First and Last (14 page)

“Oh my God!” she yells, writhing back and forth. Her legs draw up and close, but I don’t stop until she’s completely done.

She opens her eyes wide and blinks a few times, clearly dazed by what just happened. I can’t help the cocky grin that possesses my face.

“Holy shit,” she says breathlessly.

“You like?”

She only nods before turning back toward me and my hard on that was abandoned. “Oh, sorry,” she says when she realizes I never finished.

“It’s no big deal.”

“No, I want to finish.” With a more confident and relaxed approach, she grips me in her fist and continues what she was doing. Between seeing my dick in her hand and watching her fall apart a few seconds ago, it doesn’t take much to finish me off.

With Mia lying naked on my chest, I draw small circles on her shoulder, neither of us in a hurry to get dressed. We might not have gone all the way and had sex, but that’s okay. This is perfect. This is better.

“I love you, Blake. Forever.” She yawns and snuggles into me deeper.

“I love you too. Always.”

Present

Y
ou’ve got to move.

I jolt awake and look around, swearing I heard someone talking in my ear. When I see I’m alone, I try to shake it off.

Every muscle and bone from my waist up protests, making their complaints known every moment I’m conscious. I’m not sure how much time has gone by. The area is too dense with trees, and even if that wasn’t the case, the smoke blocks out the sky so I can’t use the sun as a reference.

“This is Blake Collins,” I say into the radio. Every word comes out slow and soft. It hurts to speak and I have to choke back the cough that threatens. “I’m injured. And need. Immediate. Assistance. Does anyone. Copy?”

I rest the radio against my forehead and close my eyes, hoping to hear anyone on the other line. But like all the times before, no one responds and my hope diminishes. My time is running out. If the fire doesn’t eat me up, my injuries will. It’s harder to stay awake and present, and my energy is completely zapped. I’m slipping and I’m not sure how to stop it. I thought I felt helpless as I watched Mia go away to college, but nothing compares to this moment right now.

I’m completely fucked.

August 2002

“S
top thinking about it,” Mia tells me.

I look over at her from the corner of my eye and bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m not.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not ly—”

“You’re biting the inside of your cheek.”

I let out a sigh. “Okay, you got me, but I can’t stop. You leave tomorrow and it’s all I can think about. It’s like my mind can hear the clock ticking constantly until we’re not together anymore.”

“We’ll still be together, there’ll just be more space between us. Plus, you said you’d come visit me and I’ll come home on breaks. We can make this work.” She stares into my eyes with the confidence I wish I had, and it eases my mind a little. If I’m honest with myself, I’m worried we’ll grow apart. That she won’t want a long distance boyfriend and will move on.

“I’ve got an idea,” she says, hopping up from her spot on my bed.

“Uh oh,” I joke.

“Shut it. I’m serious. We should go get tattoos.” Her eyes are bright, but all I can do is blink a couple times at her. This is so out of character. She never does spontaneous things. “You don’t want to?” she asks when I don’t respond.

“I mean, I do, but have you even thought about what you’d get? This will be on your body forever.”

“Well, no,” she admits. “I just thought it would be fun and get us out of here. Take our minds off things.” She averts her eyes with a shrug and that’s when I see it. She’s sad too. Even with the brave front she’s been putting on, she’s as aware of our limited time as I am.

“Okay, we’ll do it.” Her hands clap in excitement. “One condition: I get to pick what we get.”

Her head shakes back and forth. “I don’t think so, mister.”

“Why?”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going in blind.” Her arms cross over her chest, the excitement from moments ago morphing into annoyance.

“That’s what you’re doing now. You don’t even know what you want!” I argue. With an arched eyebrow, she holds her ground and stares at me. “Do you trust me?”

“This isn’t about trust.”

“Yes, it is. So I’ll ask again; do you trust me?” Her dark blues stare into my greens for what feels like minutes until she finally agrees. “Awesome! Let’s go!”

Josh got a tattoo on his eighteenth birthday, so I called him up to see where he went. He told us to call this guy, Dom. It was supposed to be his day off, but he said he’d come in since we were friends of Josh’s. When we walk in, I’m pumped. I guess I’m a little nervous, but mostly excited. This will be something permanent that will tie us to each other for the rest of our lives. And with my recent doubts, this couldn’t have come at a better time.

I go into a private room with Dom to tell him what I want on each of us. I left Mia in the lobby so she couldn’t hear, which she wasn’t happy about. I want it to be a surprise. I pray she loves it. Truth is, I started thinking about getting one of these when I turned eighteen back in March. But I knew whenever I got one, Mia had to be with me.

A few hours go by and he’s finally done with mine. I want to be manly and say it was a piece of cake, but it hurt like hell. Now that I’m looking at the finished product though, I know it was worth every second. Dom does an amazing job on this 3D effect that looks as if pieces of my flesh are being ripped away from my chest to expose my heart underneath. A small lock hangs from a chain that looks to be partially hidden behind my torn skin as it wraps around my heart. It’s dark and edgy and completely badass.

“Holy shit, Dom. You knocked this one out of the park!” I exclaim.

“Glad you like it, bro.” He goes over the aftercare instructions before I go get Mia from the lobby. I wanted her to see them both finished at the same time. With how great this turned out, I’m more anxious than ever for hers.

Mia’s dad would freak if he knew she was doing this, then he’d murder me for taking her. So she wanted to put it somewhere he wouldn’t see: on her hip. I’m not crazy about this Dom guy touching my girl right below her bikini line, but I guess I don’t have a choice.

“You nervous?” I ask her.

“A little,” she admits.

“About getting the tattoo, or what the tattoo will be of?”

She thinks about it for a second. “Surprisingly, I’m not worried about what you picked out for me. I’m scared it’ll hurt.”

“Well, sweetheart, it’s not a massage,” Dom pipes in. I give him a “seriously?” look. He just shrugs and finishes prepping.

I hold Mia’s hand the whole time. She squeezes it every now and then, but she toughs it out and does pretty good. Hers isn’t as intricate, so it only takes about an hour to complete. He wipes it off and says, “There, go check it out.”

She sits up slowly and takes a look. There’s an ornate key with a ribbon on the end. It’s soft and girly, yet strong and bold; everything Mia is. She walks over to the mirror to get a better look. Taking the Saran Wrap off of mine, we stand side by side and admire our new artwork.

I lace my fingers through hers. “You’ll always hold the key to my heart,” I tell her quietly.

In her reflection, I see the tears welling up in her eyes. “I love it,” she rasps out, and I’m so happy and relieved. “And I love you.”

Looking at her warmly, I smile and give her a kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” Grabbing her hand, we walk to the counter, pay, and then head back to my house.

When we walk in, it’s quiet. Flipping on a lamp, my eyes land on a note on the kitchen counter.

There’s leftover pizza in the fridge. Be home late. I’ll be at Barbara’s for girls’ night. Text me if you need anything.

XO,

Mom

“Looks like Mom went out. She won’t be home until later tonight,” I tell Mia. She nods, looking around. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

I pull the pizza Mom saved out of the fridge and heat it up. “What time are you leaving tomorrow morning?”

“Dad and I are getting on the road at seven in the morning. That should put us there around one or two.”

I shouldn’t have brought it up because the next fifteen minutes are spent in deafening silence. I wish there was something I could say to lighten the mood, but the inevitable is hitting us both like a freight train. Time is ticking by despite how desperate we are to freeze it.

“Come here,” I tell her after we’re done eating and I’ve taken our dishes to the sink. She walks over to me in the middle of the kitchen and I wrap my arms around her. My heart beats rapidly, trying to escape from my chest so she can take it with her. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to pretend this isn’t our last night. I want us to act normal and do whatever we normally do.”

“Want to go to my room, listen to music, and just chill then?”

A small smile forms on her lips. “That’s my favorite thing.”

With our hands clasped together, we walk up the stairs and I try hard to not act like I’m walking the plank. It’s just impossible to ignore. With every step, every breath, each word, and every second, we’re that much closer to saying goodbye.

And it’s killing me.

I turn on my stereo to her favorite station. I’m more of a rock guy, but she loves that ‘N Sync and Britney Spears shit. So for her, I’ll risk my stereo bursting into flames from playing shitty music and let her have her way.

Every time we’re in here, we always lie on the bed, stare up at the ceiling, and hold hands. Even when we were only friends, this is what we did. As we grew closer and lines became blurred, a lot more kissing was involved, but this is our center, our starting point.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispers.

“Don’t. I’m not ready to say our goodbyes yet.”

She nods, blinking away the tears. Holding her face in my hands, I do the only thing I know how to comfort her and place my lips on hers. She devours the solace I try to provide not only her, but myself as well. She clings to my shirt and it’s not long until I taste salt on my tongue and know she’s crying. It makes me hold on to her tighter.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I tell her between kisses.