by Tabatha Kiss
“What happened?”
“I slept with her.”
“So?”
“Literally. In bed. Fully clothed. Sleep.”
Maggie reaches across the table to lay a comforting hand on mine. “Was there spooning?” she whispers.
“There might definitely have been some spooning.”
“Did you like it?”
I close my eyes, recalling the warmth of Alyssa’s body lying next to mine. “A lot.”
“Junior.” Maggie clears her throat, forcing the obvious cackle back down into her lungs. “I’m so proud of you.”
I shake her hand off. “Don’t do that, Mag.”
“My little brother, all grown up and in his first exclusive relationship!”
“We are not exclusive,” I say. “We’re just having fun. Last night was an accident.”
“Last night?!”
I stop, but I’ve already said too much. There’s no going back now. I tossed a fierce kitten a loose thread and she won’t stop until she’s through unraveling it with her claws.
“I came straight here from her place,” I say.
“So, instead of partying with the team last night, you went over to see her?”
“We had plans, but she got sick and canceled. I wanted to see if she was okay.”
“Did you bring soup?” she asks, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Please tell me you brought her soup.”
“I brought her coffee.”
“Junior.” Maggie smiles. “You like her.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Junior.” She gives her voice a hard edge. “I know like her when I see it and you like her.” I sit back and sigh with annoyance. “It’s okay to like her. Why are you so embarrassed?”
“I’m not embarrassed. And no, it’s not okay to like her. Not this one.”
She chews on that for a moment. “Have you been having fun with anyone else since you first had fun with her?”
“No.”
“Has she?”
“I hope not. I mean...” I give a passive shrug, reacting to Maggie’s twisted smirk. “I don’t know. Not that I’d care if she did…”
Liar.
“Hate to break it to you, little brother, but you are one very specific conversation away from being in an exclusive relationship with this girl.”
“She wouldn’t go for it.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not allowed to see each other.”
“Not allowed?” she mocks. “What is she, a Capulet?”
“No. She’s a Pierce.”
“A Pierce?!” She blinks a dozen times. “As in the new football coach, Pierce?”
I gesture for her to lower her voice. “As in his daughter, Alyssa, yes. He doesn’t want anyone on the team involved with her, but we kind of... rebelled.”
“Wait.” Maggie gawks at me. “She’s really pretty.”
I note her confused stare. “This shocks you?”
“No, I’m just surprised you have actual taste for once.”
“Mag, I’ve been telling you about banging hot girls since I was in high school.”
“There is a huge difference between the hot girl and the pretty girl, little brother. The hot girl you brag about to your friends. The pretty girl you take home to meet Mom.”
I shake my head. “No one’s going home to meet Mom. Wait, how do you know she’s pretty?”
“Nate and I always go to theatre department showcases,” she says. “I noticed her name popping up in the programs this year and she is very hard not to notice up there. She’s really talented.”
“I know.”
“You’ve seen her perform?”
I hesitate, imagining the exact expression my response will bring. “I help her run lines.”
Maggie’s jaw drops in slow motion, the edges of her lips curling into a maniacal grin. “You help her memorize her lines?!”
“Mag.”
“That’s so cute!”
“Stop it. She helps me with my math homework. It’s an even trade.”
“I thought you two were just having fun.”
“Can we drop this, please?”
“Okay,” she says, giggling behind her soda cup.
I stare Maggie down. “You go to all the theatre showcases, but you’ve never once been to one of my games?”
She winces. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.” She slaps her hand on the table between us. “Oh, speaking of Mom. Her birthday is next Sunday. I was thinking we could head over there and see her instead of coming here?”
“Fine by me,” I say. “Want me to pick you up?”
Her face contorts. “Um, no. I will pick you up and we’ll take my car. There’s no way I’m getting in that shag wagon of yours.”
“Fair enough.”
“Anyway…” She grabs her purse off the back of her chair. “I need to stop by the campus bookstore. Wanna tag along?”
“No,” I say. “I have some homework to do, I think…”
“I’ll see you next week.” She stands up, then pauses, her nose scrunching upward like a withering sponge. “You haven’t dragged Alyssa into that van, have you?”
I hesitate.
She doesn’t even try to hide her disgust. “You’re lucky she even likes you at all.”
“I tell myself that every day.”
“Bye, little brother.”
“Bye, Mag. Wait. You think she likes me?”
She grins. “Have you thought of asking her that?”
I shake my head. “We’re not allowed to be together.”
“It kind of sounds like you already are, Junior.”
She squeezes my shoulder as she passes by, leaving me alone to absorb the situation.
Alyssa has been pretty clear from the start that this isn’t serious. It can’t be. That’s rule number one. We hang out, we have sex, we study and read lines. No emotions necessary. No need to second-guess anything we say or do because it’s all on the surface. I scratch her back. She scratches mine. It’s a pleasant arrangement.
But then, why did I rush over there like that last night? Why did she even let me in? Why didn’t either of us complain when we were cuddling in her bed?
Because you’re dating her, you fucking moron.
I reach for my phone, instinct driving for me to call her, but I drop it back down. I don’t even know what I’d say to her. I just want to hear her voice.
Shit. I really do like her.
No, that’s not enough.
I’m fucking crazy about her.
I don’t remember how I got back to Shanty Row. I’ve been so stuck in my head since lunch, obsessing over the possibility of having the talk with Alyssa Pierce that I arrived home completely on auto-pilot.
At this point, I’ve managed to talk myself into believing that Alyssa feels the same way about me as I do about her. There’s something in her smile, something so beautiful and comforting, that there must be more than just casual friendliness behind it. No girl has ever looked at me like that before — at least, none that I’ve noticed as much as her.
The front door opens as I hop up onto the porch.
“Good morning, Lover Boy.”
Grant steps out and pops the door closed behind him.
“Hey, Grant,” I say with confusion. “Are you looking for Alyssa?”
He grins. “Nope.”
I furrow my brow. “Then what…”
“Don’t think too hard about it.”
He taps my cheek with his palm as he passes. I stand still for several moments while he half-skips to his car parked on the street.
Okay, then.
I step inside the house and run right into Ty’s worrisome face.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes shifting from mine to the street outside. “So, I can explain—”
“Relax, man,” I say. “Grant’s a cool guy.”
I give his shoulder a reassuring pat as I walk by on my way to the living room couch. Ty follows me,
the tension visibly releasing from his shoulders as he watches me plop down on the cushions.
“Rough night?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “It was good. Really good.”
“Then why do you look like someone sucker-punched you in the nads?”
I stare at the ceiling. There’s a word on my tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever used it in this context before, but I might as well test drive it now.
“I’m in love with Alyssa.”
My body twinges. I jolt at the mere mention of it, but I settle just as quickly. Somehow, I feel lighter and better off than I was before — like a long overdue, cathartic shock to the system.
Ty chuckles. “Shit, dude. You just now figure that out?”
“Yeah.”
“I could have told you that.”
I look at him. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
“Do you feel badly about it?”
I let a moment pass. “No.”
“So, what’s wrong? Other than the obvious she’s Cary Pierce’s daughter part?”
“Shit. This is bad.”
“You didn’t seem all that concerned about it before.”
“Well, it was just sex before. I can do sex. I like sex.” Words fall out of me with little thought. “Sex and I are buddies. Being in love is something else entirely.”
“Is it, though?” he asks, tilting his head.
I blink. “Isn’t it?”
“You sure you’re not just over-thinking this?”
“Probably. I mean, what do I do now? Do I tell her? How do I talk to her? How do I act around her? Do we stop having sex? Do we have more sex?”
“Okay, yeah. You’re definitely over-thinking it.” He angles toward the kitchen. “I’m going to put on some coffee and then we’re going to talk this out.”
I look straight ahead as he wanders out of the room, once again spiraling down into a labyrinth of what-ifs and maybes. What if Alyssa doesn’t love me back? Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn’t. I was so sure just five minutes ago that she wanted me, but now I’ve dropped anchor right back to square one.
This love thing sucks.
“Junior.”
I look up at Ty in the kitchen doorway. “Yeah?”
“Whatever you decide — don’t fuck it up,” he warns softly. “We’re on track for the championship this year. I would very much like for that to happen.”
“Me, too,” I say, meaning it.
He disappears into the kitchen again, leaving me crushed and nauseated. Maybe I caught a little of Alyssa’s stomach bug after all. Or maybe I just can’t deal with the fact that I have no business falling in love with her. We can’t be together the way I want us to be.
But that hasn’t stopped us so far, right?
CHAPTER 34
ALYSSA
I feel strange.
Almost broken, in a way. Except there’s nothing shattered or missing. There’s something new inside, shifting the usual formation out of place like a pebble shaking around in my shoe.
A pebble. It’s smaller than that. If it even exists at all. Just thinking about it gives me a stress headache.
How can something so small mean so much so quickly?
“When is it due?”
I snap up from my book to find Junior staring across the table at me. “What?”
He smiles and taps his pencil against my book. “The scene. When do you need to have it memorized?”
“Oh, um…” I rub the bridge of my nose. “Next Thursday, I think.”
“Are you okay? You seem strange today.”
“I’m fine.”
“A little off.”
“Not off. No strangeness. Just tired, I guess.” I point to his notebook. “Have you finished that proof?”
“Yup.” Junior slides it over to me. I pick up my pencil to check his work. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“I have rehearsal on Saturday,” I mutter, glancing over the page. “This looks good. Try the next one.”
He takes the notebook back, but sets it off to the side. “What are you doing afterward?”
I pause, noting the intensity of his stare. “I have no plans. Why?”
“I want you to come by my place,” he says. “There’s no game this weekend and Ty is making himself scarce for a while.”
“Okay.” I sit back, taking the bait. “Scarce for what?”
He shows a short, but sinister, smile. “I just want you to stop by for something.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Stop by for what?”
“I want to talk to you about something.”
“We’re talking right now. What’s up?”
“This isn’t a…” he gestures around us, “library study room discussion, you know?”
“Oh.” My gut lurches. “You want to discuss something?”
“Yes.”
“Is everything okay?”
“It should be.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighs, but that nervous flicker never quite leaves his eyes. “Come over after rehearsal and we’ll talk. Okay? Please, just say yes.”
I bite my lip. Junior’s invitations aren’t usually so wordy. Coming over tonight? That’s about all he ever needs to say to make his intentions known and I never expect talking to be on the agenda for very long.
He wants to discuss something.
Is he breaking things off? Is he inviting me over to dump me? Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. If he didn’t want to hook up anymore, he’d just stop talking to me altogether.
Maybe he feels like he has to put in the extra effort because of what happened last weekend. He woke up in my bed after holding me all night long. I imagine that was quite the shock for him. It was for me.
“Ally?”
“Okay,” I answer. “Yes. I will stop by after rehearsal.”
He smiles, victorious. “Good.”
“You know,” I say, “there’s, uh…”
I fall silent, thinking better of it.
Don’t bring it up yet. You don’t know anything concrete. We’re still in stomach bug territory. I’m not—
“What?” he asks.
But I owe it to him to mention the possibility, right?
“There’s something I need to talk to you about, too,” I say.
He leans forward with interest. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah! Yeah. Totally. It’s just not…”
“Library study room discussion?”
I nod. “Right.”
“Then I won’t worry about it until Saturday,” he says, grabbing his notebook.
“Well, I mean… there’s nothing to worry about, really. Unless you think I should be worried about something?”
“No!” He flinches. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”
“Good.”
I tap my pencil on the table, feeling even stranger than I did before. Come to think of it, Junior hasn’t tried to kiss or grope me since he walked in here.
Does he already know?
No, that’s impossible. There’s no way he could know before I do. But why else would he be treating me so differently?
I pick up my book to pretend to go over my lines again. The words on the page are just a faded blur right now.
This is fine. I can compartmentalize this. Junior seems to have no problem doing so. He’s focusing on his math homework. I can do that until Saturday, too. No problem. That’s only three days away. That’s nothing.
This is totally fine.
CHAPTER 35
ALYSSA
I’ve stood on this porch so many times before. It’s always a rush to get across the lawn and inside the house before someone drives by and recognizes me. But now…
I hesitate.
I associate the other side of Junior Morgan’s door with two things: orgasms and more orgasms.
Tonight, I don’t know what to expect, because tonight I’m going to tell Junior Morgan that I might be pregnant with his child.
I exhale hard. Even thinking it knocks the wind out of me.
I roll my fingers into a fist, preparing to knock, but the door swings open before I get the chance.
“Hey, Ally.”
I pause.
It’s Junior in the doorway, but… a side of him I haven’t seen yet. His hair is combed and perfect — not the usual rugged post-shower tuft I’m used to. He shaved, too. And recently. I can smell the aftershave from two feet away. And… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in that sweater before. Did he iron his jeans?
“Hey,” I say.
Junior steps to the side to invite me in. I have to force myself forward into the living room. It’s usually a mess — about what you’d expect from two college athletes living together — but tonight, it’s neat and tidy and… Is that air freshener I smell?
Junior takes my hand, sending a quick shiver from my palm to my shoulder. “Come with me,” he says.
He leads me with him into his bedroom. My mouth sags open wide. It’s even more spotless than the living room tonight. No laundry stacked in the corner. No mountain of trash in the bin. The bed is made. His desk is clear of clutter.
And candles. Scented candles.
“Junior, what’s going on?”
He guides me to his desk chair and sits me down. “I need to tell you something,” he says, lowering onto the edge of his bed. He grabs the chair beneath me and rolls me closer, planting me only a few inches away from him.
“Okay,” I say.
“But I know you also had something you had to say, so you can go first.”
“Oh, no.” I shake my head. A lot. “No. You go on ahead. It looks like you’re a little more…” I gesture around the room, “prepared.”
“I am.”
“Then you should go first. I insist.”
“Okay.” He inhales a deep breath and makes eye contact with me. “Alyssa…”
Alyssa?
He never calls me that.
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “I—”
He grabs it and guides it back to my lap. “Let me finish. Please.”
I fall silent, locked in place beneath his firm grip and handsome brown eyes, and nod.
Junior smiles at me again. “Ally, I like you.” He shakes his head. “I sound like a damn second-grader saying it like that, but… it’s true. I am — without a doubt — absolutely crazy about you.”
