by Hughes, Maya
If someone had told me three weeks ago Nix Russo’s arms would be wrapped around me and I wouldn’t be looking for a way to nut-punch him, I’d have said they were crazy, but I wasn’t looking for my opening to knee him in the groin. I wasn’t trying to push him away. Instead, I was holding him close, not wanting him to let me go.
The thing I’d been fighting between us had evaporated with that kiss as a barrage of Nerf darts flew overhead. Now, I wanted more of those leave-me-breathless-and-forget-my-name kisses, and that scared the crap out of me. I didn’t have much time for that fear to creep in.
In a breath, Nix had my back pressed against the door, his arms braced on either side of my head, his gaze dropping from my eyes to my lips. My body hummed with his closeness, electric pulses pounding at each point of contact.
“You left before the food was ready.” Had his voice dropped an octave? It was like chocolate syrup being poured all over me.
“We already ate.” My voice came out breathy and barely a whisper. “You’re still hungry?” My throat was tight, and I swallowed past the fist-sized lump in my throat.
His gaze dropped to my lips. “I didn’t get to say good night.” Was his head getting closer or was mine?
His eyes were mesmerizing. The flecks of gold mixed in with a blue that reminded me of a sunny day on a camping trip. A whiff of him went straight to my head. He smelled like comfort food on a rainy afternoon and his own manly scent.
A minty coolness caressed my lips at his exhale. Had he popped a mint before coming after me? I wanted to taste his thin-mint lips.
I lifted my hand to the back of his neck and bridged the gap between us. The kiss was like being in free fall, and my eyes snapped open. No, we were in actual free fall.
Nix’s eyes widened and he rolled us, breaking most of my fall with his body. We hit the floor with a thud and rattled the house. I was totally chalking that up to Nix and not the extra brownies I’d stolen from Jules’ latest batch.
I can only attribute the maneuver to Nix’s insane athletic ability.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were out there.” Jules yelped and covered her mouth with her hands. A purple envelope was pressed against her face.
“No worries, Jules.” I grunted and rubbed the throbbing spot on my hip. “Nix, are you okay?”
He nodded, running his hand over his shoulder. “I’ve taken worse hits than that.”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Jules blurted out. “Do you need ice or something? Or a mini chocolate raspberry torte? Chocolate makes everything better.” She gave him a strained smile and looked three seconds away from bursting into tears.
Nix’s head jerked up and his eyebrows scrunched down.
I pushed up off the floor and offered my hand to him. “We’re fine. Seriously, no big deal. Not like I haven’t taken a spill like that from the loose boards out there anyway. Where were you going?”
He chuckled and took my hand. My help probably assisted him a total of five percent, but at least I’d offered.
“Nowhere.” Her gaze shot down to the purple envelope in her hand, which she snapped behind her back.
“Sure.” I drew that word out to let her know secrets would be divulged or I’d have to break out the big guns, namely tequila. “In that case, we’ll take you up on those tortes. We were actually going to head back to Nix’s place. The guys made some food. You should come—if that’s okay with you.” I swung my head around to Nix. Here I was inviting people he didn’t even know over to his house.
“Any friend of Elle’s is a friend of mine, especially if they’re bringing chocolate anything. Do you have enough?”
“I always make extra. There’s plenty. If not those, I’ve also got chocolate chunk cookies, blondies, and old-fashioned sour cream donuts.”
“Jesus, are you running a bakery out of this place?”
The tips of Jules’ ears turned bright red. “I stress bake, and I’ve been a little stressed lately.” She stared down at her sneakers, touching the toes of them together.
“Jules also makes a lot of desserts for Grace’s when she can, so she tends to bake a lot.”
“Your place is just filled with do-gooders. That’s awesome, Jules. I’m sure any of it will be delicious, so bring anything you can spare and the guys will lap it up.”
“I could send them over with you. I mean, I don’t have to go. You don’t have to invite me just for the desserts.”
“Jules, stop. You’re coming, and you’re not getting out of this. It’s all I can do to get her off the pole for a night…” I thumbed my finger at her.
Nix’s eyes widened.
The scarlet creep from her ears blazed down to her cheeks. “She doesn’t mean some dude’s dick—not that you thought that, but that’s not it. I’m not some super skank riding ten guys into the sunset every night. I pole dance.” Now the fire engine red spread down her neck to her chest. “Not pole dancing as in stripping, but pole fitness. It’s how I work out. I’m not a stripper.” Jules’ voice rose so high, I was surprised we could still hear it and dogs around the block weren’t howling. “Not that anyone would’ve thought that.” And she was back to shy Jules fascinated by the rainbow stitching of her high-tops.
“You say that, but you’d be an awesome pole dancer. Right, Nix?” I looked over my shoulder at him and saw his deer-in-the-middle-of-an-eight-lane-highway look.
“I feel like that’s a trick question, so I’m going to slowly back out of the room and wait for you ladies on the porch.” He did exactly that and gingerly closed the door behind him.
Jules slapped the heel of her hand into her forehead.
“I think that went well.”
She glared at me over her shoulder with pursed lips. “I hate you. From the bottom of my heart, I hate you.” She sighed. “An envelope came for you.”
Huffing and dragging out all the boxes and trays of what she’d made that week, she set them out on the counter while I lifted the navy envelope from the table. As I ripped through the paper, the gold embossed announcement glinted on the front.
It was officially official: my invitation as a nominee for the Huffington Award.
“What should I bring? Berk liked the donuts at the study session, but I feel like the tortes are better.” She stood in front of her creations like someone had asked her to choose between her children. A triangle of purple poked out of her back pocket.
“And what, my dear, is this?” I slapped the envelope in her back pocket and—well, her ass as I snatched the mysterious item.
“It’s mine.” She jumped up, trying to grab it from my hand.
“I know it’s yours, but what is it?”
“A note.”
“Do I need to open this and read it, or are you going to give me a bit more to work with here?”
“It’s one of the notes and I was going to deliver it.”
“Juicy. I need more details. How many have you written?”
“Thirty or so.”
My mouth hung open. “You two have written thirty letters in four months? You’ve been dropping them off all this time and haven’t clued me in?”
“It was embarrassing. Who’d do something like that? Anyway, I dropped off the second one and there was a note waiting for me. At first, I thought maybe it was them telling me to stay the hell away or stop it, but it wasn’t. It was a reply, so we’ve kind of been trading letters.”
“Oh my god that’s so sweet, like something out of an old black-and-white movie.” I pulled the note out of the envelope before she could stop me and scanned the page. Using my butt to ward her off, I devoured the note filled with positions I’d never heard of and a heaping helping of words you could see someone saying while lying beside you, brushing the hair back from your face, and looking at you like you’re the only person in the world for them—if that even existed in the real world. I rushed around the kitchen evading Jules’ grasp before she gave up on being gentle and tackled me to the floor. “Damn, girl, that
was freaking intense. I take that back—not sweet at all. That was filthy.” I fanned myself, laughing as she tugged it out of my grip and shoved it back into the envelope.
“It’s just something silly.” She shrugged and tucked the envelope into her notebook, which had a few other purple envelopes and folded pieces of paper between the sheets. “They’re not all like that. His replies are actually really sweet.”
“Let me see.” I made grabby hands for them.
“No, those are…private. He’s a lot different than I thought he’d be, but it’s fun.”
“You’re really not going to let me see?”
She shook her head, nearly giving herself whiplash.
“You suck, but if there’s anyone who deserves some fun, it’s you.” I pulled her in for a hug and squeezed her.
“Enough with this mushy crap. Let’s get this over with.” She let go of me and pressed her lips together, scrunching them to one side.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be cool. There’s nothing to worry about.”
16
Elle
Campus was heating up. Summer and graduation were right around the corner, finals breathing down my neck. I wasn’t making the dean’s list this semester, but my craptastic GPA wouldn’t matter if I got the Huffington Award. With a year off to figure things out, I could work my way into a position somewhere with that prestigious feather in my resume’s cap. The Huffington Award wasn’t just an award—it was a mic drop.
Everyone flowed out of the Founders Building and into the quad. Some classes were held out on the grass. There were other people laid out on blankets, studying or pretending to study while just working on their tans. Someone set up a volleyball net and hit the ball over. The grilling society was out at the first hint of summer weather. There wasn’t a better place to grab a $1 burger, but the line was always insane.
“You should teach. You’re so good.”
“Tell that to your forehead.” Jules stared straight ahead in her parka and snow pants. Maybe not full ski patrol, but it was close for an early May day. In my shorts and t-shirt, I felt like I belonged on a nudist beach next to her.
Jules had the maddening habit of always wearing long sleeves and pants no matter what. At the beach? A dark gray boatneck top with long sleeves and black pants. One hundred degrees outside? Long-sleeved black shirt and dark jeans. Surface of the sun? Navy turtleneck and dark gray snow pants. Everything she wore was too dark and had too much fabric.
“It’s not that bad.” Shifting my backpack to my other shoulder, I rubbed the barely there dent in my forehead and walked a little faster. At least the bruising from my fall had changed from an unearthly-looking green and purple to brown. My nose had been spared when I’d failed to execute the Rainbow and kissed the floor hard, so small miracles. There went my pole dancing future.
“It looks like you were trying to grow a unicorn horn out of your forehead.”
“Still that bad, huh?” I poked at the spot.
She tilted her head. “No, now it just looks like you were making out with a guy with a seriously weird idea about erogenous zones. Speaking of which…” She slid closer to me. “How’s Golden Boy?”
“No idea.”
“Not one? So the making out on the porch and late-night phone calls—those are nothing?”
“We’re hanging out.” I shrugged and walked faster.
“And playing kissy face.” She puckered her lips and made smacking sounds.
“We’re not making out. We’re friendly.”
“Should I be expecting my own friendly make-out session then?” She batted her eyelashes at me.
“He’s—” I ran my fingers through my hair. “It’s complicated.” Whenever I was around him, it was like the two sleepy brain cells I had left were shorting out.
“Complicated how many panties you’re going through whenever you’re around him. I’ve seen your laundry basket—sky-freaking-high.” Her laugh carried across the quad. A few people turned around, and she ducked her head.
“That’s because our washing machine has been broken for the past three weeks.”
“Excuses, excuses.” She grinned and waved me off. “I’ve got class in five. I’ll see you back at the house?”
“Later. I got another extension on my paper, so I’ve got to finish it or I’m screwed.”
She ran one finger over the other, walking backward. “Get to it and make sure you’re not daydreaming about Mr. Six-Pack.”
I shook my head and watched her walk off. I’d finalized my Huffington Award submission and turned it in. Now, I just needed to make sure I graduated. Hit the books, buckle down, and study my ass off.
Keeping my head down, I raked my hands through my hair. One second I was headed back to the library, where I’d been studying and definitely not hiding for the past week, and the next I ran into a wall. Well, not an actual wall, but a human that might as well have been a wall.
Hands shot out and grabbed my arms, keeping me from adding another bruise to my body. I’d have known that chest anywhere. His muscles flexed as he took my entire bodyweight until I got my feet back under me. I kept my gaze trained on his chest. That was a much safer place to look.
“With a hit like that, you should try out for the team.” There was a strained lightness in his voice, like he was putting a hell of a lot of work into it.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” I peered up, and all the reasons he terrified me came rushing forward, from the prickling of my skin to the way I wanted to sink into his eyes.
“When you try to run straight through me, I hope that’s why.” He squeezed the back of my neck. “I spotted your hair and called your name.”
I opened my mouth and slammed it shut. We stood there like two performance artists personifying awkwardness.
“Listen—”
“Let—”
We started at the same time and laughed.
“You go first.” He lifted his hand to me.
“No, you go ahead.” I motioned for him to start.
“Are you headed back to your place?”
“Sure.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“If you want.” I shrugged, feeling like I’d just slid a note across my desk with ‘Do you like me? Check yes or no’ on it. The fluttery dance in my stomach made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
“I want.”
The happy dance inside me was complete with confetti, cake, and cannons.
He stepped to my side and rested his hand on the small of my back to navigate us through the masses of students crisscrossing campus.
People called out his name, gave him high fives, and tried to get him to stop, but even with all the distractions, there was never a question that his attention was focused on me. People pulled him over for pictures like he didn’t walk across campus every day, but his gaze always found mine. I didn’t mind the interruptions when he smiled at me over the heads of the people crowded around him to get selfies.
“Doesn’t that get annoying?” I peered over at him.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I was born into it. My dad’s career meant whenever we were out in public, especially in the city, that was all I ever knew. I don’t think we’ve had a meal outside of our house or my gramps’ restaurant that didn’t get interrupted at least once.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s always felt normal to me.”
“The fans are lucky to have you.” With all those people swarmed around me, I’d snap someone’s head off on day three.
He laughed. “This is a winning crowd reaction, but I’ve also seen the other side. Throw one interception and then see what people shout on the streets.”
“Reassurances and hopeful wishes for the future?” I offered.
“Something like that.” He smiled at me, and it felt like I was looking down from the crest of a rollercoaster. Excitement and nervousness bubbled inside me.
“Your dad’s excited for you to follow in his footsteps?”
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“More like unable to contain himself with finally having me go pro. He’s been planning this since I was ten.” His voice had a hollowness that didn’t come with achieving a dream 99.99% of people couldn’t even fathom touching, a sadness that didn’t match his words.
I reached out, hesitating and biting my lip before taking his hand. He tightened his hold and looked at me with a level of uncertainty and vulnerability I’d never seen before. He was letting me in, letting me see a side of him I didn’t think many people got to see, and I was there for him. I wanted to be there for him and to never let him go, a thought that rocked me to my core.
17
Nix
She slipped her hand into mine. “Why don’t you sound as excited about that as most people would assume?” Her words were as careful as a tiptoe in the middle of the night.
I stared at her, and it took everything in me not to haul her into my arms and kiss the crap out of her.
We stood at the end of our street.
“Do you want to go for a ride or something? Get some air?” She hadn’t let go of my hand, and I didn’t want whatever it was we were doing right now to end.
“Sure, let’s go.”
I pulled out into the light midafternoon traffic and followed Elle’s directions, trying to figure out which shelter, soup kitchen, build project, or other volunteer activity she was taking me to. Instead, we stopped inside the parking garage under a stone and marble building I hadn’t been to in years.
We went up in the elevator, and the smell reminded me of packed lunches, parent chaperones, and school bus excitement. She tugged me forward and got our wristbands under the constellation mockup overhead in the Franklin Institute.
“It’s probably been fifteen years since I came here.” I looked around the middle school and high school field trip staple and felt like I was a kid again. The Franklin Institute was a Philly mainstay. Exhibits moved in and out, but the replica of a heart, the skyline bike, and the electricity room had been around forever.
