It rings and I jump a foot in the air.
I walk to the door and stop at the handle. I take a deep breath and blow it out through puckered lips.
I gracefully open the door and instantly smile. I have this new irrevocable condition now that every time I see Brett I smile uncontrollably. I step aside the door and he walks in. I stop to admire him shamelessly. He’s wearing black and gray suede Vans, his dark fitted jeans that hug his cute butt perfectly and my favorite tattered Nirvana shirt. I notice he’s taking the same inventory as I am and our eyes finally greet each other with warm smiles.
The butterflies flitter around.
Except this time––I welcome them.
“Hi, Girlfriend,” he says, taking a step toward me. I bite my bottom lip and step toward him.
Of course I want to do this. What was I even thinking? I want him...like, yesterday.
“You wore that shirt on purpose,” I accuse.
“Nope.” He pauses to look me up and down again. He grins flirtatiously and says, “Okay, maybe a little bit.” I laugh knowing that that’s exactly what he would say. He pulls one single sunflower from behind his back. I give it a peculiar look. It doesn’t have the plastic or rubber bands surrounding the stems like bouquets usually do.
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“You just went and stole one of the Rakes’ sunflowers?” I ask, with raised eyebrows.
“I did. I remembered how much you like them. Except, I don’t think the Rakes’ live there anymore. I got chased out by a fat old man.”
We laugh together and I fall in love.
Again.
“Thank you, Sherlock.” I lift my arms around his neck and kiss him. His arms close in around my waist. I break the kiss to grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to my room.
Once we’re in my room I boldly start kissing him again because I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life––but he’s stiff and hesitant.
“What’s wrong?” I decide not to tell him about my chance encounter with Ryan earlier. It’s not important and I think he would flip out unnecessarily. Plus, Ryan’s face still looked pretty bad as a result of Brett’s temper. I hope he didn’t find out somehow and is upset now.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, eyeing me seriously.
“Yes. Do you want to?” I ask, getting slightly afraid that he might turn me down.
“Yes, very much,” he says quickly. “I just want to make sure that you’re sure.”
He looks at me with his glistening hazel eyes for a moment and says, “I love you.” My heart starts hammering. He moves his hands to gently cradle my face. He holds me steady in front of him to make sure I’m listening. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It’s the purest and most honest thing I’ve ever uttered.
Our lips meet and we begin kissing eagerly. My fingers wrap around and play with the feathery dark curls on the back of his head. He cups the back of my head with one hand and the other grabs my waist to pull me closer. My hands meet at the front hem of his shirt and I hoist it up. He lifts his arms to help me pull it over his head. We move to my bed.
His hand moves under my shirt and up my side leaving a powerful surge of electricity everywhere he touches. I tug my shirt up and he helps me pull it over my head. My entire body is pulsing. My mind turns off and every ounce of insecurity I have of my body, sweaty palms and thick thighs included, seems to float away.
His mouth wanders down my neck, then to my shoulders and to the top of my bra. The electric current intensifies so exponentially that I get dizzy. He lifts himself up to come back to my mouth and I slip my leg to the other side of his body so his hips are between my legs. My body reacts so automatically to his touch that it’s igniting a fire in me that I’ve never known. I grind his hips against mine until he moans.
His hands tuck under my back and he feels around for my bra clasp. I lean up on my elbow so he can take it off. He fumbles with the clasp for an awkward moment.
And another moment.
And another.
And I can’t help but to giggle.
He smiles and blushes.
“You are not even laughing at me right now, Ramona Bean Scott,” he says, wide- eyed but smiling. He pinches my side playfully and I squeal. “These things are really hard for guys to get to get off. I don’t know you ladies do it,” he says through laughs. “Way to bruise my ego.” He rolls to my side so he can actually see the back of my bra. He begins tugging at it.
“Aw. No, it was cute!” I feel the release of my bra unhooking.
“Finally!” he jokes, rolling back on top of me.
He kisses me and begins sliding my bra straps off.
If my heart could sweat it would be sweating as much as my clammy palms. I suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable but then, he says my name.
"Ramona..." He is looking at me the way I’ve always dreamed a boy would look at me:
Like I am everything he wants.
Like I’m the most beautiful person in the world.
I cover my mouth with his and he presses his body against my bare chest. Our skin is smooth and warm together. I instinctively moan and it’s the reassurance he needs to grind his hips against mine.
He moves his hand to unbutton my jeans. He roughly tugs them, clearly having trouble because they’re my tight skinny jeans. I suppress my reaction to chuckle at the awkwardness and I move to help him. He finally yanks them off and tosses them on the floor. When he notices my red lace undies, he groans loudly and places his forehead on my belly.
“You are so beautiful, Ramona,” he says, while kissing my stomach. My entire body flushes pink. He looks at me with eyes that are filled with love and intent. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Okay,” I nod nervously.
“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this right now. We can wait. Honestly. Whatever you want,” he assures me, leaning on his elbow to give me space.
“Yes, I want to,” I tell him quietly but seriously. My body is aching for him in the most painfully beautiful way.
“Okay.” He smiles and gently starts kissing me again at a much slower pace.
I finally undo his jeans and start pushing them off––less than gracefully––understanding his earlier struggles with my clothes. He helps and pushes the rest of his clothes off. His golden shimmering eyes look at me seriously.
“You still okay?”
I look back into his intense caramel colored eyes, visibly filled with love.
“Yes.”
***
A LITTLE WHILE LATER, I lay my head on Brett’s chest and wrap my arm around him.
“Ramona, that was the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”
My heart blooms, filling my entire being with gratitude.
He looks down at me concerned. “Are you okay? Did you bleed?”
I don’t think I did but I look down to see, embarrassed that I didn’t even check. “I’m not bleeding. It did hurt a little though.”
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “You should go to the bathroom just in case.”
I take his advice and glance around to find clothes to put on.
He notices and says, “Oh, here,” leaning over and grabbing something off the floor. He hands me my large pajama shirt.
“Thanks.” I throw it on and trek to my bathroom.
I have to bite my knuckles to suppress the obscenities that I want to yell when I pee––painfully. It’s a pain far worse than the pain I experienced a little bit ago.
I can’t believe nobody warned me about this!
There’s some light blood but not too much.
Other than being physically sore, I take pleasure in knowing that what Brett and I just experienced was uniquely and purely us. All these years caught up on Ryan Applebaum and the boy I ended up falling in love with was right in front of me for nine years.
I crawl back in bed and rest my head on Brett’s chest. He
caresses my back in tiny circles with his thumb. My tired eyes close with a glowing smile on my face.
Chapter 35
“IT’S WEIRD, HUH? NOT having Mom here. The house feels a little empty without her. How are you feeling?” Dad asks me, sitting down at the kitchen table.
“Yeah, it is weird. I’m okay, I guess. I mean, I’m sad, of course, but also weary and worried,” I admit candidly.
“Yeah, me too,” he pauses and looks at me, then smiles. Without being prompted, he starts animatedly saying “weary and worried” ten times fast. I burst out laughing. He ends up with “dwedidnadary.”
Once our laughter subsides, I come back down to reality and somberly say, “It really sucks that she’s not allowed to call anyone for a week.”
“That it does. She’ll call though. It’s just a matter of when. We just have to hang tight and adjust to our new normal in the meantime. You know what? Let’s do something fun tonight. How about we do dinner and a movie?”
“Sure! The new Meryl Streep movie is out,” I comment while diving my fork into the breakfast quiche that he and I made. I smile sweetly and he chuckles.
Meryl Streep is my mom’s favorite actor. She always makes my dad and me go see all of her movies while they’re in theaters. Meryl Streep has become a staple of our Family Nights.
“Well, we can’t break tradition, can we? A Meryl Streep movie it is,” he says smiling big enough to see the wrinkles fold by his eyes. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” he asks. I sigh. “Wow, that bad, huh?” His thick dark eyebrows crinkle together.
“I’m not sure yet. I think I’m ready to go talk to Veronica...I’m nervous.” I graze my fork around my dirty plate, playing with the crumbles left from my devoured quiche.
“Being nervous is normal. You and Veronica have the gift of being best friends. When you last talked to her you knew you were going to get through this. You knew your friendship wasn’t going to end over this, right?” He studies me with his impossibly dark brown eyes that are identical to mine.
“Yeah. I just needed space to think.”
It’s true.
I never doubted that Veronica and I would still be friends.
I was worried that I might lose her as my best friend because of something I might say in the heat of the moment.
“That’s understandable. I think Veronica will understand too when you tell her that.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” he winks. “I think it’s really great that you’re going to talk to her to work things out,” he says assuredly. “Are you going to see Brett today?”
“No. He told me that I should go talk to Veronica and spend some time with her. We’re going to go out tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’m glad you have Brett. He’s a good guy.”
My face becomes crimson at the flash of memories that spark in my mind after hearing this compliment. Something tells me that if he knew that Brett and I had sex, he would feel very differently about him. “Ask him if he wants to join us tonight. I haven’t seen him yet to thank him.”
Not happening.
I don’t think I can handle having Brett and my dad in the same room right now. Way too awkward.
Too avoid further conversation about Brett, I lie and tell him, “I’ll ask.”
“Okay, well…whatever you decide to do today, have fun and make sure you’re back here by five. Meryl will never forgive us if we’re late.” I laugh.
“Sounds good,” I say, walking my dirty dishes to the sink. I drop them in the soapy water and tell him quickly so it all sounds like one word, “Thanks-for-doing-the-dishes-okay-thanks-bye!” I dart out of the kitchen and up the stairs before he makes me come back down and wash our breakfast dishes. Part of our new normal is:
Whoever doesn’t cook does the dishes.
“Oh, ha ha, Ramona Bean, real sneaky!” he shouts after me. “You got away from doing the dishes this time!”
I laugh villainously back at him as I run upstairs to shower and get dressed.
I have a date with Veronica Wilder.
I hope things can go back to normal.
Even if it is the new normal.
Chapter 36
AS FATE WOULD HAVE it, Veronica is pulling up in her car just as I am walking up to their porch. I gauge her face for clues as to how she feels about seeing me waiting for her. She does a double take but keeps a poker face as she parks next to Mrs. Wilder’s old van. She gets out of the Subaru and pulls her cheer bag out with her. We make eye contact and it becomes clear that she is just as nervous as me.
“Hi,” she says, her eyes moving to the ground.
“Hi.” I look down at my foot toeing the crack on the porch cement.
There’s a long, awkward pause.
Before I open my mouth again I find that my eyes are watering. I gather the courage to look up at her. She’s wearing her black and white cheer uniform. Her long hair is pulled up in a ponytail and she has make-up and sparkles around her eyes. She has tears rolling down her cheeks like the precipitation streaming down a glass of cold ice water.
I can’t lie to her.
“I miss you.” I sniffle. “I miss you so much.”
She lifts her bag off her shoulder and drops it to the ground. “I miss you too, Bean. So so much. I’m so sorry.”
We walk to each other and embrace each other as if we’ve spent a lifetime apart. The love I have for my best friend is a strong and different kind of love than the love I have for anyone else. She’s my platonic soul mate. She could never be replaced or forgotten.
After several long seconds, we break apart. “Can we go to the back and talk?” she asks, sniffling. Her entire face sags. I nod.
We walk through the tall grass, weeds and daffodils that line the side of the house on the path to the backyard. She leads the way to their old metal swing set. Covered in pale, faded purple paint and rust ridden chains and bolts, it’s seen better days. She sits on the swing and loops her arms around the silver and orange rusted chains. I move to join her trying to ignore my imagination of sitting on the swing next to her and having the entire swing set collapse and us having an old mangled pile of rust sprawled over our squished bodies. I carefully and strategically lower my weight on the seat.
“It’s okay, it won’t break,” Veronica tells me, reading my mind. I trust her and allow my final weight to settle in even though the metal lets out a high-pitched wail when I do so.
I look at her and she’s looking down at the weeds a few feet in front of her. She keeps sniffling and wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.
“I’m the worst person in the world. God. I don’t know what to say. I’m just so, so sorry. You’re my best friend and I love you and I let you down.” She breaks down again and covers her face with her hands.
“I love you, too. And I’m sorry, too.”
“No, Ramona. You have nothing to apologize for. I’ve been acting like such a beast. I’m so ashamed. I’ve been an awful friend to you and to Brett. Jimmy told me about your mom and I acted like such an idiot. I thought you were mad at me and I just... I didn’t know what to do or what to say so I just did nothing. It was stupid.”
“I thought you hated me.” I let out a huff at the ridiculousness of all of this. “This is all stupid. I don’t want to fight anymore. I need you, V. I need my BFF. But I also need you to be here for me.”
She nods her head, vigorously. “I swear, Ramona, I’ll never leave you alone like that. Ever.”
“Good. Can we just get past this now and move on? Because I have a lot to tell you and I’m going to need a lot of hugs, Dr. Pepper and video games in the process.” She lets out a small chuckle.
“Yes, please. Of course.” She looks up toward the sky and lets out a sigh of relief. “This week has been such a nightmare without you.” She wipes her under her eyes with the back of her thumbs while I sniffle. “What’s your schedule look like right about now?” Her green eyes find mine.
“Right now
? Ummm...I think I can squeeze you in for a couple of hours,” I joke.
We smile and laugh together. I wipe my damp face as she stands up.
“Come on,” she says holding her hands in front of me. I grab them and she helps pull me up from the swing. The metal creaks with relief. “I have a brand new liter of DP in the fridge.”
We walk arm-in-arm to the front of the house. Just being in her presence comforts me. I take relief knowing that I can get back to normal now. Maybe with Jimmy, Veronica, Brett and my Dad by my side I can embrace a new normal…and what the future holds.
Once inside Veronica’s room, I hook up my Ipod to her speakers. She takes a swig straight out of the one liter bottle, burps and passes it to me.
I play the only song I’ve been able to listen to for the last week. We both lie on her bed and sing along to the most beautiful song ever written, Bridge Over Trouble Water[16]. After a minute, Jimmy walks in wordlessly and collapses on the bed in between us. We all lie and listen.
Roll the Credits!
First of all, I want to thank you for buying this book and reading it. Or just reading it. Or just buying it. Thank you for writing reviews and sharing this book with your friends. Please continue to do so, after all, it's all for you.
I would like to thank my beta-readers: Shanna Guzman, Julie Henderson, Jenn VanderWege, Jenn Crocker, Audrey Barron, Axel, Clarke Vicky, Janee and her sister, and the beautiful, amazing, angel-faced Elyse Sharp. I love you, Elyse. Thanks to all my English teachers, particularly Ms. B and Mr. Pashley (because I'll never call you Jeff). I'm sorry I forgot everything you taught me. I want to thank the editor, Salina Mahoney as well as Javeria Ali, the graphic designer for the artwork and cover. I also want to thank California Institute for the Arts for saving my life.
I'd like to thank the makers of music everywhere, particularly Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Art Garfunkel, Nirvana, The Beatles (and the fake ones––you know who you are) and Creedence Clearwater Revival. You truly make my world go round.
Thanks to all my friends and Facebook friends for sending me your Care Bear Stares AKA Belly Magic.
Thanks to my family: Jetson, Farrin, Mike, Vicky, Bri, Lisa, Marcy, Auntie Yollie, and Grandma. You know how I feel about you and if you don't just listen to In My Life by The Beatles.
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