by J. L. Wyer
“Open.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I let her pop the cucumber in my mouth and she licks her fingers afterwards.
She walks over to the sink and hip-bumps Julien out of the way so she can wash her hands. “Salad is done.”
The least I can do is help drain the pasta. Julien takes it from me and dumps it into a pot with the sauce and mixes everything together.
“All right. Dinner’s ready.”
I put out three bowls and we serve ourselves. “Living room?” I suggest.
We choose to sit on the floor and use the the coffee table. I make sure to sit across from Liz so I can look at her while we eat. As soon as we start digging into our food, her phone rings. She had placed it on the coffee table when she sat down.
“I need to take this. Sorry.” She raises the phone up to her face and smiles brightly. “Hey, Daniel.”
Over the video call we hear, “Hey, sweetheart. Is it a bad time?”
“We just sat down for dinner. Hold on.” Liz stands up and comes around the table so she’s behind me and Julien. "Say hi," she tells us. We wave at Daniel and he chuckles.
“I'll leave you guys to it. Text me if you're going to be later than eleven,” he tells Liz.
“Will do,” she replies and disconnects the video call.
“Does he always check up on you?”
Liz sits back down and twirls some pasta around with her fork. “Pretty much, but I'm used to it.”
Julien sucks in a noodle until it disappears into his mouth. “Football game on Friday.”
“That means no races at the Fields, right?” Liz asks. She tries to imitate Julien by slurping her pasta between her pursed lips, but her noodle gets stuck halfway and wiggles around like a snake. She gives up, grabs the end with her fingers, and dissolves into giggles trying to get the rest of it in her mouth.
Since I know she doesn’t remember, I explain to her, “The races always happen on Friday nights, but Ry doesn't go if there's a football game. For home games, we do a tailgate with my truck in the parking lot at school. It's a lot of fun. You used to love it. You're coming, right?”
“Absolutely. When do I get to see you play soccer, Julien?”
“First home game is mid-October this year and our season runs until February. The varsity team plays on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“When does swimming start up?” she asks me.
“Since everything is indoors now, our meets start on the first week of December.”
“You guys told me that I never did any kind of sport, but I think I might be interested in joining the cross-country team. I saw their first competition is at the end of this month. I hope I'm not too late to sign up.”
I tap her fork with mine. "I'm sure they'd make an exception since, you know," I say, leaving out the rest of the sentence about her accident.
Julien clinks his fork with ours. “If not, there's always outdoor track and field. Their season doesn't begin until late February.”
“En garde,” Liz challenges playfully. Julien and I meet her fork with ours, and our spaghetti dinner devolves into a sword battle of clinking stainless steel.
After we finish eating, we grab some sodas and head out to the back deck. Dad installed outdoor speakers, so I turn on some music. Liz grabs a volleyball that Jules and I left out earlier today. We don't have a net up as we usually just hit the ball back and forth to each other.
“You game?” she asks us.
We're five minutes into our back-and-forth volleying game when I'm hit on the side of the head with a blast of water. Ryder is standing ten feet away with a super soaker, laughing uproariously. Julien has already taken off in search of our water guns.
Ryder aims at Liz, a wicked gleam on his face. She shrieks and jumps behind me.
Julien bellows from the side of the house. “It's on now!” He attacks Ryder with a stream of water, and they start chasing each other around the backyard.
“Now's our chance,” I tell Liz, grabbing her hand and dashing us to the side of the house where I know Julien would have left the other super soakers next to the outdoor spigot.
I fill ours up and hand her the biggest one. She's smiling at me so big and looking at me with such happiness, I can't stop myself from doing what I shouldn't.
I kiss her.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth
Holy crap! Jayson just kissed me. Then my brain overloads with flashes of disjointed images. Jayson climbing through my window. Jayson pushing me in a swing. Jayson hovering over me in bed, his silver eyes capturing mine. And then nothing.
When I come back to reality, he’s staring at me with concern. “Liz? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”
I force myself to breathe in and out slowly. The guys don't know about my memory blackouts because I haven't told anyone about them. I need to distract him before he figures out that my zombied-out reaction wasn't caused by him kissing me. I do the only I can think of— I pull the trigger on my water gun, hitting him directly in the chest, and take off running.
By the time we are out of water, all four of us are soaked to the bone and look like drowned rats. I begin to shiver despite it still being warm outside.
“Can I borrow some clothes to change into?” I ask the twins.
Jayson wraps his arm around my shoulder and passes my water gun to Julien. The heat radiating off his body makes me lean into him, seeking his warmth.
“Yeah. Let's get inside. I have some sweatpants and a T-shirt you can borrow. Jules, can you loan Ryder some clothes?”
Ryder walks past us. “I have a spare set of clothes in my car. I'll be right back.”
Julien is already changed by the time Jayson hands me some dry clothes. “Can I change in the hallway bathroom?”
Jayson and Julien’s bathroom is connected to their room, and for some reason, I don’t feel comfortable changing in there.
“Not at all.”
I step inside the hall bathroom, closing and locking the door. After a quick search, I find a towel rolled up on a shelf and use it dry myself off with, then towel dry my wet hair before changing into dry clothes. I leave my wet clothes hanging over the lip of the tub. I see a crossword book and a pencil lying on the bathroom counter and, taking the pencil, I twirl my hair around it, then shove the pencil into the ball of hair to make a sloppy top bun. I hear Jayson and Ryder talking out in the hallway. Opening the bathroom door, I watch Ryder go into the bedroom as Jayson descends the stairs.
I tiptoe over to the top of the stairs to make sure the coast is clear and listen as Jayson and Julien argue over what movie to watch. Carefully, I make way to the twins' bedroom and quietly open the door, slip inside, then close the door behind me with a nearly silent click. I immediately stop breathing when I turn around and see Ryder's naked back. Oh. My. God.
The sight of him shirtless has me weak in the knees, and I lean back against the door to steady my nerves. My hand goes to my chest, trying to hold back my pounding heart. I am in so much trouble with this boy.
“Hi.” I try to control the breathiness of my voice but fail miserably. Ryder abruptly spins around at the sound of my voice, but before he can say anything, I’m on him in flash. He gives a small grunt when I tackle him back onto the bed.
“Hi,” he whispers up at me, a goofy smile on his face.
“I couldn’t wait to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This,” I tell him, kissing him like my life depended on it. Ryder's arms wrap around me, bringing me down on top of him.
Our kiss this time is slow and sweet, but just as wonderful as the one we shared earlier today in the music room.
Once we pull apart, I push myself up using my arms so I can see his face. “Did you have a good time with Fallon?”
“Elizabeth,” he says, sitting up and burying his nose in crook of my shoulder. I think I've rendered him speechless. I love how I affect him as much as he does me. I don’t know what it is about Ryder and why I can't seem to sta
y away from him. All I know for certain is that I find him irresistible.
“He wanted me to check out his new car,” he eventually murmurs into my neck.
“The Radical?”
He lifts his head, those beautiful copper eyes looking at me. “No. He bought a Porsche 911.”
“How many cars does he have?”
Ryder shakes his head, chuckling. “You don't want to know. I even have trouble keeping up.”
I kiss him quickly one last time before slipping off his lap. “Don't want to get caught. I'll go out first,” I tell him, opening the bedroom door and peeking out to make sure the coast is still clear. I give him a thumb’s up before I walk out.
“Hey, Elizabeth,” Ryder quietly calls from the bed where he's still sitting, looking at me in a daze.
“Yeah?”
“You're beautiful. Just thought I'd tell you that.” That goofy grin makes its way across his face again.
I step out into the hallway and brace against the wall, feeling a little bit panicked but a whole lot happy. Panicked because I think I’m falling in love with him, and happy for the exact same reason.
When I get home later that night, I text Jayson and Julien to let them know I’m safe and sound. I take a quick shower and slip on my usual bedtime outfit of boy shorts and a tank top. Slipping under the bedcovers, I pose for a selfie with my phone and send it to Ryder.
Me: Goodnight Ryder.
HellcatClone: You’re killing me here.
I lick my lips. I can still taste his kiss on them.
Me: Thank you for saying yes. Looking forward to our date.
HellcatClone: Thank you for asking me. And I can't wait either.
Me: Was this how it was like before between us?
HellcatClone: This is so much better than before.
Me: Running with Julien in the morning. Breakfast when I get back?
HellcatClone: Won't be able to stay long. Visiting the grandparents tomorrow.
Me: Okay.
Me: Bring more donuts?
HellcatClone: Anything for you, Elizabeth.
Me: Goodnight Ryder.
HellcatClone: Sweet dreams baby.
Baby.
I unpack the bag I had with me today. When I pull out the plastic grocery bag that I put my wet clothes in, a silver origami star falls out and lands on the floor at my feet. Perplexed, I pick it up and notice some writing peeking out from one of the folds. I unfold it to see a message.
“You aren’t just a star to me, you are my whole damn sky.”
Chapter 17
All Our Next Times
Elizabeth
“I don't get it,” Trevor says in frustration.
I'm lying on my stomach on Trevor and Meredith's living room rug. Our class finished reading “The Importance of Being Earnest,” but now our teacher says we have to re-read it and annotate it using colored pencils, highlighters, and sticky notes. I get the reason for annotating text, but I still find it stupid and a waste of time. I also hate scribbling all over the pages of the book. How can anyone decipher all the lines, icons, and tiny hand-written print? It's not like there's a lot of empty space on the pages to write anything extra. I mean, seriously, a bunch of jumbled-up, illegible text is not going to be helpful in remembering what happened in the story.
“She's going to look through everyone's paperback copy and grade it. We don't have a choice,” I answer.
Trevor rolls over and knocks into me. I poke him in the side with my blue marker.
“No. I meant I don't get why everyone thinks this play is funny. Victorian Englanders must have been a depressing group of people if this was considered humorous.”
“It's called wry humor. Wilde was an aesthete.”
“Is that going to be on the test?” Meredith asks from the sofa.
I look over my shoulder at her. “More than likely.” She scribbles on a sticky note and slaps it on a page in her book.
Trevor nudges my bare foot with his sock-covered one. “There's a party on Saturday at Jeff's house. His parents are going to be out of town. Want to go?”
“I’ve got a date on Saturday,” I blurt out before I realize I’m saying it.
“What date?” Trevor asks me.
Before I can come up with an answer to cover my stupid outburst, Meredith shouts, “I knew it! It’s Ryder, isn’t it? I knew you were lying when you said you guys were only friends.”
I blush feverously and busy myself with flipping pages of the book.
“Oh, my God, you’re blushing like crazy!”
“Can we please just drop it?” I plead.
“Meredith, chill,” Trevor tells her. “If Ace wants to talk about it, she will. It’s none of our business anyway. We’re here to work on the assignment, not discuss her love life.”
“Oh, fine,” she pouts.
I grin at Trevor. “Thank you, Trevor.”
“So, does this mean I can't ever ask you out?” He gives me his twin-dimpled smile and I roll my eyes.
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me when I can?”
“Is he always like this?” I ask Meredith.
“Hey, don't get me roped into your teen dating drama. I already warned you that my brother was bad boyfriend material. What you do with that information is up to you.”
“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, sis.”
“That's my job!” she replies cheerily.
“Yes, if I’m ever available, I will let you know,” I tell Trevor, and he does an enthusiastic fist pump in the air.
“Still in the game,” he says, but I know he’s just messing with me. Trevor is a just natural flirt.
“You haven't even left the bench, doofus.” Meredith chides, and I laugh.
Trevor hops up off the floor. “Getting me a soda. You guys want anything?”
“I'm good, thanks.”
Meredith wads up a ball of paper and chucks it at him. “Diet cola, please.”
Trevor throws the paper ball back at her. “Because of that, you can get it yourself.”
“Oh, come on, Trev!” she whines, but he's already gone. “I told you he had a crush on you.”
“And I keep telling you that he really doesn’t.” I chew on my bottom lip then look over at her. “Hey, Mer. If Ryder and I were dating — something that I will neither confirm nor deny — I will need you to keep it a secret for now.”
She squints her eyes at me. “Why? If I was going out with that gorgeous man-on-a-stick, I would be shouting it from the school rooftop. Ryder is insanely hot.”
She doesn't know the half of it. She hasn't seen him shirtless, let alone been kissed by him. That boy is dangerous to females everywhere. And he wants me. My inside girlie-girl does a happy dance.
“If you come over to my house on Saturday and help me get ready for my date, I'll tell you everything.”
“Deal!” She flings all of her markers and sticky notes in the air and takes Trevor's place on the floor with me. “I'll make sure Trev doesn't say anything either.”
“Hey! That's my spot,” he says, coming back in, soda in hand.
“You snooze, you lose.”
My phone dings with an incoming text.
HellcatClone: Heading your way. Be there in 5.
“You guys mind if I cut out early?”
Since Meredith is beside me, she sees the text and wiggles her eyebrows at me.
I grab my bag and put all my stuff back in it. “Oh. There's a tailgate party before the home game on Friday. Consider yourselves invited. We'll be hanging around Jayson's truck in the student parking lot at school.”
Meredith groans. “I hate football.”
“I don't remember if I do or not. But at least you'll have me there to talk to.”
Trevor flops onto the couch. “Sis, think of it this way. You get to watch a bunch sweaty guys tackling one another.”
“I can be down with that.”
Something in my bag catches my eye. It's another silver o
rigami star. I open it up as I walk to the front door. “Love is not written on paper, for paper can be erased. Nor is it etched on stone, for stone can be broken. But it is inscribed on a heart and there it shall remain forever.”
Ryder hasn’t said anything to me about the stars, and I don’t want to ruin his romantic gesture by bringing them up and spoiling his surprises. It's such a sweet, romantic thing to do. Last night, I had a dream where I was sitting on the branch of a tree; one that was sprinkled with a million twinkling stars that looked like the paper stars I've been getting.
I tell the twins bye, and just as I step outside, I glance over to see Ryder’s black Hellcat parked behind my red one. He’s leaning casually back against the hood, his hands in his jeans pocket and legs crossed at the ankles. I can't stop the dreamy sigh that escapes my lips.
Meredith giggles behind me and I jump.
“Will you kindly stop sneaking up on me? You're like a fairy ninja.”
She blows me a kiss. I cross my eyes at her.
“Girl, you are so gone for that boy — allegedly,” she adds with a wink.
Yes, I absolutely am.
Meredith waves to Ryder and he waves back. He gives me a chin jerk, which is a guy's way of asking you to come here. It should look cocky, but when he does it, it only makes me swoon. I practically skip across the driveway to meet him.
“Hey,” I tell him.
“Hey back.” He traces a single finger down the side of my uplifted, smiling face before pulling it back.
I want to grab ahold of his front belt loops in his jeans and lean in to kiss him, but I know we have an audience, so I try to behave myself. It’s really hard.
“What’s up, man,” Trevor greets him from the porch.
“Not much. Just picking up Elizabeth.”
That would make sense if my car wasn’t parked right in front of his. We’ll need to brush up on our “keeping things secret” excuses.
“Good study session?” he asks me.
“Yeah.” My tongue is stuck on spouting only monosyllabic words again.
“See ya at school tomorrow, Ace.”
I turn around. “Bye Trevor. Bye Mer.”
Ryder takes my bag and places his hand possessively on my lower back as he walks me to my car.