Authors: Jessa Holbrook
W
e were going to be late for homeroom, but I didn’t care. Neither did Jane. We sat in the back booth at the Daily Grind, Jane nursing her coffee and boggling at me.
I told her everything. The very first thing Will said to me, and the very last. I admitted the secret texts, the ones that I hadn’t told her about before. And I admitted that our attraction was so intense we couldn’t even talk to each other face to face.
I tried to ignore the really exaggerated reactions. That was just Jane’s way of processing a massive load of information in really short order.
Though Jane snorted when I explained that the temptation was just too much, I thought it was important to include, because it was important to me. The physical was a really, really big deal. I’d always felt like Dave was a step or two ahead of me. He never pushed or pressured, but I knew he was ready for sex and I just wasn’t.
Now, though, I wondered if I just wasn’t ready for it with
him
. When Will touched me, I wanted more. When Dave and I made out, I felt happy, but I only wanted exactly as much as I had. It was delicious, but ephemeral. Like cotton candy that immediately melted on my tongue.
At the same time, I had no idea if Will was the kind of guy who’d remember my favorite coffee order or hold my hand at the movies. If he’d write me e-mails in the middle of the night and remember my every detail. Maybe I wasn’t ready for sex with Dave because I was afraid it would change that?
“I’m just confused,” I insisted. “And trying to figure it out. Will gets that things with Dave are incredibly complicated.”
Finally allowed to weigh in, Jane practically lunged over the table. “O-kay, does he understand your special snowflake circumstances? Or is he just excited that he gets to nail two girls at the same time? Maybe he ‘gets’ that things are so complicated because as long as you’re confused, he doesn’t have to offer you any commitment. He’s taking advantage of you, boo!”
I’m not sure what shade of red I turned. I couldn’t see myself. But from the wildfire way it spread across my face, I was betting it was something in the scarlet family. Even the tips of my ears burned. Offended, I said, “It’s not like that.”
Jane groaned, clapping a hand over her face. It wasn’t even necessary. She just did it for effect. “Literally every single person in the history of infidelity says two things: It’s not like that, and she just doesn’t understand me like you do, baby.”
“That’s really gross. And overly specific.”
Fortified with another slug of ethical caffeine, Jane sighed at me. “Sare-bear, seriously.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited. There was no point in arguing with her. She was going to say whatever hideous thing she had to say. The love affirmations almost always came before the Angry Hammer of Jane fell on the unsuspecting villagers.
“You’re smarter than this, Sarah. You deserve better! If you want to get a little something-something on the side . . .” she started.
I cringed.
“Then go for it.”
I froze. Where was the Angry Hammer? Where was the part where she told me that I was a reprehensible human being who deserved to be shunned? I demanded shunning, damn it. Okay, I didn’t. But I did feel a little disappointed. Obviously, kissing Will had caused a teensy bit of brain damage.
“So,” I said. “I’m super confused now.”
Scooting along the booth bench, she slung an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a jerk for screwing around behind Dave’s back.”
There was the Jane I knew and loved. Having my actions described that way actually made me feel a little better. Somebody had to say what I knew in my heart. Cutting her a long, sideward glance, I prompted her. “But?”
“But you’re going to do it anyway. I can talk logic, but you don’t care.”
“I do,” I insisted.
“Nope,” Jane countered. “You want my opinion?”
Carefully, I said, “I actually do.”
Jane shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think because you’re dickmatized.”
Horrified, I leaned away from her. “Jane!”
“You’ve been with Dave how long? Almost three years, right?” She didn’t wait for me to confirm it; she already knew. “The crazy phase is over. You’re together, it’s good, it’s fine. Maybe it’s a little boring, but it’s safe and comfortable. Then Will Spencer comes out of nowhere, and he gets you hot. He’s not safe. He’s not familiar. And he’s not good for you. You’re all enchanted and dazzled.”
“I don’t know where you get this stuff.”
“From observation, yo. So, my opinion is, I have no opinion.” Draining the last of her coffee, she offered me a gentle smile. “You know I’m here for you, but I already told you what I think. Beyond that, you’ll have to figure this one out on your own.”
I couldn’t believe she was surrendering. Maybe I hadn’t explained it well enough. “It’s just complicated with Dave. I do love him, and you know, Dasa’s really important to both of us!”
“Sweetie. You’re the engine in that machine. I know you think you have to have Dave there to make it run. But believe me, you don’t. So . . . go debase yourself with Will. Or don’t. I’m officially Switzerland.”
As confused and conflicted as I was, I realized that Jane’s position of no-position was the best thing she could do for
us
, as friends. Her head was clear enough to see that we weren’t going to agree on this and it would be too easy to let it come between us.
My phone bleated, and I glanced at it. The blank avatar: Will. What was he doing texting me so early? It wasn’t like we could hook up at school. But I wasn’t at school yet, was I? There was a whole town full of places to meet up, if only for a few stolen minutes. Thoughts racing, I pulled up the message hungrily.
Where r u? Need to see you.
“Is that him?” Jane demanded.
I shielded my phone as I replied. Since she was Switzerland, she could sit on her side of the table and just wonder. Keeping my desperation to myself, I tried to play it cool. Biting my lower lip, I considered my words, then sent back,
Sorry u’ll just have to keep needing me, not even @ school yet.
Watching me with keen eyes, Jane waited until I put my phone away. Then, suddenly, she flailed. “Seriously, though, Sarah, really? Of all the people with a reputation for the sexing, you picked Will?”
Now I
was
offended. “He’s not the guy you think he is.”
Jane raised her hands. “I’m going to get a warm up. And ponder you getting your freak on in a dinghy. And under a pool. What’s with all the water, little mermaid?”
I called after her. “Stop making it sound weird!”
As she walked away, she hummed “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” beneath her breath.
My own best friend, the moral center of my universe, had stepped back. I was on my own, and I had to figure it out. Everything felt funhouse crazy, a hall of mirrors where I could see a future with Will down one corridor, and one with Dave down the other.
They both existed as possibilities, but I couldn’t make out the end. There wasn’t a bright neon sign pointing me in the right direction. All I knew was that I had to pick one and hope that I had chosen wisely.
I drained the rest of my coffee and wondered.
~
My morning classes kept my mind off things, at least until our pass-through period: a twenty-minute break between third and fourth period. Some people hit the library to finish up homework at the last minute. A couple of clubs held micro-meetings. For most of us, though, it was just a chance to socialize and chill.
For me, it was a chance to catch up with Will. Already tight with anticipation, I walked the main hall, scanning for him. When I didn’t spot him immediately, I shot off a message.
Still needful?
Y but w trish.
A rock sank in my stomach. It was cool. It was fine. Jealousy gnawed at me all the same. “Not gonna do this,” I said under my breath. I had other things to occupy my time. My newest song, for one.
East River had a pretty great music department, including a couple of soundproof rehearsal booths. I went that way, head down and determined. When I closed the booth door, I shut out the world. I heard my own heartbeat in my ears, my own breath rushing through my chest.
Just when I had lost myself to the music, the booth door opened. The soundproof seal cracked like an egg. A rush of noise flooded in, then died when the seal caught once more. It was Dave, shamelessly cutting in on my session. And the weird thing was, I wasn’t disappointed to see him.
He checked the latch, then turned to me. His crimson hoodie and tan shorts looked tailored to him. Though Dave wasn’t a jock, he took care of himself. He was lean and sculpted, and his clothes hung on him like he was walking the runway for Abercrombie & Fitch. With that dazzling, boyish smile of his, he said, “I thought I’d find you here.”
Though it wasn’t cold, I shivered. Jane was wrong. This wasn’t as simple as she made it sound. Dave and I had been together for a long time, but he was still crush-worthy on a daily basis. He smelled good, like molasses and spice. When he approached, everything stilled—I felt warm and safe, not a hint of drama, even in the distance.
“I didn’t expect to see you until after lunch,” I said.
“I figured,” he said, sliding right into my arms, “since you were working on a new song Sunday that I’d probably find you here.”
“You know me really, really well.”
“And I said to myself, self . . .”
With a laugh, I interrupted. He smelled so good, and I traced swirls up his back, ropey and familiar. This is what I needed. What I wanted. “Did you really say that?”
Touching a finger to my lips, Dave said, “Shhh.”
We still had a whole year of school left together, and all the milestones that came along with it. Ditch Day and senior prom, graduation—we’d do those things together. There were gigs on our calendar; we were going to rule homecoming from the stage.
On the other hand, Will was going to graduate in a month; he’d be long gone before my senior year even began.
Tightening his arms around me, Dave leaned in to kiss my neck. Melting into his embrace, I hid myself against him. He felt good, certain and safe—and sweetness wasn’t a bad thing. I liked his kisses, and I liked the fact that I didn’t feel even a little guilty. I was allowed to have this; he was
my
boyfriend. I ignored the whisper in my head that added,
for now.
Between touches, he went on. “And I said to myself, Sarah works too hard. She’s way too intense. She probably needs some help relaxing.”
Curling my toes, I leaned into him. The funny thing about the booths was that it was absolutely forbidden to touch the acoustic tile walls. That made it a delicious challenge, to hold each other up and let go at the same time.
Unless we were both going to perch on the booth’s tiny wooden stool, this wasn’t going to go much further than a few tingling kisses. But the right lips could make a few kisses go a long, long way. Already, my blood warmed, pulsing slowly through my veins, a happy, lazy beat. Pressing into Dave, I traced my name on his back, and stars and swirls.
My eyes drifted closed, and my thoughts trailed toward the future—I couldn’t deny that a future with Dave felt more certain. Dave’s lips rasped sweetly on my throat. His hands were so sure on my back—they anchored me against him. I insinuated myself against Dave’s chest.
Drifting to my lips unerringly, Dave murmured a few notes from one of our ballads before blending the buzz away with a caress. The sound booth was a cocoon for us, our place in the world and no one else’s. We both knew the song he’d hummed to me, and we moved with it subtly. Not dancing, but something like it. We swayed together in time—perfectly in time.
He nosed against my ear, his breath tickling when he asked, “Better?”
“Getting there,” I replied. I nestled against him lazily, drifting on a sweet, pleasant cloud.
We couldn’t hear the bell, but we both had a good sense of the minutes passing. With one last nuzzle, Dave leaned back. One hand still pressed to my back, he smoothed my hair with the other.
This was love—safety and security and certainty. Having things in common and having a plan. My Instagram account was full of our good times, and so many firsts. Playing the fair together, sneaking out of town for a concert together. And there were the things that couldn’t be captured in a selfie. Knowing each other, being comfortable. So many people wished for that, and I had it. All wrapped up in a boy with a summer smile and golden hair. This was too special to throw away. He was too special.
“What are you smiling about?” Dave asked, his nose crinkling in curiosity.
“Just you,” I said. “Just us.”
I rose up to kiss him again and sighed happily. I didn’t need Jane’s help after all. She could be Switzerland till the end of time, for all I cared. Maybe she’d been right about the dazzling, but right there, surrounded by a hushed and gentle world, I knew what the right choice was. Maybe it had taken all of this to finally realize what I had right in front of me. It was Dave. It had to be Dave.
Didn’t it?
A
fter a concentrated couple of weeks, everything was back on track, and I felt so much better.
I threw myself back into Dave’s arms, and it was great. Will faded into the crowd at school, sort of. He and Tricia were everywhere, on the prom ballots, at the pep rallies. It ached to see him moving on without me, even if it was with his actual girlfriend.
Still, he hit me up with occasional texts like,
wish i could get u alone
.
Stupidly, I answered in kind.
tag, ur it.
Our flirtation continued, but didn’t feel as urgent as it once had. Dave flirted all the time. There wasn’t anything wrong with soaking up a little extra, harmless attention. Will would text-tag me at lunch, even though we didn’t share the same lunch schedule. I’d tag him back in the pass-through period. Sometimes, I’d roll over in the middle of the night, and my phone would be glowing.
Ur it. Come out come out wherever u are.
Finally, one night my conscience got the better of me and I replied,
u still have a girlfriend
.
Will’s reply?
Only bcuz u still have a boyfriend.
I did have a boyfriend. Dave was real. And present. And to be honest, I’d started to get the impression that Will was just messing with me. The blank avatar that kept popping up in my phone was a tease. It wasn’t personal, like when we really talked. It made me ponder new and naughty ways to steal a kiss, but there was no depth to it.
Jane had obviously been right: the more days passed, the more convinced I became that the thing with Will had just been novelty and spark. I had a great boyfriend, who actually wanted to spend time with me, and we had a lot going for us. We were gearing up for a show at the Eden, a three-story club in the next big town over.
We’d talked our way onto the stage there for the first time last year. We showed up with raw hunger, a couple of YouTube videos, and a willingness to fight for even five minutes.
Honestly, I think the owner gave in just to shut us up. He offered us thirty minutes on a Thursday night, the deadest night of the week. Despite that, we killed it. Jane filmed the whole thing, and sometimes I still liked to watch clips from that show.
After that set, we didn’t have to beg to get in the door anymore. Instead, the owner booked us every couple months. We got a split of the receipts and that much more experience in front of a crowd. I was looking forward to another show. And trying to ignore the nagging daydream of Will standing just off stage, waiting for me to walk off into his arms.
Dazzle, I reminded myself. And lust. That’s it.
But it didn’t prevent the lust from rising to the surface. Especially when I parked in the driveway and my phone lit up again. This time, it said,
what about tonight?
With a groan, I replied,
sorry, playing the eden tonight.
Did he have a sixth sense? Had he waited until it was absolutely impossible to meet up to finally get specific? I was so frustrated, but it was probably for the best. My heart and my hormones weren’t as ready to give up on Will as my brain was.
I found my sister Ellie on the front porch as I came up the walk.
“Hey, you,” she said, genuinely glad to see me. Late afternoon sunlight spilled over her silky chestnut hair. Her golden skin gleamed in it. She was compact and graceful and beautiful. And she was in the process of savaging a new pair of pointe shoes.
They were too unforgiving to break in like regular shoes, which is why Ellie was shaving the soles with a Stanley knife. She’d already pried the heel tacks free and torn out the insoles. Still to come was the ritual door-smashing and cutting of the satin. She spent more time defacing shoes than she did going to the movies. Or on dates. Or really, anything.
When I had to pull an all-nighter to wrench the last, perfect lyric out of my head, Ellie understood. And I understood Ellie’s hours at the barre practicing a single position, again and again. The goal was perfection. Transcendence. Capturing that one, elusive moment when the whole universe vibrated on the same note.
That’s why I felt comfortable dropping myself at Ellie’s feet to lean against her knees. We got each other. And I knew she’d never use all the twisted up, messed up drama in my head against me like our responsible oldest sister Grace would. Grace had been dating the same guy since freshman year in college. For the last year and a half, they’d been seeing each other long distance.
“Very effectively,” she informed us at Christmas, while said boyfriend chatted up our dad.
Ellie and I spent a month repeating that to each other. It got to the point where we just had to make the face, and we’d bust up laughing.
Very effectively dating, thank you very much, and good day to you, sir. Ta-ta, farewell.
All that laughter seemed so far away now.
“I had a weird blip,” I said at last. “No, I’m still having it.”
With her shoe, Ellie bopped me gently on the top of the head. “That’s so descriptive. No wonder you’re a songwriter. Are you going to put that to music later?”
“Ha. Ha.”
Chuckling, Ellie reached for her jar of homemade shellac. It smelled like the devil’s aftershave. It was her secret formula: no one knew what was in it except for Ellie.
“Do you think it’s normal to get crushes on people, even if you’re really happy?”
With a knowing laugh, Ellie went back to her shoes. “Completely normal.”
Though she sounded certain, I wasn’t reassured. “Things are so good with Dave, you know? But I just keep having these weird . . . fantasies, I guess, about another guy.”
“It’s not against the law to think,” she pointed out. Then, sensing that I needed all her attention, she put her shoes aside. Wrapping her arms around me, she squeezed me tight. Her delicate perfume engulfed me.
“No matter how happy you are with somebody, it doesn’t make you blind. You see how Mom gets over Robert Downey Jr., and she’s been married to Dad for thirty years.”
Fair point, but the details bothered me. “Yeah, but there’s no chance she’s going to hook up with him.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference between what you want to do and what you choose to do.”
My mouth actually dropped open. I didn’t know how I’d missed that in all my ruminations, but it was so obvious now. Invisible forces weren’t at work. The universe wasn’t conspiring. Will had made me feel sexy; who wouldn’t fantasize about that? But the feeling should be enough; I didn’t have to act on it.
Dave was love; Will was lust. It felt so obvious now. I felt confident that a switch would flip for me and Dave if only I let it. Maybe prom night, maybe just some wonderful, random Tuesday night—everything would go from sweet to sultry, and I’d have everything I wanted.
Ellie gave me another squeeze. Then she poked at me, leaning around to grin. “Did I just blow your mind?”
Exhaling my relief in a laugh, I nodded. “You did, actually. Thank you.”
~
The Eden’s main stage felt like home.
The boards were uneven, their soundboard fought with our amps, and the lights were blinding. It was paradise. I loved the sting of a hot halogen on the back of my neck, and the way the music seemed to pound into me in waves. Tonight, Dave and I were Dasa, and we owned the club.
Fingers stung on the guitar strings, I smelled someone else’s beer on my mic, and I didn’t care. The crowd surged close to the stage. Most of the time, it was impossible to make out individual faces.
Except tonight, as Dave and I launched into the last song before our encore, I noticed a bright, redheaded gleam, right next to the footlights. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. The impression nagged at me for a verse and a half, until I realized who it was: Tricia Patten.
At first, I felt a pang of irrational fear. She’d found out about me and Will, and she was there to beat me down. Never mind that Tricia was five feet tall and made out of cotton candy.
Then all at once, the whole front row came into focus. It was the whole senior court, Tricia and her best friend, Nedda Coleman. Jake Thompson, center of the varsity baseball team; his girlfriend, Latonya Waite. Arjun Patel, Mason Sedgwick—it was like the entire A-list from Tricia’s party had transferred directly to the live room at the Eden.
Dave realized it the same time I did. With a crooked smile and a nudge, he nodded toward them. The popularity of the crowd wasn’t the impressive part. It was the connectedness. Tricia had paid us a hundred bucks for an hour of music. All these people had seen us there, and now they’d paid to see us again. On purpose. They were alive and bright and excited—they were there for a show.
By the time the final note rang out, my throat was raw and the crowd was roaring. Grabbing my mic, I leaned into it, introducing ourselves the way I always did. Then, I added, “And if you give me two minutes to grab a drink, we’ll be back to take your requests.”
They applauded, and I shrugged broadly at Dave. We didn’t usually take requests at the club, but we didn’t usually have an audience this enthusiastic. From his broad smile, I could tell he obviously didn’t mind.
Peeling off my guitar, I placed it in its stand and bounded down the back steps. They didn’t serve us at the bar, but there was plenty of bottled water in the office fridge. Sweaty and elated, music rang in my ears. I was probably making too much of it, but there was no high like coming off a great show.
Or so I thought.
As I checked my Instagram, someone reached from the shadows and hauled me into an alcove. It was a cool recess where the club stored extra cases of soda and old music equipment. Before I realized it, I was pressed against a concrete wall, and strong, broad hands enveloped mine.
“Tag,” Will murmured, then branded me with a searing kiss. “You’re it.”
Pinning my hands to the wall beside my head, he parted my lips with a teasing tongue. Slick and sensual, he covered me completely with his body. That’s all it took to burn away everything I’d just shared with Dave. One touch. One kiss.
I tightened my fingers in his and surged back. It was just the way I imagined it, like he’d read my mind. The connection was there, I realized, half-savage and hungry for more of him. It wasn’t something I’d created to explain the attraction. It
was
the attraction, a fierce and undeniable pull that left me aching for more of him than I could possibly have.
Shifting, Will pressed his knee between my thighs. It was a subtle movement, but it made me ache. Shameless, I pushed back; if I was going to have to spend the rest of the night throbbing with want, so was he. Will murmured low in surprise, and I swept in for another kiss.
It didn’t matter that we were dangerously in the open. That our significant others were both nearby. That we had nothing else in common. That I didn’t even really know him. Will wasn’t comfortable or predictable or safe, and I liked that. I needed it.
Short of breath, Will broke away and pierced me with his pale blue eyes. “I’ve been trying to get you alone for two weeks. I thought we had an agreement.”
“You’re the one who disappeared,” I said. Jealousy pricked at me. “With your girlfriend.”
Will swayed into me, deliberately. His thigh rasped against mine. “Says the girl eye-fucking her boyfriend out there on stage.”
With that, I kissed him yet again. I wanted to taste how dark he could be, how wrong we could be together. I was glad I wasn’t wearing a skirt, because I’m not sure I would have pushed his hands away if they’d slipped beneath it. My face was hot, but for once it wasn’t with an embarrassed blush. It was with flash heat, and need.
All but panting, I freed my fingers from his. My mouth stung, and so did the rest of my body. I was glad I had to get back to the stage, and fast. One, because the crowd was intoxicating, and two, because I was afraid of what I might do if I were alone with Will much longer. I was reckless under his touch.
Both hands on the concrete wall, he pushed away from me. It was like all the light and heat had suddenly gone out of me. My fingers curled wantonly. I wanted him back; I wanted to grab him back, but he let the cold fill the space between us.
Pink tongue darting at the part of his lips, he looked away. “You better get back before somebody catches us.”
Twisting a bottle of water off one of the cases, I nodded. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t trust myself to speak. My body still trembled, my knees coltish and weak. It was afraid it would be obvious to anybody who looked at me, that I was slick with heat that had nothing to do with the show.
But I had to. I had to get back to Dave. He
would
come looking if I was away too long. Just like Tricia would eventually come looking for Will. Swallowing down the bitterness of that, I took a deep drink of the water and made myself walk.
Breath hot in my throat, I stepped into the hall, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to look back. It was wrong, but it was so good to realize that he was out of breath, too. He looked torn and ravenous, and his eyes burned just for me.
By sheer determination, I managed to ask him, “What do you want from me, Will?”
His voice broke, and his eyes flashed. And he said the one thing I had no defense for. It rang in my head, and haunted me, even as I took the stage again.
Even as I returned to stand beside Dave, Will had said the one thing that guaranteed I would come back to him. When I asked Will Spencer what he wanted from me, he said:
“Everything.”
I wasn’t prepared for just how much that meant.