Unsure if Claire had agreed to a study or a make-out session, Blake nodded, feeling pretty good about either. Progress.
“Where should we go?” she asked, adjusting the backpack straps on her shoulders. “The library?”
She must have been playing it coy. There was no way she didn’t know what he was going to suggest, but he gave her the courtesy of letting her have her game. “How about my house, Claire?”
Biting her lip, she considered the proposal before nodding her head. “Alright.”
As they walked down the hallway and out of the school, Blake reminded himself that she had a boyfriend, that there was no chance she would actually let herself go enough to be with him, even for an afternoon.
“Marni’s been asking about you,” she said as they ambled onto the sidewalk to Blake’s house. They’d made the trek many times before, but it had been so long since they’d been together like this.
Fluffy white clouds passed overhead as the late-May sun warmed their faces. If it hadn’t been spring, being next to Claire would have made it feel like it was. Blake wanted to grasp for her hand, interlace their fingers, hold her as they walked, but he refrained, worried the show of affection would scare her away.
“I haven’t talked to her in a while,” Blake noted. Even the mention of his friend’s name was a blast from the still not so distant past. “How’s she doing?”
“Well,” Claire replied. “She was in Lexington for a while but now she’s back in Unionville. You should text her. She’d love to hear from you.”
“We should all hang out,” Blake suggested, earning him an eye-roll from Claire. “What?”
“We aren’t even past this study session and you’re already planning ahead.”
“Master planning,” Blake corrected with a wink.
“You just winked.”
“I did.”
She laughed. “Who winks?”
“I guess me sometimes,” he laughed. “There’s a lot going on here.”
“So much,” Claire agreed, bumping into Blake with her shoulder playfully.
Though Blake was glad his mom was at work, he almost wished she would have been home when he led Claire through the front door. Grace loved Claire. There wasn’t much not to adore. As far as Grace was concerned, Claire was a pillar of responsibility and good Christian values. It wouldn’t be bad if his mother thought even an iota of that goodness could rub off on him.
Fuck, Blake wanted to rub up on Claire.
“Where are the cats?” she asked, wrapping her fingers around the straps of her bag, a security blanket.
“Probably upstairs,” he answered. “Do you want to go look for them?”
“Okay.” She nodded and followed Blake up the stairs. It was hard to believe that Claire was in his house to begin with, and the fact that she was now climbing the steps to his room was otherwise unfathomable. He thought about this moment so many times since she dumped him, but never thought it would become a reality. Good shit didn’t happen in his life anymore. His streak of bad luck—and choices—had convinced him of that.
“Hey cutie. Where’s your brother?” Claire cooed, dropping to her knees so she could pet Chewy, a cat who was generally cranky toward anyone but her. It was unbelievable that even after a year, the cat remained warm toward her.
“You’re going to give him a big head with all that affection,” Blake chuckled.
Claire pursed her lips. “That sounds like the same reservations I have with giving you attention,” she teased.
“Believe me, my head’s not big, especially not after the last few months. Someone who fucks up as much as me can’t be cocky.”
“That’s not true. Maybe it’s your cockiness that keeps you messing up. It convinces you that you won’t get caught or get in any trouble.”
“Are you taking psychology this year?” he questioned, worried that she’d somehow developed the ability to read him like a book.
Claire shook her head, standing up straight. “No, but you’re easy.”
“You’re not,” Blake promised her, as if she didn’t already know.
“That’s true,” she conceded, smiling as he moved closer to her.
Blake had to take the chance. There wouldn’t be many others. Claire was in a relationship, but she was also in his room, right in front of him, looking beautiful and open. He would be stupid not to try something, anything, to connect with her again. Sliding his hands into the small gaps between Claire’s shoulders and the straps, Blake pushed the bag off her back while simultaneously leaning down to slot his lips against hers. She reciprocated, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her in closer, relieved she didn’t resist.
Their kisses grew more feverish as they stripped off their clothes, a culmination of months of anticipation and want. Falling onto the bed, Blake attempted to kick his pants off his ankles, yanking them off when they ended up tangled. He grinned as Claire kissed his neck, her hands traveling over his body. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he flipped her over, so he was leaning on top of her. Blake placed a hand tenderly on her cheek, gazing into her eyes.
“Is this alright?” he asked, aware that her body was as ready as his, but worried her mind might not be.
“I’m still a virgin,” she whispered, the statement causing Blake an immense amount of relief. He was glad she didn’t give it up to what’s-his-name. Maybe there was hope for Blake yet.
“We don’t have to—" he began, sitting up, only to be yanked down by Claire.
“I want to,” Claire promised with a sexy little smile.
“Yeah?” Blake asked, hearing the excitement in his own voice.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
Blake scrambled off the bed to get a condom out of the shoebox in his closet and hurried back to Claire. It was hard to believe it was about to happen. He’d thought about the moment for so long and, finally, his fantasies about Claire were about to become a reality. While he’d had plenty of sex in the past, being with Claire felt different, special in a lot of ways he hadn’t expected.
As they lay in bed holding each other after they were done, Blake’s mind spun, wondering how things would change between them. He hoped Claire would end things with her boyfriend and be with him, but he couldn’t help but be tentative about the idea of getting back with her. Their breakup had been difficult, and as much as he liked Claire, he didn’t want to go through that shit again.
Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Blake kissed her cheek. He wasn’t sure things would pan out between them, but he wanted things to be okay, at least for a little while.
“That was nice,” she said softly, grinning when his eyes went wide.
“Nice? A walk in the park is nice, a bouquet of flowers is nice. That was better than nice.”
She giggled. “Hmm, let me think about how I’d describe it then...”
“How about Earth-shakingly awesome?” he suggested, tapping his fingers on his defined pecs. “I think that would be fair.”
“Definitely fair,” she agreed, “but I was going to say mind-blowingly amazing.”
“I could settle for that,” Blake grinned. “That sounds pretty good.”
“It was pretty good.”
He laughed. “No. That’s a downgrade from mind-blowingly amazing.”
Claire pressed her lips against his. “Then we’ll stick with mind-blowingly amazing. I feel confident about that.”
“You should feel confident about a lot of things,” he flirted, pulling her in closer. “So many things.”
“Is that right?” she hummed.
“That’s right,” he assured.
It was true.
Part II
Senior
14
Blake turned eighteen a week before his senior year, and while it was a milestone moment, he instantly felt a pressure he hadn’t expected in regards to his new adult status. The dumb things he’d done the year before would have meant serio
us time if he’d been caught doing them at a legal age. He needed to be smarter, to make better decisions, keep his nose clean, and focus.
Summer was surprisingly wonderful. Though things were still strained with his mother and brother, Blake had made some headway in gaining their trust back simply by fucking up less. He consistently made it home before curfew and helped out around the house more than he had in the past. There was something to be said for being responsible. It alleviated the tinges of guilt he felt when he complicated shit for his mom.
Blake had spent the majority of the sunny, sweaty days with Greg, laughing and feeling more grounded than he had in a while. They got into typical teenage shenanigans, but everything was lighter with Greg than it was with Nick. Smoking weed in the dugouts of the high school baseball field felt like a rite of passage with Greg rather than an escape. Blake was present, something he hadn’t wanted to be, but knew he should have been. His behavior was far from angelic, but it was further from devilish. There was no secret sniffing of prescription medication or driving under the influence of anything. Things felt pure and idyllic in comparison to how heavy they’d been during the school year.
Summer days spent with Claire had been more complicated than the ones Blake enjoyed with Greg. She’d broken up with her boyfriend shortly after she and Blake had slept together but made it clear to Blake that she planned to stay single. Ideally, he would have wanted to be with her, but the fact that they were still screwing from time to time was a good consolation. When it came down to it, though he desired more, things were simple, which was exactly what Blake needed. He had one more year of high school and he knew he’d benefit from an increased commitment to graduate.
The fantasy of getting out of Kentucky was more intoxicating than the Adderall had ever been. Attending boarding school in North Carolina in his freshman year had been good for him. Blake liked being in a new place, meeting new people, having a new life. It was appealing that he could have that again in college. Though he knew wrestling was off the table, his grades were exceptional, which would make getting in to at least a few universities a piece of cake.
Imagining himself in college was a guilty pleasure. Sometimes Blake would allow his mind to wander to what life would be like in a dorm full of other guys who were smart, hot and horny. No doubt there would be dudes who were too scared to come out in high school but were finally ready to explore a whole new world of dick. Blake would be happy to be their guide. He wondered if college kickbacks were different than the high school parties he frequented. They had to be better, everything had to be better when there was more freedom.
“Funny seeing you here,” Greg grinned as he walked toward Blake, who was sitting on the curb outside WCHS.
“It’s such a coincidence,” Blake teased, taking his friend’s outstretched hand and allowing Greg to yank him up. Flashes of the first day of junior year popped into Blake’s mind, and it was night and day how different he felt. Although he’d begun eleventh grade with a sense of dread, the start of senior year felt hopeful and settled. He’d come a long way. He just had to keep on moving forward.
“How are you feeling?” Greg asked as they headed into the high school.
“Ready to get in and get this year done.”
“It’s not a good sign that you have senioritis on the first day, man.”
Blake smirked. “I think I caught that shit sophomore year. Is ‘sophomoritis’ a thing?”
“You’re a trailblazer. Emphasis on the ‘blazer.’”
“Speaking of which, are we chilling after school?”
“I don’t see why not. We’re putting in time. I’d say we’re earning a future brain break,” Greg nodded. “At least it’s something to look forward to.”
“I like the way you think. Where’s Ian at? He hasn’t been around lately?” Blake asked. He wasn’t as close with the redhead as he was to Greg, but he liked spending time with him here and there.
“He’s with Kelsey now,” Greg explained. “I think she’s holding his balls in a vise. He holds her purse at the mall and stuff, brings her Starbucks. It’s the new and improved Ian.”
“He could do worse. It’s not a bad thing he’s busting his ass to make her happy.”
“Not a bad thing at all,” Greg agreed. “Plus, it makes me laugh.”
“Which is always important,” Blake chuckled.
“Tremendously.”
As they walked past Jeremiah Burbar and a few other guys on the wrestling team, Blake was relieved that he didn’t experience the waves of shame or surges of anger he’d felt the last time he was in their presence. He didn’t forgive them for the fact that they were ignorant pieces of shit, but his rage had markedly subsided. Deep down, Blake wished he would have gone with his first instinct after the alienation and enrolled at a rival school, so he could hand them their asses on the mat. Circumstances had been too crazy to follow through on the fantasy, but that hadn’t stopped Blake from daydreaming about it.
“You should join up again,” Greg suggested once the idiots were out of earshot.
Blake stopped in his tracks to study his friend’s face for an ounce of jest. He couldn’t find it. “You’re fucking serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“Why would I ever do that after the way things went down last year?”
“Because you love wrestling,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re good at it and those guys don’t have the right to keep you from doing something you love and are good at. That’s why.”
“You have to get these idealistic, triumphant scenarios out of your mind. You do it with everything and the only thing it’s going to lead to is disappointment. Things don’t always work out the way they should. Those are the facts.”
“They’re hardly facts. They’re impressions from a jaded mind. That level of skepticism can’t be trusted.”
Blake shook his head and laughed. “You’ve gotten really philosophical in your old age.”
“Senior year’s looking good on me,” Greg agreed. “But, in all honesty, you should go for it, get back out there, be the beast I know you are.”
“Yeah,” Blake cringed. “I think I’ll pass on that.”
“Their loss then, and yours, too.”
“Debatable.”
“You know I’m always willing to debate.”
“Of course, it’s one of your worst qualities,” Blake retorted, patting his friend on the back.
“Speaking of bad qualities…Are you really dropping Lexington Tech this year?”
Blake raised an eyebrow in challenge. “How is that a bad thing? I didn’t feel like I got much out of it last year, so I’m not wasting my time.”
“Like you’re not wasting your time with wrestling, yeah?” Greg pressed raising his eyebrows right back.
“You know what, how about we talk about you, G? We don’t talk about you enough. How about I give you some shit for your bullshit?”
“Well, as fun as that sounds, the bell’s about to ring,” Greg replied with a mischievous grin.
“But it didn’t ring yet,” Blake pointed out. “I could get started...”
“The thing is, I’m a little more sensitive than you. Some may say, not as strong. You need a truth teller, I need a cheerleader, and I think you’d look amazing in a skirt. You have great legs and you’re pretty limber.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“Expertly,” Greg agreed.
“It’s not really expertly if I just called it out,” Blake contended, hooking his new padlock on his locker and giving it a tug to make sure it was secure. “It’s amateurish at best.”
“We should share a locker, my homeroom is F12 and my locker’s in B wing. Your locker is in a much better location for me.”
“But walking is good for you, too. You said you wanted to shed a few pounds,” Blake reminded, tickling his friend’s belly.
“That was theoretical,” Greg explained. “If the opportunity presented itself for me to lose some poundage in a m
iraculous way, I’d take it.”
“I missed the miraculous caveat before.”
“You have to pay better attention, Mitchell. I’m going to add that to my list,” Greg teased, giving Blake a cheeky grin as the warning bell rang. “That’s my cue to go.”
“Pussy,” Blake smirked, turning to make his way into his homeroom.
Unsurprisingly, Xander was already seated in one of the desks, but very surprisingly, Blake was unaffected by his presence. Last year the sight of the loudmouth filled Blake with anxiety, but the life he had lived since the first day of junior year had proven to him that there were worse things than the betrayal of a shitty human being and the negative reactions of equally crappy people. There was no weight in Xander being there, no omens of a bad year to come or self-fulfilling prophecies of failure.
Sliding into a desk in the front of the room, Blake waited for the announcements to begin, ready to get the day started and the year underway. Finally, there was light at the end of the scholastic drudgery tunnel and he was pretty sure it was the glow of his bright future.
15
Blake should have known shit was about to hit the fan. He’d made it until mid-October without a detention, and his life had been too idyllic for comfort. The cycle of turbulence that he’d had to contend with over the last several years never subsided long enough for Blake to believe he’d done the impossible and broken it. When things were going well for a significant period of time, Blake began to wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. It was hard to accept that perhaps he was on an upward trajectory, because if he did, he wouldn’t be prepared when the positivity inevitably began to decline. It’s why he wasn’t surprised by the fact that a very trivial infraction at school had snowballed into a blizzard of bullshit.
As usual, Blake had left his nylon drawstring bag, which contained a baggie of weed, snacks and other miscellaneous crap in his stash spot outside the Circle K across the street from the high school. He wasn’t dumb enough to risk bringing drugs into school, so he kept them in a divot behind a tree. That way, Blake didn’t need to backtrack to his house after school before going to the park to get high with Greg and Ian. He’d been using the method for at least a year and never had a problem. It wasn’t until he made the mistake of leaving his school issue iPad in the bag that his use of the stash spot blew up in his face.
His Own Way Out Page 8
