by Jay McLean
Becca: He’s still suspect.
Josh: Give the kid your phone.
I hand it to Joey, who’s practically bouncing with anticipation. A second later, the phone vibrates in his hand, alerting him to a video call. He hits answer, and swear, he actually squeals like a girl when Josh’s face lights up the screen. “Dude!”
Josh smiles. “Yo. What’s up?”
“Shut the fuck up right now. No way!”
Josh laughs as he walks outside, closing Grams’s door behind him. “It’s Joey, right?”
“Y-yeah, man. Holy shit!”
“Nice Santa costume.”
Joey rips off the Santa hat and fake beard from around his neck. “Fuck!”
With a chuckle, Josh says, “It’s all good, man. It’s a cool thing you guys are doing.” He walks across the driveway toward the garage and a moment later, I hear the door lift. “What size do you ride?”
“Um. A 7.75.”
“Dude, I got plenty of those,” Josh says, flipping the camera so it’s pointing away from him. The screen fills with a bunch of different style boards. “Take your pick.”
If possible, Joey’s eyes fall out of his head. “Dude!”
“I have the new J-Ward signature one. You want that?” Josh asks.
“The one that hasn’t been released yet?!” Joey yells.
I wish I could speak so I could get in his face and say, “I told you so!” But I can’t, so instead I just watch and listen to Josh acting in a way I’ve never seen before. The old Josh would’ve shied away from the attention like he did the first time he took me to the skate park. This Josh… I don’t even know this one. But I think I want to. And that has to mean something.
Josh records himself signing the board. “I’ll send it to Becs. You should have it soon. I gotta jet, though. Becca’s grams is waiting on me.” He waves, a cheesy smile on his face. Then he hangs up, leaving Joey with his mouth open and me with a cocky grin.
“Holy shit, Becca! I just… Josh fucking Warden.”
Before I get a chance to respond, I get another text.
Josh: I’ll be in Oregon during your spring break. I’m going to buy you a plane ticket. I’ll e-mail you the details.
Josh: In other words, I miss you and I really want to see you, Becs.
Josh: If you can make it, I’ll be the happiest man on earth. If you can’t, I’ll cry myself to sleep.
Josh: No pressure, though.
PART III
23
—Joshua—
“Twenty-one,” Ry says, settling next to me on the plane to Dallas.
“What’s twenty-one?”
“That’s the number of days it takes to create a habit.”
I shake my head and eye him sideways. Ry’s the newest member of the team, plucked by Chris from a skate park somewhere in Cali. He’s only eighteen and had never left the state until Chris knocked on his door, wooed his mother, and he’s been with us ever since. That was three months ago. Now, he’s attached himself to me, calling me his big bro. Not that I mind. He’s more on my level than the other two guys. Maybe because he’s young and new and the fame and rewards of the skate world haven’t ruined him yet.
We spend most nights on the road skating in random places, while the others hit up bars and hit on girls.
“What habit?” I ask.
He points to the phone in my hand opened up to a picture of Becca pouting. She’d sent it to me New Year’s Eve with the text, “I miss you.” I hadn’t known what to make of it, or why she’d sent it, but I didn’t care. I missed her, too, and I wished she was with me, or I with her, it didn’t matter, and I told her that. We spent way too long, stayed up way too late, texting back and forth with promises to keep in touch. It was the only promise we made. Nothing about who we were to each other, or what we’d be the next time we were together. She’s in my life and obviously thinking about me, and for the past two months that’s been enough.
Ry says, pulling me from my thoughts, “If you don’t talk to her or look at her for twenty-one days, she should be out of your system.”
“Who says I want her out of my system?” I ask incredulously.
“Your face.” He laughs once. “Who is she, anyway?”
“Becca!” Reece shouts, taking a seat opposite us. “One day, young Ry, you’ll know all about Becca.”
“She your girl?” Ry asks.
Reece answers before I can. “She’ll always be his girl. Even if she has no idea she is.”
* * *
Becca: How’s Dallas?
Josh: Not as good as Oregon will be. You’re still coming right?
The minutes feel like hours while I wait for her response.
Becca: I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I’m going to try my hardest to make it, but there’s so much going on at the moment, I don’t know if I can get away.
Josh: But it’s spring break!
Becca: I know, but I have this huge paper due right after and all the volunteers at Say Something leave for break but the kids don’t so…
Josh: Crushing my heart, Becs. But I understand.
I don’t. Not really. I should, but I don’t.
Becca: Are you mad?
Josh: No.
Becca: You’re mad.
Josh: I’m not mad.
I’m a little mad.
Becca: You are.
Josh: I’m not really in the mood to start an argument I’m not gonna win.
Becca: Okay.
* * *
It’s not that I want Becca out of my system. I just don’t want her to infiltrate it. Which she has, and everyone’s noticed. Even Ry. “Twenty-one days,” he keeps telling me. So I try his stupid theory. Twenty-one days of no Becca.
I make it three.
The thing about Becca is simple. She’s like walking into a warm house when you’ve been out in the cold. You don’t realize how good it feels until you’re surrounded by it. And when you head back out you know, in the back of your mind, that the warmth is still there and you crave it and miss it and want nothing more that to be enveloped by it. And yeah, I’m sure if you spend twenty-one long-ass empty days in the cold, your body, your mind, grows accustomed to it just like I’d been in the year Becca and I spent apart. But then she showed up just outside the Globe tour bus and I was reminded of the warmth, the comfort, and the longing kicked in and I wanted it. No. I needed it. Needed her. And so I stand on the balcony of some random hotel in Florida and take a picture of the night sky, moon out, stars surrounding it. I send it to her, along with the words:
Josh: You know that really cheesy thing people do when they’re apart? They tell the other person to look at the stars and know that wherever they are, they’re looking at the same ones?
Becca: Yeah? You want me to do that?
Josh: No. I want you to look at the stars and realize that there’s a whole universe out there, and this world you and I live in is so tiny in comparison. But there’s nothing—not a damn thing in the entire universe you could possibly ever say or do that would make me mad at you, Becs. I’m sorry if I made you think that.
An eternity passes before I get a reply.
Becca: Why have you been AWOL?
Josh: Because I’ve been in denial.
Becca: About?
Josh: About my feelings for you.
She replies with a picture of the night sky from her view.
Becca: There could be an entire universe out there, and you’re right, we may be small in comparison. But what if you and Tommy make up the majority of my world? Does it really matter what else is out there?
* * *
Josh: Any update on tomorrow?
Becca: I’m really going to try. I’m going to pull an all-nighter and make some calls to see if there’s anyone who can cover my shifts but it’s not looking good. I’m so sorry, Josh.
Josh: Just let me know either way, okay?
Becca: I promise.
* * *
I smile, nod, and
make small talk with the fans, signing whatever they need while sitting at a table in the back of a new Check and Deck store in downtown Portland. At least that’s where I am physically. Mentally, though? I’m nowhere.
Becca’s plane should’ve taken off ten minutes ago with her hopefully on it. I haven’t heard from her since we texted last night and I didn’t want to push her. So instead, I’m sitting here going out of my mind waiting for the news.
I pick up my phone, the ringer set to loud so I don’t miss anything and hope for some kind of miracle.
“Still nothing?” Nico, my teammate, asks. He’s been with me the longest. Chris found him on YouTube skating in some abandoned warehouse in Puerto Rico. He set Nico and his family up in some mansion in California, the same area as Reece and Ry. So while they’re all out there, I’m in North Carolina, and Becca’s in St. Louis. Makes total sense, right?
As if right on cue, my phone alerts me to a message and I almost jump to read it.
Becca: I’m so sorry.
—Becca—
Seriously, I could watch Josh Warden forever. Even from outside the store, peeking through the window in between the gaps of the displays, it’s enough to satisfy my longing. He signs whatever is placed in front of him and smiles at his fans and female admirers. Okay, that last one I’m not too thrilled about, but whatever. It’s still Josh and I’m still close enough that I could smell him. Not that I am. That would be weird. The point is I’m here… he just doesn’t know it yet.
The air conditioning pricks my skin when I step inside the store and my luggage gets caught in the doorway. I struggle aimlessly, my cheeks warming as I make a fool of myself. “I got it,” someone says, holding the door open long enough for me to pull through my bag. I smile, thankful, only to realize it’s Chris. “You finally made it,” he says, pointing to someone who takes my suitcase and disappears. Chris leans in closer. “Does he know you’re here?”
Chris had been the one to contact me a couple weeks ago, not knowing Josh had already invited me to Portland. But Chris’s invite came with a private plane and an extra four hours with Josh. I’d be stupid to say no, so I agreed, on the condition that we surprise Josh with it.
I shake my head and look over at Josh, my heart racing at the sight. He smiles at the two girls in front of him, but it’s neither genuine nor forced. It’s definitely not the way he smiles at Tommy, or at me, and that realization sets off something deep inside me. He quickly moves on to the next person in the line—a younger kid. He signs a board, a magazine, a shirt and the back of a phone, all with the same smile on his face, and gosh, he’s beautiful.
Chris places something around my neck, pulling me from my daze, and I look down to see a lanyard with the tag: Becca (Warden).
Becca Parentheses Warden.
Becca Warden.
If I were ten, that name would be scribbled all over my notebook.
“You ready?” Chris asks.
After a nod from me, he leads me through the crowd with his hand on the small of my back while my heart picks up pace. We stop at the side of the table, where Josh is in the middle of talking to a fan. He glances up quickly when he feels our presence, but quickly goes back to the kid in front of him. He picks up a pen and starts signing the board, but he pauses halfway through, his eyes narrowing.
Then he looks up. Up. UP.
This time, nothing stops. Nothing. Not even him. His chair tips backward, his table forward, and the next thing I know, I’m wrapped tightly in his arms, my feet barely touching the floor, while the world falls away around me.
24
—Joshua—
warmth
wɔːmθ/
noun
1. the quality, state, or sensation of being warm; moderate heat.
2. enthusiasm, affection, or kindness.
3. Becca
I’ve done a lot of difficult things in my life. Raising Tommy on my own was one them. So is trying to balance my work with being a dad. But, sitting next to Becca for two hours, her scent invading my nostrils, driving me wild, and feeling her warmth next to me while wanting to throw her down on the table and make out with her face (What? She’s hot!), and not being able to do so is pretty high up on the list. So is not punching every fan that looks twice at her. Occasionally, the roles get reversed and it’s a girl on the other side of the table. Some want shirts and posters signed, a few want body parts. That’s when I really feel Becca’s warmth—like lasers shooting from her eyes and into the side of my head. Kind of adorable, kind of hot, but mainly funny. Besides, she messed with my mind—told me she wouldn’t be here—and now I get to enjoy messing with hers.
I sign what’s in front of me: boards, shoes, stomachs, cleavage. Whatever. And take pictures with whoever wants them. Time ticks by slowly. So damn slowly I fight the urge to fake a sickness and leave with Becca. Go back to the hotel and you know… talk.
* * *
Stepping out through the storeroom doors and into the alley is like breathing in fresh, cool air for the first time in days. I take Becca’s hand and pull her into me until there’s no space between us and I hold her. Memorize her. Find and lose myself in her. “I missed you,” I tell her, squeezing her tighter.
She laughs. I don’t hear it, but I feel her shoulders bounce and her breaths warming my chest. Too soon, the door opens and my teammates join me. I introduce them to Becca just as the limo pulls up. Becca hops in first, and I follow, sitting closely next to her. I rest my arm behind her, and that’s all I do because anything more could possibly get me arrested.
“So we finally get to meet My Becca,” Nico says once the car’s in motion.
Becca looks up at me, her brow bunched. “My Becca?” she mouths.
I shrug. “Tommy talks a lot.”
“My neck’s all stiff,” Reece says, rubbing the back of his neck and tilting his head from side to side. “Or maybe it’s just all the sexual tension in this car.”
Ry attempts to stifle his laugh while I kick Reece’s leg. He feigns hurt and points to Chris. “You see that? Write him up a warning!”
“Idiot,” I murmur.
But Reece just leans forward, his eyes focused on Becca. “You’re a lot hotter in person, My Becca.”
I kick his leg again.
“Chris!” he shouts. “Josh kicked me!”
“You started it,” I mumble.
Chris sighs. “Settle down, children.”
* * *
My hand covers the handle of Becca’s luggage while I roll it behind me, the other taking hers as we walk into the hotel lobby. “You want me to book you a separate room?” I ask, turning to her.
She nods.
I freeze.
Then she smirks.
“You’re mean.”
I hold her hand tighter and rush through the lobby toward the elevators, praying for the first moment alone. The second we’re inside, I hit the button for the twentieth floor. I stare down at her, watching her bright green eyes lift to mine. “Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she mouths.
After releasing her bag, I wait for the elevator doors to start closing before holding her face in my hands. But that’s all I can do because the doors ping open again, and the rest of my team, plus Chris, step inside.
I drop my arms.
“Team cock-block to the rescue,” Reece shouts.
Chris shakes his head. “Leave ’em alone.”
Ry laughs.
Nico says, “I bet you can’t wait to get her in your room, be alone, get down and nasty.” He smirks at me, winks at Becs, then presses the buttons to every single floor between here and the twentieth.
“I hate you,” I tell him.
Becca presses her face to my chest, hiding her laughter. I’m glad she thinks it’s funny. I’m pissed.
Swear, an entire lifetime passes before we actually make it to our floor. I’m the first to step off, but not without a pocketful of condoms jokingly supplied by my so-called friends. I hustle Becca down the hall and
into my room, making sure the door is closed, locked, secured, and then I grasp her hand when she starts to walk farther into the room. I gently push her against the wall just inside the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She looks up slowly, her eyes meeting mine, her teeth working on her bottom lip.
I move in on her, smiling when her eyes widen. “You’ve been bad, Becs, messing with my head like that.” I almost laugh when she rolls her eyes. Instead, I move closer until I’m flush against her. “You crushed my heart and you know how fragile my heart is.”
She smiles when she rises to her toes, her lips aiming for mine, but I don’t let her have it. Not yet. I pull back just in time and place my hands on her hips, pushing her away from me. “I’m mad at you.”
Her eyes dance with amusement as her hands flatten on my stomach, beneath my shirt, and I almost lose it. Almost. Her touch is warm, hot, satisfying all my cravings, all my longing. I hold off, fighting the urges coursing through my veins. She raises her hands slowly, so damn slow I can feel the pulse in her fingertips as she makes her way up to my neck, taking my shirt with her. I try to think. Try to come up with a plan that will give me the control and right now—the way she’s looking at me… I can’t think of a single reason to stop her when she removes my shirt, wraps it around my neck, and then uses it to pull my mouth to hers.
She kisses me softly, slowly, as if we have all the time in the world. Her tongue darts out, tracing my lips, and—knock knock.
“Fuck off!”
Knock knock.
Frustrated, I sigh/grunt loudly and reach for the door.
Reece quirks an eyebrow after peeking into the room. “Wow. It’s been what? Two minutes and she’s already got you on a tight leash?”
Becca pulls my shirt from around my neck and hands it to me.
“What do you want?” I ask, my tone clipped.
“Team meeting after the signing. Remember?”
Fuck. I’d agreed to have the meeting in my room because Becca wasn’t supposed to arrive until later. Without an invitation, Reece enters the room, now joined by Ry and Nico and Chris, while I replace my shirt and hide my excitement. Becca grabs her laptop out of her bag and points to the door but Chris stops her by saying, “You need to be here, too.”