by Brent, Cora
“Ben.” My breath stops when I see the expression on his face. It’s rage and it’s grief and it’s heartbreak. It wasn’t born in this moment. It comes from somewhere else entirely. And while I could never be afraid of Ben I’m suddenly afraid for him.
“Ben, let’s go. Please.”
He hears me. And he nods.
Ben grabs Frankie around the waist and hauls him up. I’m not worried the McGills will follow. One glance behind me reveals that they’re both having trouble even sitting up.
Frankie is unsteady on his feet but after a few steps he insists on walking without help. Ben moves to my side and curls an arm around my shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
I look up into his face. The agonized expression he wore a moment ago is gone. “Yes. Are you?”
His lips tilt into a grin and I see the Ben I know.
My Ben.
The boy who makes me laugh and gets me excited and often leaves me exasperated.
The boy I want.
I hug him around the waist. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Camden, I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I texted you earlier. I guess you saw it already.”
“No. I forgot my phone at home.”
“Where have you been all day? You weren’t at school.”
He sighs. “I went for a walk.”
“What do you mean?”
“Camden.” Frankie gets my attention to let me know we’re in front of our house. He’s limping and he’s holding his stomach like it hurts. Plus there’s going to be a hell of a nasty bruise on his jaw. But he’s in one piece. And so am I.
“Thanks, man,” he says to Ben and offers his hand for a fist bump. Then he swallows and looks at the ground. “I don’t want Mom to see me like this.”
“We’ll get you inside and cleaned up. We’ll think of something to tell her.”
He nods and takes a few tactful steps away, obviously wishing to give us some privacy.
I hug Ben and lay my cheek against his warm chest. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know.” He strokes my hair. “So do I. Need to be at work.”
“Thank you, Ben.”
“See you at the bus stop tomorrow?”
I look up at him and wrinkle my nose. “No.”
“No?”
“This was the last day of school before break. There’s no school tomorrow or the day after that and so on for two and a half weeks.”
“Right.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “Something tells me you’re in the habit of waking up early all the time.”
“True. I like to get things done.”
“In that case can I take you to breakfast tomorrow morning?”
No other question in the history of questions has ever made me this happy. “I would love that.”
“Then it’s a date.” He cups my chin in his palm and I’m anticipating a kiss but he just stares into my eyes. “Eight o’clock?”
“I’ll be ready.”
“And I’ll be here.”
We stare at each other, mere inches apart. It dawns on me that I don’t need to just stand around and wait to be kissed. I lean in and brush my lips across his with the gentlest touch.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Beltran.”
He releases me and winks. “You’ll be seeing me a lot more than that, Galway.”
Ben
I hesitate to ring the doorbell because it’s early and for all I know everyone else in the house is sleeping. This mood is new to me, this sense of happiness when greeting a new day because I know I’ll be spending it with a girl I’m wild about.
And I like it.
Earlier my mother was preoccupied with getting ready for work and only nodded when I said goodbye. It wouldn’t surprise me if she never again wants to talk about yesterday. She has a longtime habit of locking painful events into an internal vault and refusing to discuss them.
The front door of Camden’s house is a vibrant blue and includes a tarnished brass door knocker in the shape of a G. I reach for it and hardly get the first knock in when the door opens.
Camden looks beautiful. Well, she’s always beautiful, even when she’s not trying. Her hair is down with a simple part in the middle and she wears a fuzzy pink sweater atop dark jeans that mold to her shape. I feel instantly summoned to put my hands everywhere.
But I find my manners before my hands find her ass and I smile. “Good morning, gorgeous.”
She flushes and tucks her hair behind one ear. Compliments still catch her off guard. That just makes me want to give her more of them.
“Hi.” She glances behind her and then steps back from the door. “Come in.”
Camden’s house is a real home, full of family photos and well worn furnishings and mismatched accent pieces that probably have sentimental value. There’s a pleasant pine woods smell radiating from the squat Christmas tree, which is covered in bright balls, light strings and handmade ornaments. There’s also a woman seated in the middle of the sofa and she’s wearing a terrycloth robe in the same bright blue color as the front door. Right away I can see her resemblance to Frankie. Around her head is a turban-style wrap patterned with bright tropical flowers and I know she wears it because of what her cancer treatments have done to her. But nothing has stolen her luminous smile.
“Ben.” Camden takes my hand. “I want you to meet my mom.”
“Hello, Ben. Please call me Adela.” Her voice contains a distinct Spanish accent. “I am glad to meet you.”
“You already know Frankie,” Camden says and now I see her brother is quietly hovering in the doorway. He acknowledges me with a nod.
Adela is thoughtful as she regards me. “Camden’s father had to leave for work already. He would have liked to meet you too.”
It occurs to me that I’ve never done this before, been presented to a girl’s family as if I’m a person of importance. It’s actually a little nerve wracking.
I put in a sincere effort to come across as upstanding as possible. These are the people who are most important to Camden. Adela is pleased that I’m also a BMA student and that I have a job at Dee’s. We don’t talk for very long because she suddenly sinks against the couch cushions and winces.
Camden darts to her side. “I’ll help you get back to bed.”
Adela must be too tired to argue. She smiles at me once more and then allows her daughter to help her down the hall. She’s petite and only reaches Camden’s shoulder.
With the two of them gone, Frankie and I are left behind to awkwardly stare at one another.
“Doesn’t look bad today.” I gesture to his jaw, which looked pretty swollen after the battle with the McGills and now only appears faintly bruised.
His fingertips gently touch the lower part of his face. “Cam made me sit still with ice on it for an hour. Told my mom I just took an elbow to the chin in wrestling practice.” His hand falls away and his mouth sets in a grim line. “They would have hurt her. I couldn’t stop them. And if you hadn’t showed up…”
“But I did.” I say this but at the same time I have to swallow the surge of bile in my throat over the terrifying thought of the McGills getting to Camden. I don’t know what I would have done to them if they really had hurt her. That thought kind of scares me too.
Frankie is eyeing me. “Look, I’ll always be grateful that you put the McGills down. But Camden’s my family and I’ve got to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“You really do like her, right Ben?”
He’s just a kid but he’s looking me over and sizing me up the way a man would. I don’t blame him. If I had a sister I’d be doing the same thing to any guy who came around.
“I like her more than I’ve ever liked any girl.”
He’s pleased but then remembers something and his brow creases. “It’s just that I’ve heard stuff about you.”
“You know what they say. Don’t believe everything you hear. A
nd if I ever treat your sister with anything less than complete respect then you can beat the shit out of me.”
He snorts with laughter. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Camden returns and she’s pulling on her coat while telling Frankie that their mother is watching television in her bedroom.
“Call me if you need anything,” she says.
Frankie waves a hand. “Go on. We’re fine here.”
I know how to be a complete gentleman when the occasion demands it. I open the front door for Camden and I wait until we can’t be seen from her house before I pull her to my chest and slip my hands under her jacket. She presses her body close and meets my mouth with eagerness. When my hand finds the hem of her sweater and snakes under it to touch bare skin I realize I’m in danger of getting too worked up.
I meant what I said to Frankie. I respect Camden to the moon and back. It’s just that I also want to strip her naked and make her come in fifteen different filthy ways.
But right now I have to set those ideas aside because I promised her breakfast.
She suggests Imogen’s but my mom is working today and I’d rather not have an audience. So instead we choose a little place called Famous Egg where you can usually find a line of bleary eyed truckers inhaling cups of coffee at the counter. We feel lucky to score one of the few tables.
“Order anything you want,” I urge. “I’m paying and don’t argue.”
She smiles at the menu. “I won’t argue. But you might be sorry. I have a big appetite.”
I can think of a few obscene comebacks to that last line but I don’t say them because for once I’m really trying to be boyfriend material. Instead I tell her about my solitary hike in the wilderness yesterday, omitting some key details about what was on my mind. Our food arrives while I’m telling her about dispatching Dirtbag and how I wish my mother would have enough confidence in herself to expect better from men.
“Are you close?” she asks. “You and your mom?”
“Not really. There’s too much we just don’t talk about.”
“I remember the day she came in to Dee’s to talk to you. Anyone could see in her face how much she loves you.”
“That’s because I’m all she’s got.”
Camden pauses in the middle of slicing through her pancakes. She’s waiting for me to elaborate and I can’t.
“And your dad’s dead, isn’t he?”
I try to remember if I told her that. I don’t think I did.
She sets her fork down. “I think those of us who have lost a parent recognize the same pain in other people.”
“Yes, my father is dead.” I don’t know if I’ve ever said those exact words out loud.
Camden frowns down at her plate. “And you can’t tell me more than that.”
“No.”
She forgets about her pancakes and stares at me for a long moment. She’s so beautiful. I want to lose myself in her.
“Can you tell me something else, Ben?”
“Like what?”
“Anything that’s true.”
I pause and then drop a bombshell. “I’ve never had sex.”
She sits back in her chair, mouth twisting into a smirk. “Get real.”
“Camden, I’ve lied about all kinds of things. I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I’m no angel for sure and I’ve done some dirty shit. But good old fashioned sex? Nope, never done it.”
Her smirk changes to shock. “My god, you’re serious.”
“Very.”
She’s at a loss. “Ben.”
The waitress picks an unfortunate moment to stop by and ask us if we need anything else.
Camden is inspecting me so intently it’s like she’s trying to read a map on my forehead. But she waits until the waitress is gone before saying another word. “You’ve had plenty of chances. I know you have. I hear the way girls talk about you. They must throw themselves at you all the time.”
“Not gonna argue about that.”
“And you’ve never had sex with any of them?”
“Not in the technical sense. No.”
“Why?”
“Hey, like I said, I’m not exactly a monk. But I guess when the time comes to cross that bridge it just feels too….”
I search for the right word.
Camden waits.
I figure out what I’m trying to say.
“It just feels too close.”
She lets that sink in. “And you don’t let people get too close, do you?”
“Not regularly.”
Not at all.
Her hand touches mine. She’s an angel in that pink sweater. I’d pull her into my lap and bury my face in her soft hair if it wouldn’t draw stares and probably some catcalls from the truckers at the counter.
“Ben, I’m really sorry that I ever misjudged you.”
“I gave you good reason. I got in the habit of acting like a dick around you.”
“Yeah, you were a dick sometimes.”
“I know. Making you mad was entertaining.”
She laughs. “What made you change your mind?”
“When I realized that making you smile is a lot more valuable than pissing you off.”
Camden threads her fingers through mine. Even holding hands with her gets my heart going. It’s enough to rouse a confession.
“Camden, I want us to be close.”
She swallows and she’s blushing now but she doesn’t let go of my hand. She understands. After a deep breath she raises her eyes and says, “I want that too.”
It’s a heated moment, infinitely more prized than a hundred furtive hand jobs. It’s a moment worth waiting for.
I choose my words carefully because the last thing I want to do is push her into doing more than she’s ready for. “There’s no one around at my house today.”
She sucks in her lower lip and considers the idea. “I haven’t seen your house yet.”
“Would you like to?”
She squeezes my hand. “Yes.”
After I leave the waitress a generous tip we have a mile long walk while the sky decides to start dropping more snow on our heads. And even though I feel like kind of a loser for failing to own a car, Camden doesn’t seem to mind walking in the snow at all. She holds onto my arm and admires the random Christmas decorations scattered around our homely little town. All the time I keep staring at her and wondering why it is that every guy in school isn’t falling all over himself to make her his. It’s something I shouldn’t question. I should just enjoy my luck that I’m the one she chose.
“The place needs some work,” I explain as I unlock the front door to the modest two bedroom box I go home to every day. “Landlord lives in Black Mountain and keeps saying he’ll get to it. My mom wants to hold his feet to the fire but I tell her it’s just as well because he might decide to raise the rent.”
I know I can say these things to her, things I would never say to anyone at Black Mountain. Our shoes are wet and slushy from the snow so we kick them off at the front door. She shivers as she looks around the kitchen and sheds her coat.
“The reason why you work at Dee’s so much is to help pay the bills, isn’t it?”
“Afraid so. The insurance office on Cardinal Street where my mom used to work closed last summer. That’s why she took a job at Imogen’s. Doesn’t pay as much, so yeah, she needs a big chunk of my paycheck to make it. Not sure what I’m going to do when baseball season starts. Coach isn’t going to understand if I can’t be at practice every day. My scholarship is tied to baseball.”
I throw my own jacket on the nearest chair and notice Camden has her arms folded across her chest, still shivering. Snowflakes have melted in her hair and the dampness makes it curl slightly. Earlier I was thinking that she looked like an angel. I still think so. She’s my angel.
Camden is still looking around as she follows me to the living room and I wonder if she’s surprised that my house is unlike hers. There aren’t any family photos on coffee tables or sentiment
al knickknacks.
“You don’t have a Christmas tree?”
“Just didn’t get around to it this year.” I grab a throw blanket from the couch. It’s a dull army green color but it’s lined and it’s warm. I drape it around her shoulders and the gesture pleases her. She smiles and holds the blanket open, inviting me closer. I circle my arms around her waist and deliberately press into her. I’m hard and I want her to know it.
“Are you still cold?” I push my fingers into the back pockets of her jeans.
Her breath hitches and she moves her hands up to my shoulders. “A little. You must be cold too. You kept your jacket open on the walk. Your sweatshirt is wet.”
“You’re right. Maybe I should take it off.”
She fights a smile. “That’s probably best.”
In order to follow through I have to get my hands out of her pants, which is a shame because they were enjoying their situation. In a classic move I reach behind my head and pull off the hoodie. Her eyes go right to my chest and she sighs. The sweatshirt gets tossed somewhere unimportant and Camden drops the blanket in favor of exploring my chest. She’s clearly fascinated, her fingertips studying my muscles, and I’m glad for every brutal minute of work I’ve put in at the gym.
Her lips touch the hollow of my throat and I groan out loud. The pressure in my pants is reaching emergency status and I grit my teeth to keep from seizing her too roughly.
“Are you still cold?” she whispers, leaving a trail of kisses on my neck.
My hands go underneath her sweater, traveling over soft, bare skin until I find the outline of her bra strap. My palms roll to the front and cup her tits through her bra. They are a perfect handful and I’ve been dreaming about them, about what I’ll do when I get them in my hands and in my mouth. I have every intention of bringing those dreams to life in the very near future.
“A little.” I knead her tits in my hands as I say this and she’s dissolving, closing her eyes with a soft moan while grinding her hips into me. If I push a hand down there I’m sure I can get her to come standing up in the living room and it’s a hot idea but it’s not enough. “You want to know something?”
