Saving Face (a young adult romance)

by Dell, T. J.

  Nothing happened. They stood there close enough to taste each other, but Brent never moved.

  “Did you change your mind?” Alyssa finally pulled away from him.

  “I think I am very nervous.” Brent chuckled and lowered himself into his desk chair pulling Alyssa down into his lap.

  “And here I thought you were mister experience.” Alyssa chuckled too. It was such a relief to be able to tease him again.

  “Twice.”

  “What?” Alyssa wasn’t sure if he wasn’t making sense, or if being this close to him was addling her brain.

  “You seem to think that I have girls in my bed all the time. It is hardly a part of my daily routine. Once over the summer—I met a girl when I went to the beach with my dad. And then last September Melissa’s parents went out of town for the weekend.”

  “Well twice is still more than me—how come you wouldn’t tell me when I asked before, and now you’re mister details?”

  “Because Lyssa… there are some things I don’t think you should share with your friends, but that my girlfriend deserves to know.”

  “And now I’m your girlfriend?”

  “Is that weird?” Brent pulled her even more tightly to him.

  “Not a bit, now about that kiss…” Alyssa fluttered light kisses over his cheek closer and closer to his mouth.

  “I hate that you have bad memories of our first kiss. I think this one needs to be very very good to make up for it.” Turning his head Brent closed the remaining distance.

  It was the single most amazing kiss in Alyssa’s memory. His mouth slanted against hers, his tongue softly explored the contours of her mouth. She wanted to stay frozen in that moment forever. Someone knocked on the door.

  “Brent? Carol and Tim are leaving.”

  “Tell them bye for me, mom.” Brent reached for Alyssa again. But she pulled away, suddenly nervous. Brent thought that was funny.

  “Honey, is Alyssa in there with you?” Ms. Carter sounded worried.

  “Yes, mom. Lyssa came over to have a talk.” He was full on grinning now. Alyssa wanted to crawl under the purple stained rug.

  “Okay then. I’ll give your best to Aunt Carol.” She actually sounded relieved! Not that she’d ever minded Alyssa being in her son’s room before, but they’d never locked the door before either.

  “Do you think she knows?” Alyssa whispered.

  “Definitely.” Brent kissed her again. “But I’m sure she prefers this to the alternative. I haven’t been very easy to live with lately. So… how was it Chere? Good enough to make up for the first time?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we should try it again.”

  And then they didn’t have much else to talk about.

  Epilogue

  “Six hundred twelve!”

  Alyssa turned away from the closet to see Brent filling the door frame. “Six hundred twelve what?” She rushed over to give him a kiss.

  “Steps from my dorm room to yours.” Brent was grinning at her. “And since I have two roommates and you only have one… we’ll be spending a lot of our time here.” Brent swept her up and they landed together on her tiny twin bed. The aforementioned roommate was at the campus bookstore. “I have something for you.” Brent pulled a small black ring box from his pocket.

  Alyssa lost her ability to breathe. Her panic must have shown on her face, because Brent rolled his eyes at her. This didn’t bother her nearly as much these days.

  “Don’t have a heart attack Chere.” He lifted the lid to reveal a ring with two silver hands clasping a heart. “I bought it last year actually. I meant you to have it for Christmas but…” He let the sentence trail off. They’d rehashed those lost months enough over the summer. “Worn this way it is a friendship ring.” He lifted it from its box. “and this way” he turned the ring so the heart pointed inward “means you belong to someone. You belong to me.”

  “I love it.” Alyssa let him slip the ring onto her finger. “I bought you a tripod. Pretty lame huh?”

  “No way! Is it here?”

  “Nah, it’s at home. You can have it next weekend.”

  Brent pulled her close to him. “That’s cool. I’m not thinking about cameras right now anyway.” When he’d finished kissing her senseless he had another question for her. “Are going to react that way when it’s the real thing?”

  “What?” He was confusing her.

  “The next time I give you a ring box, Lyssa. I’d like to know if you are going to have another deer in the headlights moment.”

  “You mean if we… I thought it was a …”

  “Duh, Lyssa. I mean when I propose. Don’t get me wrong—we should probably get through college first. But I think that’s where this is headed. I’ve been in love with you forever. It just took me 18 years to notice.”

  “I love you too. I promise—no deer in the headlights.” Alyssa kissed him again.

  “When’s your roommate coming back?” Brent wanted to know.

  “She’s going to dinner after the bookstore.” Alyssa whispered.

  Keep Reading for a Sneak Peak at

  The Last Place You Look

  Vanilla. That’s what Mr. P’s office smelled like. Not even real vanilla or expensive fake vanilla. His office smelled like cheap store brand vanilla scented air freshener and cigarette smoke. The window behind his desk was cracked open an inch, despite the wet morning chill that was to be expected in April. Marilyn smirked. He wasn’t fooling anybody. Just last week, he’d busted her friend Heather for smoking behind the bleachers on the football field—what a hypocrite.

  Mr. P was her class councilor. No one liked him. Not that Marilyn had been in his office all that often over the past four years. And she supposed most students didn’t like school authority figures as a matter of principle, but Mr. P was the worst. Calling him ‘mister p’ sounded all friendly, but the real reason students shortened his name was because no one was able to call him Mister Prick to his face without laughing. Who in their right mind takes a job in a high school with a last name like Prick?

  He lived for getting kids into trouble. Last year, Heather’s tardies had been just the teensiest bit high and Mr. P took away her parking permit! They had to ride the bus for an entire week! And okay it probably wasn’t Mr. P’s fault, the school did have a policy about tardies, but he certainly hadn’t looked the other way, either!

  “Miss Danning? Do you understand what this means? Marilyn?”

  Oops! Marilyn felt a little sheepish about ignoring him. Her college applications were already in though—what could he possibly want with her? She pulled the yellow slip of paper he’d given her closer and read it over.

  Oh. My. God.

  “I’m not going to graduate?” Marilyn felt an instant need to vomit. His stupid stinky air freshener wasn’t exactly helping, either.

  “So it is safe to assume that you haven’t been listening to me?” Mr. P sighed and slumped backward in his chair.

  Marilyn ignored his question. “This is completely unfair! I am a good student! Mythology shouldn’t even count as a real class! I have to graduate!”

  “Maybe you should have thought about that before skipping fifth period seventeen times.” Mr. P sighed again and waved her towards the door. “Take that home and read it over. I’ll need one of your parents to sign it and you must return it to me by next week.”

  That was it? He wasn’t even going to talk to her about this? What a jerk! Marilyn was shaking with equal amounts of fear and anger as she left his office. This was Heather’s fault. Heather always wanted to skip fifth period and go get frozen coffees down the street. Nothing bad ever happened to Heather. Oh no, whenever she had a problem, she would just bat her eyes and flash some skin at the nearest boy. Bam—problem solved.

  Marilyn stood in front of the office door for several moments wallowing in her despair before she noticed she had an audience. Benjamin Farther was watching her from a short, battered wooden desk across the hall. He must be the first period offic
e aid. Dorks like Benjamin Farther were always office aids, or IT aids—it probably looked good on college applications. Not that she needed to be thinking about colleges right now. Since she wouldn’t be attending one next semester. A fresh wave of nausea rolled through her nervous system.

  Marilyn could only think of one thing to do. So she gave the hem of her sweater tug, revealing a bit more of her cleavage, put on her best pouty face, and walked over to Benjamin’s crappy little desk. “You wouldn’t believe what that man just told me!” She lowered herself into the chair across from him.

  It took a moment for Benjamin to realize Marilyn was talking to him. Marilyn Danning and Benjamin Farther had been in the same schools together all their lives and, save for the time she borrowed a periwinkle crayon from him in the second grade, she never talked to him. “What did he say?”

  Of course Benjamin could have guessed—he probably could’ve gotten it in one. Marilyn was holding a bright yellow slip of paper. Yellow means you’re in danger of being ineligible for graduation. She would need to have it signed by a parent and then turn it in to the office where he would be in charge of filing it.

  “I have to pass Mythology! He isn’t going to let me graduate otherwise. Did you know I need a senior English credit to graduate?”

  Of course he knew. Everyone knew. There were class meetings every year and then there was that stupid chart you had to fill out when you chose your electives. Anyone who’d paid attention even a little bit over the last three and half years would have known she needed a senior English credit.

  “Um, well, I think it’s on the elective form.” Why was she sitting there? She was supposed to go straight back to class—her hall pass had a time stamp.

  “What can I do?” She folded her arms on the desktop in front of her and dropped her head down. Blond hair fell across his Calculus book. That was probably the end of any work he was going to get done.

  Sometimes her hair was curly, but today it was straight. Marilyn Danning was the single most beautiful girl Benjamin had ever seen in person. She was kind of short, but when she walked down the halls she sort of bounced. That made short look really cute. He liked her hair best curly, but even when it was straight, she looked good enough to sell shampoo. When they were ten, he’d actually told his mother he was going to marry Marilyn when they grew up. Of course that was a long time ago. They didn’t exactly travel in the same social circles.

  It was pretty clear she wasn’t going anywhere, so he reached over and took the yellow slip of paper from her. “This isn’t all that bad, Marilyn.” He said after reading it over. “You still have the final, and they are offering you an extra credit paper…” Marilyn looked up at him and for a second he forgot what he was saying. Damn, she was pretty. “Anyway—you could still work this out.” He slid the paper back to her. That was sort of his polite way of saying Okay, off you go.

  She didn’t go anywhere. She just looked at him and pushed the paper back in his direction. “Maybe you could… work it out for me? I’d be so grateful.” Was he in the middle of some crappy prime time teen soap? She was actually batting her eyelashes at him, and since when did she have green eyes? He could have sworn they were blue.

  “What exactly would you suggest?” He leaned back in his chair and completely gave up on his Calculus homework. This was crazy—but more interesting than math. And it wasn’t everyday that someone like Marilyn struck up a conversation with someone like him.

  “Well maybe, if you just lost this…” Marilyn twirled the paper in circles on the table top, and she was leaning over much more than was actually necessary. Benjamin used all of his self control to avoid taking advantage of what was probably an awesome view.

  “If I lost it, Marilyn, they would just print a new one. Everything’s on the computers.” He nodded in the direction of the bigger desk complete with computer screens.

  For a second she looked defeated, but then she rallied. “Well, you’re smart—right? Maybe you could just take a look on the computer for me?” Her smile widened.

  He burst out laughing. Laughter was the nicest of all the reactions his brain had considered. Still chuckling, he pulled his Calculus book a little closer and started working on his homework again. Hopefully she would take the hint.

  “Well if you don’t want to be helpful!” She dropped the fake smile and crossed her arms over her chest. At least she had the decency to blush slightly.

  “It isn’t that I don’t want to be helpful, but even if I were willing to risk expulsion—which I’m not—you are grossly overestimating my authority. You see that filing cabinet?” He pointed to the heavy steel cabinet behind him that was probably left over from the sixties. “That is the extent of my administrative power. At most, I could misfile the hardcopy of a piece of paperwork that has already been entered into the computer.”

  “I don’t want you to get expelled.” She seemed to grudgingly accept that her half baked plan of conning the office geek into helping was a bad one. “But what am I going to do?”

  “Here’s a thought. You could write the paper… and study for your final.”

  “I knew you weren’t going to be helpful, Benjamin.” And she got up and stalked out of the office leaving him staring after her— completely shocked.

  He wasn’t particularly shocked that she got up and left when he proved to be of no use to her. No, he was shocked because she knew his name. Despite the insane and insulting nature of their conversation, he couldn’t help feeling a little flattered as he turned his concentration back to his homework.

  ***

  By the end of the day, Benjamin had mostly put his run in with Marilyn out of his mind. Mostly—Marilyn was the kind of person that stayed with you. It also didn’t help that he’d told Alec about the whole thing. Alec O’Connell and Benjamin had been best friends since back when Pokémon was cool, so basically forever. They sat down in their usual seat on the school bus and Alec demanded more details.

  “Dude, tell me again—what exactly did she say?”

  “Come on, I already went through this a dozen times! It wasn’t that big of a deal. She came and went in under five minutes.”

  “That is five more minutes than she’s ever spent with me. You should have gone for it!”

  “Gone for what? She wanted me to fix her grades. Even if I had any idea of how to do that, it would be crazy. She’s not worth ruining my chances at a good college.”

  “Are you blind? She is worth skipping college and working at a falafel stand for the rest of your life.”

  Benjamin didn’t comment on the falafel stand as a career path. Alec could be very dramatic at times and his policy on those occasions was to ignore him. “I doubt she would have agreed to go out with me even if I had been able to fix her grades. Which I wouldn’t have done. Are we still on for tonight?” He tried for the tenth time to change the subject.

  “Sure. Nine o’clock.”

  “Okay, talk to you then.” Relief washed over him as he climbed off the bus in front of his drive way. The whole Marilyn Danning incident had taken up enough of his day. Hopefully by the time he talked to Alec and the guys later, Alec would have forgotten about it, too.

  He needed to hurry if he was going to make it to work on time. Quickly, he pulled on an old pair of jeans and his uniform shirt before heading back out the door. It was a short ride to his Uncle Mike’s bike shop (where he worked part time), and lucky for Benjamin, when he got there they were busy. Busy meant concentrating on the work in front of him and not dwelling on Marilyn, or on why he couldn’t stop dwelling on Marilyn.

  ***

  “Hey, Ben! Quitting time. You can finish that up tomorrow—get home before your mom kicks my ass.”

  He barely avoided banging his head on the heavy bike frame when his Uncle Mike snuck up behind him. A glance at the clock on the wall made him cringe. He’d been too busy concentrating and now it was after eight. Crap. He had to get home quick if he was going to be able to shower and eat something before nine.
“Alright,” he answered his Uncle. “Don’t let anybody touch this one—I’m in the middle of something.” Benjamin hated to come in after school and find out one of the full time guys had messed with something he’d been working on. Life would be easier if he could just work full time—then he wouldn’t have to bother worrying about Marilyn Danning anymore. He figured it was highly unlikely that he’d ever run into her at the shop.

  It was nearly eight thirty when he walked through the front door. Benjamin headed straight for the kitchen where his mom usually left a plate for him in the oven when he missed dinner. “Benjamin!” his mom shouted as he dashed around the corner into the kitchen. She was probably mad that he’d worked so late again. It was never intentional, but time had a habit of flying by when he was working.

  “Sorry Mom!” He hollered just as he took a big bite of the cold burrito before putting it and the rest of his plate into the microwave. He loved burrito night. “I’ll make it back for dinner tomorrow.” He was mumbling around his food and some rice and sauce dribbled out of his mouth and down the front of his work shirt. Oh well it was covered in grease anyway.

  When Benjamin turned around, he found his mom standing in the kitchen doorway… and then Marilyn Danning walked up behind her. Benjamin hated burrito night.

  Grabbing a napkin he wiped his mouth and tried (and failed) to clean the mess off the front of his shirt. “Marilyn. Umm… hi.” What in the world was she doing here? The most plausible explanation he could come up with was that he actually had cracked his skull on that bike back at the shop, and was right now lying in a pool of his own blood having strange coma dreams.

  “Hey, Benjamin. I just stopped by to thank you for helping me earlier… your mom said I could wait until you got home from work.” Oh—well that might be it… she still thought he could fix her grade. At least he wasn’t in a coma. His Batman boxer shorts might have been embarrassing if he’d ended up in the emergency room.

  “Well, I’ll just leave you two alone then.” His mom basically skipped out of the kitchen. Benjamin was worried that she sounded this close to humming the wedding march. Girls were so weird—even grown up ones.