Blake bows his head low trying to hide his smile.
When the front door slams shut behind them, Ben and I look at each other at the same time and start cracking up. It feels good to laugh like this. To let all of the air whoosh out of my lungs, and feel the pang from it in my abdominal muscles.
Eyes lit up and still grinning, Ben asks me, “What do you feel like doing today?”
It doesn’t matter. I’m happy for the first time in awhile—eager for the feeling of this bright sunshine that’s pouring over the two of us.
“I don’t care,” I say.
Ben shakes his head. “I don’t either.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Greetings From Asheville
At noon, we’re bundled in warm clothing, trying to decide where to eat as we wind down a narrow street. We pause in front of a green menu board set up on the sidewalk in front of a tiny café. The building is outlined by a dark blue canopy. There’s a small chime dangling from above the doorway that makes a delicate tinkling sound every time a patron sweeps past us.
Ben lowers his head. His mouth is just a few inches from my ear. “Does this look okay to you?”
I nod, but the truth is that I’m barely paying attention to the specials written in cursive on the menu board. My stomach is too full of butterflies to be concerned with eating lunch.
Even though I know that it’s not, today feels like a date.
I’m fully aware that this whole weekend of visiting Ben’s family in North Carolina is a fluke—a sort roommate-in-crisis bonding experience. If I hadn’t gotten the rejection letter from Columbia in Thursday’s mail, I’d be deciding what to have for lunch in D.C. right now, and Ben and I would still be barely talking.
But I can’t help but revel in the little moments with Ben. Like the way that the heat of his body melds into mine when we’re standing next to each other. Or the gentle brush of his fingertips on my wrist when we’re walking next to each other. I’m all flurry and fluttering heart. It’s like now that the idea of wanting Ben is back, I can’t contain it.
We enter the café and are seated at a small round table. Beside us is a window that opens out onto the street. Ben scoots his chair closer to the edge of the table and asks, “So what do you think about Asheville so far?”
I frown. “We’ve been downtown for about forty-five minutes, right?”
“Yeah…” he says slowly, his eyes trained on me.
“Well,” I say, fussing with my silverware. “I decided approximately forty-four minutes ago that I’m in love with this city.”
I know that my statement makes him happy because of the way that he smiles and ducks his head so that his hair covers the flush creeping into his cheeks.
The waitress, an attractive woman a few years older than us, with a tattoo of a peacock on her forearm, comes over to take our order. I try not to bristle when she barely smiles at me, but cranks it up to full wattage for Ben’s sake. When her large, globe-like breasts skim his shoulder as she points out the soup of the day on the paper menu in his hands, I have to remind myself for the second time in the last five minutes that I’m not on a date with Ben.
“Just holler if you need anything. I’m Amy,” the waitress hedges as she deposits our drinks on the table. “Your food will be out shortly.”
I’m not even going to acknowledge the hungry look that she gives Ben or the way that she waggles her butt in his face when she walks away from our table. God. I’m like a rabid dog with my hackles up. I take a long breath and exhale through my clenched teeth.
“So…” Ben says. He folds his hands on the table in front of him and points his index fingers up like a steeple.
“So…” I mirror.
Ben chews his lip and considers me. “Are things between us back to being weird?”
I purse my lips and crinkle my nose. “Possibly.”
He chuckles.
I can’t think of anything to say, so I take a sip of water and look out the window at Asheville. I really do love it. It’s small and quirky in an artisanal kind of way. It’s the type of city that makes you want to grow your hair out, learn how to build hand-carved furniture, and start brewing your own beer.
“Do you want to talk about law school?” Ben asks finally.
I shake my head and frown. “Not really. I applied to a bunch of other places, but I can’t really think about that now. I’d prefer to talk about something else.”
“I get that,” Ben says. So, he tells me more about his brothers, and what it was like for them after his dad died six years ago. And then he talks about classes and describes the auditions that he has coming up.
“Seattle?”
“Yeah. And Monterey and a couple other places in California.”
“Oh,” I murmur, dropping my eyes to my burger. It arrived a minute ago. “That just seems really far away. I thought that you were going to try for New York, or Boston, or someplace else on the East Coast.”
Ben doesn’t say anything right away. “I was planning on New York, but lately I’m not so sure. I’m starting to feel like I need some distance.” He looks down. “The guys in the band say that they’re flexible. Nick does computer stuff so he can be pretty much anywhere, and Taylor and Connor will probably just look for bartending jobs. They say that it’s up to me.”
“And you’re going to continue to lead this double life? Symphony by day and Accidental Sweet Tea by night?”
Ben shrugs his shoulders. “At least until we figure things out or get some sort of deal that can pay the bills. If that never happens, then I’m still okay.”
“What about Mia?” I blurt out.
Ben pauses, a sweet potato fry perched between his fingers. “What about Mia?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m wondering if she’ll be going with you wherever you end up after graduation.” I’m flustered, shaking my head and moving my hands too much in an attempt to distract from the prickling jealousy in my voice.
Ben is watching me. He picks up his glass slowly. “Mia was helping out for awhile because Connor was dealing with some stuff at home, but she’s not a regular band member. Plus, she still has another year of school before she graduates so…”
“Oh. I’m sure that she’ll miss you.”
God, I am so obtuse. I can’t believe that I just said that.
“Ellie,” Ben says in a tone that forces me to look up at him. “Mia and I—” He drops his voice. “Mia is a lesbian. You didn’t think that we were involved or anything like that—did you?”
I automatically shake my head, my heart beating spasmodically. A lesbian? How in the hell did I miss that?
“Oh, right. I knew that,” I say even though I’m pretty sure that it’s clear that I didn’t know that.
“How about you?” He asks gently.
I look him directly in the eye.
“Me?” My mouth goes slack. Is he being serious? “I-I’m not a lesbian.”
Ben’s laugh is raucous. The couple at the table next to us looks over. From the hostess station, Amy, our flirty waitress flashes me a dirty look.
“No,” he says, catching his breath. “I meant… what about that guy you were seeing?”
My brain spins. Does he mean Evan? How in the world does he even know about my date with Evan?
“I overheard Payton and Ainsley talking. They said that you had a date with a guy from one of your classes. Some political science major,” he qualifies when I don’t answer right away.
I think about how there are so many parts to this story between Ben and me. How words and mistakes have made everything between us so muddled.
“That was nothing,” I say, moving forward through the murkiness. “It was just one date. And, it didn’t end well. I’m not going to go out with him again.”
Ben’s face breaks into a relaxed smile. I get the sense that my answer mattered to him.
I don’t know how to describe what happens next. How everything changes. The music gets louder. The sun seems brighter. T
he air thins out, making it easier to breathe.
After lunch, we explore the rest of downtown Asheville. We duck into used bookstores and small gift shops that sell handmade soap and vinyl records and crocheted scarves.
I lean in while Ben points things out to me, his breath coming out in warm clouds. I don’t mean to let my thoughts get away from me, but they do.
We pause at a corner where the sidewalk slopes down and wait for the light to change. The sun is behind us, casting long shadows of our bodies that extend from our feet out into the asphalt street.
“I feel better,” I say, knowing that Ben will understand what I mean.
His gaze on me is unbreakable. “Me too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ashes! Ashes! We All Fall Down
Beyond the window of the car, the shadowy mountains cut a jagged black line against the dark sky.
“Time’s running out.” Ben prompts.
“I have to think about this one!” I whine.
We’re back to playing the guess-which-song game. Once again, I am losing. No surprise here.
“Led Zeppelin?” I ask cautiously.
Ben opens his mouth and flicks a baffled look at me. “I can’t believe you just said that. This isn’t Led Zeppelin. This is Rolling Stones, Ellie. Rolling. Stones.”
“And?”
His eyes widen. “How do you not know that this is a Stones song?”
“Honestly, I think that I should be praised for at least guessing a band from the same time period.” I smile in amusement. “I told you the first time that we played that I would be terrible at this. You forced me to play again and now I’ve lost twice to you.”
“And you lost at Scrabble,” he adds.
“Hey hotshot! I think I beat you at cards and that you actually surrendered the Scrabble game to me, so I don’t think you can tally it as a win on your side.”
Ben blinks and stiffens his shoulders.
My cheeks flush with heat when I register what I’ve said. Ben did surrender that Scrabble game to me, but only because I seduced him. I can tell by the way that his breathing changes and the hard movement of his throat that he’s thinking exactly what I’m thinking.
“So I did,” he says unsteadily. He turns the steering wheel onto the curving street that leads to his house. I notice that his knuckles are squeezed white.
He parks the car and turns to me.
“This weekend...” He clears his throat and starts again. “This weekend has been really great.”
My breathing is too shallow and it’s causing my head to spin. This weekend has been great. It’s Sunday night and we’re leaving to go back to school in the morning and I don’t want to. I’m afraid that this shift between Ben and me will shift again, and I’m not looking forward to going back to the way things were.
Yesterday we spent the entire day with his mom and younger brothers. We seemed to find a million innocent ways to touch each other. There were countless seconds of lingering gazes and widening smiles and speeding heartbeats. Today, Ben took me to his favorite music stores in Asheville. We had dinner with his two best friends from growing up. It’s been, in a word, amazing.
“Yeah,” I say cautiously, feeling my eyelashes flutter against my cheeks. “It has been a good weekend. Really good. I’ve barely thought about the letter from Columbia at all.”
Ben squeezes his eyes shut. “Good,” he says rigidly, swinging his legs to get out of the car. “That was the idea.”
For a few seconds I don’t move. My thoughts are unraveling like a spool of yarn that’s been dropped. I know that I did something wrong. I fling open my door and the cold outside air knocks into me. I trip as I step around to the front of the car where Ben is. My fingers wrap around the fabric of his jacket and I pull him to a stop beside me.
“What?” I ask, sounding more desperate than I intend.
Ben turns his head back so that I can see his face. Eyes, wide and shiny, blink solemnly down at me. His firm mouth is set in a straight line.
“Nothing,” he says.
“Why—what did I say wrong?”
I lift my cold fingers to his cheek. He flinches and I jerk my hand back.
“It’s nothing,” he says again. Then he smiles a sad kind of smile and goes inside the house.
I am left standing outside, my feet and hands tingling with cold, wondering what just happened.
I don’t bother to put on my pajamas. I tug my shirt over my head and slip my jeans off my legs and push myself under the covers in just my bra and underwear.
I could stare at the dark ceiling of Ben’s childhood bedroom for hours and still have no answers. I’ve replayed the conversation in the car a hundred times already. Did I freak him out? Was it because I brought up Columbia?
I’m all confusion and wrong directions and missed turns. I roll over and pull one of the bed pillows down over my head.
I almost miss the soft sound.
Tap, tap, tap
I sit up, holding the covers up to block my state of undress, and listen carefully.
There it is again. More distinct this time. A single finger against the door.
“Yeah?” I whisper, my breath funneling out of my lungs.
The door cracks and a sliver of light from the hall slips in. The face hovering in the doorway is caught in shadow, but I know that it’s Ben.
He comes into the room and closes the door behind him. When he sits on the edge of the bed, I stop breathing. I. Stop. Breathing.
“Ellie?”
“I’m here,” I say to the darkness.
He reaches out with his fingers and finds my arm. I bite back a shiver. My heart aches. It’s so acute that I think if I weren’t already on the bed, I would be falling over from the strain of it.
“Ellie?” His chest heaves under the stress of breathing properly. He comes closer, his body pushing the cold away, making my skin pulse with red heat.
Ben moves his hand. He grazes my elbow, my shoulder, my collarbone. I know when he realizes that I’m not wearing much of anything because his four fingers stop and press into my skin. Then, at a maddeningly slow pace, they glide over the swell of my breasts and down my body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pulling his hand back like he’s just realized that he’s touching something that’s off-limits. “I know that you were probably sleeping and this is weird, but I couldn’t—”
I don’t wait to hear the rest of what he’s trying to say. I move quickly. I kiss him. I kiss him with so much urgency and bottled up passion that I think that we’re going to ignite. We will be a raging fire. Maybe by morning, we’ll be nothing but a pile of ash, and when she wakes up, Ben’s mom will look down at the soot in his old bed and wonder where we went.
I’m spinning. Flying.
Ben is above me. With his lips, he breathes stars and stirred up words and memories down my body. He slips lower, pulling at my underwear with his thumbs.
“What you do to me…” He’s speaking so quietly that I can hardly hear him. His chin scratches against my ribs. “You’re like a fire inside of me.”
Inside of me, I think. But, I don’t talk. My tongue is too busy tasting his skin. I shift, using my hip bone to push Ben flat on his back. I straddle his narrow waist. I run my fingers up under his shirt, over his smooth chest. I tug once and the shirt is off, balled up on the floor beside the bed.
I trace the hard line of his shoulders, and move my fingers up over the prominent lines of his face. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I can just make out his moon eyes and his exquisite mouth. I touch his bottom lip. Then I kiss it. I touch his top lip. Then I follow the angle of it with my tongue.
Ben is heaving. The air is pummeling through him like a storm over water. I bend down. My hair falls with me. It tickles the taut skin of his stomach. I place one, two, three… ten soft kisses along his body.
His pants fall away. He is gasping now. We’re on the edge of a cliff and we’re dropping, dropping, dropping,
and Ben is gripping my waist like he’s afraid to lose me.
I’m afraid to lose him.
I pull him closer, but it’s not close enough. It feels like nothing will ever be close enough. Like I could burrow a tunnel under his skin and swim in his veins and still, it won’t be enough.
Enough
He closes his eyes. He opens them.
He grasps my face between his palms and looks at me for a long time. So long that my hands stop moving and my jagged heartbeats find an even rhythm.
“This,” he says quietly—solemnly—like it means something important. “It isn’t enough.”
Before I can shake of the slap of his words and respond in some way, Ben is pinching his clothes under his arms and slipping away from me. I haven’t said a thing and Ben’s feet are moving and he’s shutting the door to the bedroom. To my heart.
I am on an edge of glass.
And it’s breaking.
The morning is a blur of suitcases and cold cereal and robotic thank yous. It moves fast and it’s all I can do to keep up.
Ben doesn’t look at me. He won’t. He keeps his hands at his sides and his eyes trained in the opposite direction. When we’re in the hall by the front door, his mom pulls him aside and says something to him that’s too low for me to hear. He blinks and nods his head once as he clasps and unclasps his hands in front of his chest.
I look down so that he doesn’t catch me staring. I chew the inside corner of my lip, and squeeze the handle of my suitcase until I can’t feel my fingers anymore.
Logan and Blake are reserved when it comes to goodbye, but Kyle is easier. He gives me a high-five that turns into a hug. Asher is next. Grinning widely and holding me for a beat too long, he slips his cell phone number into the back pocket of my jeans. When I peek at it, I see that he’s drawn a little sideways smiley face next to his name. I laugh and shake my head at him.
Lisa comes up and wraps her arms around my shoulders. She pulls back a few inches and searches my face. There’s so much in her eyes and her creased forehead that I start to wither. Quickly, like she’s deciding something, she kisses my cheek and pats my shoulder.
On an Edge of Glass Page 19
