Absolutely (Larson)

by Melissa Veracruz

  Ashlyn blushes so deeply, her freckles are hidden by the red. She takes a deep, steadying breath and looks up at me. I’m barely breathing as panic sets in from both my declaration and the parent scare.

  “You what?” she whispers, guarded.

  I find myself almost ashamed that it came out the way it did. “You don’t have to say it back to me, or anything. That’s not why I said it.”

  “You what?” she repeats, insistent and slightly anxious. She's gripping her own arms waiting for me to say it.

  “Ash, I love you.” I barely manage to get out the words.

  “You what?” She's on an infinite loop. Am I not speaking loudly and clearly enough? I'm done though. This is not how I envisioned the night going.

  “Damn it! Forget it. Forget I said it.” I throw my hands up in the air in frustration. I turn and beeline for the window. Two steps into my exodus, she pops up in front of me holding her arms out. Her palms land flat on my chest.

  “No, don’t go. I'm sort of in shock. Give me a minute to process. You sort of sprung that on me.” Only because she didn’t have her listening ears on.

  Ashlyn stands there, exactly where she stopped, arms outstretched. I wait, impatiently. It’s not easy on a guy, expressing his feelings and not having them reciprocated.

  “If you’ll think back—like 5 minutes ago—you will grasp that I was trying not to spring it on you.”

  Ashlyn chuckles, like this was any other little misunderstanding. “Oh yeah. Oh, wow!” She throws herself into my arms as fast as she threw herself out of them earlier. Her lips rain kisses on my neck. Pausing in a fleshy part, she nips me with her teeth. Running her hands along the hem of my shirt, she grabs and tugs it over my head.

  She does the same for herself. I crush her to me and glance down at our bodies, her flesh pressed firmly to mine. Our eyes meet back up. It’s on. We’re hot and heavy, our hands roaming everywhere within reach.

  Always the instigator, Ashlyn hooks her thumbs in the waistband of my shorts. Halfway down my butt, I stop her. “This isn’t why I told you.”

  “That isn’t why I'm doing this.” Damn. This girl is a sensual power house, breaking down my personal resolve.

  How to talk her out of reaching for her goal? Especially considering it’s a (future) goal of my own. Kiel Fuller, experienced man that he is, is about to shut down the girl he loves. Another prediction I did not make about tonight. Neither the conversations nor the activities, other than the kissing, have gone as planned. Stopping her from dropping all our clothes on the floor is going to be challenging. To say the absolute least…

  Chapter 19

  Ashlyn

  He loves me! Oh, sure, maybe I should have seen that one coming. But I didn’t.

  After four weeks with him, I felt more confident that I’d hear a “this isn’t working for me” speech, so that’s the conclusion I jumped to. No one who had witnessed our interactions those first two weeks would blame me.

  Once I’ve processed his revelation, I become a crazed, impassioned woman. Stripping us both of shirts and going for his shorts. No, it wasn’t strictly his confession that has me getting us buck naked. I think him climbing in the window to my room got that idea rolling in my head.

  Kiel, however, has some sort of twisted sense of morality. I think I’ve mentioned this before. Both consenting teens in this room want to be naked with each other. I can feel it, after all. I may be a virgin, but it’s impossible these days to be naïve about the male anatomy.

  He takes a deep breath and steps away from me, righting his waistband to my frustration.

  “Ash, it may be what you planned, but it’s not how it should happen. I've been thinking about us a whole lot today. I thought about Saturday out in the field. I thought about what I said about finding us a place for it to happen.”

  This is deep. My thoughts haven't made it past ending my virginity. I should be somewhat ashamed of myself. Unfortunately, I haven’t made it past frustrated either. I must have been born with a man’s sexual-morality compass.

  “Do you understand?” Kiel interrupts my thoughts, such as they were.

  “Kiel, I want this. I want this,” I say pointing between our half-naked bodies.

  “Ash, babe. It hit me that I love you. I. Love. You. I don’t want our relationship to be about sex—Damn, all of this sounded way better in my head,” he chuckles. “I sound like—”

  I stop him mid-sentence by throwing myself back into his arms and kissing him with abandon. I may want to end my innocence, but he wants to keep it intact. Look, I know he's not pure. I can’t fathom the things he’s done in his life, and I'm not going to try. If he wants the chance to take our relationship seriously, then I'll try too. For Kiel, I can wait.

  I stop kissing him to groan, “Ugh! I relent. On one condition.”

  He laughs, bringing his lips to my ear to murmur, “Let me hear it.”

  “Can we keep our shirts off? And can that shirtless condition remain in effect? I don’t believe I can give it all up.”

  “Um, sure.”

  “Now what do we do with ourselves?” I ask, clinging to his arms. He just laughs. I drag him to my bed and sit us down. We can do this, be beside each other in my bed without having sex, right? His arms go around me, and he lays back taking me with him. I snuggle up so that I'm lying on his chest, my legs stretched out between his legs.

  We lay there for the rest of the time we have together, talking about silly things and serious topics. My hands are tracing the contours of his chest. Kiel strokes my back.

  I tell him how much I want a family, and not ten years from now. Soon. Ok, that might sound scary to him, but it’s my one true goal. The one I don’t tell many people because it’s not what I'm supposed to want. He tells me that he thinks that’s exactly what I should want. He doesn’t sound like he’s ready to run.

  He confesses he thinks his sister may hate him for all he’s done to bring the family to Larson. I'm in love with Larson, so I can’t sympathize with her. I've never lived anywhere else and truthfully don’t want to. College will be in Abilene if that’s what I choose to do with my life.

  I tell him he can’t change the way she feels but he can treat her with respect. Maybe she’ll recognize his respect for an apology. Hey, I'm not oblivious to the fact that the girl’s a beast. A gossip hound. A pissy pants. But there’s a reason for that behavior underneath the front she puts up.

  I tell him some embarrassing childhood memories; he shares a few of his own. After some time passes, it seems crucial that we lay there with each other in the silence. To let the events of the night settle over us.

  “I love you,” he says again. “No pressure. Now that it’s out there, I want you to hear it from me.”

  “It’s almost midnight,” I whisper sadly. Like Cinderella, I have a stepsister. Unlike Cinderella, my stepsister is helping me out.

  “I know.”

  As if on cue, we both get the same text.

  I’m ready 4 my bed.

  I watch, propped up on my elbow as Kiel gets his shirt on. My smile isn’t reaching my eyes, so he sits down beside me and strokes the sides of my hair. He leans in to kiss me on my forehead. He stands to leave, but I pop up on my knees and throw my arms around him. I kiss him soundly and murmur, “Goodnight, Kiel.”

  “’Night, babe.” He tells me while he's half out the window that he’ll be there early the next morning.

  ***

  “So, did all the fighting translate to passion?” Brisa asks once she's ensconced under the covers.

  “Oh, shut it, Bri!”

  “Spill! No, just tell me one thing. Did he tell you he loves you?”

  “Bri, really. Can we sleep?”

  “Oh, holy freakin’ cow!” she smirks. “He did, didn’t he? I knew it when he texted me, girl, or I wouldn’t have agreed to couch exile.”

  Despite myself, I squeal into my pillow. “He does, Bri. He does! I feel so connected to him; it’s that intense with us.” />
  “Hold up for a sec. Did you say it back?”

  “Did I say what back?”

  “Oh, what the freak, Ash? That you love him, estupida!”

  “Ok, first off, I know what that means now,” I tell her holding up my index finger. Name calling was part of my second lesson with Kiel. “Second, he told me not to feel pressured into it.”

  “Remember a while back I asked you if you were in denial or just dense? I'm asking you again.”

  “I need to get to sleep. Can we drop it?” I ask.

  “No!” and I get hit in the leg by a shoe. “Do you or don’t you? Si o no.”

  “English, Brisa, English. But si, I do.”

  “You better tell him. Like now!” she practically hollers. What a taskmaster. She's the one who truly needs the sleep.

  “Ok.”

  “Now!”

  “Fine!”

  Then, “Go to sleep you two!” Dad yells from down the hall.

  We burst out into fits of giggles. When I stop, I pick up my phone and switch the video camera on.

  Before I drift off into sleep, I hear Brisa murmur, “I hope I have that someday.” She will. I know it.

  ***

  Kiel

  Waking up is hard especially knowing it’s going to be an exceptionally long day. I pick up my phone to turn off the alarm, and see a message from late last night. It’s a video from Ashlyn. Curious (and not a little scared), I open it.

  The video is of her; sitting in her bed. I feel sorry for Brisa who had to coach her through the Spanish portion of it. I am so glad I didn’t get this video message last night, because I'm sure I wouldn’t have slept at all, replaying the sucker.

  “I love you, Kiel.” Then she murders the Spanish translation, but the significance of the words is not lost on me. As she finishes speaking, her eyes bug out like she had a major epiphany. Love is that, indeed. At least it was for me.

  I'm smiling like a lovesick fool from my bed to my shower to the fridge. I smile at the OJ container, as if it is Ashlyn herself. I'm that far gone. She loves me. ‘Te amo’ she’d said, in the most beautifully butchered Spanish accent in all of Texas.

  Standing there in front of the fridge, smiling stupidly at the juice, I get a sharp smack on the back of my head. I'm brought back to earth harshly. “Lili! What the—”

  “I know you snuck out last night,” she hisses at me.

  “Sneaked—it’s sneaked, Lil.”

  “Who gives a—” Lili begins. I stop her before she hurts my ears.

  “So you saw me. Big deal.”

  “So, Mom and Dad won’t like it. Wouldn’t want them to worry…” she feigns concern.

  “Is that a threat, Liliana?” I ask in a warning tone.

  “Nope. A promise.”

  “What do you want?” I demand.

  “A ride. To the after party tonight. And a ride home.”

  “No, Liliana. No way.” I refuse her swiping my hands through the air, sending OJ dripping to the floor. She's an idiot, one Sharpie away from being a chola, but I love her too much to allow her to go.

  “Mo-OM!” she screams.

  “Damn it, Lili, shah,” I say, pissed that she has me. “Do you think I won’t post those pictures I have of you?”

  “Go ahead! I wanna go to the after party that bad,” she says with a chin tilt that made the Sharpie unnecessary. “I'm calling your bluff on the CD of pictures, too!”

  “Fine! But you have to promise me no drinking. You take a bottle of water and don’t let it out of your sight. Promise me, Lili!”

  “Deal!” she grins and hugs me. Awkward. And mental, how she turns on a dime. But even more mental than my sister’s dissociative disorder? That I am taking her loca butt to a field party.

  “Liliana, what is the screaming about?” Mom comes in and asks. She’s never rushed into our fights. Smart woman.

  “Kiel was drinking out of the orange juice carton.”

  Her lie earns me a second head smack. “Save the concussions for the field, Mamá,” I grumble.

  ***

  Ashlyn isn’t outside yet when I drive up. I've already been to Tómas’ house to pick up the monstrosity taking up most, if not all, of my backseat. It definitely screams Friday night lights in Texas.

  I jump out and go around to the passenger side to drag it out, but she walks out. Not even stopping to think about it, I jog up to her and lift her into my embrace. I kiss her senseless.

  She loves me. The one coherent thought escaping the haze in my brain.

  Ashlyn peers around me to the backseat, expression turning to utter amazement. “Is that for me?” she asks incredulous.

  “Who else am I gonna buy 10 pounds of purple and gold ribbon and fake flowers for?”

  She smacks me (I need pads for everyday life lately) and breaks free of my hold, skipping—yes, skipping—to see her mum. She touches a plastic helmet in awe and then reverently brushes her fingers over the short fuzz of the cheering bear. She picks up the ribbon with our names spelled out vertically with that cheesy sparkly heart in between. The one that made me recognize my feelings for her.

  Kiel♥ Ash

  Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I wait for her to stop ogling. When she does, I get pounced. She leaps into my arms as her legs expertly wrap around my waist. She hugs me fiercely as I struggle to stay balanced.

  “Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you! Now get this sucker pinned on me,” she commands as she climbs off me. I get it pinned, as soon as I figure out how. She clambers (remember, cowbells and clinking plastic?) to get situated in the front seat when I help her up. I get in and open the glove compartment so she can see inside. The mum ring sparkles with extra spray-on glitter Flor figured would send Ash over the edge.

  This wasn’t Flor’s first rodeo—um, homecoming—she knew what girls wanted. If the gigantic mum wasn’t tacked to her cheer uniform hindering her, I’d have her in my lap once more. Makes a guy wonder what the response would be for the real deal, gold and diamonds.

  ***

  Every step she takes down the hall is obnoxious—same as every other similarly bedazzled girl and guy. I said I needed more cowbell, right? It is a badge of shame not to be jangling, dinging, and crinkling on homecoming day.

  Jenna and D'Nae are clanging toward us. D'Nae’s is particularly small, but she's proud and beaming. From Miller? I wonder. They drag Ashlyn off to compare sparklies.

  Inside my locker—that will henceforth be locked—is a shredded garter. I mean shredded. The bells are smashed, the charms broken. Someone took freaking scissors to the white chrysanthemum. The card is still attached.

  Good luck tonight, mijo. Love Mom & Dad

  I am fuming. I keep the card and grab my books. When I turn to walk to class, Reyna is standing in the hallway, a short yet safe distance away. Not for the first time, I wish she were a guy. Even if she were, though, I remind myself I don’t fight anymore. I take calming breaths and walk away toward Ash and the girls.

  “Do any of you girls wanna get in a catfight? Because I could go for a Reyna beat down. I would back you…Never mind, forget I said that. Sounds too much like those monsters.” They laugh, but I think I see disappointment in D'Nae’s eyes when I renege on the offer.

  ***

  Ashlyn

  Neither of us has brought up what was said last night. I'm not sure how to bring it up or if I should at all.

  Kiel had the famed Flor Aguilar create my mum. If Kiel understood the significance of the mum maker, he didn’t show it. There was no doubting his distaste for the monstrosity, but I'm a Larson girl through and through. Tacky was the new beautiful during homecoming. If a girl didn’t suffer a headache from the glare or the weight of her mum, she needed more bling.

  The mini-mum on my hand is making other girls jealous as I walk down the hall, displaying it like it’s14K. It has K♥ A on it, like the mum. Yes, it’s cheesy. Don’t judge. It’s how we do things around here.

  The girls find me in the hall and dr
ag me away to show me their mums. D'Nae’s mum, surprise of the morning, is from Miller. It looks like it had some “work” done on it.

  When we ask, she says, “He knew I wouldn’t want a huge one. After his mom handed him the gaudy one she had ordered—no offense…”

  “None taken,” Jenna and I chime in.

  “Miller took scissors to it. Chopped the crap out of it.” She pulls out a Ziploc full of feathers, bling, and excess ribbons. We laugh so hard at the sheer amount of feathers nesting in the strings of gold footballs. D'Nae is holding the bag away from her body in distaste.

  Kiel stalks over to us, rage apparent in the way he carried himself. People were actually steering clear of him in the hall. When I find out why, the girls and I are ready to put the smack down. Nobody messes with a person’s mum or garter. It’s unheard of and borderline sacrilegious.

  Thankfully, I checked, double-checked, and rechecked the garter I ordered him would be delivered to him. And it was, right on time, in first period. It’s awesome but not spectacular, since I had Mom do the ordering. I’d ordered it before we spoke the “L” word. It does have our names, though.

  To be perfectly safe, I pull out a Sharpie (I don’t know why I carry it either) and draw hearts on it before and after our names. Oh, and a few on his forearm before he knew what was going down.

  “Really? Are you two?” He pretends indignity.

  “Maybe you should get a real tattoo. Not that I don’t thoroughly enjoy staring at you already, but I could use some focus.” I trace his temporary body art with my fingernail.

  “I have one already. I'll let you see it later,” he murmurs to me with his face turned toward the front of the room. Then he leaves me hanging, “paying attention” to the teacher, like I'm buying that.

  The teacher does attempt, admirably, to get and keep the class’ attention. Total lost cause today. This is an early release day. The pep rally has us in shortened classes. I snap pics of his garter and my mum and spam them to Mom, Dad, Bri, and other family members. I tag Kiel in them and post them on Instagram.

  ***

  We make it through our classes with minimal evil-glare from Reyna. Jacob, Jackson, and Sloan are back in class as well. Nobody’s really said what happened to them or if anyone confessed. I wonder if any of them ratted the others out.