Authors: R.J. Lewis
“Okay, Jaxon. I’ll let you take me.”
“Let me? You act like I’m dragging you…” He looked wounded.
“No, it’s not that at all.” I shook my head at myself; I shouldn’t have picked those words! I grabbed his hand and looked him square in the eye and said, “Thank you for asking me out to Prom, and I would love to go with you. Especially if it means you won’t
deflower
me – that’ll take a load off my shoulders.” To emphasize my point, I gave him a light kiss on the cheek, and his eyes brightened.
Lightly laughing, he arched a brow. “Gratitude. That emotion suits you, Sara. I promise you’ll have a great night.”
“Yeah, fine, just never use the word ‘deflower’ again when you’re around me or my friends.”
“I’d never bring that up around people you know.” He was so sincere saying that, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was up with this serious shift in mood. I wasn’t accustomed to him being so… genuine and caring.
We stared at each other for a long while as he softly drew circles around my palm with his forefinger. All the while I kept trying to decode the face he was giving me; it was an expression he’d only started giving me lately, filled with an admiration that ran deep in a way that fluttered my heart uneasily. Every time it snuck on by, I squashed it like a bug; prolonging the denial was the only way I could get out of the truth of what was unravelling between us.
You would have thought Christ returned in the flesh to proclaim saviour to all his followers the way Lucinda reacted to the news. She was over the moon – no, over the Milky Way would be more accurate – at learning that Jaxon would be my date. It was like Christmas every day leading up to Prom.
I eventually felt better at having him as my date. If it was up to me, I would have preferred someone ask me out of true romantic interest, but I’d gotten over that disappointment.
I’d picked out a pink coral heart shaped bodice dress encrusted with jewels (fake of course) with a flowing A-line chiffon skirt. I left my dark hair down in long curls, decorated myself with stud earrings and a fake pearl necklace that Lucinda had picked up the day before. She gave me a French manicure that morning, and due to last minute timing, picked up my pink jewel encrusted high heels to match my dress. Then she came home, did my make-up, fed me nothing but an orange and water so that I wouldn’t get “bloated” and told me to wait in the bedroom until Jaxon was done dressing in her room.
When she finally let us see each other, my eyes bulged out of my head. He was wearing a black tuxedo, hair so completely slicked back it almost looked like he had short hair; he looked polished, and even his cologne smelled fresh when it wafted into my nostrils. The suit made him look extra masculine the way it framed his broad shoulders and chiselled body.
He looked me up and down with a hard to read expression. I half expected him to laugh and make fun of me like he usually did for looking so girly, but he didn’t say a word for the longest time. Lucinda directed us to stand in front of the living room area so she could take photos. Then she marched us outside to stand in front of her well-manicured garden for even more photos. All the while she kept telling us to get closer, for Jaxon to put a hand on my lower back and for me to lean into his side as if we were a couple.
This would have made us giggle like idiots any other day, but I felt strangely nervous. It didn’t help that he didn’t laugh about it either, and that he was stiff next to me when I got any closer to him. He loosened up after the photos, and we left in his car to the recreation centre where the prom was.
There were so many people there, people I’d seen every day in class, or around the cafeteria, and ones I never had the chance to associate with. The girls were dolled up, dressed in flashy looking dresses, and I had a momentary anxiety attack at having to blend in among them. I certainly didn’t feel as confident as them. I had half the urge to turn back and go straight home.
“Let’s go have some fun at your prom,” Jaxon said to me as he turned off the engine.
We got out and walked inside, hand in hand. Tables were set up everywhere for the buffet, and a dance floor was already starting to crowd with couples dancing to fast paced music. As we made our way to our table, I felt like someone had set me on fire. The amounts of stares from everyone made me want to shrink my shoulders into myself and disappear.
The girls were of course gawking at Jaxon, but the guys…. Well, that was nerve wracking.
“Is there something wrong with my dress?” I asked Jaxon as we neared our table.
He looked me up and down, scrunched his eyebrows and then broke into a smirk when he realized why I asked the question. He noticed the stares too. “They’re not looking at you because there’s something wrong with your dress, dummy,” he said, giving me a light push on the shoulder. “They’re looking at you because you look gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous?” I repeated, eyeing Jaxon suspiciously. Was he trying to be funny?
“Afraid so, Sara. You look hot.” He spoke so casually and then shrugged as he looked around the place. “Most of these girls pale next to you. That’s why some of them are staring daggers into the back of your head.”
Before I could respond, we were barraged by some of my peers and their dates. Being among friendly faces, I was able to forget the attention even though it felt like there was a neon sign on the two of us.
The evening was fun. We had a buffet followed by an awards ceremony that students had participated in to vote for their favourite friends. Afterwards, tables were pushed aside and the dance floor was made bigger to accommodate everyone.
Jaxon, who looked calm and easy, had a content smile on his face throughout. Then he grabbed my arm and forced me up.
“I’m not a dancer,” I squeaked loudly, pushing myself back into my seat.
“Don’t be boring, Sara,” he replied, pulling me forward onto my feet. “I told you I was going to dance with you. So come.”
I was mortified at first, especially when he broke out dancing in front of my stiff body. I covered my face with my hands, fighting the blush that wormed itself in. But he grabbed me and brought me close to him, moving in ways that forced my own body to reciprocate. Pulling away my hands so that I could see him, he raised his eyebrows and said, “Relax, Tiny. Just enjoy yourself. Pretend no one’s watching.”
Giggling like a school girl and terrified of how I must have looked, I did what he asked. Everyone was so involved with their partners, and with their friends, there was no concern over anyone’s terrible dancing skills. In fact, as I looked around, there weren’t many fantastic dancers at all. Feeling more at ease, I let go and moved along with the music.
Despite the amount of attention girls were paying Jaxon, he batted nobody an eye. He kept his eyes solely on me, bringing me even closer when the music slowed down so that I could see nothing but his face and shoulders.
“You clean up really well,” I muttered to him.
“Expected me to look like a bum?”
“No, just not this slick.”
He smiled widely. “I’ll take that as a compliment, right?”
“Does it sound like an insult?”
I felt his shoulders shrug under my arms. “Telling me I look good tonight might mean I look terrible most days. So, knowing you, there could be a hidden insult somewhere in there.”
I stared into his deep blue eyes, watching the humour dance about his face faster than our own dancing. In fact, we were way slower than everyone else, especially now that the music had changed and picked up pace. My arms still comfortably sat around his neck, and my fingers absentmindedly pulled at the back of his hair, tangling it around each finger.
“You should know better than anyone else that you’re handsome,” I said to him, motioning with my chin around us. “You’ve never had a problem with girls. Have you ever even been rejected?”
“No, but like I said before, I never go looking for it.” He was suddenly serious with that statement.
“Why not?” Girls were never a topic of interest between us. This was probably the first time I ever probed him about it.
“Hadn’t met someone I wanted to chase, I guess.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “That feels really relaxing, by the way.”
“What?”
“Your fingers in my hair.”
I frowned at him and assumed he was trying to change the topic of our conversation, so I dropped it. I eyed his straight nose, full lips, chiselled chin, high cheekbones and random freckle here and there, and agreed internally that he would never have to go hunting for a girl – they would come crawling to him. And for the first time, I could really see that beauty about him. It wasn’t the usual “Yeah he’s hot, who cares” attitude, it was more of a “Holy shit, how did I not notice it before?”
The first improper thought I’d ever had of him was right then and there, and it was staring at his lips, thinking,
I wonder what those taste like
. I felt immediately regretful for thinking it; after all, he was my best friend, nothing more.
“You alright?” he asked me.
I must have reddened significantly at my dirty thought. “I’m fine.” I turned my head away from him, mentally kicked myself, and wondered if it was just the special night that had evoked those feelings in me.
“No you’re not.” He put a finger under my chin and forced me to look back up at him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I heaved a shrug, finding it suddenly hot in here with his gaze so intently fixated on me. “Just thinking about what you said. I find it hard to believe you never wanted someone.”
“I didn’t say I never wanted someone.”
“So you do?”
He smiled down at me, wistfully. “I guess you could say that.”
“Well, what’s stopping you? I’m sure she’d move mountains to be with Jaxon Barlow, the bad boy of Gosnells.”
His smile faltered. “That’s not all I am.”
“That’s not you at all,” I corrected him. “I’m just stating a common fact on why girls are crazy for you.”
“I don’t want any of them.” After he said that, I felt his arm tightening around me, and his face coming closer to me. He rested his forehead against my own, and though we were still rocking back and forth, we weren’t at all paying attention to the fast paced music in the background.
It was the feel of him around me, of his forehead against mine, of his gentle and caring voice, and of the way he was looking at me that had my heart stopping cold in its tracks; something was unfolding fast, and I was too terrified to confront it.
That dirty thought of kissing him morphed into doing more. Images flashed through my mind: of his bare strong body wrapped around mine, of his hot breath in my mouth, of his hands roaming up and down my body. His experience would undoubtedly send me over the precipice of bliss. I imagined him satisfied, or nearing the height of it; of his moaning in my ear; of his hands tightening around my waist as he drove himself and me to dizzying ecstasy.
I was fucking him in my head while he was holding me tightly with his forehead against my own! This was wrong, and yet it sent such delicious jolts of pleasure through me. How on earth could it be wrong if it felt so damn right? All the years of suppressing the magnetic pull that was Jaxon had suddenly broken free, and I was orbiting crazily around the scorching sun that was him, just waiting and wanting to be burned.
How could this one moment knock every barrier I put up to ensure our friendship was intact? What did this mean? And could he feel it too?