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A First Time for Everything

Page 9

by Isabel Morin


  I turn the corner and there’s Jen. She looks up and smiles when she sees me coming, and guilt chokes me. I take a few deep breaths and tell myself there’s nothing to freak out about. First of all, nothing has happened with Casey yet. Secondly, buying clothes has nothing to do with him.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask when I reach her. “You really don’t have to.”

  “Sure, it’ll be fun.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Let’s run through your priorities. What do we need to be focusing on?”

  “Mostly I need shirts, but also a few skirts. And maybe leggings. I want to be sexy, but not, you know, too sexy.”

  “And our budget?”

  I still have the birthday money my dad sent me in August. “Three hundred dollars.”

  “We can work with that.”

  Jen always looks great, even when she doesn’t really try. She’s one of those people with innate style, so no matter what she wears, it’s right. If I wasn’t hiding my arrangement with Casey, I’d be thrilled that she’s helping me.

  We head into Faces, the one clothing store in town where I can afford to shop. They cater to the college crowd, so I should be able to find stuff here.

  We spend the next two hours digging through the racks and discussing our selections with the seriousness of generals planning an invasion. I make numerous trips to the dressing room with Jen waiting right outside the door to give her opinion.

  “You look amazing,” she declares as I emerge yet again.

  I turn to the full-length mirror and admire the way the pretty teal sweater looks like it might slip off my shoulder but never does—sort of classy and sexy at the same time. “It looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

  “I love it. That color is great on you.”

  The last thing left to try on this round is a chocolate-colored, ribbed sweater dress that stops a few inches above my knees.

  “I don’t know about this,” I say, coming out of the dressing room. “It doesn’t feel like me.”

  “You look spectacular. I would kill to be able to pull off a dress like that.”

  I turn back to the mirror and imagine Casey looking at me. I can almost see the way his eyes would gleam. Except, I’m really supposed to be thinking about Brian. I can’t be thinking about Casey, especially when I’m with Jen.

  They’re having a buy one, get the second half off sale on select items, so I get a top I like in pink and black, plus a couple of cute skirts, one denim and one corduroy. Their leggings are really cheap, so I grab a pair of those, too.

  We’re on our way to the cash register when I see a sexy black top with the shoulders cut out.

  “Hey, you’d look awesome in this,” I say, holding it up.

  “Today’s your day. I don’t need anything.”

  “If you’re sure.” I eye the top a few more seconds before hanging it on the rack.

  “You want that shirt.”

  “Me? I couldn’t wear something like that.” But I can’t seem to move away from it.

  “Try it on and see what you think.”

  “I can’t afford it anyway. I’ll go over budget.”

  She looks at the tag. “It’s almost the same price as those shirts. You could get this instead of the black one.”

  So I try it on, then stand there in the dressing room in some sort of identity crisis. Is this me? Am I ready to be the girl in the mirror? Can I pull this off?

  Maybe my lessons with Casey will turn me into someone who can live up to this shirt.

  “Hannah?”

  “I’m coming,” I say, taking a deep breath as I step out of the stall.

  She looks me straight in the eye in that way she has, like she won’t tolerate idiocy. “You’re buying that, right?”

  I feel the urge to hem and haw so that she can convince me, but instead I just say, “Yes.”

  She nods. “My work here is done.”

  I pay for my purchases and we emerge into the light of day again.

  “I’m starving,” I tell her. “Are you starving?

  “I’m always hungry after I shop.”

  I invite her up to the snack bar in Taylor, my treat. Unlike in town, I can use my ID and the charge will go straight to my college account.

  We’ve only just started eating the brownie sundae we’re sharing when Casey walks in. Jen’s back is to the door so she can’t see him, and I can only pray he’ll come and go without her spotting him.

  “So how are things going with Brian?” she asks, taking a bite.

  I avert my eyes from Casey and focus on Jen. “Fine. I had dinner with him a couple days ago.”

  “But you’ve slept with him, right?”

  My whole body goes tense. “Actually, no. I haven’t gotten around to it.”

  “You’re too much, you know that? I’ve never seen anyone with so much restraint. I’d be working off my stress with him every night if I were you. Or don’t you like him?”

  I dig into the sundae, trying to get the perfect bite while avoiding her eye. Not only am I keeping how well I know Casey a secret, I can’t let her know why I won’t get more serious with Brian. The whole thing feels kind of sucky, but at least it’s a sin of omission. I’m not actually lying to her.

  “I like him okay, I guess. I haven’t decided. Anyway, I’ve got too much work to do to worry about him. What about you and Frank?” I ask, hoping to distract her.

  “I’m still considering it, but he asks really dumb questions in class. I have my eye on another guy now.”

  Casey reaches the front of the line and places his order. Jen freezes at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide, then turns around and sees him there.

  When she turns back to me, she looks fierce. “How long has he been there?”

  “Who, Casey? I don’t know.”

  “Do you think he heard me? Oh God, I bet he heard me.”

  “Jen, he’s nowhere near us. Anyway, what does it matter?”

  It’s a stupid question, but lately her fixation on Casey seems really out there, probably because he’s no longer some random guy she can’t stop talking about. He’s sort of my friend. Or something. At any rate, he’s a real person.

  She leans in, her voice a harsh whisper. “You’re supposed to help me land him. That was our agreement.”

  I have no idea what to say to that. I can’t believe she’s holding me to that ridiculous promise we made. “I’m sorry,” I finally mutter. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  She’s not even looking at me, though. Casey has his food and is scanning the room looking for a place to sit.

  “Hey, Casey,” Jen says, waving, her face all lit up.

  I stifle a groan as he weaves his way between tables. He smiles as he reaches us, and it’s the high wattage, genuine smile that lights panties on fire. I stare at him, telepathically begging him not to sit, but he doesn’t get the message.

  “Hey, guys. Mind if I sit here?”

  Jen beams. “Not at all.”

  “Hey, Jen. What’s up, Hannah?” he says, dragging an empty chair from another table. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

  God, just what I need. Jen’ll be asking me why I see him, what we talk about, why I never said anything, and on and on. The worst part is that soon I’ll have an actual secret to hide.

  I take a bite of our sundae, which is starting to get soupy. “I’ve been busy with papers.”

  “I was wondering if I could get your opinion on something,” he says. “I put together a plan for this student I’m tutoring. I thought maybe you could tell me what you think, see if I’m covering all the bases.”

  His tone is completely bland, but there’s no mistaking what he’s talking about. On the one hand, at least I know he’s not going to blow off our lessons. On the other hand there
’s Jen, frowning, her eyes darting between the two of us.

  “Who are you tutoring?” she asks, all spritely interest.

  “Oh, just this senior who’s having trouble in one of her subjects,” he says. “There’s some stuff she should know by now, and she wants to catch up.”

  “I used to tutor in high school. I could take a look if you wanted.”

  Casey looks startled. “Oh, thanks. I’m still kind of working on it, though.”

  “Do you have my number? You can text me if you need anything.”

  She gave him her number after they had sex the one time, but he never called her. He probably deleted it.

  “Right. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I have it…”

  But Jen’s not leaving anything to chance. She recites her number, and Casey dutifully enters it in his phone.

  This is so not the Jen I know. She’s smart and down to earth, witty and funny and cynical. And aware. Yet here she is, still pining over a guy she slept with one time. It’s painful to watch her turn herself inside out.

  “I’d better get going,” he says, though he’s barely eaten anything. He wraps his food back up and stands. “Have a good one.”

  Jen’s silent as she watches him leave, but as soon as he’s gone, she turns to me. “So are you two friends now or something?”

  “I told you, we’re on the same floor. I see him around, that’s all.”

  Okay, that one is definitely a lie. My face gets hot, but it’s not guilt so much as anger. Why can’t she just leave it alone?

  She slumps back in her chair. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just jealous that you get to see him.” She gives the melted ice cream a listless stir. “Do you think he seemed glad to see me?”

  “Jen, you know how he is. He doesn’t get serious about anyone.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted something serious. I just want to hang out.”

  “The same thing would happen again.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know he doesn’t think twice about going from one girl to the next.”

  This is not my proudest moment. Casey’s a decent guy, and I’ve never heard him say anything nasty. But Jen’s fantasy is coming way too close to my reality, and it’s freaking me out.

  “Well, you haven’t kissed him,” she says, her eyes glittering with anger and frustration. “I have, and it’s worth a little trouble to do it again.”

  Resentment and jealousy clog my chest as I picture Jen kissing Casey. But Jen’s not done yet.

  “Some of us think about more than getting into med school. I don’t understand how you can go through college without being into a single guy. Don’t you feel anything?”

  I can’t believe she’s talking to me like this in a room full of people. My voice is a horrified whisper. “Jen.”

  “I have to go,” she says, getting up so fast her chair nearly tips over.

  The guy sitting behind her manages to catch it in time, but Jen doesn’t even acknowledge him. She’s already halfway to the door, and then she’s gone.

  I sit there, too stunned to move. People are looking at me, curious, but it doesn’t take long for them to go back to their conversations. Slowly I gather our napkins and bowl of neglected ice cream and put them in the bus bucket.

  The thing is, I can’t even be full of righteous anger. She was totally out of line with that last bit, but not only did I outright lie to her, I have no intention of cancelling my lessons.

  I can only hope she doesn’t find out.

  Which she just might, if Casey thinks this is all a game. Where does he get off doing that in public?

  I charge up the stairs two at a time, primed to do battle with him, and knock on his door. He opens it, his expression going from pleased to wary when he sees my face. I push past him and shove the door closed.

  “I hate to break it to you, Casey, but you’re going to have to be a little more discreet.”

  “I was only teasing. There’s no way she knows what I was talking about.”

  “She doesn’t know, but she’s wondering just how friendly we are, which I so do not need.”

  “She seemed to think I might call her.”

  “You do know you had sex with her last year, right?”

  He has the grace to look embarrassed. “Well, yeah. But I mean, it was kind of a drunken thing and not all that great, if you want to know the truth.”

  Obviously, Jen thought otherwise, but I’m not going there. “I don’t want her thinking something’s going on between us.”

  “Everyone’s going to think that if they see you coming and going from my room. Derek saw you the other day.”

  “You were sick. Obviously, we weren’t…you know.”

  “My reputation precedes me,” he says, grinning.

  “You don’t have to look so proud of it.”

  “I’ll be more careful, okay? Every second we’re not in this room, I’ll treat you with casual disdain. Will that make you feel better?”

  “Yes.”

  He’s trying not to laugh, and despite how worked up I am, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. It’s impossible not to respond to him. Besides, I’m really angrier at myself than Casey. I’m the one breaking the friend code, not him.

  “So about that syllabus,” I say. Because it’s been three days since he agreed to my plan, and the anticipation is killing me.

  “Oh, it’s a good one. Very thorough.”

  “You didn’t actually write it down, did you?”

  “No. I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands. It’s all up here,” he says, tapping his head.

  “When should…” My breath hitches as my heart pumps madly in my chest. “When did you want to start?”

  “I’m free right now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Every hair on my body stands on end. All it takes is the change in his voice and I know I’m in over my head.

  “But aren’t you still sick?” I sound desperate, like I’m coming up with reasons not to do this.

  “I’m fully recovered,” he says, coming toward me. “Thanks to you.”

  Somehow, I end up with my back to the door. Like I’ve been cornered, only I asked for this. I want this, but it’s become real, and the reality of Casey is more than I know what to do with. Standing this close to me he’s so tall I’d have to look up to meet his eye, which I don’t even try to do. I look at his mouth instead, the full lower lip and softly bowed upper one.

  This man was made for kissing.

  I wanted to be shown what I should have learned in high school, but Casey’s no high school boy.

  “I can see your pulse beating right here,” he says, his voice low and rough as his thumb skims my throat.

  I stop breathing, my whole body humming as every cell wakes up. My pulse pounds where he touches me, and in my wrists, between my legs.

  He puts his hands on my hips and leans closer, his voice a warm flutter at my ear. “Nervous?”

  He’s so close I could cup his cheek, thread my fingers through his hair. I shut my eyes and nod, trying not to think of Eric, of how I might hate this or ruin it.

  “It’s supposed to make you nervous. That’s when it’s really good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough and so sexy my toes curl into the floor and my body sags against the door.

  “What are you waiting for?” I ask, my voice high and breathy. He’s barely touched me, and I’m already beside myself.

  “There’s more to kissing than kissing.”

  His hands come up on either side of me, caging me in, so close but still not touching me. Then his lips are on mine, soft and undemanding as they graze over me. When he breaks contact, I open my eyes to find him watching me, and the heat in his eyes draws me toward him.

  I guess that’s all he needed, because when he kisses me again it�
��s sure and knowing and I’m already falling under his spell. There’s no demand, just the building of sensations. So easy and natural and necessary. Gradually it changes and his tongue licks into me, a playful, teasing taste before he retreats. He changes the angle and takes more, teaching me how to respond. I follow his lead, taking and withdrawing.

  “That’s it, babe, open up for me,” he says, his voice rough and breathless.

  The kiss turns slow and deep, like he’s savoring how I taste. I should have known Casey’s kisses would be as potent as any drug. Already I’m an addict. Everything—his hands on me, the texture of his skin, the rasp of his breath—combines to form a universe of our own. He’s all I feel or remember, warm skin and taut muscle, my breasts crushed to his chest as we struggle to get closer.

  I drag my hands down his strong back and press myself against him, aching for more.

  He pulls away. “You okay?”

  “Yes, why? Did I do something wrong?” I ask, my heart sinking.

  “God, no. You feel amazing. It’s just that you made a sound.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I just wanted to make sure. I’m having a hard time thinking straight right now.”

  “Me, too. You’re an amazing kisser.” I can hear how naïve that sounds, how girlish, but I can’t think how else to say it. And then, because this is a lesson and I need to know— “Am I doing it right?”

  “You’re just about killing me. I don’t think it could be any better.”

  “Can we do it some more?” I ask him, desire making me bold.

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “This time I want to kiss you.”

  Casey goes completely still, like he’s gone on high alert, and he gives a shaky laugh. “Okay, but go easy on me. I’m not made of stone.”

  “You could have fooled me,” I tease, because I can feel how hard he is for me.

  “You got that right,” he says, his voice rougher now.

  I put my hands on his shoulders and press my lips to his, grazing them like he did to me. Only I already know I need more than this. Excitement kicks my heart into a gallop as I kiss him the way he taught me, openmouthed, slow and savoring. His hands rest lightly on my hips, and I somehow know he’s holding back so I can have control.

 

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