Authors: Shannon Dermott
What was my problem?
Why was I so pissed? He wasn’t my boyfriend, not even close. Allie, I was
pissed for her. How could he do it? She’d only been gone, what two weeks?
The burn in my calves
said I was running hard. Way too hard. Slowing my pace, I only had a mile
left for a cool down to the house, otherwise I would have to add to my
journey. Not wanting to do that, I tried to relax. And that meant clearing
Ethan out of my mind.
Instead, I thought of
Josh and what I would wear on my date tonight.
Homework, chores, and a long talk with
Madison later, I was in the bathroom getting ready when my sister popped in.
“Date with Josh
tonight,” she said, making it a statement and not a question.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Don’t wear a skirt,”
she added.
Turning to her, even
though I could see her in the mirror, I asked, “Why not?”
Sighing like I was some
pitiful child, she patted my arm. “He’ll probably take you bowling.”
Groaning, I said,
“Bowling?” This time I made one word more of a question.
“Yes, silly, and don’t
worry. It will be fun.” I didn’t think so. I hadn’t been bowling in quite
some time. We used to go as a family. But once Jenna and I hit high school,
she’d become too cool to go bowling with her parents. So the ritual had
stopped. Even still, I was never that good, ever. I needed the child guides
raised on the sides to get points on the board. “You know, he’ll stand behind
you and help you line up your shot.”
The imagery should have
formed a picture in my head that included Josh. Instead, I could almost
breathe in Ethan’s scent remembering him lying next to me while we star gazed.
I could feel his heat next to me. Opening my eyes, Jenna looked at me
suspiciously.
“If I didn’t know any
better, that look said you were thinking of you and Josh doing much more than
that. And let me tell you I don’t approve. I mean, this relationship is
new. You shouldn’t’ be thinking about things like that.”
She had it all wrong.
I hadn’t been thinking of Josh at all. “Don’t you worry about me? You try to
keep your panties on with Billy so close. Or if you decide to do it, you tell
me first.”
Blushing, she shook her
head and left the bathroom. Following her out, I headed into my bedroom to
rethink my outfit. I had been planning to wear a skirt. But no way was I
bowling in a skirt.
An hour later, Josh was
at the door, talking to my parents when I came downstairs in skinny jeans and a
red thin strapped top. It was a simple outfit, but the jeans rode low, and the
top just skimmed the top of them. Not a fan of makeup, I had the barest hints
of it to liven up my pale face.
Josh’s hand touched the
small of my back when I stood in front of him to talk to my father. “Daddy,
I’ll see you later.”
Leaning over to me, my
father kissed my forehead. “Be safe.” Then he looked at Josh, “Have her home
at a decent time.”
“Of course, Mr.
Shelby,” Josh said.
And Jenna had been
right. We ended up at the bowling alley, bordering our town and the next. It
was Saturday, and there was a brisk crowd with leagues and such. Josh must
have preplanned because we had an empty lane ready for us.
Thankful Jenna had
warned me, I had worn socks. The thought of putting my bare feet in used
bowling shoes sent a shudder through me.
“Are you cold?” Josh
asked.
Had he been watching
me? Well, duh, of course. But then again, maybe he’d only seen the hairs rise
all over my skin.
“No,” I said, giving
him a reassuring smile. Walking over to where he sat in front of the little
computer to load our names in, I placed my hands on his shoulders and leaned
in. “You know, I suck at this.”
“I heard,” he said with
faint amusement in his voice.
Sighing, I said,
“Jenna.”
Chuckling, he said,
“Yes, she is a legion of information.”
Pondering that, I stood
and went to the rack of balls to look for the one with the smallest number on
it. Hopefully I would find a six. That was more for children, but I didn’t
care. Josh apparently finished setting up the game because he was behind me,
just like my sister predicted. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she
was pulling both of our strings in some sort of matchmaker ploy.
“This one,” he said,
pointing to a fuchsia ball with the number 8 on it.
“Actually, I was
looking for a six.” Just then, I spotted a bright yellow ball with a six
etched into it.
Shaking his head, he
said, “Trust me, this is the way to go.”
Knowing it was Saturday
night, and kids weren’t allowed in after this time, I let the yellow ball stay
where it was. I was more than certain after I proved him wrong, the ball would
still be there for me to get.
Looking up at the
board, I noticed he put me first. “Hey, no fair,” I whined.
“What?” he asked,
trying to look innocent.
“Don’t play that game.
You should go first,” I said. “That way, I’ll have the last play to try and
beat you.”
Coming closer, he said,
“I don’t think that will help.”
Narrowing my eyes at
him at the apparent insult, I laughed. “Okay, fine. I suck. But you could give
me false hope.”
“I did,” he said. “I’m
letting you go first and set the pace.”
But we were laughing.
It was kind of easy being here with him alone. Taking my hand, he walked me up
to the line. Holding up the ball, so his fingers were underneath, he said,
“There is an art to releasing the ball. But the most important thing to
remember is that how you release it at the end will determine the direction of
the ball.”
“Duh,” I said.
Laughing, he handed me
the ball. Taking it, I slipped my three fingers in the predrilled holes. His
hand met my waist and guided me back some. I looped the ball backwards. “Wait
there, tiger,” he said, taking my wrist. “You haven’t even positioned your
body yet. You just can’t toss the ball.”
Moving me so I angled a
bit, his body was ever closer to mine. I bent forward a little, and I was
pressed firmly to him. I heard him groan and smiled to myself. As my arm moved
forward, I heard his whisper, “Release,” in my ear. As I let go of the ball,
he held me in place, and I swear I felt something firm against my bottom.
When the pins began to
fall, I was amazed. Three pins were left standing in the end. Another lesson,
and I only had one pin after my second turn. My confidence took a tumble when
Josh got a strike with his first shot.
It wasn’t bad; it just
meant that I would have more one-on-one lessons. When the game was done, my
score had been left in the dust. Even though I managed to clear most pins with
every go, he’d gotten more strikes than spares.
“Next time,” he said,
when we peeled out of the lot. “Are you ready to go home?” he asked.
“No,” I said in all
honesty. It was still rather early, and I wasn’t ready for the night to end.
It wasn’t fireworks, but did feel something when he was so close.
Grinning, he drove on. When he pulled
up to school, I was sort of taken aback. Getting out, he walked around the car
while I sat. It was night, and there weren’t any activities going on. It was
kind of weird to see the school like this.
Opening my door, he
held out a hand to me. Taking it, I was momentarily scooped in his arms.
Looking up at him, he bent down and brushed his lips across mine. I wasn’t a
pro at kissing. Still an amateur, I paid more attention to what I was doing
than how it made me feel. Josh had plenty of girls to compare me to and I
didn’t want to look like an idiot. I wanted to relax but I was so nervous
about making a mistake. I did my best to match his actions with that of my
own.
Finally, we broke apart
long enough for us to catch our breath. At the close of the car door, we ended
up in the end zone of the football field. Dark as it was, I could imagine the
bright lights and I could hear the crowd roar with anticipation of a win.
“So this is where the
magic happens,” I said.
Looking up into the sky
with the moon full and shining what little light there was down on us, he said,
“This is where my Dad wants the magic to happen.”
Although he was responding
to me, it was as if I wasn’t there. Then he tugged on my arm, leading us to
the stands. We didn’t sit in the first row. He pulled us into the third. “I
always wondered what it would be like to sit here and watch a game.”
His eyes held that faraway
look. He was fighting his own demons, and I wasn’t sure what to say. “Can’t
you just tell him no?” I asked.
Focusing his eyes on me
for the first time since we stepped on the field, I saw that was a big no.
“It’s not that easy. Even though I hear my Mom tell him to stop living his
dream through me, I don’t want to disappoint him, you know?”
Nodding, I held his
hand tighter. This wasn’t a problem I could solve for him. All I could do was
be there for him. Like a friend. That thought gave me pause. Josh was the
first guy I ever dated and I wasn’t sure how I should feel. He was great to
look at. But the nervousness I felt was fear not living up to the other girls
he was with, not the nervous anticipation from wanting to be with him.
Staring into the
darkness, I felt my hair, which I’d worn loose tonight, brush away from my
shoulder. Then his hand cupped the base of my skull, gently turning me. There
in his eyes, I felt his heated desire. When he moved me to meet his kiss, I
did. There was feeling in that kiss. Strong emotions that came from all the
things he couldn’t say. I tried to respond in kind, but the passion of being
here was his alone.
Soon his hand found my
collarbone and glided down my hair to grip me at my waist. I had never been
kissed like this. Well, heck, I had only been kissed a few times, and most of
them with Josh. Feeling breathless, I pulled back a little to take in some
air. Too soon, his mouth was on mine. His hand skimmed across my stomach and
up along my ribcage where it stopped.
As if I had answered
his question, he moved his hand and skimmed it over my breast. I froze. He
froze. Pulling back, his hand dropped away.
Following his hand’s
safe retreat to his own lap, I met his gaze. I saw confusion and maybe even a hint
of anger there.
“I’m sorry… I
thought…,” he stammered. His hand brushed over his head like he didn’t know
what to do or say.
I did. “You thought
what?” It was a question, but there was annoyance in my own words. Did he
think I was an easy target? Had this been what all his attention was about?
Ask the lame girl out, and she will give it up with no problems.
“I thought this is what
you wanted,” he managed to say.
Leaning back from my
astonishment at his words, I hardened my eyes. “What. I. Wanted,” I said
enunciating each word.
“Yeah, I mean, Jenna
told me you thought I was moving too slow,” he said, dead serious.
My eyes had to look
like miniature full moons because I gaped. “Jenna told you what?”
“You didn’t say that,”
he said, looking confused again.
Thinking for a second,
I recalled the conversation. Not one to lie, I said, “Yeah, but I said that
the night after our first date, and I was confused by your kiss on the cheek.
That is a far cry from making out to being groped.” My words were filled with
heat and venom. Some of it directed at him and the rest for wanting to wrap my
hands around my sister’s throat.
“Look, maybe, I should
take you home,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air like he was done with
me.
“I think that is a good
idea.” We stood and walked out of the bleachers. His long purposeful strides
put him ahead of me. But being alone, I was able to hear him when he spoke
more to himself than to me.
“I should have gone to
the party tonight,” he muttered.
Something about how he
said it, and his words set me off. Halting, I said, “You know what, Josh? Why
don’t you run along and get to that party. I’ll find my own way home.”
Turning to face me, we
stood several yards apart. “Don’t be stupid,” he said.
“Stupid. You know
what’s stupid. What is stupid is for me to get in that car with you right now
with how I’m feeling. Stupid is you making a leap from going slow to a high
speed chase. Now go,” I yelled.
Shaking his head,
trying to hold on to his own anger, he said, “I’m not leaving you alone here in
the dark.”
Crossing my arms over
my chest, I spat the words, “I’m not a girl who needs hand-holding. This is
our school. I can find my way home from here.”
“Fine,” he said,
stalking off. The next thing I knew, his engine fired to life, and he pulled
out.
A cool chill seemed to
cover my arms. I couldn’t believe he actually left. Yes, I’d meant my words.
But somewhere deep inside me, I hadn’t expected him to really leave.