by Mary Whitney
I so wanted to kiss him again when he acted all shy. “I worried myself about you.”
“I suppose with good reason. I’m sorry, Nicki. I really was horrible to you.”
“You weren’t horrible.” His apology was making me self-conscious, so I decided to put him on the spot instead. I wanted to get to the bottom of things. “So, what happened between you and Meredith?”
“I’ve been asking myself that, too.”
“How so? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know. I fell into going out with her last term.” He smiled and nudged my shoulder. “You already had a bloke.”
“Whatever…” Of course, I was dying that he’d noticed I had dated someone back then.
“It’s true. But what happened between you two?”
I shrugged. “John and I broke up after the accident. He already had plans to work at a summer camp until August, and then he was going off to college. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“It wasn’t?”
“At that point, I didn’t really care about much,” I said bitterly. “Anyway, we were talking about you and Meredith.”
“Right. As for Meredith, she was nice to me from the start when I didn’t know anyone.”
“And she’s beautiful.” I wanted to take it back immediately. It made me sound just like the jealous girl I was.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that too.” Then he took my hand and began rubbing my arm where my scar was. “When I heard about your accident, I was really sad for you. We didn’t really know each other, but I always thought you were great and you seemed…different. When my mum came back from your sister’s funeral, she was pretty gutted. She said your family was devastated, and you and your mum were in bad shape physically. But what struck me most was that she was worried about you—that you seemed numb.”
“You can tell her that I was on some awesome drugs.” I tried to smile but quickly looked away. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore, and I hoped he got the point, so I added, “Go on.”
“When I saw you at that party at the beginning of term, I was curious about you and how you were doing. Here you were, this beautiful, clever girl, but you seemed so removed from the world. It was heartbreaking. And then as I got to know you, we got on well, and I really started to fancy you. I knew that I had backed myself into a corner when I looked forward to spending time with you more than Meredith.”
“I don’t know…It looked to me like you and Meredith were enjoying yourselves.” I gave him a dirty look. “Sometimes in front of my locker.”
“I’m really sorry. I was such a prat. I talked with Tom, who filled me in on your side of things—that I was trying to have my cake and eat it with you and Meredith. That you were nice to talk to, but I didn’t want to be seen with you when I had Meredith instead. Total bollocks. I still can’t believe you thought that.”
“All empirical evidence aside.”
Shaking his head, he looked out the window. “You’re right. Of course you’re right that it must have looked that way. But please believe it wasn’t my intention. I was so bloody stupid about it all, but you called me out on it. I deserved to be told off.”
I looked out the window, too. I don’t know where the tears came from, but a few rolled down my cheeks.
Adam’s mouth flew open when he saw my face, and he said softly, “I wanted to get things straight with you, but you wouldn’t talk to me.” He shook his head like I just didn’t get it. “I was really depressed, and I knew I should dump Meredith. I made excuses all the time not to see her. Things kept getting in the way, though, like Homecoming. You were right that it was a big deal for her. Then, I had set up that stupid date when David visited. Speaking of whom…” He smiled at me. “Tell me about David. What was that all that about?”
It was my turn to divulge some things. I tried to make light of it. “He’s a great guy, and…well, no one had paid any attention to me in a long time. He was really, really nice to me.”
Laughing, he playfully banged his head against the steering wheel. “That was it? You liked him because he was nice to you? That’s all that it took? Do you know how insanely jealous I was? From the moment you two started talking at our lockers.”
“If you were so jealous, why did you go to Lance’s party?”
Adam found my hand again and, looking down, replied, “When I saw how happy you were with David, I thought I should do what I could to help. I swallowed every bit of jealousy because I knew I deserved it.” I lifted my other hand to get the hair out of his eyes. He looked at me intently. “I thought I’d blown it with you anyway. When you curled up next to me last Friday, I was worried you might wake up and run away.”
That was my green light. I took a breath, leaned over, and gave him a kiss. It took all of ten seconds for us to reacquaint ourselves with one another before sliding into a series of successively deeper kisses. He let go of my hand, put both of his around my waist, and pulled me to him. We made out for a while just like we had before, but things became even more heated. I began to notice all the discomfort of making out in a car. Too many things in the way, too many hard angles.
Adam must have noticed it, too, because he murmured, “Hang on a sec.” I felt his hand move off my back and reach below his seat. As he moved his seat backward, he pulled me onto him saying, “I want to hold you.”
There was only one proper answer to that. I smiled, crawled into his lap, and planted a giant kiss on him. His hands began to roam over my sweater—avoiding all those places to be avoided if you were trying to avoid certain things during an initial grope session—but still finding their way around. He got hard in less than a minute. My unconscious and shameless response was to move so that I was no longer sitting in his lap but right on top of his erection.
When I pressed against him, he groaned that groan that guys make when they want more and can’t have it. “Bollocks. Why are we in this car?”
“Sorry.” I didn’t want to be a tease, but that’s where things had been heading.
He smiled and pressed his forehead to mine. “Christ, don’t be. I’m wound up because it feels so good being with you.”
“I feel the same way,” I whispered.
After another long kiss, I looked at my watch and saw it was after five. “Oops, I need to go inside. My mom will be home soon.”
“Too bad.”
“You’re more than welcome to come over later and meet her.”
“I am?”
“Sure. You’ll get a pass at least for the first meeting, just because she knows your family.”
“No. I want to do this right. Will you go out with me on Friday?”
My heart said, Yippee! But of course, I just smiled. “That would be great. You can meet her then.”
“Brilliant.” He kissed my cheek. “For now, I’ll walk you to your door.”
“But it’s still pouring. I’m the only one that needs to get wet.”
He was out the car before I finished my words, and he opened my door, saying, “Let’s make a dash for it.”
We ran to my porch and were dripping wet by the time we got to it. He laid each of his hands on the sides of my face and kissed me. I could taste the rain on his face. We said our goodbyes, and I walked inside, confident that I had left a part of myself on the porch.
Everything about that week should have been depressing. It rained every day, and I’d just come off an emotional weekend up at Dad’s. Also, it was Christmastime, and I could tell that the Lauren stuff was going to be ten times worse than even her birthday on Halloween. It was December, and Mom and I hadn’t even talked about what we were doing for Christmas yet. It was that bad.
But I wasn’t depressed—I was elated. Adam drove me home from school each day, where we spent half the time talking and half the time making out. I felt like a giggly girl with a sweet boyfriend. Mom totally sensed something was up.
When I mentioned I had a date on Friday, she smiled. “I look forward to meeting him.” She didn’
t ask who it was, which was good. I didn’t want her cluing in too quickly that she knew Adam’s mom.
By Wednesday, Adam had started going out of his way so that he could walk me to all my classes. It was really then that I started to see the look in other people’s eyes when they saw us together. It was an expression of curiosity like, as if they were wondering why he would dump Meredith Daniels to date me. Despite the majority of gawkers, there were a few friendly faces whom I didn’t really know that well but who gave me a big smile. I loved them. It felt like some sort of underdog solidarity.
One afternoon, Adam and I were again outside my house in his car, talking as the rain beat down around us. Our neighbors across the street already had their Christmas lights on their house. He pointed to the decoration and said, “We leave for our Christmas holiday on the last Friday of school.”
England again. The old girlfriend. I felt like I was physically deflating; it was such a downer. I mustered up, “That will be nice.” It couldn’t have sounded sincere because it was the same thing I had said the last time he’d brought it up.
“What are your plans?”
Not that question. It sounded so simple, yet that was a question that got to the root of just how screwed up my life had been since Lauren died. What did boxers call it? The bob and weave? That’s how I needed to avoid answering him. I was just tired of doing it.
When I didn’t answer immediately, he prompted me. “Nicki?”
“I don’t know.”
His brow furrowed. He should’ve been confused. Most people, normal people had this sort of thing worked out. After all, Christmas was less than a month away.
I started and stopped, then started again and finally said, “Well, things are really hard for my mom. She’s avoiding a lot. She hasn’t brought Christmas up yet, so I haven’t either. I’m guessing we’ll go to Baton Rouge to see my grandparents. Then we’ll come back, and I’ll go see Dad.”
Adam nodded, but he again had that look that made me comfortable saying more. I added, “As to whether or not we’re getting a tree or exchanging gifts, I have no idea. I mean, I’d be happier not doing any of it, but I wouldn’t mind my mom actually talking with me about it first.”
“So your mum hasn’t always been this way? She talked to you more before…”
Not wanting to look at him, I focused on our neighbor’s shrubs. I didn’t know if I was ready to get into it. Yet here was the opportunity to talk with someone who wasn’t my seventy-five-year-old grandmother or my dad’s girlfriend. I choked up as I got out the simplest sentence that still explained it all. “Everything was different.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes as I looked at Adam and forced a half-smile. He actually looked somewhat pained. “I’m so sorry, Nicki.”
“You’re not going to want to spend time with me if all I do is cry on you.”
“I’m finding myself not wanting to spend time with anyone else.” He gave me an encouraging grin.
“Thanks. I…um…like spending time with you, too.” I was bashful again, just like the stupid skunk in Bambi.
At that, he leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, but quickly moved to kissing my face where it was wet from tears. “We won’t have a tree at my house either, if that makes you feel any better,” he said in between the kisses.
I giggled and pulled him closer to me. “It actually does.”
And then I threw myself at him. What caused me to do it? I didn’t know. But there I was, all over the guy. Everything in my life felt easier with Adam, so I only wanted to feel more of him. It seemed like he felt the same way—like we couldn’t get close enough to one another. Clothing stayed on, but for the next ten minutes we lost ourselves in each other. It was wet and warm and hot and beginning to feel very, very good—uncomfortably good.
When he slipped his hand under the front of my sweater, I at first didn’t really notice because my body was too busy responding, but soon I panicked in self-consciousness. He made me forget myself so much that only then did I remember he might see what I look like. He might be disgusted by my scars—not to mention that my chest had to be a disappointment after Meredith. I tensed up immediately.
“Sorry,” he said, withdrawing his hand. He looked a little embarrassed. “I got carried away.”
“It’s just that…” I stopped speaking because I actually didn’t have a good reason.
He smiled and looked outside with a tinge of regret. “Not the best time.”
“No,” I said in relief. “Not the best.”
“I can’t wait to see you on Friday.” He placed a kiss on my cheek.
“Me too,” I said with a grin.
Chapter 15
AT EIGHT THAT FRIDAY NIGHT, I was still putting on my tights when the doorbell rang. Damn. He was punctual. I wanted to beat Mom to the door, but that wasn’t going to happen. After throwing on the handiest unwrinkled blouse and my short—but not too short—brown skirt, I looked in the mirror and saw that most everything else was in place. We were supposed to see a movie, so I grabbed an old cardigan of my grandfather’s and headed downstairs.
By the time I made it to the living room, Mom was already in the middle of her interrogation. I sat down next to Adam on the sofa and didn’t interrupt, as it took about thirty seconds to see she was totally taken in by him—just like every other American female.
She talked about traveling in the United Kingdom when she was in college and was so cheery that Adam had to know he was ahead in the game, but he still played his ace as he said, “And you may know my parents from church.” I don’t think I said a word for ten minutes, and Mom was all smiles when we said goodbye.
He clutched my hand as soon as we left the house. I squeezed his and smiled at him in amazement. “Mom was eating out of your hands. Very good work.”
“I like your mum. She’s funny, and my mum was right for once. She’s lovely.”
“Were you hitting on my mom?” I laughed.
“God, no way.” He snickered. When he opened my car door, he sneaked a kiss on my cheek. “Especially not when I have a date with her daughter, who is twice as attractive as she is.”
I rolled my eyes as I got in the car. After he got in, he commented, “You two don’t look that much alike, though. Do you take after your Dad?”
“Yeah…a lot.” I took a breath before adding, “Lauren looks…I mean, looked…like my mom.”
“I resemble my dad as well.”
I could tell he was trying to make the conversation easier for me, and it worked. I was able to say something that I’d been thinking for months. “It’s funny, because looking at my mom reminds me of Lauren, but somehow it doesn’t make me sad.” I shrugged, but it actually felt good having said it.
Tucking a stray hair behind my ear, he said, “Well, she’s your mum…You love her, too.”
“I guess that’s right.” I turned away. Sometimes the things he said just sang to my heart. He was such a nice guy. No wonder Meredith was so torn up by their split; I would be, too. Then I remembered my predicament: I will be, too.
Taking advantage of the noise of Adam starting the car, I silently contemplated my situation. I was falling hard for a guy who I’d most likely never see again after the first week of June. Adam would go back to his old life, and I’d be stuck here without him but with reminders of him everywhere—just like with Lauren. It would be déjà vu all over again.
Yet here he was at my side. We had fun; he always seemed to know what to say to me no matter how sad I was, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to be naked with him. I knew there was only one thing to do. I couldn’t think about the future or it would only protract the pain. I couldn’t dwell on what was going to happen. No, I wouldn’t go there—not yet, not until I absolutely had to. So I made a life-changing, snap decision: with one sweep of my mind, I packed all the angst away until I had no choice but to face it.
Somehow it was liberating. I turned to him and smiled. “So what do you want to see ton
ight? I’m open to anything.”
“Well, if it’s all right with you, I thought we might get the bloody parental thing out of the way. How about we go to my house and watch a video there? My parents have rented a few, and they’re not all rubbish.”
Panic. Adam’s parents? I immediately looked down at what I was wearing. I was completely covered and somewhat conservatively dressed. I exhaled. “Okay. But there is no way that I can outdo your performance with my mom.”
“You’ll be fabulous. She already likes you.”
When we walked into the large foyer of his house, Sylvia was at my side at once. “I’m so happy Adam brought you over.”
“Thanks for having me.”
“She’s not here to see you,” Adam said, full of brotherly annoyance.
Sylvia retaliated by giving him a dirty look and sticking her tongue out. It was really funny, so I had to laugh. When she saw me smile, she grabbed my hand and began dragging me through the house. “Mum! Nicki’s here.”
Both his mom and dad greeted me as we walked in the kitchen. They were washing up dinner dishes. His mom dried her hands and happily announced, “It’s nice to see you again, Nicki. Maybe you want to sample some of the famous Kincaid spotted dick?”
My eyes bugged open. What the hell? Did she really just say “dick”? She couldn’t be talking about her son, could she? Like his dick has freckles? I didn’t know who to look at, but I glanced quickly at his dad. He looked uneasy. I then turned to Sylvia, and she giggled. Finally, I looked at Adam, and he blurted out, “It’s a pudding.”
“Oh. Sure. Thank you.” Whew.
His mom was pleased and directed Sylvia to get plates. Adam whispered in my ear, “Sorry about that. My mum…well…she just doesn’t always get it.”
As the five of us sat at their kitchen table eating a strange spongy thing with raisins and custard, Adam’s dad carried most of the conversation, asking me about my family—what my father did, where he lived in Chicago, where my parents had grown up. He was nice enough, but with each answer I felt like I was failing a test, which made no sense to me. My parents were educated, my family was upper-middle class, and we’d traveled internationally before. We shouldn’t seem like stereotypical “ugly Americans.” What was his problem?