“I’m not sure I want to.” I avoid his eyes.
“It’s fine,” he mumbles before starting to kiss me again. His stubble scratches my chin. “Can we do something else, at least? For now?”
“What?”
“Will you…?” He unzips his jeans.
He wants me to put my mouth on it. “I can’t,” I gasp, ashamed at the thought.
“Can I touch you?” he whispers, unbuttoning my jeans. He slides them down my legs and stares at my lacy white underwear. I’ve never gone this far with a boy, and the look on his face is so sexy I tug on his jeans, revealing black boxer briefs. He pushes my panties aside, making me moan softly as he works a finger inside me.
Later I straddle him and he wraps his hands around my waist and we kiss and kiss, only thin cotton separating us. I get so caught up in wanting to know what this feels like with a man that I nearly forget he hasn’t even taken me out on a real date yet.
“Next week, can we please do something outside of your truck?” I ask, delirious because of what he’s doing to my neck.
“Really, it’s not a good idea,” he pants, slipping his hand back down my underwear.
I want to tell him he can’t kiss away these issues, but somehow I doubt he’ll hear me. I push his hand away and sit up, lifting my hips and pulling my jeans back on. The door handle wedges into my back. It’s painful.
“I don’t want to sleep with you in your truck,” I say, licking my lips. They’re chapped from kissing so much.
He weaves his fingers in my hair and presses his forehead to mine. “We wouldn’t do it in my truck.”
“But you won’t let me go to your apartment now. Why will it be different in a month?”
“We can’t go to my apartment. Ever.”
“Fine.” The windshield is fogged up.
He glances down at where my pants fasten, then leans back in. “We could go to a motel?”
“That’s real classy.”
“I don’t mean to be a jerk…it’s just I’m so scared about this.” His breath feels hot against my face. His face wears a look of desperation. Like he wants me to follow his lead, no questions asked. “And sometimes I get so wrapped up in you and feeling like I’m young again, I forget about how much trouble we’ll be in if anyone finds out.”
I love that he’s into me, but is he only into me so he’ll “feel young again”? It’s not like he’s ancient. It’s like the minute we started hooking up, he got scared, and the fear has changed him.
“I bet you’d take Coach Vixen back to your apartment,” I say.
“You are Trouble, you know that?” he says with a laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“I’m really into you, Park. I’m not interested in Jenna, I promise.”
“I think I’m gonna go home.” I start to open the door when Brian reaches out and pulls me into his arms.
“I’m sorry…We’ll figure this out.”
“You mean you’ll figure this out. You won’t listen to a single thing I say.” I try to disentangle myself from his arms, but he holds me tighter.
“I’m trying.” He leans his forehead against mine.
“I’m ready for bed.” I’m so pissed, I don’t bother with a good night kiss. “Bye.”
“Good night.” He sighs and drags a hand through his hair, and I climb out and trudge toward my house. Right as I step up to my porch, Drew emerges from the shadows. I gasp.
“Coach Hoffman? Really?” He looks freaked out. “You could get in so much trouble. What if your dad finds out? Or the school?” I hear Brian’s truck squeal out of the laundromat parking lot.
“Oh my God. You can’t tell!”
“I’d never do that. You know that.”
“I know.” I nod, closing my eyes. My body’s shaking all over. Did Drew see us hooking up?
“But what about Corndog?”
“What about him?” I open my eyes to find Drew regarding me warily. Looking at me like he doesn’t even know who I am.
“You know what I mean.”
“Drew…” I clasp my hands. How do I tell him that even though Will’s straight and will most likely never be interested in Drew back, I won’t do that to him? I guess that’s all I can say. “I’d never betray you. You’re my best friend.” I step closer to him and hug him around the waist, breathing in the comforting smell of lemons and cotton.
“Thanks,” he chokes out. “But are you okay? I thought you just had a crush on him, but you’re with him for real? Coach Hoffman? Really?”
“Would you stop saying ‘Coach Hoffman? Really?’”
“How did this even happen?”
“It just did.” My voice is tiny. “We probably won’t last.”
“Are you okay?”
I nod slowly.
“I won’t deny that he’s hot,” Drew jokes. “But it’s kinda pervy that he’s into you.”
I hug him tighter, but I’m wishing I was hugging Will. I feel like I’m gonna barf. “Let’s hang out tomorrow after the game, okay?” he says quietly.
“Okay.” I release Drew and kiss his cheek. He heads toward his trailer down the street and I go to my room. I slide my cell open to find a slew of text messages from Brian and Will.
Brian’s texts are: Does Bates know? Can he keep a secret?
Will’s texts are: You busy tomorrow night? I have to babysit. Would love your company.
I change into pajamas and wash my face, daydreaming about Will coming through my window tonight, to hug me and make me feel safe and special.
Back in my room, I crawl under the covers and send Brian a text: All’s okay. Good night.
I send Will a text: I’d like that.
A calm, cool response that doesn’t betray Drew.
Even though it betrays my heart.
the mascot
30 days until i turn 18
Do I look different?
I’m staring at myself in the mirror.
I let Brian touch me, and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s not like I lost my virginity or anything, but I feel like I gave away part of me. I turn sideways and examine my figure, arching my back, making sure I look slim in my jeans and navy blue cotton long-sleeved shirt. Cute for today’s game. But I’m not sure who I’m trying to look cute for. I’m not sure it’s Brian anymore, and I shouldn’t want to look pretty for Will. Honestly, I doubt Will would care that my lip gloss is perfect and my nails aren’t chipped.
I drag a hand through my hair, my fingers shaking. Drew saw me with Brian…and I’m not proud of it. I blow air out, trying to breathe evenly.
I’m not totally sure why, I guess I got caught up in it—in him, but last night after Brian touched me, I felt him too. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat while my fingers moved up and down. I could tell by the noises he made that he liked how I made him feel, but it was almost as if I could be anybody. It didn’t matter who I was, it was only that somebody was giving him pleasure.
I don’t want to be just anybody.
I want to matter, to be loved. I want the real.
•••
The Hundred Oaks Raiders just beat Winchester, six to five. It was a close call, but Will drove two runs in during the eighth, edging us ahead. I dropped the stats book on the dusty dugout floor and jumped up and down, screaming his name as he rounded first base. He stood on second and took off his batting gloves, grinning over at me.
I really did miss this game.
Now we’re packing up our equipment and getting ready to leave.
A bunch of the guys are horsing around over at the concession stand. Sam asks if he can buy out their pizza supply for the bus ride home.
“We only have two pizzas available right now,” the worker replies.
“How many slices is that?” Will asks.
“Twenty or so?”
Will consults with Sam. “Maybe we should get Coach to take us to Domino’s, dude.”
“I hate Domiblows,” Sam replies.
“How about Papa John’s?” Will asks.
“Gag me with a spoon,” Sam jokes.
While they argue, I clear my mind. The sun is blazing. It’s not spring yet, but it feels very close, and I love standing here under the blue sky, thinking about how Mom’s tulips will bloom soon.
That’s when two guys from Winchester approach me.
“Hey,” one of them says, checking out my chest.
“Hi,” I reply, wishing I had a drink to throw in this guy’s face. I look around. Will and Sam are still arguing about pizza, Drew is texting like there’s no tomorrow, and Brian is chatting with the Winchester coach.
“Want to hang out?” the Winchester player asks.
“No, thanks,” I say, stepping backward.
“C’mon.” He gives me a smile that’s actually kind of cute. Too bad he already revealed that he’s a jerk.
“No.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brian coming toward me.
“Fine. Another time,” Winchester guy says, and I’m thinking that’ll be the end of it, but now Will has seen Brian coming to my “rescue.”
“Parker?” Will calls. “You okay?”
Sam begins taking his bat out of his bag (oh my God, he’s so ridiculous!) and I’m about to laugh at these guys making a big deal out of nothing. Testosterone is powerful stuff, I chuckle to myself. I love how these guys have become sort of like a family to me.
“Leave her alone!” Paul Briggs shouts at the Winchester players. “She’s ours. She’s our team mascot!”
Team mascot! Does that mean what I think it means?
Will glances at me as my eyebrows furrow. “All of you on the bus. Now!”
The team rushes toward the parking lot. The two Winchester guys vanish.
Will grabs Paul by the jersey and says, “You owe Parker an apology. And if I ever hear you say something like that again, I’ll make sure Coach benches you. Got it?”
“Got it,” Paul squeaks out. He must outweigh Will by about a gazillion pounds, but he looks freaked. I’ve never seen Will Whitfield so pissed. Not even when I won valedictorian over him. When Dr. Salter called us into his office, to tell us the results, a sad knowing smile spread over Will’s face. He shook my hand, said congrats, and that was that. Today, fury fills his eyes.
“Sorry,” Paul mutters to me before escaping to the bus.
I don’t know what to do with my hands. I bite on my pinky nail, chipping the polish, and rock on my heels. Brian’s forehead wrinkles as he comes over.
“You all right?” he whispers.
No, I want to say. I feel alone. I thought you were different, but you’re not treating me like an adult. Like someone who matters. You’re treating me like a plaything. And assholes play both softball and baseball.
My eyes water. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Brian squeezes my shoulder and nods. I brush his hand away from me and go into the bathroom to find a toxic warzone. Gross. No way I’m using that. I step back out of the bathroom and see Brian and Will in a hushed conversation, so I decide to eavesdrop on them from around the side of the building. I tiptoe over.
“You showed great leadership today,” Brian says to Will. “Taking care of Parker like that. You’re a good captain.”
“She’s a nice girl. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“What did Paul mean when he called her the team mascot?”
Will pauses. My heart pounds. “Uh, she’s hooked up with a couple of guys on the team.”
Holy mortification.
“Really?” Brian asks.
“Yeah,” Will says quietly.
“But not anymore, right? It wouldn’t be good for the team if she’s dating a player—”
“She’s not dating anyone,” Will interrupts. “She told me herself.”
Brian hesitates before asking, “Are you into her?”
“Why?”
“I’m your coach. I should know if there could be any potential problems down the line.” He’s jealous.
“Nah. She’s not my type. I’m not interested in a girl like her.”
My heart putters to a stop, and a clammy feeling rushes over me and settles in my stomach, hollowing it out.
Will Whitfield couldn’t be interested in a girl like me…
Figures.
I turn and sprint back to the bus, my Converses smacking the asphalt. I climb the steps and curl up in my seat. I slip earbuds into my ears, turn on my iPod, and let the Rent soundtrack steal my thoughts. Let it erase the hurt. As if it could. My chest heaves in and out. Someone taps my knee. I open my eyes to find Drew slipping into the seat next to me. I pull my earbud out.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers.
I turn to stare out the window, hating myself. “Everything’s normal.”
•••
Drew invites me over after the game. He makes himself a PB&J. Sitting on a bar stool at the counter, I eat some celery with a bit of peanut butter.
He raps a knife on the counter like he’s a woodpecker.
“Why are you so nervous?” I ask, biting into my celery.
“I, um, well…”
“Out with it,” I say before swallowing.
“Tate asked me to play mini golf in Nashville tonight.”
I squeal. “Really? Did you say yes?”
Drew bites into his sandwich and chews. He takes another bite, and my grin fades as I wait. I dip my celery into the peanut butter.
“You just double dipped your celery into my peanut butter!”
“Stop evading the question,” I reply, chewing and double dipping again.
“I said yes,” Drew says quietly. He studies his socks. “Please don’t tell anybody.”
“I won’t.”
“Especially not Corndog.”
“You got it. So you and Tate have been talking…?”
“Mostly messaging on Facebook.” He takes another bite of PB&J. “It’s good…it’s good to know someone like me. It’s good to have a friend.”
“I’m glad.” I can barely sit still I’m so happy for him. “Do you think you’re interested in anything more with him?”
Drew’s face goes all distorted. “Why are you so interested in what I think of Tate? Is it because of Corndog? Because if I don’t like him, you can?”
My chest hurts. My face flushes. “Drew…please…”
“Sorry,” he murmurs, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk to pour himself a glass.
I set my celery on my plate and try to ignore the guilt rushing through me. I vow not to tell Drew about baby-sitting with Will tonight, because he’ll never believe it’s a just-friends thing.
I can have a secret relationship that takes place in a Ford F150 with a guy who’s six years older than me, or I can admit my feelings for Will, a boy who’s not interested in a girl like me, and lose my best friend in the process.
Or I can be same ole, same ole.
I take a bite of celery sans peanut butter.
•••
Will opens the front door, and the edges of his mouth slide into a grin. Those blue eyes drop to mine, and he invites me inside the farmhouse that’s been in the Whitfield family for something like five generations. “Bo’s finishing dinner,” he says, taking my jacket to hang it in the closet. “You hungry?”
I wave a hand. “I’m good. Where are your other brothers?”
Will leans against the doorframe. “Rory went to a movie, and Trey’s at a friend’s house.”
“So it’s just me, you, and Bo?”
“Yep. Come on.” He grabs my hand and leads me to the kitchen, where Bo’s playing with his food, dipping chicken nuggets into applesauce.
He scrambles out of his chair and into my arms. I bury my face in his neck, taking in his smell of crayons and juice. Will grins to himself and starts cleaning up Bo’s dishes.
“Hey, Bo,” he says. “Want to show Parker your birthday party stuff?”
I act surprised. “When’s your birthday?”
Bo looks to Will for help.
“You turn five on April Fool’s Day, right?” Will says, and his little brother nods. “When Mom called Dad to say she was in labor, he thought she was kidding and was way late to the hospital. I stayed in the delivery room until he rushed in at the last minute.”
“That’s sweet,” I reply, smiling, even though I’m kinda envious of his family.
“My birthday’s on April fifth,” I tell Bo. “Our birthdays are in the same week.”
I leave Will washing dishes and follow Bo to his room, where it looks like his mom has been working on invitations. “You’re having a baseball and dinosaur themed party?” He nods, and shows me dinosaur streamers and baseball party favors. Cute.
Bo plops down on the rug to play with Matchbox cars, so I kneel with him and drive a yellow racecar up onto his bed and back to the rug and then up my legs and arms. His mouth forms an O as he watches me.
Will appears in the doorway. “How about a movie?”
“Is that what you want to do?” I ask Bo, who nods. He sure does a lot of nodding. I read online that people with Asperger’s usually have repetitive quirks.
Will brings apple slices and cheese, and I carry Bo down the steps to the basement and soon we’re watching School of Rock, ’cause Bo loves the music. He likes to say “gee-tar” over and over.
Will sits on the cushion right next to me, and Bo wedges himself between us, and after eating his cheese and apple, he promptly falls asleep against Will’s side.
“He’s adorable,” I say, gently mussing Bo’s brown curls.
“Thanks,” Will replies, focusing on the screen. “I love him.”
Bo lets out little snores. “I can see why.”
Stealing Parker (Catching Jordan) Page 15
