Taken by Storm (13 page)

Authors: Angela Morrison

Tags: #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex, #Christian, #Friendship, #Juvenile Fiction, #Sports & Recreation, #General, #Religious, #Water Sports, #Death & Dying

“You’d tell your parents? That’s sick.”

“I wouldn’t tell them, but when you’re guilty of major sin—”

“Guilt? Sin? Are you for real? How can you love someone without actually loving them?”

“With your heart.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“You’re an expert?”

“Just been there.”

She doesn’t reply.

It’s too dark to see if her face is red again, if her cheeks are hot. Mine are. In the cold car, in this cold country, i feel hot all over. “So, you’re, um, saving yourself?”

She nods. “This is where you shake my hand and drive off into the sunset.” She’s the Ice Queen again. Guarded. Distant. i don’t want her like that. i want her to melt. Maybe we can thaw together.

“What about regular kissing?” spills out of me in that husky voice.

Leesie takes a deep breath and reels off another perfect answer. “The problem with kissing is it builds desire but doesn’t satiate it.”

i slide close to her. “Are you quoting the Sex Lady?”

“No. A prophet said that.” She studies the steering wheel. “Kissing leads to frustration or sin—”

“i can live with frustration.”

She finally turns to face me. “Michael—you shouldn’t—”

i stroke her cheek. It is warm.

i can do this, want to do this, need to try. i’m not sure if it’s wrong or strong. i just want my arms around her slim body, her heart making mine beat, her full lips pressed to mine.

“If i kissed you”—i put my hand under her chin, tip her face to meet my mouth—“would it be okay?”

chapter 16

SAVE ME

LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK

POEM #31, SAMARITANS

I’m supposed to save
him
,
soothe his hurts, cheer his heart, enlighten his soul,
but with salt-soft lips, skilled but gentle,
suspecting mine don’t do this often or ever,
in the front seat of his gram’s rusty blue Chrysler,
he wants to save me.

I panic at the glory of his mouth
caressing mine, pry open the car,
and Cinderella up the porch steps,
away from his arms cradling my body,
his hands harbored in my hair,
his lips lingering at my speed.

He races me to the door, presses me to it,

I can’t . . .
You’re not . . .
We shouldn’t . . .

He obliterates my protests with hot resuscitation.
my cheek melds to his shoulder,
and we savor not alone
until he steals my hand to his lips,
kisses the places he hurt.
I’m lost to his firm chest,
his slender fingertips, his long wavy hair,
his mouth sucking my bottom lip—
the world spins, the stars shift,
and I can’t see anything except his smoky
gray eyes gazing into mine.

You scare me,
whispers
from my mouth across his.

Good,
he breathes into me.
I need you to save me.

I will save him.
I can’t let it be.
Please, lord,
save
me.

LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 10/08 1:17 A.M.

chapter 17

LIGTH OF DAY

LEESIE HUNT / CHATSPOT LOG / 10/08 12:06 P.M.

MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8

i’m the infidel. Forbidden. She needed an out.

She took it way too fast. Freak. The afternoon hours stretch ahead of me and all i have to fill them with is the plate of burnt French toast Gram just gave me. Or i can fill it with Leesie.

i stuff my mouth full, wave at Gram, grab my jacket, and head up the hill to the school.

When i walk through the double glass doors, Leesie’s sitting on the stage scribbling in her notebook. Her nose looks red. Are her eyes wet? Did i do that?

The other kids leave a space around her like she has a disease. Except Troy. He stands in front of her, puts his hands on her knees. She bats them away. He says something. She turns pink.

DeeDee and her clones sitting on the radiator sneak into the corner of my eye. i think DeeDee yells something at me. i ignore her, cross the room, and boost myself onto the stage beside Leesie. i put my arm around her waist and dredge up a nasty look for Troy. “Leave her alone.”

“Who died and made you king?”

Dumb but still cruel. The guy’s gifted. i slide off the stage, bringing Leesie with me, landing face-to-face, and say, “Out of the way. We don’t want to foul ourselves in your filth.”

Troy doesn’t budge. “You’re wasting your time, Scuba Boy.”

i let go of Leesie and grab the front of Troy’s shirt. “Shut up.” i push the jerk out of the way. Massively strong. Hero strong.

i steer Leesie for the front door. “Let’s get out of here.” i want to cut class, make out with her all afternoon.

“The bell’s going to ring.”

My hand slips down to her hip—i hope Troy is still watching. “You want to go to class?”

Leesie nudges my hand back to her waist and makes me walk toward her locker. She’s blinking a lot. “Good thing you showed.” She sniffs. “I was getting ready to knee him hard.”

“Right.”

She elbows me. “We had self-defense in PE. That’s my best move.” She stops and gets a drink at the fountain.

i bend over her. “When are you going to report that jerk?”

She stands up. Her face is in control again. “Don’t go there. I’d end up getting suspended.”

i wipe a drip from the side of her mouth. “i’d like to rip him apart.”

“Then you’d get suspended, too.” She’s walking. “Don’t worry. It’s all going to be over soon.”

“You still planning to hang him off the trestle?”

“No. We’re seniors.”

“Oh, right.” i hadn’t thought of that.

We arrive at her locker. She opens it, turns to face me. “If I’m just a diversion, that’s fine.” She touches my lips with her fingertips. “Maybe it’s better.”

“What do you mean?”

“The religion thing.” She chews on the lip i sucked on last night, want to suck on right now. “I can’t get serious with you.”

Serious? My life is nothing but serious. i nod anyway. “Right.”

“And I don’t think it’s sick.”

i nod again.

“I think it’s natural.” Her forehead wrinkles. “Comfort. Affection. You need that now worse than ever.” She turns around and rummages through her junk, picks up her physics text.

“It’s trig next.” i lean over her shoulder, inhale her hair, and take the book from her.

She turns her back on her trashed locker and puts her hand on my chest. “For me it means something.”

i pull her math text off the top shelf and replace it with the physics book. “Got it.”

She takes it without looking. “I wouldn’t kiss you”—her voice drops to a whisper—“if I didn’t care.” The stillness in her face seeps into me.

i put my hands on her shoulders. “You really okay with this? With me? If you’re going to get zapped by a vengeful god—”

“Last night I decided”—her eyes close—“I want to care more.”

i take her face in my hands, kiss her eyelids and then her mouth, long and slow right there in the hall behind her locker door with her trig book smashed between us. i hope Troy is watching and gets the message. DeeDee, too. i hope the whole freaking world is watching.

Leesie’s god.

My Isadore.

Take that.

chapter 18

HOMEWORK

MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG—VOLUME #8