he continues, “I think he wants you back, Meg.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He told me.”
“Oh.” I take the flask from his hands and suck back another shot.
“So what do you think?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.” I pause. “Actually, I’m really not that interested. He was right. He’s a lot older than me. I’m only sixteen. I can’t even drive yet and he’s in his second year of college. What’s wrong with him for wanting a girl in high school when there’s a bunch of girls his age probably willing and ready to take care of his every need?”
He doesn’t say anything at first, but then adds, “I don’t think it’s about anything being wrong with him or other girls, I think it’s what’s right about you.”
“You’re too good to me, Ben.” I put my hand on his. “But I still don’t think I’m interested.”
He stands, yanks me to him, and hugs me. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Really?”
He releases me and we walk over to where round two is getting ready to begin. “Yeah. He’s my friend, but I think you’re better off with Travis or someone else your age. For now, anyway.”
“Thanks, Ben.”
“Anytime.” He ruffles my hair as I join my opponents.
“You ready?” I ask Travis as he struts toward me.
Double Time (Double Threat series) Page 4