by Shay Savage
“Yes.”
“Matthew, that is…remarkable. Do you realize how significant that is for Megan?”
I frowned and shook my head.
“She not only recognized the connection between you and Mayra, but she took the next step, realizing your relationship could lead to a more permanent situation. Beyond that, she showed concern for you—concern that you might have misunderstood some of the traditions behind that next step—and tried to make sure you knew what you were supposed to give a prospective bride.”
I shrugged, not really getting why it was so important.
“Matthew, Megan was correcting you,” Dr. Harris said. “She was acting like a big sister to you.”
I let the thought swim around in my head for a bit and realized Megan really hadn’t ever done or said anything like that before. Even when we were young, I usually did things to help her, not the other way around. Sometimes she would say things that indicated a lot more awareness than what normally came out of her mouth, but those occasions were very few and far between. What she had said to me earlier didn’t just indicate awareness; it was unlike anything she had ever said to me before.
“Does that mean the medicine is working for her?” I asked.
“It’s too early to say,” she told me. “I would consider it a good sign, though.”
I nodded and stared underneath the desk again, wondering what similar medication might do for me if I could afford it. Dr. Harris asked me a few more questions about Mayra and me, but I wasn’t really paying attention any longer. The wrapper lying under the desk was making my fingers twitch.
I couldn’t take it anymore, so I reached down underneath the desk and grabbed the little piece of plastic. It was from one of those peppermints that usually came from restaurants. I flattened it out against my leg and then puffed it up so it looked like it still had a mint in it. Mints were sweet, and I liked the kind with chocolate around them, which made me think of chocolate cake.
“Dr. Harris?” I asked nervously.
“Yes, Matthew?”
“Don’t tell Bethany,” I begged, “but I like Mayra’s cakes better.”
Dr. Harris’s smile widened, and she nodded twice.
“I am sworn to secrecy,” she vowed.
I couldn’t argue with a doctor’s vow, so I accepted her promise.
It was dark by the time we got to the car, and I was exhausted. After we slid into the back seat, Mayra reached over and took my hand in hers. Even though I knew Bethany and Travis could see us, I adjusted my seatbelt and lay down with my head in her lap. As soon as I felt her fingers in my hair, I closed my eyes and drifted.
I could hear soft voices that seemed to come from all around me and nowhere in particular.
“Thanks for the warning, Travis. That was a little…freaky.”
“They get in their own little world, that’s for sure.”
“It scared the hell out of me the first time I saw them like that.” Bethany’s voice was soft. “It was like everyone else around them disappeared. Were they talking to each other?”
Gentle fingers stroked through my hair, and I sighed.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Travis chuckled quietly. “Tiffany always said they had their own language inside their heads, but Kyle thought they just enjoyed not having to interact with anyone.”
“Matthew doesn’t really talk about his parents very much,” Mayra said. “He doesn’t say much about Megan, either.”
“It’s still hard for him,” Bethany said. “He feels so needlessly guilty about where Megan is now, and his father was the only one who could ever really convince him otherwise once he got something in his head.”
“My brother was great at that. He always knew what to say to the kid to get him to rethink something. I’ve tried, but he just doesn’t trust me as much.”
“You have been amazing for him.” I could hear Beth shifting in her seat. “I don’t know what you’re doing—”
A short laugh came from Travis, and Mayra’s fingers paused for a moment before resuming their trek around my scalp.
“Well…whatever it is, I’m not going to argue. It’s working.”
“He means a lot to me.” The soft, whispered words were combined with a stroke of warm fingers over my cheek. It was enough to send me into further, quieter darkness.
Win.
Chapter 15—Dive Straight In
“Will you consider it? You have three weeks to prepare, and I’ll help any way I can.”
I squeezed my palms together to try to stop the shaking. The movement seemed to transfer to my leg, which started bouncing up and down instead. My head filled up with all kinds of imagery I wasn’t prepared to handle, so I jumped up and ran downstairs.
The gloves felt good on my hands as my fists connected with the heavy bag repeatedly.
Mayra wanted to go to a graduation party at Hueston Woods, right by the lake. It was over three weeks away, and almost everyone in our graduating class was going to be there, sans one Justin Lords, who had pled guilty to assault and possession charges and would be attending his sentencing hearing instead of wearing a weird, square cap.
Mayra wanted me to go with her.
I had already decided there was no way I was going to attend the graduation ceremony and sit there in the middle of a bunch of other kids, waiting to walk across a stage that probably couldn’t hold the people who were standing on it. There was no way I was going to do that while everyone looked at me and waited for me to trip on the stairs or just freak out when it was my turn to shake the principal’s hand. There was just no way. My grades would already be in, and my diploma would already be secured. I didn’t have to attend the ceremony, and I wasn’t going to put myself through all that.
All of Mayra’s friends from the soccer team were going to be at this party.
It was going to be her last time to really hang out with them, which she hadn’t done much of since she started dating me.
I didn’t want to be the one to hold her back.
I didn’t want to go.
People weren’t treating me quite like they were after that fateful night Uptown, which I considered a blessing, but a lot of them still tried to strike up conversations, and I just didn’t know what to do or say. They would ask about my fighting experience or just questions about various homework assignments—it didn’t matter. It still came down to the same thing: I couldn’t cope with all the attention.
But Mayra was different.
She was popular, accepted, and liked by almost everyone.
I was holding her back.
My fist slammed low on the heavy bag. Then I spun around and landed blow after blow with my feet.
There was something incredibly selfish inside of me that just wanted her all to myself. I wanted to take her away and hide her with me, and me alone, so I wouldn’t have to share her with anyone. I had absolutely no desire to go out for both the first and last time with a bunch of people I would likely never see again. I’d never been to a party, and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t even want to know what to expect.
It wasn’t right to make Mayra stay with me when she should be having fun with her friends, but I knew she wouldn’t go without me. What about when we went to college, and she wanted to go out and meet people, and I didn’t? Was I going to hold her back then, too? What about after college graduation? Would I keep her from getting a great job because I didn’t want to move to wherever she got an offer?
I couldn’t do that to her.
My arms ached, but I kept punching.
Mayra was one of the most important people in my life. I never thought I would have the kind of relationship I had with her, and if I did anything to fuck it up, it was unlikely I would ever find something like this again. Even if I did find someone as patient and willing as Mayra, it wouldn’t be her. No one else would ever touch me the way she had.
With panting breaths, I stepped off the mat and made my way back upstairs. Mayra was in the kitc
hen, stirring something that smelled like vegetables and spices in a big pot.
I silently watched her for a long moment. I didn’t think she realized I was back upstairs as she continued to cook and rock her shoulders a little to a song in her head. Knowing how much I didn’t like to be startled by people behind me, I moved slowly into her field of vision and leaned against the counter.
Mayra looked up at my face and then down to my bare chest. She raised her eyebrows slightly before she looked back to the pot.
“I used up all the potatoes you had in the pantry,” she said.
“I’ll put them on my shopping list.” I pulled open the junk drawer and grabbed a pen.
For a second, my gaze caught the Ziploc bag with the lottery ticket in it. I’d done a pretty good job of forgetting about it, but now I couldn’t stop thoughts of it from swirling around in my head.
No one had claimed the winning ticket yet. I didn’t know what the winning numbers were, and I didn’t know what numbers were on the ticket. If I looked at one set of numbers, I’d have to compare it to the other. If they matched, I’d be forced to act on it.
If the ticket was the winner, I’d have more money than I would ever know what to do with. I could buy a bigger house for Travis and Bethany. I could get Megan private care. I’d have to hire an accountant and a lawyer. People would constantly ask if they could have some of the money. They’d come up with good reasons, and I wouldn’t know if I could believe them or not. If I said no, they might be angry with me. I might even need a bodyguard.
The skin on the back of my neck warmed and my stomach cramped up. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force the thoughts from my head. This was why I couldn’t even look at the ticket. The idea of making such crucial decisions was just too overwhelming. I couldn’t even make a decision about attending a get-together with people from my graduating class.
“Matthew? Are you okay?”
I swallowed hard and quickly closed the drawer.
“I’ll go to the party,” I said quietly.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “You’ve gone a little pale.”
“I’m sure.” I watched as her smile took over Mayra’s face. She dropped the spoon in the pot and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”
~oOo~
For the next three weeks, I tried not to think about the party.
Normally, I would do the opposite. I would try to imagine what something new would be like, how it would look, or what it would feel like to be in a new place, but this was different. Every time I even tried to think about going to a party, I’d start to panic, and I didn’t want Mayra to realize I was getting upset and call it off.
So I just tried to forget about it.
Mayra was really excited and kept talking on the phone to various people on her soccer team and in our class about what time to be there, what everyone was wearing, and who had decided to go to Aimee Schultz’s parent-chaperoned party instead.
The best way to not think about it was to make out with Mayra on the couch, which we did a lot, usually shirtless, though Mayra always left her bra on. Still, it was warm skin-on-skin and added a lot to the experience.
The second best way was to read a set of books that mysteriously appeared on my desk about two weeks before school let out. Bethany had been over earlier to make me dinner, and when she left, they were there next to my computer—books about women and sex.
It wasn’t the same shit they taught you in health class—that was for sure.
With a week left before we graduated, Mayra was on her back, and I was on top of her with my shirt off. Mayra was wearing a white, short-sleeved, button-down blouse with most of the buttons undone.
“Should I take this off?” Mayra groaned against my mouth. I felt her hand move to her collar.
“Mmm…I got it,” I replied. I pushed at the sleeve over her right shoulder while I trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck. As I reached her throat, I opened my eyes to find and poke her birthmark. That’s when I realized I had pushed not only her shirtsleeve down but her bra strap as well.
I froze for a minute, looking at her completely bare shoulder where there was usually a little thin strap of white or blue or beige. Without thinking, my fingers traced over her skin and down the imaginary line where her strap was normally located. I watched my index finger as I tapped the fish-shaped birthmark then moved a little farther down to the top of her breast.
Swallowing involuntarily, I peeked back up at her bare shoulder and then her face, my eyes questioning. Mayra licked her lips quickly then raised herself up a little and reached around her back. A moment later, her bra went slack—revealing just a little more of her breasts to me.
My gaze moved from her eyes to her nearly-showing nipples about six times before Mayra nodded at me.
“Go ahead,” she said quietly.
I quickly moistened my lips and tried not to think too much about excerpts from those books. I couldn’t help it though—there were phrases about how nipples were a direct line to a woman’s clitoris. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I froze up again.
“Do you want me to take it off,” Mayra asked, “or do you want to stop?”
“I don’t want to stop,” I whispered.
“Shall I?” She grasped her shirtsleeve and bra strap, bringing them further down. I could only nod in response.
A moment later, she was topless. I was still on top of her, and I was about to combust.
My breathing was too quick, and I was starting to get a little lightheaded. Well, it might have been from breathing too fast. It also might have been just the reaction to seeing her like that—breasts exposed, lying on her back underneath me—and what it did to my body.
Jeans kind of sucked, really.
A warm shiver covered my skin as I looked down at her. It was a strange, almost animalistic feeling and completely foreign to me. I wanted my hands all over her—pressed up against her skin and feeling her heat on me. There was a need deep inside my stomach to see more—to get more. It was raw and desperate and needy.
I wanted her.
Now.
“Mayra?” I had no idea why I was whispering—it’s not like there was anyone else in the house. “Do you, um…maybe want to go upstairs…I mean…to my room?”
“Your room?”
“Yeah.” I tried to shrug it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but I wasn’t the least bit convincing, and she wasn’t going to buy it anyway. Mayra had never been inside my room, and other than in her car, all our make-out sessions had been on the couch. “It might be more comfortable than the couch.”
“Let’s go,” Mayra said. She raised her eyebrow at me, and I moved off her to let her up. She picked up her clothes, took my hand, and we walked up the stairs to my room.
Mayra tossed her shirt and bra off to the side as she sat on my bed. She reached out, took my hands, and then pulled me to the bed with her as she lay down on her back. I tried to steady myself with my hands but couldn’t touch her if I did that. I ended up balancing on one as I tentatively ran my other hand up her side.
I wanted to kiss her, and I wanted to cup both of her breasts in my hands. I wanted my fingers and hands and palms all over her bare skin. I also wanted to kiss her breasts, tongue them, suck on her nipples, and maybe even refer to them as “tits.”
I didn’t know what to do first.
Thankfully, I had Mayra, who grabbed both my hands and just put them over her chest. I lost my balance and fell to the side, but I really couldn’t have cared less at that point.
“Fuck,” I muttered. My eyes stayed on my hands, which were now totally concealing her breasts from my view. I was completely torn—I wanted to keep touching them, but I also wanted to see them at the same time.
They were just so soft!
I ran my thumbs over the tops of them and then moved my hands lower so I could see and touch and squeeze them at the same time. Her nipples cons
tricted and seemed to stand up, just like the book said they would!
My thumbs circled the darker spots in the middle of her breasts, and they puckered under my touch. I glanced up at Mayra to find her smiling.
“Do you like that?” I asked.
She nodded emphatically.
“Can I…kiss them?”
She nodded again, and I quickly ran my tongue over my lips before repositioning myself a little lower on the bed to get a better angle. I could definitely see and reach them better that way. I tilted my head a bit and quickly kissed each nipple.
My eyes darted to Mayra’s, and I found her gaze dark and wanting. Her chest rose with her breaths, and I kept my eyes on her for a moment before ducking back down and taking one of her nipples all the way into my mouth.
I ran my tongue over it and heard her groan. Looking up quickly, I saw her head tilted back, her eyes closed, and her mouth slightly open. Her fingers gripped my shoulders—encouraging me further.
I moved to the other side, first kissing and then sucking gently on her flesh. The taste was a lot like the taste of her tongue with just a touch of salt. I gripped her nipple with my lips and teased the end with the tip of my tongue.
“Holy shit!” Mayra cried out.
I raised my head in alarm but knew immediately she wasn’t at all upset. She grabbed my face in her hands and pulled my mouth to hers. My breathing had become rather ragged, and it almost seemed like a struggle to kiss her, breathe, fondle, and actually keep my autonomic nervous system regulating my heartbeat all at the same time. It was all too much—and it was all fucking fantastic.
I kissed down her chin and her neck, smiling to myself as she arched her back when I moved farther down. I kissed the top of each mound and then took one of her nipples in my mouth again. I sucked a little harder and heard her moan my name.
“Oh…God…Matthew…”
She moved her hands from my shoulders to the back of my head, gripping my hair in her fingers and holding me to her. I took the hint and sucked hard again. She shuddered, and I moved quickly to the other nipple. I didn’t want it to get lonely.
I kissed all around it and then used my tongue to circle it. I kissed in larger, concentric circles until I was licking and sucking all around the outside. I kissed between her breasts before sliding down a little farther to kiss her stomach, which made her giggle.
