by Anna Cruise
He got off the bed and walked the three steps to his dresser. He searched the top drawer and pulled out a thin Sees candy box.
He brought it back to the bed and held it out to me. “But you will.”
“What is it?” I asked, looking at the tattered box. I didn't think candy was going to solve much of anything.
Aidan grinned and lifted the lid, exposing a collection of thin, hand-rolled cigarettes. “Wanna get high?”
They weren't cigarettes and he was right. After weakly protesting, I choked my way through a joint with him. I coughed and sputtered as the smoke seared my throat and burned my lungs. I didn't let myself worry about what I was doing, just sucked on the rolled up piece of paper. And pretty soon, everything became clear in a fuzzy, unimportant sort of way. I felt calm and silly, relaxed and alert. My jaw muscles ached from smiling so much.
“See, I told you,” he said in a smug voice.
We were both laying down now, staring at the ceiling as we talked.
“Just think if Obama and Bin Laden had shared a smoke. The war on terror would have been over, man.”
I giggled. He was gorgeous and brilliant. And funny and sweet. And I forgave him completely. I told him this, throwing my arms around him as I said so.
“I'm glad.” He nuzzled my ear. “You're pretty hot, too. I love this,” he said, burying his face in my hair. “And your eyes. Reminds me of chocolate.”
My mood shifted and I nudged his head up so I could kiss him.
“Good God, Gigi,” he murmured, his hands weaving through my hair.
I pulled away. “Gigi?”
His smile was like an angel's. “You. My nickname for you. Good Girl. Gigi.”
I reached for him again. “I don't like nicknames. And I'm not feeling like much of a good girl right now.”
“Yeah,” he said as his hand closed over my breast and he lowered his mouth toward mine. “I noticed.”
I let him touch me and do all of the things he did to me at Scotty's house. I didn't think about it this time. I just let him do it. And I didn't know if it was the joint I'd just smoked or the mood I was in, or the fact that I just wanted to escape from my life, but it was better the second time around. A thousand percent better.
ELEVEN
The sun was disappearing behind the thick marine layer that hung over the ocean when Aidan dropped me off. I grabbed my Coke from the cup holder in his car and leaned over to kiss him goodbye.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said.
We'd stopped at Alberto's and gorged ourselves on rolled tacos and quesadillas. Mexican food had never tasted so good.
“No problem.” He stroked my leg, his thumb rubbing gently along my thigh as he kissed me again. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
I ignored the sign in the yard and let myself into the darkened house. A light was on in my mom's room. It shot a thin beam from under her door, casting an eerie glow in the hallway. I hesitated for just a moment, wondering if I should approach. Knock or tell her I was home or something. But then the light flickered off and my decision was made for me. I stopped in the kitchen to dump out my drink. The light on the answering machine blinked twice in rapid succession. I hit the play button.
“Megan. It's Dad. We're back from Miami. Give me a call.”
I deleted it.
“Megan?” Jada's voice. High-pitched. Worried. “What's going on? Why haven't you called me? Are you OK? I left messages on your cell. I'm worried!”
I sighed. I needed to call her. I hadn't talked to her since Friday afternoon. But, truthfully, I had nothing to say to her. Nothing I could say. I imagined the conversation we'd have.
“How was your date? Your weekend?” she would ask.
“Great,” I'd say.
“What did you do?”
“Well, let's see,” I'd respond. “Got drunk off my ass with Jello shots, lost my virginity in some stranger's bed, smoked a joint with Aidan today and then slept with him again. Oh, and there's a For Sale sign up in my yard because my dad is selling our house. How was your weekend?”
It didn't go exactly that way. She answered on the first ring and I hemmed and hawed as I answered her questions, offering apologies for not getting in touch sooner. I told her about the sign in the yard, seizing upon it as an excuse for not calling. She was understanding, sympathetic, reacting exactly the way I'd expect her to. And I couldn't wait to get off the phone with her.
“You sure you don't want me to come over?” she asked. “Or you could come here? My dad could pick you up.”
I didn't want to see a dad. Any dad.
“No,” I told her. “It's fine. I'm gonna do some homework, probably go to bed early. I didn't get much sleep this weekend.”
“OK. If you're sure.” But she sounded doubtful, as if she really thought I was making a bad decision, staying home instead of hanging with her.
“I'm sure. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?”
I hung up.
I flopped down on my bed and stared at the backpack on my desk. I knew what waited for me in there—pages of math, a lab I needed to finish. I knew I should walk over to the desk, unzip the bag and pull out my books and notebook. I knew I should call my dad, too. But I didn't. I didn't do either of those things.
My cell phone vibrated and I flipped it open. A text from Aidan. I punched in his number.
His voice made my heart leap. “I miss you already.”
“Me, too.”
“Tell me what you're doing right now,” he said.
“I'm laying on my bed—”
Aidan chuckled. “Mmm, I wish I was there with you. You know what I'd be doing if I was?”
My breath caught in my throat and I forgot all about my homework. “Tell me.”
I settled back and closed my eyes.
And he did.
*
The attention was making me sick to my stomach. I pushed my half-eaten lunch away as I drowned in my friends' sympathy—their pitying looks and mumbled condolences as Jada informed everyone about the newest house on the market. Mine. She and Logan both oozed concern. Even Carter, usually so indifferent, patted me on the back and gave me an awkward hug. The only one who remained quiet was Case.
“Have you started looking?” Logan asked. I was sandwiched between him and Jada. “You know, there's a house down the street from me that's for sale.”
Jada's face brightened and she clutched my arm. “Oh, me, too! Four or five houses down. Just think—we could be neighbors and best friends.”
I faked a smile in return. “Yeah. Cool.”
But the neighborhoods they lived in, the bay side of Pacific Beach, were just as pricey as my own. We'd never be able to afford that. I had a sinking feeling that we wouldn't be able to afford much of anything.
Case spoke. “Are you staying here?”
“Of course she's staying,” Jada told him, frowning. “Where else would she go?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. Sometimes people want a fresh start. Need one.”
Jada hugged me. “Well, Megan doesn't. Right, Meg? You're staying right here.”
I didn't know if she was trying to convince me or herself so I just plastered on another smile and nodded. It wasn't something I was prepared to think about.
Logan changed the subject. “We have auditions for the Spring show this week.”
I could have kissed him.
He looked at Case. “You planning on trying out?”
“I don't know. Maybe.” He finished his sandwich, peanut butter and jelly slapped between two limp pieces of white bread. He had the same lunch every day.
“You should try out.” Logan pivoted on the bench, turning to face me, and I realized he was now speaking to me. “Help get your mind off of everything.”
The very thought of it gave me stage fright. “No thanks.”
“Why not?”
“I'd rather swim in shark-infested waters with an open wound than get up on stage.” My shudder of horror was real.
My frie
nds laughed and I smiled, a real one this time.
“What's so funny?” a voice asked.
I glanced behind me. Aidan was there, looking at me, a grin on his face.
I smiled uneasily as my friends shifted their eyes from me to Aidan. Frowning, assessing. The only one who didn't was Case. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Aidan said, his eyes on me.
He walked around to the front of the bench. None of my friends spoke. His hair shone white, the blinding sun glinting off it, infusing those silken strands with heat and light. He wore board shorts, black with white and blue flowers. He'd probably gone surfing that morning before school.
“You got a minute?”
I nodded. Jada's head swiveled back and forth between us, watching the exchange as if she were at a tennis match. As soon as I stood, he reached for me, throwing his arm around my shoulder and drawing me close. Part of me wanted to push him away just as the other part wanted to draw him closer.
“Think this will freak out your friends?” he whispered. He lifted my hair and rained kisses on my neck as we walked across the weed patch.
He steered us toward the school bulletin board and backed me up against the plexiglass, my body now hiding the fliers advertising the Spring Dance and the Chess Club's Bake Sale. He put his arms on either side of me, pressing his hands against the glass, trapping me.
He bent close. “Guess what I found out last night?”
I raised my eyebrows. “What?”
His mouth was inches from mine. “That phone sex with you is almost as good as the real thing.” He leaned into me, rubbing his crotch lightly against mine before pulling away. “Feel that?”
I felt it.
“I've been walking around like this since talking to you last night.” He kissed my mouth and the taste of peppermint mixed with tobacco settled on my tongue. “Think you could help me out? Help end my suffering? After school?”
The look in his eyes made me weak in the knees. He kissed me again, his hands moving from the glass to my hips. He pulled me against him and I forgot where we were.
“Not appropriate, Mr. Westwood.” It was a teacher's voice, a soft Southern drawl filled with reprimand. Ms. Malcolm, my English teacher.
“Sorry,” he said and I wondered if she could hear the insincerity in his voice.
He let me go. “Come with me after school?”
“And do what?” I asked stupidly. I couldn't think.
His smile was slow, knowing. “What do you think? Do you want me to say it?” He looked around and, raising his voice, half-yelled, “I want to fu – “
I clamped my hand over his mouth and felt his lips stretch into a smile against my palm.
He lifted my hand. “Meet me at my car. Senior lot.” He gave me a swift kiss and left.
I leaned against the glass and watched him go. He walked across the grass, past the bench where my friends sat, toward the cafeteria. I glanced at them and realized they were all still staring at me. Logan and Carter looked angry and Case's expression was a strange mix of irritation and amusement. I didn't care about what they thought because all I could think about was the hurt and astonished look on Jada's face. She was my best friend and she'd just watched me make out with a guy I'd told her virtually nothing about. I looked away, ashamed and wracked with guilt. The bell rang then, saving me from a confrontation and I breathed a sigh of relief as she picked up her backpack and left the bench without another backward glance.
She asked me about it in English, our last class of the day. We'd just settled into our seats and pulled out our anthologies. Ms. Malcolm hadn't appeared yet. Neither had Trevor, and I was grateful. I didn't know how I was going to react to seeing him as an authority figure, especially with images of him throwing back Jello shots still fresh in my mind.
“When were you going to tell me?” she demanded. “About him? Or were you?”
“I was,” I said. “It's just...with the house...”
“The sign went up Sunday. You went out with him on Friday. Last time I checked, there was a day in between. A day you could have called me. Filled me in.”
“I know. I'm sorry.” I didn't know what else to say.
She pressed. “So, are you guys going out? Like, a couple or something?”
“I don't know,” I said. At least that was the truth. I didn't know what Aidan was.
“Well, it sure looks like you are.” She hesitated. “So...how serious are you guys?”
I knew what she was asking. How far had we gone. Her parents had given her a purity ring for her fifteenth birthday, a simple gold ring with a single cross carved into it, a ring she wore with pride. Not that they were religious. I think her parents were just terrified of her getting pregnant after she'd grown tits the size of Katy Perry's, seemingly overnight.
It was probably something I should be worrying about, I thought, swallowing against the lump in my throat. We hadn't used anything either time. I closed my eyes. I couldn't think about that now.
What could I tell her? Certainly not the truth. But she'd seen the way he'd kissed me, the way he'd held me to him, and she'd probably heard the words he'd started to say as he called across the grass.
“Not very.”
“How far?”
“Second.” I said quickly, the heat rising in my face.
She frowned and I wondered if she knew I wasn't telling the truth. “Be careful, Meg. With him.”
“I will,” I said.
Ms. Malcolm walked through the door and our conversation ended.
And I had a feeling our friendship was ending, too.
TWELVE
Aidan and I were on the phone when Jada called later that night. I ignored the first three times my cell signaled an incoming call.
It flashed again and I sighed. “Can I call you right back? Jada's trying to get a hold of me.”
He chuckled. “Mama Bear checking in, huh? Sure, call me back.”
I clicked over.
“Where were you today?” she asked, not sounding curious at all. She was angry. Furious.
“Wh-what?” I stammered.
I wondered if she'd somehow found a way to follow me to Aidan's house after school, to creep into the backyard and peer through his bedroom window and watch exactly how we'd spent our afternoon.
“Track tryouts. Today. You disappeared after English. I thought you were going to the locker room.”
My hand flew to my mouth. How had I forgotten? “Oh, Jada. I'm sorry. I totally forgot.”
“How?” she demanded. “We've been talking about it for two months. How could you possibly forget?”
“I don't know,” I mumbled. I stood up and began to pace my room. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I know that, Meg. That's why we decided to do this in the first place. Remember?”
I remembered.
She asked again. “Where were you? What was so important that you forgot about this? About me?”
For the first time ever, I wished for my cell phone to drop a call. But our connection was good, not even a hint of static breaking the silence that answered her. I hovered by my desk, shoving random papers in my drawer and stowing pens and pencils in a plastic Sea World cup as I tried to think of a suitable response. I had nothing.
“You were with him, weren't you?” I could hear her chewing her gum but she wasn't popping bubbles today. “I hope you know what you're doing.”
“I do.”
More silence.
“I should go,” I said. “I have homework.”
“We'll talk tomorrow,” she warned before the line went dead.
I called Aidan back.
“Did you want to try out?” His voice was gravelly, like he'd just finished a smoke.
I fell back on my bed, propping my pillows against the wall, making a softer headboard than the solid oak one already behind me. “Not really. I mean, it was Jada's idea.”
“So you were OK with it? Missing today and missing out on the season?”
> I thought about the afternoon I'd had instead. My insides turned to mush just thinking about it. “Definitely. I just feel bad letting her down.”
“You need to do what you want to do.” He paused and I heard him exhale. “Not what other people want.”
“I know. But I still feel guilty.”
“You think your dad feels guilty?” Aidan asked. “For running off and leaving you and your mom, for kicking you out of your house?”
My gaze settled on the bulletin board mounted above my desk. There was a bare patch of cork in the bottom corner, a spot that had housed a photo of me and my dad from two Christmases ago, a picture of us leaning towards each other, smiling, sharing a dessert at our holiday brunch. I'd ripped it down months ago.
“God, I hope he does—”
“Whatever.” His voice held a note of impatience. “The point is, even if he did feel any guilt, he still did what he wanted. Right?”
I didn't answer and he continued. “If you want to run, join the fucking track team. But if you don't, then don't. Don't do it because someone else wants you to.”
“I know. And I don't.” I closed my eyes. I was tired. “Want to do it, I mean.”
He sighed. “That's actually kind of a bummer.”
“Why?”
“I would have loved to see your ass in those black spandex pants they wear.”
“Puh-leeze,” I said, doing my best to sound nonchalant despite the fact that my eyes had flown open and my heart was beginning a jiggety-jog of its own.
“Actually, I prefer to see you wearing nothing at all.” His voice dropped lower, to almost a whisper. “I'm falling for you, Meg. Hard.”
*
Lunch on Tuesday was a disaster. Logan and Carter shot ominous looks at me as I ate while Jada babbled on about how great track was going to be, insisting I should stop by after school to see if I could still try out. Even if I hadn't already made plans, I wouldn't have gone. Aidan was right. I needed to do what I wanted.
Case was the only one who acted as though nothing was wrong.
“You ready for the quiz today?” he asked. He'd already finished his sandwich.
“No.” I smiled. “You?”
He shook his head. “I hate Spanish.”
I nodded in agreement.
