Double Threat My Bleep (Double Threat Series)

by Julie Prestsater

  “So you do think our love is different too?” he asks.

  “Yes, it’s just weird. I had feelings for Eric. I had strong feelings for Ben. But with you, it’s always been more. We’ve always been connected even when we weren’t a couple. When we were just friends and we were with other people, we were still drawn to each other. Every day since the day I met you, I’ve thought about you. I’ve wanted to talk to you. I’ve loved you.” Turning over on my stomach, and squishing my face into my pillow, I try to convince myself not to say what I’m thinking next. I unbury my head. “And my love for you hasn’t changed and I don’t think it will.”

  Nope, I’m weak.

  I had to tell him.

  A sudden sigh sounds through the phone. Alex is relieved. “Yes.” I can just imagine him pumping his fist, like he just scored a touchdown. “So what now? What can I do to make things better for you? For us?”

  “I have no idea,” I say, pondering what might actually make me feel less like shit about this whole ordeal. “Can you do your partying, like drinking and stuff, when you visit home, and you’re with me?”

  “Are you asking me not to drink when you’re not around?”

  I nod. “It’s a start. Is that doable?”

  “Of course, I don’t care about getting drunk. So done. What else?”

  My stomach gets upset with the next one. “Who knows about this besides Ben?”

  “Ben’s the only one who knows from home. Only one of my roommates knows about it here. Why?”

  I’ve been thinking about this. A lot since I found out about the whole incident. It’s embarrassing. So I tell him, “I don’t want anyone else to know about it. About what you did. I haven’t told Keesha and Stephanie and I don’t plan to. You need to tell Ben to keep quiet. If we have any chance at making this work, no one else can know.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to be honest with your friends. I don’t mind you know. I can take the heat. I can handle Keesh.” I notice he doesn’t say anything about Steph, but I have a feeling he should be worried about her too. She’s easy going and never confrontational with anyone. But with this, I can see Steph wanting to hang Alex from his balls.

  “Yes, I’m sure. If I need someone to talk to, I’ll talk to you, or I’ll call Ben. That should work to your benefit. I don’t need anyone else filling my head with their opinions. This is about you and me.” I know what I’m talking about here. I see it in ASB all the time. If Mr. Mitchell asks a few of us to work on something, we can get it done in no time at all. But when we get a group of ten people trying to accomplish a project, everyone has their own ideas about how it should be done, and we spend forever arguing about it and we don’t complete the task. I don’t need other people telling me how my life should work.

  I can almost hear Alex smile, if that’s possible. “How did you get to be so mature for your age, Megan? You’re amazing.”

  Aha. That just made me think of something else. Our age difference. “Thanks for reminding me,” I tell him. “I’m only a sophomore in high school, and you’re a freshman in college. Do you think this can really work? It didn’t for Erica and Josh, and they live in the same city. I’m much younger. How long can you wait for me to grow into a woman so my dad doesn’t threaten to shoot you?” It sounds stupid, but I think it’s a valid question.

  “Meg. c’mon, I waited like sixteen years to have sex, and then when I did, I wasn’t so sure I was even good at it. Everything was awkward and lasted a whole two minutes. It takes time to get used to someone. I’ve never been with anyone I thought was worth the time or energy to get comfortable with until I met you. So I can wait. It’s no big deal. It will be worth it.” He hesitates. “Don’t get me wrong. When I kiss you, I can’t stop thinking about doing it, but I know that’s not going to happen, not now anyway. So I’m good. Really. Plus, I think your dad is keeping his gun loaded now.”

  I chuckle at this thought. My dad wouldn’t hurt a mosquito that was infested with the West Nile virus.

  “Okay, then we need to make a pact.”

  “A pact?” he says, confused.

  “Yes, I don’t think we should have sex. Well, at least not until you come home from school for the summer.”

  “Okaaaay,” he responds.

  I try to explain. “Things aren’t going to be easy for us, emotionally. Physically, I know we want each other. Badly. But we can’t do it. It will just complicate things. And if we ever do…do it…I want to make sure you’re going to be around for awhile. For a long while.”

  “I get it. So it’s a pact. No matter how things get heated between us, we will both say no.”

  “Deal,” I say, feeling a little better with every minute I hear Alex’s voice.

  “So we’re good then. We’re still together?”

  “Well I would think so, since we are talking about not going all the way.”

  “Aww…I love you Meg.”

  “Don’t get too excited. We have a long way to go. I haven’t forgotten. It’s not like some miracle happened and wiped the whole thing away. Although it would be great if I could wake up tomorrow and realize this is all a bad dream.”

  “Tell me about it. But this is a start,” Alex says.

  “Yes it is.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Time to study for finals is one good thing that comes out of being grounded for three weeks. One can only send so many texts and talk on the phone so much before the whole thing gets irritating. With all the extra time I spend reading and reviewing notes, and agonizing over old quizzes, you’d think I’d feel confident about my final exams, but I don’t.

  Mrs. Centeno’s final set me up for failure. It really did. I get way to cocky after her exam. It was so easy, I thought everything else would be a piece of cake. It was also really short. We spent the first forty-five minutes of the final answering short answer questions, and the rest of the time we sat around and talked. Later on, Keesh commented on how the test wasn’t easy at all. It only seemed that way because we were so well prepared. It makes sense considering the whole thing was written.

  But after my first final, I thought the rest would be that simple. My luck ran out. Why couldn’t Mrs. C be my teacher all day. Math was a disaster. It should be against the laws of high school to have to be in the same class as your ex-boyfriend and your ex-best friend who screwed him while you were dating, and the teacher who makes you sit in between them should be hanged. Enough said. I bet you can guess how well I did.

  Sign language was a little bit better. It’s an introductory course so how much can we be expected to know. I’m confident I passed. ASB—it’s in the bag. English, more writing, but I don’t feel so well-prepared. It’s all in the interpretation. As long as you defend your point of view, who’s to say one person’s opinion is better than someone else’s? I don’t get it. But the most difficult final I’ve ever taken in my life was in World History. Mr. Marino dropped the hammer on us. I’ve never done so much writing in my life. My fingers can’t move. They’re rigid, still in the same position as if I’m still holding a freakin’ pencil. Okay, so I’m exaggerating. But I wasn’t the only one whose hand kept cramping. Most of my classmates were shaking their hands out throughout the entire final. And when the bell rang to signal time was up, only one of us was finished—Keesha. She walked up to the front of the class, placed her final on Mr. Marino’s desk and handed him a candy cane.

  “Merry Christmas, Mr. Marino,” she had told him, and I could see her glowing smile even though her back was turned to me. It will be nice to not have to see her ogle over our teacher for two weeks. Sure, the man is hot but the novelty has worn off for me. He’s just another teacher to me now, but to Keesh, he’s like the rock star you wish you could meet and marry some day.

  So Christmas break. I’m not locked up anymore. I can go out. I can leave the dang house. I can leave the confines of my eight by eight cell. I can hang out with my friends, go to parties, have people over, see my boyfriend. The one who cheated on
me. Omigod. Here I go again. Thinking about it. It just creeps up on me. One minute Alex and I can be having a great conversation, and the next I’m imagining him with his tongue down someone else’s throat. That’s a shitty image to have flashing though your thoughts when you're least expecting it.

  Alex got back into town last night. I haven’t seen him though. Everyone’s coming over tonight. I can finally leave the house, and everyone wants to come over here. Go figure. The plan’s to hang out and watch a movie outside, probably light a fire too.

  “Wooohooo. Christmas break, two weeks off, no homework. Just time to party,” Josh yelps. He and Jon slap hands.

  “Yes,” I screech. “These last three weeks have been the longest three weeks ever.” I glare at Alex. “Double threat my ass,” I gripe.

  Alex laughs, so does Steph. I was being serious.

  “Double threat my ass?” Travis looks confused. “What does that mean?” Yes, Travis is here. Turns out he really didn’t know anything about Amy and Eric. I swear he's one of a few people on campus who didn't watch the whole debacle unfold last year. But he got rid of her as soon as he found out, so we’re all friends with him again.

  Alex pulls me in so that I'm leaning up against him while he hugs me tightly. “My woman here is a double threat.” I look up at him. His brows flutter up and down. His arms always feel like a cozy blanket you've been waiting to snuggle up to all day.

  Jon slaps his hand down on Keesh’s thigh. “So’s my woman.”

  Dom tousles Steph’s hair. “Mine too.” He winks at her.

  “Okay, you said double but there’s three of them.” Travis looks at everyone, squinting in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

  I glance at Alex. “You tell him, babe, you’re the one who started it.”

  “Alright, alright,” Alex agrees. “So these girls here are double threats. Being in ASB practically guarantees you can get away with almost anything. You know, it's like…what are you doing out of class? I'm in ASB. Why are you late? I had to do something for ASB? It says you were truant? I'll take care of it, I was in ASB,” he explains, using his deep authoritative teacher voice.

  Travis nods. “And...” Alex continues, “they’re in honors classes too. People expect them to be geeks, so no one ever suspects them of doing anything wrong. My little girl would never go to a party and get wasted, she’s studying with her friends. My baby would never miss class, there must be a mistake.” He has us all laughing with his mocking shrill motherly tone. After a pause he says, “So that’s what I call a double threat. I guess you could say the Megster and Keesh are triple threats because they’re athletes too.” He leans forward and pecks me on the cheek. It’s such a relief to have him here with me. It’s when I’m alone that I have those nagging thoughts.

  “So why the whole double threat my ass thing then?” Travis asks.

  Jon’s gaze fixes on me. “Good question.”

  “Because…I got caught. I ditched and I got caught. My parents grounded me for three weeks. And I doubt I have good grades anymore. Finals sucked ass. I’ll be lucky if I can pull Bs in everything. Hence, double threat my ass. My secret’s out. I can’t get away with anything now,” I lower my voice, “I’m suspect.”

  My friends look at each other, look at me, and the laughing begins again. Big belly laughs. Jon’s rolling around in his chair, and Dom’s slapping his thigh. Keesh is crying, she’s laughing so hard. Steph is wheezing. Travis still looks confused, like he’s an outsider on this inside joke.

  “Really. Was it that funny?” I question, not sure if I want to laugh too or if I’m offended.

  One. Two. Swing out. One. Two. Swing out. I keep going through the steps in my brain as we head out to the OC for Swing Night at some club for all ages. Now that Erica gave Josh the boot because he’s not old enough to hit the club scene with her, he’s been determined to find a place for us to go dancing. Other than school dances. I’ve been telling him it’s not a big deal, that he should just get over it, but it’s like he’s obsessed.

  After staying up way too late watching movies On Demand, Josh came across a really old movie called Swingers and forced us all to watch it on my garage door. He’s in love with this movie. The guys really like it. If they quote another line from that film, or call each other baby one more time though, I’m going to hurt someone. The characters don’t call each other dude, or hey man, or brother—no no, they call each other baby. And I mean, they say it like every five seconds. Even Alex and Ben can’t resist jumping on the baby bandwagon. Seriously, we should make a drinking game out of it. Like every time someone says baby in the movie, you have to drink. We’d be trashed in the first twenty minutes, but at least it wouldn’t be so annoying.

  It’s kind of funny though to see Jon Favreau and Vince Vaughn in their younger days. I still can’t believe it’s them. I hope I age like Heather Graham though, she still looks exactly the same.

  So now Josh has convinced us to all learn how to swing dance so we can go to this club. It’s hardly the type of place that’s going to make Erica run back to him begging for forgiveness. It’s clear it’s not even a club club, it’s like an old veteran’s center or something.

  “Where the hell did you bring us Josh?” Keesh asks, as we all spill out of Dom’s van.

  “This is too funny,” I hear Ben say as the rest of the gang empties his van. Thankfully they both have big families or we’d never be able to go places together, that aren’t in walking distance. I didn’t think Ben and Ness would even come. We don’t see much of them anymore. But since I’ve needed him with the whole Alex thing, he’s been around a lot more, offering an ear to listen. And…he really liked that dumb movie. Ugh.

  “Hey, baby,” Alex says, punching Josh in the arm. “This looks like a happenin’ place. You got those bear claws ready?” he teases him. Great. Here we go.

  “Alright alright…let’s just go in and check it out,” Josh says, trying to shake off the jabs thrown his way.

  Steph walks ahead. “I’m going. I didn’t just spend the last couple days on YouTube trying to learn how to dance this stuff for nothing,” she calls back.

  “I’m with you,” I say, following her. One. Two. Swing out. One. Two. Swing out.

  “And I didn’t wear this dress for nothing,” Keesh chimes in, spinning around with her dress flaring out.

  “I hope you wore some clean chones, babe,” Jon yells after her, slapping hands with Josh.

  “Oh, I did, and this is about as close as you’re ever gonna get to seeing them, Jon Jon, if you don’t shut up.” She spins again, and some of the boys whistle, while the others clown on poor Jon Jon. I swear he just spews out the first thing that comes to mind.

  Inside the hall, it’s surprisingly cool. A band is on stage playing real instruments, like trumpets, trombones, saxophones, and other horns I don’t know the names of. I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s so different than the bands we listen to with just drums, bass, and a keyboard. And they’re really singing—no digital effects that make their voices sound good. Just pure raw talent. I catch myself with a big cheesy smile spread over my face. I look at my friends, and they’re as dorky looking as I feel right now.

  “Let’s find a table and sit,” Steph says. “And then we can watch for a little bit.”

  “Good idea,” Dom agrees. “We should probably just get a vibe of what it’s like.” Steph leads the way and we find ourselves sitting at a long table, with enough seats for the ten of us.

  Many of the girls are dressed like Keesh. She always knows what to wear, and tonight isn’t any different. Her black dress will swing just right when she dances. It’s kind of sexy too. Low cut in the front and fitted to her waistline. Me? Not so much. Black pants, ballet flats, slinky white tee, and a red cardigan will have to do. Besides, I can barely pick out a dress for school dances, much less stuff like this. Steph is in jeans and a sweater, and Vanessa is wearing a little dress. And by little, I mean a dress with very little material. I doubt Ben is goi
ng to be flipping and twirling her around. Whatever floats her boat, I guess. Old fashioned, my ass.

  The guys look nice in black Dickies or jeans, button down shirts. Some, including Josh, are sporting hats. They remind me of something my dad would wear. I have to thank Alex later for not trying too hard and wearing one too. Since he has hair now, I love the messy look he’s going for. I also like being able to put my fingers through it. I can’t believe I used to be in lust with his buzz cut.

  The dance floor is fairly crowded but somehow all the dancers manage to avoid bumping one another. Some couples are way fancy doing lots of complicated turns. If Alex and I try that we might look something like a pretzel, or it could end in injury. Simple. We will keep it simple. One. Two. Swing out. Repeat. And repeat again, I say in my head. We won’t be the only amateurs. There are a lot of couples out there dancing just like I have been imagining we will.

  Ben nudges Alex. “We’ll go if you go.”

  Alex raises a brow at me. “Why not.” May as well try. We’re here right.

  The music is so different than hip hop. I like it. The sound of the horns penetrate my mind and make me smile. It’s such a happy feeling listening to the melodies. I love the saxophone, all powerful and smooth. The trumpets and trombones are less cool looking and the guys playing the instruments don’t make it look sexy like the sax guy does. The energy of swing just bursts through me even though I don’t know what I’m doing.

  Alex holds my hands, and one, two, swing out. Lean to the left, lean to the right, and then swing out and open. How fun. I like it. We repeat this multiple times before Alex gains confidence and spins me. Whew. We actually landed on the right beat to swing out again. Omigod. This is so cool. I think we’re getting the hang of it.

  The song starts to slow down when the dude holding this humongous violin thing between his legs plays a solo. Note to self: Google these instruments and figure out what they’re called. And finally our first swing dances comes to an end with a final blow of the trumpet. This music just makes me feel alive. We all stand facing the band and clap until the next song begins, which is a good thing because I really need to catch my breath.