by Daisy Allen
"Is everything okay, Iz?"
"Yeah." I say, an octave above my normal tone. "Sure, why?"
"Nothing." He gets up gathering his things. "Just that, if you feel uncomfortable working on this project, we can always pull out. I hate to, it's not a good look pulling out of a charity gig, but, hey, we can just write them a big check. It's all these organizations are looking for anyway. Money, money, money."
He shrugs and leaves, closing my office door behind him. I wonder how much of what he said is true.
If they would rather have me, or a big check in my place.
I don't know about the company, but I know what Xavier would say.
***
12 Years Ago
It's been over a week since the incident at Dairy Joy with Xavier and Jack, and even though I've shown up at the basketball court every day and left notes on the wall telling him when I'd be there next, he hasn't been there once.
I can't help replaying the look on his face when Jack taunted him about his mother and their home situation. The cracks in his pride showing in those green eyes of his, burning his cheeks red as he tried to push it down. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to yell out that none of those things mattered to me, that it didn't change how I saw him, felt about him.
But I know, I know him enough to know, that he needed time to regroup, to mend his pride, to heal the wounds he'd endured at the ridicule of his peers.
But he's had enough time and I'm going to tell him so.
I go to the one place I know he'll be.
I haven't been back there since the first time he brought me, but I still remember the route, where the gap is in the bushes through to the trail that leads to the lake. To him.
I arrive, backpack heavy on my shoulders, breath held already anticipating the view.
It doesn't disappoint. It's late in the day and the sun is already lagging in the sky. The light reflects off the ripples in a way that makes me instantly sleepy, causing my eyelids to feel heavy, lowering to shield from the glare.
It's breathtaking.
I step to the left and see his tent, and two feet poking out from the flaps.
I wander over and drop to my knees, peering in. He's lying on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, textbook lying on his chest. His chest that is rising and falling with deep breaths. Asleep.
I slide the backpack off and quietly, gently crawl into the tent, laying my body next to his, careful not to disturb his slumber.
The sun must've made him a victim of its sleep spell as well, and he doesn't stir. I watch him breathe, in and out, in and out for a few cycles, before I lie back, and let the sound of the water washing up against the lake edge and the birds singing their last songs of the day lull me into a nap.
***
"AHHHH!" I yell, and jump up, my head coming into instant contact with another one, making us both yell out in pain.
"Ow!" I moan, rubbing my forehead. In the dying light, I can just make out Xavier doing the same, scowling at me.
"What are you going here?" he growls, reaching over and flicking a switch on the lamp, casting a warm yellow light over us and the inside of the tent.
"I came to see you, you boob!" I snap, the dull pain in my head only starting to recede from our impromptu headbutt.
"Why?" he snaps, sitting up and staring at me.
"'Why? Because I haven't seen you in over a week, you double boob!"
"So?" The scowl is deeply embedded on his reddening forehead. I have zero sympathy for him.
"Really? We're back to monosyllabic Xavier? I thought we were over that." I get up on my knees and move to crawl out of the tent.
"Where...?" he stops short.
I look at him over my shoulder. "What?" I snap back, his tone making mine defensive in response.
"Are you leaving?"
I rock back on my heels, staring at him. "Do you want me to?"
There’s a tensing of his jaw, then his shoulders fall and he sighs. "No."
"Good, because I'm not. I was just grabbing my backpack." I poke a tongue out at him and he squirms.
I come back into the tent and sit in the spot he’s cleared for me. "I came to see you because I haven't seen you for a week, and I decided it's time you stopped sulking."
"I wasn't,” he sulks.
I bite back and laugh. "Yes, you were. And I get it, you were embarrassed because of what that twatwaffle said, even though you have no reason to be. So, get over it." I lock eyes with him, not giving him a chance to look away, so he can see how serious I am.
He stares back this time and I see something, something defiant in his eyes, that he lets flash and then simmer and fade away. It’s a concession I feel like he’s making just for me. And no one else in the world. I take advantage of it.
"Hey, grab that blanket and lay it out," I say, while he's distracted by his own thoughts. He does as I say and I unpack the containers from my backpack. Some bread and cold cuts. A fruit salad. Some bags of chips. A container of my special mac and cheese.
"What's this?" he asks when I’m done sorting out the spread.
"It's a picnic. You eat it," I say and grab a piece of bread and make myself a sandwich as he watches. I take a giant bite and chew it, then open my mouth, teasing him with my masticated food.
He shakes his head and then laughs. "So much for the elegant dancer."
"This elegant dancer is taking a one meal break from her diet. So, watch out. Now shush and try my mac and cheese, I put a special ingredient in it."
He follows suit and we eat in silence for a moment before he finally breaks it.
"How did you know I was going to be here?"
"Well, you weren't at the basketball court, and you don't work at the Dairy Joy any more. I don't know where you live. So I took a chance."
He just nods and crunches on a piece of watermelon.
"I'm sorry... about what happened at the ice cream place. I didn't want you to see that."
"Which part? The guys being a jerk to you or you taking their bait and fighting with them."
"All of it, I guess."
"Don't worry about it. I'm just sorry Mikey didn't get to take his sundae home."
"We, er, it's tight for us. At home, money wise. It's just my mom. She works a lot."
I nod, understanding how hard it is for him to be sharing this with me right now. So, I won't interrupt, not until he's said everything he wants to.
"My dad hasn't been around for... well, since the twins had just turned two. And it's not like we were swimming in it then. So, I've been working as much as I can to help out. They were good to me at the ice cream store. Hired me when I had no experience or references. Gave me as much work as I wanted. Even some times when I know they didn’t need it. Understood when I had to take off to take care of the boys when my Mom worked. She's... had it really tough."
He stops talking and takes a big bite of his sandwich and I take the chance to ask a question while the gates might be open.
"What are you reading all the time? Whenever we're at the basketball court, or in quiet times at work?" I point to the upturned book he cast to the side, probably pre-headbutt.
He reaches for it and shows me. It's a law textbook.
"You want to be a lawyer?"
He nods. "Yeah, always."
"Why?"
He thinks for a moment, and I love that about him. How everything he says is measured, considered.
"It think because my life is so messy and there's so much order to law. Almost every aspect of our lives has something that is covered by a rule. But even then, it's so open to interpretation. You can manipulate it. Chaos in order."
"Rather than order in chaos," I say, and he looks at me as if I've spoken exactly what he's thinking.
"That's what dancing is. And art. It can be so chaotic, there aren’t rules, there shouldn’t be. But dance is about the exact right movement, angle, shape at the right time. And the order of those movements. Dancers spend a lifetime trying to perfect a
pirouette, the technical aspect of it, but there is still so much open to interpretation. I think, I think that's why I've been enjoying working on my mural so much. It’s all me. And... you. It wouldn't exist without you. Thank you."
He doesn't say anything, just stares out the opening of the tent, watching the pink and orange of the sunset darken into night.
"I can't tell if we're two sides of the same coin, or the same side of different coins,” he murmurs.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we're so different, but the same."
"I don't care. As long as I can be tails on the coin." I say.
"You do have a nice tail." I look at him, and he's grinning. The seriousness of the moment before broken.
"I didn't think you'd noticed."
"Oh, I've noticed... a little too much."
"Well, I've noticed that you have a handsome head," I reply and he takes a deep breath, his eyes on me. I want to be closer to him. As close as I can be. I inch forward, our hands touch on the blanket between us.
The smile fades from his face and it's all seriousness again.
"Malynda. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
I shake my head.
"Beautiful. Stunning. Perfection."
"Even my freckles?"
A flash of a smile dances over his lips. "You mean, these little dots where you've been kissed by the sun?" He lifts a hand and runs a thumb over the tip of my nose and over the side of my left cheek.
A shiver creeps up my spine, thrilling. Something I've never felt before. "Yes, especially those."
"What else?" I ask, wanting to hear more.
His hand slides down to my neck. "You have the most elegant neck. Like a swan. Long, lithe, alluring." He moves closer, I can barely hear him now.
But I can see him.
His face an inch away from mine.
I didn't realize until this very moment that I've been waiting this whole time, my whole life, to kiss him.
"Kiss me, Xavier," I whisper.
And he sucks in the air I breathe out.
His mouth lowers to mine and my lips are touching his.
Everything about it feels right, I push forward, wanting to feel him harder against my mouth, more. I just want more.
He pulls away, and I almost fall into the space between us.
"Malynda," he says, and it scares me the way he says it. Like it might be the last time.
"Yes?"
"I can't offer you anything. I don't have anything. It's why I haven't... I want you to know, I know you deserve more."
I lean forward, my head against his chest, listening to his racing heart beat for a moment, before I look up at him.
"You have the one thing no one else can offer me,” I confess.
"And you have the only thing I could ever want," he replies.
We take a breath and in unison we whisper, "You."
Nine
Him
I don't know who moves first but once we break the dam, there's no stopping.
My mouth is on hers and hers is on mine. My hands are tangled in her hair, her fingers digging into my shoulders, like we’re trying to grab handfuls of each other to devour.
I’m hard, instantly hard. I’ve been holding back my want for her for so long that I’m not sure how long I can hold on, at just the thought that I may soon have her.
She moans against my mouth, and my brain short circuits at the thought that it’s from me touching her. She lies back on the blanket and pulls me on top of her, her legs wrapping around my hips like they’ve always belonged there.
It takes everything not to thrust against her. It’s not time yet, through two layers of clothing. I hardly want her memory of this being me dry humping her. I pull back, rocking back onto my heels, taking in the sight of her laid out in front of me, her blonde wavy hair wild, like Medusa’s, her lips already full and red from my kisses.
“So beautiful,” I whisper to myself rather than to her, but the smile she gives me makes my heart skip a beat. Does she really not know how beautiful she is?
She reaches for me and I lower myself back down to her, my lips finding the smoothness of her neck, and I run my tongue along its length. Her skin smells just like I thought it would. Sweet and natural, like dewy flower petals, like sunshine.
“Ohhh,” a groan escapes my lips as I feel her hand reached between us and brushes over my hardness. My whole body stiffens as I swallow. “Sweetheart…”
“Shhh… I want it. I want you, Xavier,” she says, the words that undo me.
My hand gropes at the side of her thigh, pulling her skirt up to bunch at her hips. She wriggles under me, her legs falling wider apart. I tilt to the side, my fingers reaching along her inner thigh, up higher and higher, until they graze along the hem of her panties.
I take a breath and push them aside. And finally come skin to skin with the sweetest part of her.
She’s soft, warm, wet.
She wants me.
Almost as much as I want her.
I tease a finger, following the wetness, and the tip of my finger slides inside her. She squeezes around it, and I feel my hardness twitch.
I can’t wait much longer.
But I need to know that she’s ready. As ready as I am right now. As ready as I’ve been waiting my whole life to be.
It suddenly occurs me to ask, and I’m almost afraid of the answer. I kiss her gently, brushing a hair from her face.
“Sweetheart. Is this okay?”
“You’re my first, Xavier,” she says with a tremble.
And I respond with the gift that she’s given me.
“You’re my first, too, Malynda,” I confess and she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down to kissing me deep, hard.
“I’m ready. I didn’t know it, but I was waiting for you.”
I kiss my way down her body until my face is level with her hips, I gently ease her panties down her legs, breathing her in. Her sweet, salty scent.
I can’t wait any longer.
I free myself from my pants and ease myself between her legs.
Running my fingertips along her inner thighs, I position myself against her. She bites her lip and nods, giving me the cue. I hold my breath as I push forward, feeling myself slide into her slowly, inch by inch, until there’s nothing left of me.
Her brow furrows for a moment as she takes a sharp breath, and I press my lips against the patch of skin just below her ear.
"Are you ok?" I whisper and she mouths the word “yes.” I kiss her gently, as my hips pull back, and I feel every inch of her tighten around me.
Is this heaven?
I ease myself back in and she exhales with me. I do it again; this time her eyes lock on mine and I can't look away. Locked with her, as I slide in and out of her. In and out. Gasping for breath as I feel myself rising and falling both at once.
"Oh, Malynda," I moan, and she closes her eyes for a moment, her head falling back.
I reach between her legs, feeling for the spot I know she must be wanting me to.
"Fuck.” The curse falls from her lips when I reach it.
I need to move fast. I want her to come along with me every second of this journey.
My fingers rub in circles over her most sensitive spot as I thrust harder and faster against her. I'm only moments away. Her breath grows as fast as mine, the flush travelling up her neck reaching her cheeks.
"I have wanted you for so long," I gasp, and her hands come up to dig into my forearms.
I slide into her one more time and feel myself explode. My finger doesn't stop on her and she starts to buck under me. I feel her squeeze around me and I know she's coming with me.
I forget where I am for a moment, just that my whole body is releasing. And she is doing the same.
I take sharp, shallow breaths and my arms buckle under me and I fall onto her.
She catches me, her lips on my forehead as I struggle for consciousness.
"I love you, Malyn
da," I tell her when my lungs permit. She just sighs and holds me until I forget that there was a time before her.
The goosebumps on her arm cast little shadows on her skin, when we both wake up a few hours later. I wrap her tight in the blanket and she just sighs, letting out little giggles against my chest that tickle.
"What's so funny?" I finally ask her.
"Nothing."
"Then why are you giggling?" I poke her gently in the side and she yelps before scrunching her face up at me.
"It's what people do when they're happy."
I make a noise that doesn’t sound quite right.
"What was that?"
"That was my attempt at a giggle!” I say defensively.
That makes her laugh outright, so hard it shakes the sides of the tent, and not for the first time I wonder how long we could exist in this space alone.
She reads my mind, and slowly sits up. "I have to go home, it's already past my curfew."
I nod, reaching for a jacket. We crawl out of the tent and walk hand in hand out to Main Street, the moon smiling down at us.
We don't say anything for the twenty minutes it takes to reach her street. I just try to burn the feel of my fingers intertwined with hers into my skin, something to remember when they'll be empty tonight, but with the memory of her in my mind.
We stop outside of a white house, its lawns perfectly cut, two cars in the driveway.
"This is me," she says, turning to me. I pull her into me, memorizing her scent. Her arms come up under my jacket to hug me back. "Basketball court tomorrow? After school?"
I nod to her; she needn’t have asked.
"Xavier?” she asks, her voice so quiet, I can barely hear her. I pull away to look into her eyes. “You really were my first."
I lean in to press a kiss against the tip of her nose. "And, Malynda, you will be my last."
I watch until she's inside the house and the silhouette waving to me from an upstairs bedroom fades into the night.
***
The two weeks after we make love for the first (and first of many) time, is pretty much the definition of idyllic. Every moment we have free is spent together, either at the basketball courts where she works on her mural and I sit and pretend to read while I watch her and wonder when we can next be alone at the lake.
