Unexpected

by Meg Jolie

  I took just a few moments. Just loving the way it felt to be that close to him. He rested his head on top of mine as he squeezed me into his hug. Just like always, he smelled so good. I was still chilled from sledding and he felt so warm. Being with him always just felt so perfect and in that moment, it was no different.

  “Okay,” I finally admitted. “That’s a lie. I was thinking about what happens next fall. When I leave. I mean…if you and I…”

  “Are still together?” he hesitantly asked. “I was wondering that too. But I didn’t want to bring it up. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I mean, in some ways it’s a long way off, like you said. And in other ways, it really isn’t. I was wondering if you just figured we’d…I don’t know...fizzle out sooner rather than later? Or if you just planned on us maybe ending then?”

  “Like a set expiration date?” I asked. I was unsure of what I thought about that. Logically, it may have even made sense. But emotionally? I didn’t like it one bit.

  “I guess,” he said. “But then I thought maybe it wasn’t an issue. Maybe you haven’t even thought about it because you don’t think we’ll last that long anyway.”

  “Tristan,” I said. My tone was full of mock-frustration. I gave his chest a small nudge. “When are you going to get it? I feel the same way you do!”

  He laughed at that. “I’m not so sure that you do. You do realize I’ve had a crush on you since grade school right?”

  I smiled as I nodded. “I know. So I guess that just means that when the time comes, we’ll have an amicable break-up. And go our separate ways.” I sounded glum. It made Tristan smile.

  “Or,” he suggested, “we don’t worry about it now. And we decide what works best for us when the time comes.”

  “You mean something other than breaking up?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Like what?” I asked. “Like a long-distance relationship?”

  “It could be done. Since Jamie will be down there, I’m sure my family will be going down more than we do now. I mean, we already go twice a year to visit my grandparents. If Jamie’s down there, we’ll go at least that much. Maybe more. If we’re together, I’d definitely find a way to get down there a few times. And you’ll be coming home for holidays and breaks, I would guess.” I nodded and he let out a breath as he continued. “I know it wouldn’t be ideal but it could work.”

  I thought that over. He was right. It wasn’t ideal. But the alternative? Breaking up? That sounded even worse. Granted, I was getting ahead of myself. I knew that. But right then, I didn’t like the idea of Tristan and me ending. Besides, we were just speculating. Nothing would be set in stone.

  “It would just be for a year. Well, not even,” I pointed out. “It would be for the school year. Just nine months. I plan on coming home for the summer. That doesn’t sound...terrible.”

  “It doesn’t sound great, either,” he admitted. “Besides, who knows where we’ll be by then.”

  I nodded. He was right. An awful lot could happen in the next six months. He could decide that he’s been under a false illusion of me all this time. He could decide that I’m really not all that interesting or even remotely loveable. I could decide that he’s completely not my type after all.

  Or, things could just continue the way they were headed now. And I would be so far in over my head that I wouldn’t be able to climb out when it was time to go.

  “No matter what happens, promise me we’ll at least always stay friends, though. Okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, definitely,” I agreed. I couldn’t imagine my life without Tristan in it.

  He was watching me with an indecipherable look on his face. It made me feel…squirmy.

  “Now what are you thinking about?” I demanded.

  A smirk worked its way onto his face. “Can you keep a secret from my sister?”

  His tone sounded teasing. So I decide to tease him back. “Not likely.”

  His face seemed to cloud over a bit. Instead of responding, he leaned in for a kiss. For a moment I found myself wondering if he was kissing me because he wanted to kiss me…Or if he was kissing me to keep me from questioning him.

  After a few seconds, I didn’t care. I felt his hands slide to my hips as he hoisted me onto the countertop. It took a whole lot less effort than it had for him to haul me into the house that first night. I thought to myself it must’ve been the bulkiness of our jackets. And then I wasn’t thinking much of anything as I closed my eyes and let Tristan’s kiss completely overtake me. I managed to forget about my inevitable move to Florida as I ran my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He had his arms around me. His fingers danced across the skin on my back, right above the waist of my jeans.

  He broke away for just a moment to kiss my neck and then his mouth was back on mine.

  I fleetingly thought of the cocoa and was glad I’d moved it to a cool burner.

  Other than that, I didn’t think of anything other than how I never tired of kissing Tristan. And somehow, the melody of a classic rock song playing in the background, one that Tristan had sung to me before, seemed entirely appropriate for the moment.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me. When his lips moved to my neck once again, I let out a moan.

  “Oh!”

  The startled half shriek nearly caused me to shriek as I jerked away from Tristan. His eyes met mine and he looked so guilty I almost laughed. He stood facing me for a second, as if regaining his composure. Then he turned around.

  “Mom!” I said as Tristan stepped aside. He was still cringing and my cheeks were burning. “I didn’t think you were coming home so early!”

  “Obviously,” she dryly stated. “We went out for Mexican and I’m feeling a bit…off.”

  “You don’t even like Mexican.” I wanted to ask her what kind of guy she was dating. How could he not know that about her? They’d been together for months.

  “I was craving it,” she said with a shrug. “Actually, I do like it. It just doesn’t always like me. I got an upset stomach. I decided to come home to lie down.” She had her hands on her hips. Her eyes were darting between Tristan and me.

  My knees were still weak from all of that amazing kissing. I was afraid to hop off the counter, just in case they gave out on me. So I just sat there, feeling a bit ridiculous and not quite sure what to do about it.

  Tristan didn’t look all that sure either. But he was the one who finally broke the short silence.

  “Sorry, Lila,” he said. His tone sounded apologetic. He looked as embarrassed as I felt. But then again, it wasn’t our fault Mom had shown up when she wasn’t supposed to. Although, if we’d left the radio off, we would’ve at least heard her come in.

  She finally let out an exaggerated sigh. Then she waved him off as she started to back out of the door. “It’s fine. I understand. I was your age once.” She stopped in her tracks. She wore a wry expression. “On the other hand, I was your age once. Maybe I should stick around. Do you two need a chaperone?” She had her eyes narrowed at us. Her look was a little too solemn.

  “Mom! Seriously?” I was pretty sure she was teasing. I was also pretty sure that Tristan hadn’t picked up on that.

  “We’re just going to, ah, eat now,” Tristan said. He motioned to our untouched sandwiches.

  Mom glanced at them and then made a face as she put her hand on her stomach. “In that case, maybe I won’t stick around. But you two,” she pointed at each of us, “behave.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Tristan said.

  Mom raised her eyebrows and gave him a knowing look.

  “I mean we won’t do it on the kitchen counter.” His eyes widened and he suddenly looked a little ill. “That sounds really bad. Doesn’t it?”

  “A little bit,” Mom said. I wasn’t sure if she was amused or appalled. She looked at me. “Do you maybe want to get down from there?”

  Tristan grabbed my arm and helped me slide off.

  “There, happy?”
I asked with raised eyebrows.

  She surprised me by smiling back. “Yes, actually I am. You two, you’re really cute together. But my, oh my, how things have changed. I remember when all I had to worry about was whether or not you were going to sneak my good bake ware out to the sandbox to make mud pies. Seems like just yesterday. And now I come home to find you—”

  “Mom, please,” I interrupted.

  “Okay, okay,” she said as she turned to leave again. “I’m going to bed. You two have fun.” Almost as an afterthought she called back, “But not too much fun.”

  When she was gone, I finally felt my blush dissipate.

  “It could’ve been worse,” Tristan said diplomatically. “It could’ve been my mom that caught us.”

  I laughed at that. My mom had her rules. But overall, she was pretty laid back.

  “I guess,” I said with a smile. I had to agree, though. If I had to choose between being caught by my mom or his? I’d definitely have chosen my own. “But I’m so sorry. If I’d known she was going out for Mexican, I would’ve known better. She doesn’t eat it often but when she does, it usually doesn’t sit real well with her.”

  “She eats it anyway?” Tristan asked with raised eyebrows.

  I shrugged. “Not usually. But you heard her. Apparently…she had a craving.”

  I grabbed the mugs off the countertop and filled them up with the still-steaming cocoa. Tristan grabbed the sandwiches and we headed downstairs. I set the mugs on the coffee table so I could flip on the gas fireplace. Then I turned on the TV as Tristan picked out a movie.

  We chatted as we ate.

  Then we watched the movie Tristan had put in.

  For the most part, we behaved ourselves.

  Getting caught by Mom once already was bad enough. And though I was sure she was in bed and we’d be safe from being caught off guard again, I didn’t think either of us wanted to risk a repeat.

  Instead, I grabbed an old blanket. I felt like I was never going to warm up after our afternoon outdoors. I curled into Tristan’s side. The whole time, I was thinking there really wasn’t anything simpler than being curled up by a fire in front of a movie.

  And yet, there really was no place else I’d rather be.

  15

  Tristan had a rare Wednesday night off. We’d been invited to one of his friends’ for a night of Guitar Hero. Which I happened to know, Tristan totally rocked at—no pun intended. He just did and there was no better way to put it. I knew this because we’d played a lot of it over the years—Tristan, Jamie and me. We’d also gone over to Marcus’s house a few times to play. But not often because Tristan wasn’t usually free.

  Tonight he’d declined, claiming he was behind in homework. I thought this was probably true because he wasn’t home very much. So we were at his house, studying. I was fine with that. Even though his parents were home, I still felt like I had him to myself.

  My mom had a no-closing-the-bedroom-door rule. Anna had a no-bedroom-at-all rule. Jamie was over at Evan’s. Tristan and I were downstairs in their family room. Our homework was spread out all around us on the floor. Of course, because I was a senior and he was a junior, we had no classes together. So we were doing our homework separately while still just hanging out together.

  I could hear Robert and Anna upstairs. They were banging around in the kitchen, preparing dinner together like I knew they frequently did. I was sure they couldn’t hear Tristan and me at all from up there. Especially with the kitchen noises masking the sounds of our voices. So I wasn’t at all worried about them overhearing our conversation.

  “My mom’s going to be gone this weekend,” I told Tristan. “She’s not going out of town this time. She’s just…” I didn’t want to say it. I knew it was absurd. She was an adult. I wasn’t exactly a child. Yet the thought of my mom having weekends away was just not something I liked to talk about.

  His lips were twitching when he asked, “Is she having a sleepover?”

  “Ugh,” I said. “Yeah, I guess. So I thought maybe we could go to Krista’s party for a while and then…do you maybe want to go back to my house?”

  Krista’s dad had gotten a job as a salesman last summer. He traveled a lot and her mom loved to tag along. They were able to stay in nice hotels, for the most part, on his company’s dollar. So Krista frequently had people over.

  I had expected an immediate ‘yes’ to my question. Or maybe a slow, sweet smile to spread across his face. I wasn’t expecting what felt like an elongated silence. A silence in which he seemed to be avoiding looking at me.

  “Friday. Well, ah…” he said as he fidgeted with his pen. He kept his eyes on his notebook when he said, “Maybe. I’m not sure what time though. They’re doing inventory at work. It’s easier to do it after hours. I’ll be tied up for a while on Friday night. I mean, I’ll show up as soon as I can…”

  He trailed off and I frowned. I was trying not to be unreasonable. But the amount of time he put in at work was starting to wear on me. The only reason it was wearing on me was because I didn’t understand it. Willow had to work. She desperately needed the money. Tristan didn’t. So I didn’t understand why he thought he needed to work so much. And really, on a Friday night?

  When I had asked him why a few weeks ago, he said it was because they needed him to. This left me under the impression that it really wasn’t his choice. But that he felt obligated. When I suggested they hire someone else—an extra person—he looked at me like I was crazy. I realized that hiring another employee really wasn’t his call to make. But it should’ve been his choice to turn down so many hours. I’d only brought it up a few times and each time, the conversation had become strained.

  I almost felt like he wanted to work. More than he wanted to spend time with me. That left me feeling insecure. Because why wouldn’t he want to spend time with me? Unless…he did finally realize that he’s been under a false illusion of me all this time. Maybe he’d spent all those years liking the idea of him and me. But maybe I just wasn’t what he expected me to be. Or maybe what he really liked was the idea that I was unattainable. And now that he knew I really wasn’t, maybe that had taken the fun right out of it. Maybe now I was just as uninteresting as half of the other girls at school.

  The thought made me feel pretty awful.

  I realized that it probably seemed a bit backwards, but I’d have been more understanding if he’d been spending all of that time with his friends. I mean, everyone needs friends. Not everyone needs to work. At least, not everyone who is still in high school. And the thing was, I knew he didn’t need to work. I knew, because I’d known the Jacobs forever. Because Jamie had been my best friend forever, I knew their parents had their college funds set aside. I knew that when Jamie graduated, she’d be getting her own car. Robert had only thought it was necessary to share while they were both in high school. Once Jamie got a new car, Tristan would have the Subaru.

  So, why the need to work so much?

  He had more than enough spending money. So his insistence on working was eating away at me. I couldn’t think of a logical reason why he felt he needed to. Unless…

  “Do you not want to spend time with me?” I finally asked.

  “What?” he sounded surprised. “No. It’s not that. It’s not that at all. It’s just…”

  He faded off and my heart did an unpleasant feeling flip-flop. An icy, prickly feeling flooded through me. It wasn’t a feeling I’d ever associated with Tristan before. The longer he was silent, the worse the feeling became.

  “Just…?” I prodded.

  “I just need to work.” He let out a small laugh but it sounded nervous. Or abrupt. Or both. “Is there something wrong with having a strong work ethic? I mean, maybe I can’t help it. Look at both of my parents. Maybe it’s just genetically engrained.”

  I blinked at him a moment, trying to wrap my head around that. It sounded like an overly intelligent excuse created for the sole purpose of staving off an argument.

  Then he continued
on in a very un-Tristan-like manner. He said something that did not seem thought out at all. “Considering you’ve never had a job, maybe you just don’t understand what it’s like to feel that sense of responsibility. I mean, you really have no responsibilities.”

  “Oh. Wow. Wow. Thanks for that,” I stammered. I didn’t think he’d meant it as an insult. But somehow, coming from him, it kind of felt like one. Never mind that he was right.

  He groaned. “Don’t get all pissy on me.”

  “Excuse me?” The words shot out of my mouth. This was the closest we’d ever come to having an argument. I wasn’t liking it one bit. Unfortunately, it felt like it was just getting started.

  “Britta.”

  My name came out sounding like a warning. I bristled, which I knew was completely stupid and unreasonable. But I just couldn’t help it. As childish as it was of me, I wasn’t used to Tristan talking to me that way, so I was immediately feeling defensive. I knew my mind shouldn’t go there. But I couldn’t help but think of when Jamie had said Tristan was a sure thing. And while I didn’t think of it the same way she did, I did think about it in other regards. I had expected him to want to spend as much time with me as he could. Was that so much to ask for?

  Apparently.

  “Don’t be so unreasonable,” he scolded.

  He was right. I was being unreasonable. I felt pretty sure I was about two seconds away from being more unreasonable still. Because suddenly, I felt the urge to cry. It wasn’t just because he had to work. It’s because some small, nagging little part of me didn’t believe in his half-assed reasons. I couldn’t help but feel like he simply enjoyed working more than he enjoyed spending time with me.

  I mean, it wasn’t like he was working hard at a career. He was working a part-time job. For minimum wage…at a music store.

  “Hey you two!” Robert said as he popped into the room. He grinned at us. His hair was on the verge of needing a trim. It was starting to look a little scary. His bowtie, with dots, was even worse. It was distracting. So I kept my eyes glued to it. “Getting lots done?”