by Fox, Cathryn
“My grandmother, actually.”
She stands, and smiles. “Really?”
“Look at this one,” I say and tug out Casablanca. “I think this was the one that started it all. To be honest, I’m not sure if it was the movies I loved, or the one-on-one time I spent with Gram. I was the only grandson, and I’ll admit it, I was sort of the favorite. Everyone loved me.”
She laughs and punches me in the arm. “What an ego.” As soon as the word ego slips from her mouth, her skin pinkens, clearly thinking of the private conversation we all overheard.
I quickly come to her rescue, considering we’ve moved past her observation that my ego was as big as my cock. Well, that was more Peyton’s statement, but still. “Want to watch?”
“Actually, I do, but we have homework.” She scrunches up her nose and points to her backpack.
I frown and I’m about to shove it back in its spot when her arm touches mine. “How about this. We study and once I’m convinced you understand Mark Twain, we can watch.”
“Deal.”
I set the movie aside and drop to my bed. Underneath the comforter there are no sheets. They’re in the washer, washing off the blood. Ella takes her place at my desk, and opens her laptop. “Okay, let’s start with studying why Mark Twain is important for all generations.”
“Well,” I begin and recall what I learned in class. “He was a timeless author, and a cultural icon.”
She nods and absently coils her hair around her finger and I wish she’d stop. It makes concentrating harder.
“He was definitely those things, can you tell me why?”
I frown. “Maybe I am all brawn, after all.”
“Stop, you are not. We all have our different strengths, Landon. Literature isn’t yours, and football isn’t mine. I’m not all that fond of math either.”
“I’m pretty good in math.”
“Then if I start to fail, you can tutor me.”
“Deal,” I agree.
“Wait, why did you wait until your last year to take English?”
“I didn’t. I studied Shakespeare last year.” I groan, flip to my back, and put a pillow over my face.
“Why are you torturing yourself with more English Lit again if you already have your writing credits?”
I drop the pillow. “I don’t know,” I say quickly, and don’t meet her eyes. “I guess I’m a glutton for punishment, a masochist.” We already shared enough secrets tonight. No need to open up anymore. We’re not a couple or anything and she might laugh if I told her I wanted to write a screenplay someday, considering how horrible I am in English. “What were you saying about Twain?”
She eyes me, smart enough to know I’m redirecting and I’m grateful when she doesn’t push. She glances back at her screen. “Let me tell you why Mark Twain’s stories are important for all generations.” She points to my backpack. “Get your computer and start making notes.” I do as she says and for the next hour instead of taking notes, I simply listen. Ella has a way of explaining things and making them interesting. She tells me how Huck Finn taught young Americans right from wrong, and the importance of country and friendship. I sit there and take it all in, and I love how passionate she is about the subject. I learn that his book challenged the ideals of the nineteenth century American South. It’s fascinating really, and has me wanting to read the book again, to see it from a different perspective. She tells me how it challenged racism, taking anti-racism and anti-slavery stances, why the book was banned and why it never should have been.
When she finally stops talking, I get up and leave the room, and can feel her curious eyes drilling into my back. I come back with a glass of water for her and she gives me a grateful smile.
“Thanks.” She takes a big drink. “I was parched.”
“I figured. You’re the girl who likes to be behind the scenes. I bet you can’t even remember the last time you talked so much.”
She nods and cocks her head, real concern on her face. “Did you understand all that?”
“Yeah, and I’m going to read the book again.” Her sweet smile lights up the room.
“Really?”
“I’d start right now, but we have a movie to watch.” I wave the Casablanca case toward her.
She nods eagerly and shifts in her chair to face my big-ass wall-mounted TV.
“Do you want to…” I pat the bed. “It’s a bit more comfortable, I think.”
“Yeah, sure,” she answers tentatively, just as my phone pings. I ignore it, but whoever is trying to get ahold of me is pretty damn persistent.
“Go ahead and answer,” she says. “I’ll cue the movie, and I’m going to need popcorn, and soda if you have it.”
“I have it.”
“Your mother allows soda now, does she?” she teases with a sly grin.
“She doesn’t know,” I say, and Ella laughs out loud.
“I’m guessing there are a lot of things she doesn’t know and likely never needs to,” she says with a soft laugh that slides over my body as I check my phone to find a message from Ivy.
Shit.
I stare at the phone, my blood draining to my toes. How the hell do I handle this? I glance up and find Ella looking at me, and a jolt of guilt grips my gut.
“Ivy?” she asks, and casually brushes her hair from her face.
“Yeah.” I put the phone face down on the nightstand.
She points to the door. “If you two are hooking up, I could go—”
“No.” I tap the bed.
“Just for the record,” she begins and fusses with something in her bag. “You two are a cute couple.”
Shit is this her way of saying there can never be anything between us? That I should go ahead and ‘hook up’ with her sister, because hooking up with her isn’t an option? Wait, didn’t I just say, after what happened in that auditorium, I could never be with Ella now? Why the hell am I still holding out hope? I can’t. I just fucking can’t. Everything about this situation is wrong.
Except what I feel inside.
“Since you look like her, are you saying we’d be a cute couple too?” I ask.
“You know what I mean,” she grumbles with an eye roll so hard it nearly gives me a headache. “You two just make sense.” She glances at my phone again. “Are you going to get that. She doesn’t like to be ignored.”
“Come sit. I want to watch the movie with you. That was our plan.” She hesitates for a second and I add. “I’ll be three minutes making popcorn, so don’t go anywhere.” I jump from the bed, and she sinks down, adjusting the pillow behind her. But fuck, seeing her on my bed and not being able to put my hands on her is going to be torturous.
I hurry downstairs, make the popcorn and grab two sodas. When I step back into my room, Ella is on my bed, surfing through her phone, a very serious look on her face. My stomach clenches.
“Everything okay?” I ask and stand in the doorway.
Her head lifts and when she presents me with a smile, I nearly abandon all rational thought, toss the popcorn away and jump on her. “Everything is fine,” she says, her words smacking sense into me and I shake my head to clear the lust. Her gaze drops to take in my bare feet as I stand at the threshold. “What, waiting for an invitation? You a vampire or something?”
“Or something,” I tease, and step into my room, the knot relaxing in my stomach.
“Mmm, smells good.” She taps the bed. “We better get this movie going. I have more homework tonight.”
In three big strides, I’m across the room and I plunk down beside her, putting the bowl between us, partly so we can share and partly because that way I can’t get too close. Who knows what I might try? Asshole that I am.
She hits play on the remote and puts her hand in the bowl at the same time I do. Her gaze darts to mine and for the briefest of seconds, our fingers touch, linger. She blinks, pulls her hand back and stuffs a bunch of popcorn into her mouth, like she’s totally unaffected, and the truth is I’m not so sure she is. Or
maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I shove a handful of popcorn into my face and lean back as the movie starts. But it’s hard to concentrate with so much sexual tension taking up space between us. Am I the only one feeling this?
I glance at her, and she’s engrossed in the movie, like I’m not even in the room. I guess I am the only one affected and maybe I should go ahead and take her advice and hook up with Ivy. Ella’s clearly not interested. That still feels like a douche move, though.
“This part.” She sits up a little straighter and her hand lands on my arm. “Ohmigod, Landon, it’s my favorite.”
I smile at the enthusiasm in her voice. “Mine too. Looks like we do have a lot in common,” I say, and she gives me a small smile as she takes her hand back. Soon enough we’re chatting, talking about our favorite scenes, making comments on settings and design and the filming, and even the controversy behind the film and the rights. It’s fascinating to see her point of view as a cinematography student, and the way she breaks it down as a cinematic performance.
“It’s a shame it never did play on Broadway,” she says with a sigh.
“Hard to believe it was filmed on a set in Hollywood.” She nods in agreement and we both settle in to watch the end. About ten minutes before the movie is over, the door downstairs opens and closes with a bang, and Ella nearly jumps from the bed.
“That’s just Brady. He was having dinner with his dad tonight. It doesn’t always end well.”
Her brows furrow for a second. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear that.” A brief pause and then, she says, “Do you think he’s okay?” She averts her gaze for a second, and glances at the door. Worry lingers in her eyes when she focuses back in on me. Her nose crinkles, drawing my attention to those cute freckles of hers. “I should go.” I’m about to reach for her, tell her to stay, when Brady comes busting in.
“I need a drink,” he grumbles, then stops dead in his tracks when he sees us. “Shit, sorry, man.” He tugs on his hair. “I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”
“It’s okay,” Ella says, scrambling off the bed. “I have to get going anyway. I still have some studying to do, and I want to get to bed early tonight.”
“I’ll walk you back,” I say and jump from the bed.
“No, it’s okay. It’s just a few blocks away.” She shoves her computer into her backpack, and puts her phone into the front bib pocket of her overalls.
“Then if it’s just a few houses over, I’ll walk you.”
She’s about to protest, and I hold my hands up. “My mother is a minister and I have four sisters. If I didn’t walk you and they found out.” I stop to do a cutting motion across my neck.
I glance at Brady. “Meet you at the Growler?” He nods. My best bud needs to talk, but I’m guessing he wants me to explain first. I see the questions in his eyes as his gaze goes from Ella to me.
I shake my head to let him know it was nothing. “English,” is all I say and he nods, but he knows me well enough to know there is more going on—at least on my part. Ella makes it perfectly clear we’re only going to be friends, and I can’t disagree with that.
I follow Ella down to the front foyer, and reach around her to pull the door open. My body brushes hers and I’m almost certain she just sucked in a tight breath.
Probably your imagination, dude.
We tug on our shoes, and the night is warm as we step outside, and she goes quiet as we follow the sidewalk from my place to hers, a comfortable quiet around us, except for the cars speeding by and the group of girls giggling on the other side of the street.
“I’m sorry Coach blackmailed you into tutoring me,” I tell her, just to break the silence.
She laughs. “It was either that or lose the gig taping the games and my class credit, and there is a camera with my name on it patiently waiting for me to scrape up the dollars.”
“Tell me about the camera.”
Her eyes go big and I can’t help but smile as she swings her arms, completely animated as she talks about some fancy-ass camera. After a few minutes, she practically stops walking. “Ohmigod, I’m boring you aren’t I?”
“Not at all. I love hearing about it.”
“Liar,” she says, and touches my arm. “But about the tutoring, Landon. It’s not a hardship. I feel like I shouldn’t even be paid for it, because I like that I am able to teach in a way you understand.”
“Do I detect a bit of ego?” I tease and give her a little bump, only problem is, she was about to take a step and I totally knocked her off balance.
“Whoa,” she shouts and tumbles right into a line of bushes.
“Ella, I’m sorry, are you okay?” I squat down next to her, and she groans. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride,” she says.
I go to my knees, and look her over. My God, seeing her like this, the light of the moon spilling over her body, fucks me over in so many ways. Her plump lips call out to me, and when she wets them, I nearly lose all ability to focus. I lean in and stop when she speaks.
“I’m going to be pulling thorns from my backside for a week.”
“Let me help you up.”
“Go slow, please,” I give her a little tug and she yelps as we both try to stand. “Wait, stop. Every time you tug, there’s a branch that tries to molest me.”
Unable to help myself, I laugh, and she laughs with me. “I’m so sorry, Ella. This is my fault.”
“Damn straight it is.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“You could start by removing that branch from between my legs. I can’t get around it.”
I shift my stance, and carefully lift one of her legs to move it around the gnarled branch, and slide my hand up her inner thigh, and try not to remember last night, the way her scent and heat curled around me as I take hold of the branch and snap it. The crack fills the silence around us.
“I think I got it.” I reach for her hand again. “On the count of three, I’ll pull you up.”
We count together and I tug on her hands until we’re both standing. I take one look at her and now that I know she’s okay, I feel a measure of relief. It’s hard to hide the smirk when I see twigs and leaves in her hair.
I pull out a leaf. “Do you need me to do a thorn check?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll get Peyton to do it, and there had better not be any bugs in my hair.” She hops around a bit, and I can’t help but laugh.
“What the hell is going on here?”
We both still when we hear Ivy’s voice, and I turn to find her staring at us, and that’s when I realize the group of girls across the street are all staring, and some have their phones out. Jesus, they had better not put that up on social media. Ella wouldn’t like that. She prefers to be behind the camera, and so help me if they make her the laughingstock, I’ll kill them.
“Landon, what are you doing, and Ella, why are you making a fool of yourself?”
“She wasn’t—” I begin.
“Liam said you were tutoring Landon tonight. I didn’t realize you were putting on a show for him too.”
“I’m not, I’m just…” Her words fall off as a beetle or some other bug falls from her overalls, and she bends like she’s checking to see if it’s okay.
“She fell,” I explain. “I was helping her up.”
Suddenly everything about Ivy softens. “Ella, are you okay?”
She stands. “I am, thanks.”
Ivy looks her sister over and begins to brush the debris off her clothes. “You’re a mess. You need to get home and clean up.”
“I was just on my way, and I fell.”
“So clumsy.” Ivy laughs like she’s remembering something. “Even as a child you were tripping over your own feet.”
Ella stands there staring at her sister, confusion in her eyes. Is Ivy making that up about her tripping over her own feet? “I…uh…better get home,” Ella says and glances at her place.
I reach for her. “I’ll walk you the res
t of the way.”
“Landon, she lives right there,” Ivy blurts out, and Ella quickly nods in agreement.
“It’s fine.”
I shake my head. “No, I think I should—”
“I’m a big girl. I can get home by myself.” Ivy gives her sister a big smile, and Ella returns it.
I know she lives right there, still… “But I—”
“Landon, come on,” Ivy tugs me. “Everyone is headed to the Growler.” She turns on the charm, and goes coy as she rubs herself against me. “And you know you owe me, after the fun we had in the theater.”
Ella backs up, shrinking into herself. It’s something I’ve seen her do before in Ivy’s presence. I glance across the street and the girls who were capturing the fiasco are now gone.
I try to shake Ivy off of me. “Just give me a second, Ivy.”
“Nope, it’s all good.” Ella backs up even more, putting both physical and emotional distance between us. “He’s all yours, sis.”
“Of course, he is,” Ivy says and puts her arm through mine. I stand there, watching her walk away, until she’s safely inside her place, shutting herself in, and me out.
11
Ella
I close the front door tight, and lean my shoulder against it for a moment. My heart pounds in my chest and stupid, stupid tears press against my eyes. Why the hell am I suddenly so emotional? I must be getting my period, because no way could I be crying over Landon. I already came to the conclusion that we can only be friends, but after tonight, the tutoring, the movie, the shared popcorn on the bed, not to mention my side trip to the bushes…I don’t know. All those things somehow brought us closer, created a bond.
Or maybe that’s just in my imagination. Maybe he doesn’t feel a damn thing for me.
I take a breath to pull myself together and push off the door. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I walk down the hall to the kitchen. The place is spotless. It was Peyton’s turn to clean, and she does a way better job than I do. I drop my bag onto the table and pour a glass of water. Walking down the hall, I glance in Peyton’s room but she’s not there. She has a shift at the Growler tonight. I guess she’ll understand my mood this morning once she sees Landon and Ivy together. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I tug it out, happy it wasn’t damaged in my fall. Speaking of Peyton.
